Sex Above the Sparkling City

Three years ago I was on top of the mountain, at a party in a squat, in Can Mas Deu. I went with my flatmate, a musician, Pluton. He introduced me to the most beautiful drag queen I had ever seen and we spent hours kissing. The forest was full of fairy lights, all of Barcelona was sparkling below us, everything was sparkling at the edges. There was live music, Balkan, gypsy ska, and hundreds of people. Collserola on a beautiful night at the beginning of summer. I wandered away, taking a break from dancing, and walked into the forest. I came across a clearing where there were three people about my own age, in their mid-twenties, two boys and a girl. All of them were exceptionally beautiful. They smiled at me and came towards me, one of the boys took my hand, the other two kissed me very gently on the neck. It all felt perfectly natural. We stayed there, all four of us kissing, and began to take each others clothes off, slowly, quickly, tenderly, urgently. There was never at any point a moment where anyone was left alone, no moments of awkwardness, everything flowed, we each came two or three times. Afterwards, we dressed and lay there, curled up together and slept, woke, watched as the sun rose from the sea over the city and drenched us all in pink morning light. We spent all day on the mountain there together and traveled back down the mountain as the evening light was fading. I never saw any of them again.