This also happened to be my first trip abroad, too. After a friend bailed on plans to travel to Spain together, I decided I’d still use the money I’d been saving to take a spontaneous solo trip. For no apparent reason, I decided to take this trip to Greece. I bought a bunch of “guide to Greece” books and picked out my desired destinations: Athens, Meteora, and Santorini.
But that’s not really what this post is about, is it? I’ll probably share more about the non-hookup part of my Greece trip at a later date, but let’s focus on the subject at hand here.
It was toward the end of my trip that I spent three nights in Santorini. During my alone time, which was most of my time, I often found myself swiping through Tinder, looking for a sexy local boy to bed down in my private room at a student hostel. I was at breakfast–chocolate chip pancakes and a strawberry daiquiri–when I came across Yani. Immediately I texted my mom, “I just found the most beautiful sight in all of Santorini,” and sent her a screenshot of his pic.
Let me outline “my type” here, because it’s pretty important to establish that I’m not generally attracted to the type of man that is considered conventionally attractive. I like long-haired pretty boys. I like lanky, skinny boys with their ribs and hip bones jutting out. I like sharp cheekbones and the gaunt face of a junkie. I like youthful boyishness. I like androgyny. Sometimes I like kinda big noses or fucked up teeth. I love rock and roll, ergo, I love rockers. Almost exclusively.*
Yani had shoulder-length, dyed blonde hair and pouty lips. He was a little on the more muscular side than I tend to go for, but I couldn’t get over his beautiful face. Though he was currently living in Greece, he was actually Australian. We matched, and then we started messaging. I wanted to meet up that night but he was with friends. Okay, we’d try for tomorrow.
The next evening I went to Oia, site of Santorini’s legendary sunsets. I asked him to join me, but he couldn’t for some now-forgotten reason. I had to be on a ferry at 12:30 PM the next day, so I figured we wouldn’t be able to meet up. Disappointing, but what can you do?
I woke up the next morning at 9:00 to a message asking if he could come to my hotel room. I told him about the ferry, and he said that was fine, he’d give me a ride to the port on his scooter. Apparently not all buildings in Santorini have addresses (?), so I gave him the name of my hostel and approximate intersection, and then I waited. Well, I showered and made myself sexy, and then waited.
When he messaged me that he was outside the hostel, I was pretty terrified. But I was also a tad next-day drunk, so I powered through it. Most pleasingly, he looked just like his pictures, so I ran up and gave him a hug. He followed me into my room, I closed the door, and we both kinda just shrugged and started kissing.
After picking me up and tossing me on the bed, he climbed in too and we started undressing each other. I was ecstatic to have this blonde-haired, tanned beauty with a great uncut cock in my little single hotel bed. We grabbed a condom and got down to business.
I was fairly nervous/slightly tipsy, so details are fuzzy. I remember him being pretty rough, which I liked. At some point the condom was no more, and we just kept at it. (Note: I don’t advocate for or recommend doing this. Safety first!) I’ll never forget his heavy Australian accent when he asked, “It’s not safe to blow, right?” as I rode him. For some reason I still smile at the cuteness of that.
Well, it was pretty much time to catch the ferry, so we got dressed and gathered up our belongings. He somehow managed to fit my oversized suitcase on his scooter (I travel heavy), and I climbed on the back, wrapping my arms around his waist. Winding our way down from the hills of Fira to the port, flying down the dirt road with the wind in our hair and the endless sea coming closer and closer, I felt so invigorated. It was romantic and perfect. A scene from a foreign romance film was playing out in my real life.
While we rode down the hill, we talked about our lives back home. I couldn’t understand a lot of what he said, but I distinctly remember the phrase, “Americans and their stupid accents,” which made me laugh. When we got to the port, he carried my suitcase for me up to the line of people that was forming to board the ferry. We kissed and hugged, and I told him, “It was nice to meet you,” with a little giggle. Then he was on his way off.
In all likelihood, I’ll never see Yani again. That was three years ago already, and I think he’s back in Australia. We’re Facebook friends, but we don’t keep in regular contact.
I’ll never forget that experience though. My first hookup abroad.
*Sometimes I’m also attracted to little nerdy dudes with dark hair and glasses. Not sure where that one came from. Maybe a high school science teacher or something.