My Friend Told Me About Her Threesome in Balneário Camboriú

It was a Friday night at my place, with a bottle of white wine half-finished and YouTube playing softly in the background. Sofía was sprawled out on the beanbag in my room, wearing an oversized T-shirt that covered her to her knees and nothing underneath, as always. We’d been talking about whatever for three hours when she burst out laughing, pinned me with her eyes, and made that face that said, “I’m about to blow your mind with what I have to tell you.”

—Marti, remember when I told you that on that trip with my mom I was at a “party”? I never gave you the details. Do you want me to tell you everything, but everything everything?

I sat up at once, eyes wide.

—Obviously, you little slut. Start from the beginning, in full detail.

Sofía covered her face for a second, took a long sip, and began.

—It was a few years ago, in December. I was nineteen. I went with my mom by car from Buenos Aires to Balneário Camboriú, two days of hellish travel. We got there on the twenty-eighth and spent the first few days in a little hotel downtown, kind of cockroach-infested. We walked along Avenida Atlântica, ate pizza pastel from street stalls, wandered through the downtown shopping centers.

—You were already pretty round back then —I teased her.

—Overweight, yeah. I was hovering around ninety-five kilos. Thank God the kilos went to my tits and ass at least, otherwise it would’ve been worse. I tried on bikinis that were tight all over me. My mom, meanwhile, would come out of the fitting room and the salespeople would say, “Que senhora linda, parece ter trinta anos no máximo.” Me next to her, invisible.

She sighed, settled herself on the beanbag, and went on.

—The first few days we went to Praia Central, Praia Brava, Praia de Laranjeiras. Each one had its own vibe. My mom, at forty-three, was a goddess: big tits, white skin, a couple extra kilos but in all the right places. She’d walk along the beach in a simple one-piece suit and all the men would smile at her, ask where she was from, if she was alone. The ones who spoke well, the ones who seemed to have money, the ones who looked like ideal boyfriend material. She’d laugh modestly and answer, “Obrigada, vim com minha filha.” Me next to her, in my black microbikini that barely covered anything, my hundred-and-twenty tits bouncing, my ass spilling out at the sides. And do you know who talked to me? The worst ones. The drunk fat guy from the kiosk. The old-tattooed guy who smelled like warm beer. The one who’d say, “Come on, baby, I’ll buy you a drink,” with a face that said, “I know you’re desperate.” It made my blood boil.

—And what did you do?

—I got pissed, but I pushed my cleavage out more and walked with my head held high, like saying, “Behold my tits, you sons of bitches.” Pure backbone.

She laughed at herself and took another sip.

—One night, after a whole day at Praia Central, my mom met a Brazilian guy at the hotel. Around forty-five, classy, with a car. He invited her for a drink at a restaurant in Barra Sul, nothing crazy. She got dressed in a short dress, put on makeup, and left happy, smiling like a little girl. “I’ll be back early, behave yourselves.” I stayed behind alone staring at the ceiling. It pissed me off. Pure envy. She had a guy who treated her well and I had nothing. I put the microbikini on under a pair of shorts, grabbed a beer from the minibar, and went out for a walk on the beach at night.

—Alone?

—Alone. It was completely dark, you could only see the distant lights from the closed kiosks. Ten minutes later a kid about twenty showed up, Argentine like me, skinny, with long hair. He saw me sitting in the sand and came over insistently: “Alone, gorgeous? Want some company?” At first I ignored him, but he kept going: “You’re really pretty, look at those curves.” He was talking to me nice, not like those grabby creeps from before. He was from Mendoza, on vacation alone. And I, dying to feel desired, kept the conversation going. We kissed quickly. He took me behind some rocks where nothing could be seen.

She lowered her voice.

—I knelt on the cold sand and pulled his shorts down. I sucked him slowly at first, then faster, deep throat like I know how to do. He was moaning softly and telling me, “You’re a goddess.” I got so turned on that I kept going until the end. I swallowed everything, hot and thick, while he held my hair with both hands. Then he kissed my cheek and left saying, “Thanks, baby.” I went back to the hotel trembling, with sand on my knees and the taste of semen in my mouth.

What a fucking bitch, I thought. But I let her keep going.

—The next day I woke up feeling like the worst whore in the world. Why did I do it? Just to feel like somebody wanted me for a little while. My mom was radiant. “The guy was a gentleman, we talked all night, he made me laugh. Nothing more, but how lovely.” I smiled fake and thought: she’s happy with a conversation and a dinner, and I sucked a dick on the beach for nothing. The guy didn’t even give me his Instagram. I felt dirty. But I still put the microbikini on and went to the beach like nothing had happened.

—And that’s where you met the three of them —I said.

—There. They were playing soccer in the sand. Nicolás —an Argentine, twenty-four, tall, dark-haired, with defined abs and a bulge you couldn’t ignore—, Bruno —another Argentine, twenty-three, skinny blond, very preppy—, and Gabriel —a Brazilian, twenty-five, white skin but black hair and that cocky grin—. We started by talking bullshit, drinking caipirinhas at a kiosk, walking along the shore, eating açaí. All very innocent. I liked Nicolás a lot; he talked softly, made me laugh. And it seemed like he liked me too.

—And how did you get to the house?

—On the fourth day Nicolás invited me. “Come have a drink, Sofía, I’ll take you back later.” My mom was tired and let me go. I got there at eight with a little bottle of vodka. The house was small: a tiny bed in the living room and the other two rooms had single beds, pretty badly made.

—Easy to see where this was going.

—Easy to see where this was going. We started drinking. At first we talked nonsense, then Gabriel suggested games. “Let’s play Never Have I Ever, but dirty.” We started off mild and it got spicy right away.

—“Never have I ever fucked a fat girl,” said Bruno, and everyone drank except me. I blushed, but I laughed.

—“Never have I ever had a threesome,” said Nicolás, looking at me. I drank. They went wild.

—“Never have I ever gotten head on the beach,” said Gabriel. Everyone drank.

Sofía laughed at her own story and went on.

—“Never have I ever fucked without a condom,” said Bruno. I drank again. Gabriel looked at me, let out, “Essa é safada pra caralho,” and everyone cracked up. We moved on to Truth or Dare. We always chose dare.

—“Dare: Sofía takes off her shirt and stays in her bikini,” said Nicolás. I did it. My huge tits bounced and the three of them just stared like drooling idiots.

—“Dare: Nicolás kisses Sofía on the mouth for thirty seconds,” said Gabriel. We kissed. Tongue and everything.

—“Dare: Sofía touches the bulges of all three over their shorts,” said Bruno.

—“Guys, no, I feel weird about that,” I played hard to get.

—“It’s just a game,” Bruno reassured me.

—I agreed, laughing nervously. I could feel the three of them were already rock-hard.

—“Dare: Sofía sucks Nicolás’s cock for two minutes,” said Gabriel.

—“Oh, come on,” I said, half laughing, half embarrassed. I knelt down, pulled his shorts down, and started. Nicolás was moaning. The other two watched and rubbed themselves through their clothes.

—Then everything exploded —I cut in.

—It exploded. “Last round of dare,” Gabriel said with a smile: “Sofía has to fuck the three of us tonight.” I stayed silent for a second, looking at Nicolás. The alcohol had given me courage. “Oh guys, that’s a bit much,” I answered, acting difficult. But inside I’d already fucked so many that I thought: what’s three more? “Fine, but only with condoms, okay? Don’t be idiots.”

—And they started right away?

—It started all clumsy and slow. First just with Nicolás. He threw me on the bed, which was small, uncomfortable, dipped in the middle, and creaked horribly. He took off my bikini. He started licking my pussy slowly. I was nervous, laughing and moaning at the same time. Then he put on a condom and penetrated me vaginally. The bed was moving, I didn’t know where to put my legs. He slipped once and almost fell. We both laughed our asses off.

—“Now put it in my ass,” I asked him. Gabriel went to the kitchen and came back with some coconut oil they had for cooking. “This works as homemade lube,” he said. Nicolás put on another condom, slathered himself up, and went in slowly from behind. It hurt a little at first. I was making weird faces and telling him, “Hey, slower, dumbass.” The bed was creaking so hard it felt like it was going to break. Bruno and Gabriel were watching and jerking off silently.

—Then the other two joined in. It was a coordinated disaster. Gabriel tried to get underneath for vaginal, but the bed was so small Nicolás almost fell when he tried to enter from behind. We were laughing nervously. In the end we managed it: Gabriel in the pussy, Nicolás in the ass, and I was sucking Bruno off. It was clumsy: our heads bumped into each other, my tits were swinging everywhere, I was coughing when Bruno shoved it in too deep, the bed made an infernal racket.

—We changed positions however we could. Me on top of Gabriel, Nicolás behind trying anal again, but the condom kept slipping off and we had to stop to add more oil. Bruno in my mouth. At one point I tried to get two dicks in my mouth at once and they wouldn’t fit, so I just licked them together while drooling all over the place. The three of them laughed and said, “This little girl sucks cock like a dream.”

—They fucked me for almost an hour and a half like that, changing all the time because nothing was ever perfectly smooth. Always with condoms in pussy and ass. I was sweating, my tits bouncing everywhere, moaning and laughing. In the end they put me on my knees on the floor. They took the condoms off and the three of them jerked off onto my face and tits. They covered me: Nicolás and Gabriel came in my mouth, Bruno on my tits. I was wrecked, with cum dripping everywhere, but happy.

—Before I cleaned up I pulled out my little digital camera and told them: “Come on, I want photos. I want to remember this forever.” They took like twenty. Me with my face and tits covered, smiling with my tongue out. One with two dicks in my mouth. Another surrounded by the three dicks. A solo selfie, showing my asshole spread open. The next day I was sore, but I still went to the beach with them. My mom never found out.

Sofía took another sip, looked at me with a satisfied-slut face, and dropped it:

—You have no idea what those photos are like. I still have them saved.

I held back from asking her for them. Another night, I thought. Sofía set down her glass and went on.

—After that crazy night, the next day I went back to Nicolás’s place like nothing had happened. I got there in the afternoon, after telling my mom I was going to “hang out with friends.” He opened the door alone. The other two had gone surfing. He looked at me with a different smile, not as filthy as the night before. “Come in,” he said. “Today it’s just us.”

—It was really nice, Marti. Nothing clumsy or rushed. We kissed slowly at the door, he took me to the bed and we put several sheets underneath to muffle the creaking. He undressed me calmly. He licked my pussy until I came shaking. Then he fucked me normally, with a condom at first, but then he asked without one and I agreed. I felt truly desired, I felt safe. We did missionary, me on top, spooning. We repeated it like three times that afternoon. He moaned softly in my ear, “You’re beautiful, Sofía,” and I believed him a little. In the end he came inside me. We stayed hugging, staring at the ceiling, laughing about the night before. He told me it had felt a little weird to share me, but since he saw I was into it he had no problem. That he’d still felt jealous.

—And did you keep seeing him the whole time you were there?

—Almost every day I went to see him alone. Sometimes at the house, sometimes on the beach hidden away, fucking fast but tender. Once he took me to a lookout near Molhe da Barra Sul at sunset and we did it there, with the sea in the background. I sucked him to the end and a “I love you” slipped out. He smiled at me affectionately. I felt like I was in a movie, even though I knew it was just vacation. Before I went back to Buenos Aires, Nicolás asked for my number. “When you’re in BA, we’ll meet up. I want to keep seeing you.” I told him yes, excited. I thought: “Maybe this is finally going to happen for me.”

—But there’s a but —I guessed.

—There’s a but. The second-to-last day, after waking up with Nicolás and having really nice morning sex, I went out for a walk alone along Praia Brava to clear my head. That’s when a huge Brazilian showed up, about twenty-six, dark-skinned, muscular, with a dragon tattooed on his arm. He came on hard: “Oi, gata, vem cá.” I was still horny from the morning sex and, I don’t know, I said yes. He took me to an apartment he was staying in, far from the beach, but really nice.

—It was rough, Marti. He grabbed me by the hair, bent me over, pulled down my bikini and shoved his dick in right away. No condom, no foreplay. He fucked me hard, really hard, slapped my ass, squeezed my tits forcefully. It hurt a lot, but I liked it more. I felt alive. I moaned “mais forte” because I wanted to feel something intense. He gave me anal almost with no lube and I had several orgasms in a row. He came in my mouth and made me swallow. Then he sent me off, had the courtesy to pay for my Uber, and I went back to the hotel. In the car, with sand stuck to me and semen in my throat, I felt very used, but very, very alive. More woman than ever.

—The last day I went back to Nicolás. We fucked again, really nicely: low lights, soft music, him looking me in the eyes while he fucked me slowly. Then we stayed lying in bed talking. He told me about his life in Buenos Aires, that he works at a consultancy, that he likes movies, that he travels a lot. I told him about college, my friends, my insecurities. We noticed we had a ton in common: we both hate the cold, love barbecue, dream of traveling through Europe. It seemed perfect.

—And then, without thinking, I told him about the Brazilian from the day before. “Yesterday I met a guy on the beach and he invited me to his apartment. And it happened.” He went quiet. I saw his face change: his eyes hardened, he smiled stiffly. He didn’t say anything bad, just, “Ah, okay, that’s crazy.” But I noticed disgust and disappointment in his eyes. He thought: “This girl is way too much of a slut.” He gave me a dry goodbye kiss and never wrote to me again. Not even a message when I got back to Buenos Aires. Nothing.

—Interesting, for a guy who shared you with two friends —I said.

—Very interesting. Seems sharing is fine, but me sharing myself with another guy on my own isn’t.

Sofía stared at her glass for a long while, with a bitter smile.

—And that’s when I realized the contrast, Marti. My mom didn’t have sex even once on the whole trip. But the Brazilian she met took her to the best places: romantic dinners, fresh oysters with an ocean view, sunset strolls, lunches at restaurants overlooking the bay. She came back to the hotel glowing, telling me, “He was such a gentleman, he made me laugh, we talked about everything.” They agreed to see each other in Argentina when he comes for work. She was happy without opening her legs. I fucked four different guys, sucked off another one, got filled with semen, felt desired for a while and then empty. Always the same: me, the slut who takes everything, her, the one who wins without trying. It’s unfair.

She laughed softly, but her eyes were sad.

—Maybe one day I’ll find a Nicolás who won’t be disgusted. Or maybe not. But for now, this is what I got.

She lifted her glass to toast.

—Want to see the photos from that night? —she asked, with a wicked smile—. Or would you rather help me forget Nicolás with another little drink?

I handed her the bottle. The photos could wait.