I dated one of the FBoys from FBoy Island. Two years later he asked for a copy of our sex tape.

Warning: This post is NSFW.

There I was, lying in bed on my day off, aimlessly scrolling through the black hole of Instagram when I came across a familiar face. And I knew straight away that I needed to warn someone. Anyone. Everyone? But most importantly, the ladies of FBoy Island.

Why you might ask? Because I dated one of the contestants and the thought still makes me sick. And let me assure you, there is no guessing game here. This one is the real thing. A real FBoy. And this is a completely f**ked up story.

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Friend with benefits.

We first met overseas in 2019. I’d just been dumped and was having the best weekend of my newly single life. He was with a bunch of loud Aussies and the centre of the party, which meant he was exactly my type.

That night we ended up back at his hostel. An eight bedroom dorm with just a flimsy sleeping bag to cover our dignity. But on the bottom bunk, I drew the line, and we fell asleep together.

Back home, I realised that the as-yet undiscovered FBoy lived 10 minutes up the road and he invited me over for dinner the following Friday night. He offered to cook. 'How romantic,' I thought. Except by the time I’d gotten there, he'd gotten hungry and eaten his own serving of spag bol. Weird, but OK.

It wasn’t until he put on an episode of a reality dating show that he'd been in previously (I’m sensing a pattern here), that I started to question my life choices. Was this his move? Was this meant to woo the ladies? I was confused.

While he did lack general manners, what wasn't lacking was his performance in the bedroom. By the time we ended up under his own sheets — without anyone else in the room — it was explosive. So, for the women of FBoy Island, at least there’s that.

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And it definitely wasn’t something that I wanted to give up, even when I realised that he wasn’t for me and was seven years younger with the maturity to match. Like an overexcited labrador, my FBoy was mostly sweet with boundless energy. Plus, he had the ability to deliver multiple orgasms.

So instead I found myself with a fairly reliable friend with benefits. Which maybe means I only have myself to blame? Don’t hate the player, hate the game? Over the next year, ‘out’ pretty much became our code word, and anytime we were both out partying we’d end up in bed together.

I was single and having fun, and he was mostly sweet and a great big spoon. He was like the puppy I couldn’t give up.

I’m going to caveat the story here by noting that he was the one who always pressed for something more and asked repeatedly why we couldn't date. It was me who said no and kept up the friends with benefits, which is why I was so surprised by what happened next.

The failed threesome.

It was a year after we met and my FBoy was moving back home, so a few weeks before he left we had lunch. It was actually super cute, with all the feels of a real date. And then, of course, we went back to his.

It was while we were getting hot and heavy upstairs that our wild fantasies got the better of us, and I revealed how very much I wanted someone else to join in. Wait, am I the problem? Is it me? Well, ask and he shall deliver because a week later I got a text from the still undetermined FBoy.

“Want to come round to my mate’s place for a threesome with us two?” it read.

To be honest, I was several red wines deep into day drinking by this point, and I couldn’t get home to change into black lace lingerie fast enough. I’d never done anything that wild before, and as far as sexual fantasies go it was EVERYTHING and more. With emphasis on the more.

I need to warn these women, stat. Image: BINGE.

Now I’m not sure where loyalty lies when a threesome is concerned, but my f**k buddy was the priority. My attention was on him. He and I were the ‘couple’. His friend was just the extra.

Which is why I was totally surprised that when he couldn’t keep it up anymore, he left the room, called another woman — who presumably had no idea about what had just happened — and led her into his mate’s bedroom.

All the while his friend and I sat fully clothed in the living room waiting for him to come back. When he didn’t, well let’s just say I took out some of my rage with our extra.

The f**k fest.

Five days later, my FBoy and I made up. After all, are there even rules when it comes to having a threesome? I cared about him a lot, and didn’t want to end our situationship on a sour note. So when he told me to come to an address in the city the following Thursday, I was excited.

“Do I need to bring anything... wear anything... in particular,” I asked.

“Something sexy,” he replied. “But remember we are on a time constraint too.”

I laughed, telling him that made me feel like a hooker, but knowing full well he had loads of farewells going on.

“God, you are reading into this too much,” he said, explaining we had until 4.30pm and then he was meeting some friends. Friends.

Well, the address in fact was a hotel and as expected, we had one insane afternoon. All captured on camera. My phone of course. But I trusted him, and I was glad we had one lasting memory to remember. And rewatch.

Oh how short lived that was. Cuddling in the hotel bed afterwards, I asked him what his 4.30pm plans were. And then he finally came out with it. He had another woman coming over at 5pm. It turns out that it wasn’t a week of farewells with friends. It was a f**k fest with every woman he could have. From Friday night until Thursday afternoon, he’d been with a different woman each day. Hell, MULTIPLE women on MULTIPLE days by this point.

I was disgusted to the pit of my stomach and felt violently sick. I was also desperate to let the next woman know and ruin his night. Should I leave a lipstick message on the mirror? Would she smell my perfume on our dirty bed sheets? But I didn't, and I never spoke to the literal FBoy again. Unfollowed. Removed. Deleted. Until last December.

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"Do you still have those videos?"

It had been two years since that afternoon in the hotel room when he messaged me.

“This is going to be random as,” he wrote. “But do you still have those videos of you and I? Can you send them to me if you do?"

You’ve got to be f**king kidding me.

I let my anger fly, BIG TIME. To be fair, he did apologise for hurting me. He said he was "trying to rewrite wrongs". That's after telling me he was only half joking, because he did in fact still want to watch the clips.

So, who knows. Was he clearing his conscious, a bad boy gone good? Or, was he just clearing the skeletons out of his closet before appearing on a reality dating show? Either way, be warned, FBoy Island babes. You’ve got no idea who you’re dealing with.

Image: BINGE + Mamamia.