The Night at the Hostel Pool Changed My Trip

This is the first time I’ve dared to write something like this, so forgive me if my hand shows a bit of clumsiness. About a year ago I stopped watching porn because I felt like something inside me was being switched off, and by chance I ended up reading stories. I got hooked. I liked taking it slowly, imagining, putting my own faces and voices on it. Since then I’d wanted to give something back, to tell one of my own stories, but between work and the pace of life I never found the time. On this holiday I finally sat down to do it.

So you know who’s speaking: I’m twenty-eight, I’m Spanish, and I’ve been living abroad for almost five years, drifting around Asia. I work in something related to sport and I train almost every day, not because I want to appear in any photo, but because it clears my head. I don’t have a specific type of woman, although after so much traveling I ended up being attracted to foreigners. I’m curious and pretty demanding with myself. I’ve always thought that what costs you a little is later enjoyed twice as much.

Back then I was living in Bangkok, and whenever I got a long weekend I took advantage of it to get away. Flying around the region is dirt cheap, so one long weekend I decided to go back to the Philippines and head to a tiny island someone had recommended to me, lost in the middle of nowhere. Dirt roads, little light, a lot of poverty in the background. And at the same time, one of those places where it seems like all the good-looking, fit people on the planet are concentrated per square meter.

As soon as I got off the ferry I saw a couple of dive shops. I asked out of curiosity and they told me I could get certified in three days. Perfect plan. The first day was all theory and I ended up completely wrecked by mid-afternoon, still without accommodation. When I travel alone I like leaving things to chance: I look for a hostel with young, open people and that’s it. Traveling alone pushes you into situations that would never otherwise happen to you.

I checked in and a guy took me to the room. A wooden cabin with six bunk beds. Five occupied. Five girls.

I remember perfectly the feeling of crossing that door. One of them had Mediterranean features, curly hair half tied up, and a dancer’s body. Another was blonde, with something sweet in her face, less slim but impossible to ignore. There were two more brunettes and a fifth I barely remember. I only remember thinking one very specific thing: okay, this just got interesting.

The shared bathroom was clearly their territory. Bikinis hanging up, thongs drying on the towel rack, creams, razors, a thousand little products everywhere. And me in the middle, putting my toiletry bag down with the look of someone who doesn’t quite know where to put himself.

The curly-haired one was the first to talk to me. She asked where I was from, what I was doing there. I told her I was Spanish, that I lived in Thailand, that I was traveling alone. They told me they were celebrating the end of college, a farewell trip of that kind. Three Swedes and two Danes. The curly-haired one was called Lina; the blonde one, Frida.

I went out for a walk, had dinner, trained a bit, and came back at night. Before sleeping, the image was hard to get out of my head: tiny shorts disappearing up their cunt, loose tops with no bra, tits outlined when they turned, bodies moving around the cabin with that confidence of people who already know each other. The bunks had curtains, but when one of them turned on the light, their silhouettes were drawn out, and one of them changed her panties with the shadow backlit, her ass perfectly outlined against the fabric. I wasn’t exactly dressed warmly either, and my half-hard cock was showing through my boxer briefs. Nothing happened that night, but I ended up jerking off in silence under the sheet, biting my lip so I wouldn’t make a sound, coming into a wad of tissue while I listened to them breathing a meter away from me.

The next day I got up early to go diving. I came back in the afternoon and the scene was even more direct: Lina and Frida were walking around the room in thongs as if I were part of the furniture. You could see Lina’s cunt triangle pressed through the front of the fabric, and Frida’s whole ass was swaying with every step, her tits bare without the slightest shame as she rummaged through her backpack. My head started running wild. I was already building the whole fantasy myself, and my cock was swelling in my swim trunks, impossible to hide completely.

The three of us met in the bathroom and talked about what we’d done during the day. I asked about their plans for the evening and they told me they were going to have dinner at a viewpoint. They invited me. I accepted without thinking.

While they showered I went out to the pool. When they told me I could come back in, I found Lina just out of the water, hair dripping, wrapped in a short towel that barely covered her below the hips and that let you make out the dark shadow of her cunt whenever she turned her leg. I won’t lie: my head was going at a thousand, because I was starting to feel like those girls were winding me up on purpose. And the best thing about situations like that is exactly that, not knowing for sure whether anything is going to happen or whether you’re making it all up. I got in the shower more turned on than I would’ve liked to admit, and there I also gave myself a bit of a hand job, not to come, just to take the pressure off before dinner.

***

The three of us had dinner at a tiny place, wooden tables, warm light, soft music in the background. Nothing extraordinary, but comfortable. Me in the middle, one on each side.

—Do you always travel alone? —Frida asked without looking up from the menu.

—Almost always —I said—. I like going at my own pace.

—There’s something to it —Lina answered with a smile—. That way you meet more people.

We ordered several dishes to share and put them in the center. Hands crossing by accident, smiles when someone brushed the other while reaching for the same thing. Lina wore a short dress and under the table she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, rubbing my thigh every couple of minutes. At one point Frida looked at me and dropped it as casually as if she were commenting on the weather.

—By the way… I have a boyfriend.

—Okay —I replied—. Thanks for letting me know.

—He lives in Sweden, he plays football —she added.

I turned my head toward Lina.

—And you?

She shook her head slowly, without looking away.

—No.

That was it. No explanation, no excuse. From that moment on I started paying attention to the details: the way she looked at me when she spoke, the way she leaned a little toward me so her neckline opened and you could see her nipples without a bra, those silences that, instead of making things awkward, add to them.

—This island makes everything feel different —I said out loud.

—Yeah —she answered—. More intense.

We paid and walked back. The night was humid and still. We barely spoke; there was no need. When we arrived, the hostel was absolutely silent. The pool lit from within, the cabin lights off, nobody around.

—So calm —Frida whispered.

Lina looked at me and smiled. And then I knew it. I didn’t know what was going to happen or how, but I felt it in my stomach and, above all, in my cock, which was already starting to move on its own inside my pants.

***

I suggested we get into the pool, using the heat as an excuse, because that night was truly unbearable. Within minutes, and amid jokes that were getting dirtier little by little, Lina took her bikini off of her own accord. First the top, leaving her tits bare, smaller than they seemed with clothes on but with the nipples hard as stone from the contrast of the cold water. Then she crouched under the water and came up waving the thong in her hand, laughing. I was trying to act calm, but inside I was drooling and my cock was getting rock hard against the fabric of my swim trunks. She started teasing Frida to get her to let loose too, making fun of her, telling her to show me her tits. Frida fired right back: if Lina was so interested, let her show them herself, if she got so turned on by it then she could make me suck them too. And then the two of them turned toward me.

—Which one of us do you want to see? —they asked, laughing.

I acted shy so I wouldn’t get too caught up in their game, even though inside I had just as much desire to play as they did, especially with Lina. I don’t remember exactly what I answered. I do remember seeing them whispering on the other side of the pool, glancing at me and laughing. And then they started coming closer, one on each flank.

The strategy was crystal clear: they were coming to take my trunks off. Frida planted herself in front to distract me, pressing her tits against my chest like nothing, while Lina slipped behind and tried to pull them down. I put on a little show of resisting, but the situation was turning me on too much to play hard to get for real. While she pulled on the fabric, Lina brushed my cock several times with her hand, grabbed it for a second under the water and squeezed it, I suppose not entirely by accident. A gasp escaped me and I tried to hide it with a laugh.

I acted offended and asked them to give me my trunks back. They, getting more and more disobedient, grabbed them and threw them out of the pool with all their strength. It was the best move of the night, because it gave me the perfect excuse to get out of the water completely naked and hard as a rock, and show myself off for a couple of seconds in front of them while pretending to look for the damned trunks. My cock was pointing straight at the ceiling, dripping water, harder than I’d remembered it being in a long time. From outside I saw them looking at each other and licking their lips. They wouldn’t take their eyes off me. I have a normal cock, sixteen centimeters, but from the faces they made you’d think it was the first one they’d ever seen in their lives. Frida bit her lip and Lina, under her breath, muttered something in Swedish I didn’t understand but that sounded like an affectionate insult. I acted oblivious, even though I was catching absolutely everything.

I got back in with the idea of turning the tables on them and stripping them myself. I went straight for Lina and, before I could touch her, she held up her hands.

—Okay, okay, okay, I’ll take it off myself —she said, and got rid of the little she still had on, which was already more or less nothing.

Right then Frida decided to back off and leave us alone. No drama, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She wrapped herself in her towel, winked at us, and walked back toward the cabin with her ass still half exposed. And the two of us were left naked in the water, everything getting more intense by the minute. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against me. Her pussy pressed into my stomach under the water and I felt her breath catch. I went looking for her mouth and we kissed for the first time, a long wet kiss, tongue from the very first second. While we were devouring each other’s mouths I slid my hand down to her cunt and shoved two fingers in at once. She was soaked, and it wasn’t pool water: it was that different consistency, thicker, that you recognize immediately. A moan slipped out against my mouth.

—Fuck, you’re so wet —I whispered in her ear while I kept pushing them in.

—I’ve been like this all night —she answered, and bit my neck.

Sometimes I’d get behind her and feel her push her ass back to find me, rubbing herself against my cock, placing me between her cheeks and moving slowly as if she were asking for it there. Other times she climbed onto my back, her tits flattening against me and her legs open, brushing against the back of my neck. Other times we’d just hold each other without saying anything, and I’d caress her cunt under the water, playing with her clit in slow circles until she started trembling. Until one of those times I asked her to get out and sit on the steps.

It’s not something I do with just anyone, but when I really like a girl and I’m wound up, I love going down and eating her out slowly. I sat her on the edge, spread her legs wide open, and stayed there for a second looking at it before touching it: the pink cunt, almost completely shaved except for a thin strip, the lips swollen and shining. I started on the inside of her thighs, kissing and nibbling, working my way up slowly, deliberately ignoring the clit until she dug her fingers into my hair and pushed my head downward.

—Stop torturing me —she panted.

I gave her the first lick from below, long, flat, with all my tongue. It tasted like pool water and soaked cunt, that mixture that stuck in my mind. I pressed my tongue into her entrance, pushed it in as far as it would go, then moved up to lick her clit in soft circles. She writhed on the edge, squeezed her own tits, pinched her nipples. I slid two fingers into her while I kept sucking her clit, curling them upward to hit that spot inside, the one that gets rough when a girl is close. I stayed there a good while, changing rhythm, reading what she liked by the way she breathed. When I sped up, she arched her back; when I slowed down, she dug her heels into my shoulder blades. I enjoyed watching her enjoy it so much that I lost track of time. When she was already close, with her legs trembling and her breathing broken, she gently pulled my head away.

—Let me finish myself —she whispered, and took her hand down to her clit.

She finished herself off while I watched from below, her face still shining with her juices. She made two quick circles, then another, and came hard, clamping her thighs against my cheeks, biting her arm so she wouldn’t scream. I felt her cunt contract around my fingers, which were still inside her. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked at me with a face I’ll never forget.

I was rock hard, my cock bouncing on its own from how loaded I was. She told me now it was my turn, and I suggested we go up to the room.

—Are you crazy? —she answered—. With all the girls sleeping there, they’ll catch us.

And that is precisely one of the things that has always turned me on the most: doing it where you could be discovered at any moment. We ended up going into the cabin bathroom, the one where the walls are practically made of paper. We got in the shower together, turned on the lukewarm water to cover the noise, and she knelt in front of me without being asked. She took my cock with both hands, brought it to her face, and looked up at me before taking it into her mouth. She started with the tip, giving short licks and sucking just the glans, playing with her tongue on the frenulum until the first gasps escaped me. Then she began swallowing it whole, slowly, down to the base, and came back up leaving a trail of saliva all over my cock.

She didn’t have tons of experience, you could tell in small details, but she put in enough eagerness to make up for everything else, and we were surprisingly in sync. She went down to suck my balls, one by one, while jerking me off with a hand slick with saliva. Then she came back up, took me in again all the way and pushed through the gagging, driving the head herself against my hip. I grabbed her wet hair with both hands and set the pace, without actually forcing her. When she pulled back to breathe, she wiped the drool from her mouth with the back of her hand and went back on the attack.

—I can’t take it anymore, fuck me here —she told me in my ear after a good while, getting up and turning toward the wall.

I separated her legs with my knee, grabbed her ass with both hands, and set my cock at her entrance. She was so wet that it went in with one thrust, all the way, and we both swallowed the moan at the same time. I started fucking her against the wall, right on the other side of where the others were sleeping. Each thrust made a dull sound, my hips crashing into her ass, her tits flattened against the cold tiles. I covered her mouth with my hand so no sound would escape and wake half the cabin, and she bit my fingers and sucked my palm with her tongue to hold in her moans.

I pulled out for a second, made her turn, lifted her by the thighs and pressed her against the wall with her legs around my waist. I put it back in like that, face to face, looking at each other, and started pounding her from below. She held onto my shoulders, digging her nails into me, and dropped her hips every time I came up. We kissed soaked, biting each other’s lips, while the shower kept falling over us. After a while I set her down on the floor, put her on all fours on the tile, with her hands on the edge of the shower tray, and fucked her from behind. From that angle it went even deeper. I put one hand on her neck, the other on her hip, and started fucking her harder, faster, watching her back arched and her ass slapping against my stomach.

After a few minutes, between that rhythm and how loaded I was, I felt my load rising from my balls. When I told her, she opened her eyes wide and turned her face over her shoulder.

—Wait! —she blurted out, and took off for a second, stepping out of the shower completely naked and dripping all over the floor.

Where is she going now?

She came back immediately with her phone in hand. She wanted to record the finish, said no one had ever come on her face and she wanted to take that memory of the island with her. It caught me completely off guard; nothing like that had ever happened to me before. She knelt in front of me again, set the phone on a ledge pointed at her, checked the framing and asked me to press the button. She took me back into her mouth, this time slowly, looking at the camera, playing with the tip of her tongue on the glans, pulling me out and taking me back in while she jerked me off with both hands. She pulled me out completely for a moment and ran me over her face, her cheeks, her closed lips, as if she were rehearsing.

—Come whenever you want —she whispered—. All over my face.

I held on as long as I could, but it was only a few seconds more. I grabbed my cock and started stroking myself a couple of inches from her open mouth. The first spurt hit her straight on the forehead and ran down the bridge of her nose. The second, longer one crossed her cheek and mouth. The following ones I let loose over her tongue, which she had out waiting for them. There were five or six, more than I’d normally release. She swallowed everything that landed in her mouth and kept sucking me until the very last drop, fully aware she was being filmed, not hesitating for a second. Then she ran two fingers over her face, gathering up what was left, and put that in her mouth too while staring straight at the phone, as if none of it had anything to do with her.

I stopped recording. We took a shower together, still half tangled up and laughing, with her washing my soft cock with almost tender care and me soaping her hair. We each went back to our own bunk as if nothing had happened, and it still took me a while to fall asleep, with her smell stuck to my hands. The next morning I exchanged a perfectly normal good morning with Frida, though she held my gaze a couple of seconds longer and smiled sideways, and I had no doubt at all that she’d heard everything from her bed. Meanwhile Lina was packing her bag to catch her ferry.

And that’s the end of my first story. I’ve seen myself as quite clumsy while writing it, so any advice is welcome. I promise I’ll keep improving for the next one. Thanks for making it to the end.