Sex on the beach is hot right, how about sex on the beach PLUS a rash.
That’s what I was left with after a liaison with a not so sexy champion from Manchester. I won’t name names because, to be honest, I don’t remember.
We met at a bar in Phi Phi, Thailand. I was three buckets (as in buckets of alcohol mixed with whatever the locals decide to put in it) deep and started chatting to him.
The next thing I know – and when I saw next thing, I genuinely mean it – we’ve made it halfway across the island and I’m looking for somewhere to fuck.
I spy a beach and clamber down some rocks to find a patch of sand, he eagerly follows behind. Deciding I don’t want to fuck this guy, but feeling the pressure after our epic walk, I decide to suck him off instead.
Getting on my knees, I remember brushing something off them and realised I had been kneeling in some sort of insect nest.
Getting up and moving, I didn’t really grasp how bad it was until the next day and my friend pointed out it looked like my legs were on fire.
We tried to count the bites, but couldn’t keep up. There were at least 100 on each leg, mainly around the knee area, that carried on down my calves and up my thighs.
They were so bad, even the locals gasped in horror and kept stopping me to find out what I had done. Bearing in mind the stuff most people get up to in Thailand, I knew this had to be bad.
In the end I had to get some trousers to cover them, just so the Thai people would stop thinking I had been cursed by something evil. My sex injuries were still hanging around a month later, by which time I was just covered in nasty scabs.
Warning to everyone, if you want hot beach sex DON’T kneel in an insect nest.