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“I just wasted a condom.” That was the text I received after ditching my holiday hookup when things started to get a little bit… uncomfortable.
A few hours earlier, I’d arrived at my hostel in the south of Brazil. As a solo traveller I was keen to make as many friends as possible, so I happily slotted myself into a group who were drinking in the garden.
There was a guy, let’s call him S, who had a particular interest in me. He was 32 and at least eight years older than everyone in the group. He had a northern twang and kept making comments that were obviously about picking up drugs, trying to show off. “I just need to see a man about a dog,” he announced, before dashing off and returning 20 minutes later looking shifty, desperate for someone to ask where he’d just been.
We ended up at an awful club. It was humid, smelled like a toilet and played pounding reggaetón – the kind of club you find yourself dragged to during freshers week. I was tired from my travels and bored of the below-average club, so told him I was heading home. He jumped at the chance to walk me back.
When we got back we sat in a hammock in the garden. A few other revellers turned up and started chatting to us, but I suddenly felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. It was a message from S, still sat beside me, simply saying “Spoon?”. I was in a fuck-it mood, and replied “OK, but only for a spoon lol.”
We went to his hostel bed. The room seemed empty, and he had a bottom bunk. Result! Things inevitably started to heat up, but right when we were getting down to it, people began to return from the night out, populating the other seven beds in the room.
We tried to stealthily continue, awkwardly fumbling around with a condom. But the crackle of the aluminium packet being opened was inevitably too loud. “Is someone having sex!?,” somebody whispered. My British sensibility couldn’t take it. Engaging in public sex was not on my shagging bucket list.
Mortified, I told him to stop, rolled out of bed and bolted from the room with my knickers around my ankles. A few minutes later I was in my own bed, feeling relieved, when I received the fateful text.
“Come outside for a smoke?”
I didn’t reply. Then, a few minutes later.
“FFS, I just wasted a condom.”
Enjoyed this article? Read more here: My worst hotel sex