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I wasn't really feeling up to a trip to Ibiza, having just finished my first year of varsity and just wanting to get home and be with my family. 'Oh come on, Charlotte,' my friends said, in their usual winey tone that always got me to do what they wanted, regardless of my resistance, and of course, again, I agreed.
They said it would just be for a week, after all!
Ibiza was beautiful, and all inhibitions seemed to go out the window on the Spanish coast. I soon found myself entered into a wet t-shirt competition, and again, resistance was futile. On stage though, all the wolf-whistles and edging on from the crowd made me believe, in that moment at least, that I was actually quite attractive.
After winning first prize, I left the stage, feeling quite pleased with myself, and feeling strangely aroused. I bumped against three guys, all noticeably hard, and found myself back in my hotel room submitting to these three strangers in ways I never thought I ever would.
And it was certainly a trip for the memory books
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