Three men and a mountain

10 November 2017

I fucked three different men on this trip. I’ve thought a lot about why, my motivations, what I got out of it and enjoyed about it. And I’ve decided that it was because I wanted to. With Shane and Bryan I had a near instant attraction. Craig was more a slow burn. But who the fuck is Craig you ask? And hang on, when did I fuck Bryan?

I flew back into Kathmandu on Monday morning, 6 November 2017. I had had slim hopes of seeing Shane again but it turned out the boys were on a late flight and were hanging at the same Irish pub where we’d met. I hightailed it over there early afternoon and got to spend a few more hours with all three of the guys before Shane and I returned to my hotel.

The sex was as great, as it had been pre-trek, and I was genuinely sad to see him go. But Bryan wasn’t on the same flight, and wasn’t leaving until tomorrow. After farewelling Shane and Thomas, Bryan and I kept drinking. And drinking. He confessed that he’d wanted to kiss me that first night but Shane had gotten in first.

Bryan and I on the streets of Thamel.

I asked if he had any qualms about kissing me after I had just been with Shane. When he replied none, it seemed only natural that he would also come home with me that evening. Bryan was as different to Shane as you can be but still an exceptional fuck. He made me squirt and when I exclaimed with surprise and told him my experience, he told me that every girl deserves a guy that can make her squirt. Bryan left early to pack his bag for his 9am flight.

Avid readers will recall it’s not the first time I’d have more than one guy in a day and I felt no shame about the experience. I was single. I was travelling. I was having fun and both boys had treated me with respect.

Now for Craig. I took a side trip to Pokhara after I returned to Kathmandu. It was a 30-minute flight and was supposed to be beautiful and quiet after the chaos of the capital. I had no real plans once I got there and knew little to nothing about it except that it was the doorstop to the Annapurna region and a world famous paragliding site.

I splurged on a nice hotel, right on the main street, across the road from Phewa Lake in the area aptly called Lakeside. I only had two nights there so I was keen to get out and explore. I wandered on my own the first afternoon, checking out the vicinity around my hotel, the main drag, the bars and got myself a massage from a blind girl that finally fixed my fucked Achilles.

But the next morning, I was having breakfast in my hotel and swiping on Tinder. I was less interested in finding a fuck as I was in finding someone to hang out with. Enter Craig. We matched and started messaging as I ate and it turned out his hotel was only a couple of hundred metres down the same road. He was just sitting down to breakfast so he suggested I come meet him for coffee. His profile told me he was American, a tour guide and my age. He sounded adventurous and I thought, worse case, I meet him and leave. No dramas.

He was sitting on the front porch of his hotel, his breakfast being served as I approached. We drank plunge coffee and he ate while we went through the usual get-to-know-you rigmarole, minus the alcohol. He had just trekked Annapurna base camp and was still deciding what to do next. He was on a months’ vacation from his job as a tour guide with various tour agencies though North America. So far he’d ticked my boxes for travel and adventure and we agreed that going for a wander and seeing where we ended up would be a good start to the day.

We walked alongside the lake until we ran out of path and then walked on the grass. Talking, talking, all the time talking, sharing travel stories and anecdotes from our respective treks. We hailed a taxi and told it to take us to the old town, that most ancient part of Pokhara, and when that turned out to be average, told the driver to take us to the highest lookout instead. I love doing this while travelling; jumping in a taxi or tuk tuk and seeing the sights, stopping whether we felt like. Driving along a winding, narrow road that circumnavigated the mountain where unregulated paragliders regularly risk their lives, Craig’s arm stole surreptitiously behind me, stopping on my head rest.

We laughed and joked and ended up at one of the dozens of bars by the lake, drinking cocktails and beer. One of the Canadians Craig had met on Annapurna walked by and we invited him to join us. As the sun went down, we moved on to a larger bar and restaurant with a stupid name I can’t remember. It was there, some point between drinks that Craig and I finally kissed and we said goodbye to his Canadian friend.

Lakeside in Pokhara.

We dropped by Craig’s hotel first, but I can’t remember why. Our clothes were off in seconds and we drunkenly fucked half on and off one of the twin beds in his room. And we didn’t muck around. I let Craig fuck me in the arse, which I never usually do with someone I don’t know well. Admittedly, he was much smaller than Shane and Bryan. I would never in a million years let Shane do that. I’d be torn in half.

Then for unknown reasons, we dressed and walked on to my hotel, where the fucking resumed. It didn’t disappoint and then next morning, after breakfast, I brought him to a hard orgasm by giving him a blowjob.

So, that was Craig, but I digress. Of these three men, I wanted all of them to like me. To want me more. To want to message me and call me and even ask me to keep travelling with them. And when that fantasy didn’t eventuate, I felt disappointed, stupid, foolish. When did I become so desperate for men to like me longer than it takes for them to nut? Of Craig, I’ve heard nothing at all aside from him accepting my friend request on Facebook. Of Bryan the same. Shane is the only one to message me. But, he lives in Melbourne and there’s no future. But part of me, oh so desperately wants there to be a future with “someone”. I hate this lonely feeling. Much as I hate not knowing what’s next for me. The unknowing is driving me a little crazy. I don’t want to go back to work in the ordinary sense. I can’t see myself doing it, can’t picture that as my life.

Today on the flight from Kathmandu to Kuala Lumpur, I caught the eye of the male flight attendant several times. I watched him walk up the aisle and found myself intensely attracted to him. I can’t remember the last time I felt such a longing for an absolute stranger. It was weird and wild and strangely freeing. To feel no boundaries or restraints. I actually found myself thinking, this is not you.

But why can’t it be?

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