The first time I successfully shocked myself was when I lost my virginity. I had done the unthinkable. Not for one moment had I believed that I was capable of breaking a rule.

Taking risks is so not my style: that's why I still carry my own condoms. 

The second time I shocked myself was when I cheated on my boyfriend. It was with the perfect playboy, one who could smoothly drop two lines of Victorian poetry when the situation demanded it. Between making out in libraries and shamelessly admitting that he was bigger than anything I'd ever seen, I figured I was hopeless at monogamy. 

Eventually, I just got to a point when I mildly surprised myself every time I did something sexually "deviant". Over the years, I've slowly undermined the illusion of stability in other people's marriages, laughed at my own fake sense of heterosexuality, lost sensation in my jaw while licking pussy, figured perianal teasing is a big deal for the guys but just a day's work for me, diligently made a record of everyone I f***ed, and got a pap-smear every birthday.

I'm such a good girl, actually. If you come to think of it.

I play Tinder like Sachin plays cricket. It's f***ing hard work, but I'm definitely gifted. It's gotten to the point where I almost always swipe left, but every time I do swipe right, I'm matched. If I went on to tell you about the reality singing sensations, IPL super stars, or your most bearded actors who've gotten in bed with me, I'd have to write a boringly long book. The real juice is all in the everyday bros. 

Let's consider your average good looker. He's had his fair share of luck with women, and he's not insecure about how big his d*** is. That gives him a stable sense of calm, actually. He's in a 'not-so-bad' job. He's also smart and has an element of nice. There's nothing wrong with him except that he's super impressed with me. I've heard "Beauty and brains and enticing eyes" on loop, along with a Halleluj-ia compliment about my big, brown areolas. Sometimes I swipe right on them. It kinda, sorta triggers a chain of delightful events. 

It all started on a crisp sunny day in March. My quest to sleep with two gorgeous men, at the same time. 

There is no time like a summer afternoon to procrastinate. And the therapeutic motion of swiping left always allows me to think of the more important things in the back of my head. And so, as I was mulling over the frightening connection between the inflating dollar and the previous repo rate cut, I saw him. Just so that I can pretend to hide his identity, I'll call him Jeremy. Jeremy had a nice smile and bright eyes, but it was the thought of his broad shoulders arching over me that made me swipe right. I spoke to him for a bit and he said nothing to sound very fun, so I left it at that and got on with my life. 

Several months later, I was back on the procrastination sensation that was gripping my imagination. I was swiping left so hard and so fast that day, that I almost missed Caleb. I remember shrieking a little bit as I stopped mid-way and dragged my thumb back to the centre of the screen. Caleb had a nice smile and bright eyes, but it was the thought of his broad shoulder arching over me that made me swipe right. There was this additional pang in my heart that somehow felt familiar, making me open the chat screen and send him a message right away. As my fingers hovered over my keyboard, I typed out the pick-up line that came most naturally to me: "Do you have a brother called Jeremy?"

Like I said, I surprise myself everyday. 

I spent the rest of the week sending WhatsApp broadcasts to both of them, and these grown ass men who nearly looked like a pair of David Beckhams were sitting in adjoining rooms oblivious to what I was doing. Time and again, I reminded them that I had eyes for their brother. 

"So whom do you want to meet?" they'd ask. 

"Both of you!" I'd remind them.

"Okay, so when do you want to meet ME?" they'd dodge. 

I gave them both a time and a place. I doubt they knew what they were doing until they left home.  

Coffee was the most popat thing that ever happened to me. The CCTV cameras of Starbucks probably facepalmed themselves until their PCBs broke. If I even tried to flirt with Caleb, Jeremy would pull his leg. If Jeremy tried to flirt with me, Caleb would helpfully subtitle it. Thankfully for me, they were tired of the charade more easily than I was. We decided to "do something else", beginning a chain of another god-forsaken bhajan of "Where do you want to go, no, where do you want to go?"

I popped my Uber app open and declared, "I'm going home." As much as I'd have wanted to walk arm in arm with both of them together, I did not want to endure another minute of boredom and sexual frustration. It felt like chewing into refrigerated chicken biryani. But like the true lesser a**hole, Caleb immediately said, "Oh wait, we could drop you home!", and that was the absolute last chance I'd give them.

I don't remember how I negotiated taking them upstairs with me, but it happened. Small talk was stifling us like the Delhi smog eventually would, but at least in the comfort of my own sofa, I could make myself at home. I made eye contact with Jeremy just long enough for him to attack my face. He, for once, knew what he wanted. Caleb on the other hand, did not register any shock in his expression.

He did avoid looking at us in the beginning, except to ask me if he could roll a joint and did I mind? 

In no time, I had one brother high on weed, the other one high on dominance, and hands all over my naked body. I was so afraid of how much Caleb could potentially hurt me, that I blowed him forever, and for that, Jeremy made me pay a... price. To them, it was just the half, but for me, it was twice as much. And every time I took a break, exhausted by how overwhelming it all was, I'd feel those hands over me again, and mixed taunts in my ears:

"Is that the best you can do?"

But of course it was! I hadn't exactly walked out of a porn script! I threw my hands up and told them, that's all I had in me. "Is there something you want to do about it?" I asked, and unlocked the treasure chest of logic in their brains that made them lift me up in their strong arms in every which way and finally HAVE ME. Thank the f***ing Lord! 

Eventually, the circus and the overload of sensations came to an end and we collapsed next to each other on my bed. The last thing I remember was how I said something about Jeremy's perfect tushie when he walked to the bathroom. I'm pretty sure they did the responsible thing of properly locking my door behind them when they left, bless them.

Everyone I've ever told this story to, tells me that I'm crazy and lucky, all in the same breath. Some men think it's hot, the others are rather intimidated. But me? I just tell myself that I love my body and all that it can feel. I love that I choose to have sex with exactly whoever I want, whenever I want, and however I want. I dwell on how good it feels to turn down someone when I don't want to grind, and easily carry on without being distracted after I have great sex. 

But Jeremy and Caleb were special to me. I really like them. They gave me all the pleasure in the world and didn't get carried away in the process. They stopped like good little boys when I said 'No' to something. They let me have the autonomy over my body and they didn't s***-shame me, even in the heat of the moment. 

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