The heartbreaking impracticality of hooking up in a hostel [FM]

*I tried to write this a million ways without it coming out like a tale where Nicolas Sparks fucked Casablanca, but here we are.*

This is the ONLY time I will ever use someone’s real name.

Noah I hope you see this. You should have gotten my number, Dude. I wish we had stayed friends.

When I was young I traveled a lot by myself. I was writing then and had an online job. Sometimes I didn’t use the best judgment of where I landed.

I took a day trip to one country in particular that was not somewhere I probably should have gone. Like, their government collapsed on my way there and I landed in the middle of a protest. I was so naive this barely even phased me. I literally just holed up in a cafe and waited for things to chill.

A dude approached me.

I was not into meeting other people at this point in life. Tbh I was hyper-fixated on finishing my first book and felt any friend I made was a distraction from writing.

So I did what women do when they travel and want someone to fuck off, I pretended I didn’t speak English. I just kind of shrugged and gave an apologetic look.

He started laughing. “I’ve seen you in my hostel. I know you’re American.”

*He was Australian. That was cool.*

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I get it, but considering there’s a riot happening outside I was wondering if you wanted help getting out of the city.”

“It’s not that bad.”

*They were spraying rubber bullets outside.*

“Why don’t you take a walk with me?”

“I don’t know you.”

“That’s what the walk is for.”

“I don’t want to make friends, sorry.”

“It’s a walk and then we’ll never see each other after today. What’s the harm?”

“Ok just promise you won’t ask for my number or anything after.”

“Deal.”

He was cute. I agreed.

Things started out pretty light-hearted. We just kind of laughed at where we were and talked about places we had traveled.

“You’ve been alone two months?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t get lonely?”

“I prefer it. I’m finally writing and you learn a lot about yourself when you’re alone.”

“But if you change locations and travel alone, you never have time to make friends. Everyone is surface level.”

And that’s when we decided to have a deep conversation and be 100% honest. Because why the fuck not? I’d never see him again. He had agreed this was a one day thing.

We actually did get really deep. We got into like childhood trauma and thoughts on organized religion kind of deep.

“You know I hate American politics but I love America.” He told me, “I was once in San Francisco and I had sex with a girl in the bathroom. She left and a guy came in and I fooled around with him.”

“Holy fuck, you’re bi?”

And that is how we got into our bisexual stories. He had some crazy-ass stories too. Bro had really fucked his way across Europe. He had a foursome with three women. I was impressed.

I gave him a run for his money though. I too once had a crazy-ass girlfriend.

We did talk about sex a lot but we also talked about life generally. Like, I told him shit I had never told anyone in my life. We got deep.

*Meanwhile the world was falling down around us.*

After like the fourth fire we saw, he finally convinced me we should get on a train and cross the border.

When we were on our way, I told him to tell me something he would never say to someone he was going to see again.

“You’re very attractive,” he said. “Your turn.”

“I know I’m attractive.”

We both burst out laughing.

“The first time I saw you in the hostel I thought we had a connection. I watched you for a while. That’s why I went up to you in the cafe.”

“I don’t remember seeing you in the hostel.”

“Maybe I was just hoping it was reciprocated.”

“Maybe it is now.”

And that, my friends, is how I ended up passionately making out with a guy I had just met on a train in Eastern Europe.

When we did finally get back to the city across the border, he adorably held my hand as we made our way back to our hostel.

He convinced me to have a drink with him at the hostel bar. Then another. Then another.

We were solidly tipsy.

“Tell me something you wouldn’t tell someone you’re going to see again,” I told him.

“I got hard on the train.”

I giggled. “I kind of figured. It was hot.”

“I thought about kissing you all day actually.”

I shrugged. “I thought about fucking you but that’s not going to happen.”

“What about a good old fashioned fool around?”

The problem here is we were both staying in dorms. Dorms with bunk beds. Mine was all-female and he had 12 people in his room.

“We can go to the bathroom,” he suggested.

“I don’t know if I want to be another American you hook up with in the bathroom. This seems to be a pattern with you.”

We both laughed. “Alright America, let’s just cuddle in my bed.”

“Cuddle?”

“Oh yes, I’m a top notch spooner.”

*He really was adorable.*

“Alright sir, just cuddling. I’m not about to get called out in a room with 12 people.”

*We did not just cuddle.*

We crawled into his bed and immediately start making out. It’s super hot. Like he puts himself on top of me and very, very tenderly strokes my cheek and hair as we kiss.

Bro, it’s so hard to stay quiet when you have random chemistry like this.

“We’re breaking all your rules,” he whispered.

I moved his hand to my breast in response and let him feel me up over my shirt.

We engaged in some grade A, top notch dry humping.

*Damn, we weren’t even moving the bed and we were being hella quiet. This guy was a hostel pro.*

He turned me over so we were spooning and kissed my ear and neck. He didn’t actually *just* kiss, but full-on licked. It was unexpected but pretty hot.

“Hey America, can I do something?” He asked as he put his hand in between my legs. My breathing hitched. “I’m really good at this,” he whispered. “Really, I have a gift.”

*Who am I to deny a man his gift?*

I unbuckled my jeans and let him pull them down.

*With all that, we were quiet AF. I was so proud of us.*

“Think your can stay quiet?” He asked. I nodded.

*Staying quiet is not my strong suit, but this will be a fun test.*

Ok the man did have a gift. Most dudes go straight to plunging fingers but he just kept his hand straight and let it slide in between my legs so I could move back and forth on my clit.

*Nice move, Australia. You have fucked a lot.*

His damn hand was driving me insane but I had to go very, very slowly as I rubbed against him to keep from making a sound. As one point I let out a whimper and he laughed shushed me. “We’re going to get kicked out if you moan. You have to be quiet.”

Sometimes going slow is just sweet agony, even though when he started biting my ear it was very hard to stay quiet.

“You usually scream, right?” He whispered.

I nodded.

“Fuck I wish I could hear it. In another life I’d make you scream, America.”

*Dude, I’ve had a thing for Australian accents since this guy. He was hella good at dirty talk.*

He flipped me over so he could face me as he continued to move his hand. He leaned into me and let me moan into his mouth as we started making out again.

*Still we were being so quiet. I am very proud of our discretion.*

He reached a hand up my shirt and under my bra. I had to arch my back and bite my lip to keep in a whimper

*Oh fuck. I’m getting close. I told myself to stay quiet.*

He was hard as he brushed against my leg which only made this situation hotter. He was trying to kill me.

He threw a hand over my mouth as I came and whispered in my ear. “Imagine if we actually had our own room.”

*Holy fuck. If only we had a room I would have fucked this guy silly*

Was it torture coming without making a sound? Yes. But it was also fucking hot. My whole body shook.

“You do have a gift” I whispered after I caught my breath.

“I’m just proud of us for staying quiet.”

We had done it. No one even knew…. Or so we thought.

“What was that?” Someone said in the darkness with a strange accent.

“I think that Australian dude just finger banged a girl.” A voice called back.

We both burst out laughing… apparently we were not quiet as we had thought.

*This part makes me sad.*

I fell asleep in his dorm and we got breakfast the next morning. We were going separate directions.

He carried my pack out and we waited for my bus. “You’re a cool person, V.”

“So are you Noah. I’m glad I met you.”

*Ask for my number damn it. Ask for my Facebook. Ask for my damn WhatsApp.*

He didn’t. He said goodbye. I really wish he had broken that promise.

I sincerely do wish I could find him. Not even for sex (I’m married). I honestly just want to know what happened to him.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/sj7mx0/the_heartbreaking_impracticality_of_hooking_up_in