XLIII. The Guys Whose Boat Capsized

“I don’t know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all of this”

– Jack Dawson, Titanic

Happy No Nut November people! There are times in a gay man’s life when his dick appointments get cancelled, and the way he reacts to the universe blowing up his perfectly designed plans is a true testament to his thirstiness perseverance. Flaky guys are truly inevitable and although there are plenty of ways to mitigate the risk of being stood up, shit happens. Here are some tips to help you navigate the crazy world of modern dating and minimize the risk of you getting your heart broken by XLDaddyTop69:
– Don’t put all your eggs in one basket and always have a backup plan. Your hookup bail on you because his cat is having a stroke? Not a big deal when you have MascOnlyCumSlut and BussyDestroyer45 on your fingertips!
– Prepare a Spotify playlist in advance for you to cry your heart out should things go south. My recommendations include songs by Céline Dion, Robyn, and the criminally overplayed artist Ed Sheeran.
Buy a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and write about how your threesome plan got cancelled because of a capsized boat.

I made an agreement to meet a Grindr guy one Friday night, and he informed me about his friend who was willing to join the adventure of a lifetime, also known as the exploration of my anal canal. At that point in my life, threesomes weren’t completely out of my brand as I had my fair share of ménage à trois with two men in a pre-established relationship (yes, all the misfortunes I had to endure in this story happened quite recently, and yes, I’m going against my words by not writing in chronological order, again. Sue me!) My muses for this chapter were European guys with above-average looks and luscious hair, and their semi-frontal nude pic solidified their chances of scoring an appointment with my buns. My potential clients were only in town for a week and because I was an exemplary citizen who cared deeply about boosting our tourism economy, I intended to be a good representation of my town’s world-famous hospitality service and showed them one of our town’s best ASSets. They also didn’t shy away from confessing their appreciation for my blog and their desire in becoming one of my subjects. So guess what, boys? Welcome to your chapter!

Please don’t sue me for defamation in 5 years

We made plans to meet after their day trip to a neighboring island, which was totally fine with me since I, contrary to popular belief, had a busy schedule at work during the day. It also gave me some time to physically and mentally prepare myself for the possibility of some hardcore fudge packing. Let’s fast forward to our scheduled Friday evening date since anal douching is not something I want to write an entire paragraph about. I was at dinner with my high school friends and while my friends were busy munching on some sushi rolls, I was busy checking my phone, patiently waiting for my official threesome invitation (hashtag desperate). One hour, two beers, and three frantic follow-up texts later, I still had not heard from my fellow threesome aficionados. I mean… I was pretty used to having guys cancelling on me last minute, but I didn’t know why I was expecting something different from these boys. I guess it was a combination of my desperation for some human touches and my overly optimistic view on men’s dating behavior that devastated me from their sudden cancellation.

So I ordered another beer, downed it like a champ to alleviate the pain of my unquenchable thirst, and drove back home with nothing to fill the voids in my heart and other parts of my body.

P.S. Please don’t drink and drive. It’s not cute.

Upon my arrival at home, I halfheartedly poured myself a glass of red wine while getting myself comfortable for my beauty sleep. I took one last glance over my phone before I let myself drift off to sleep, and that’s when my fellow group sex enthusiasts finally replied to my slightly aggressive threesome reminders. Here’s the thing: you don’t owe strangers from dating apps anything and you don’t have to show up to a date if you have a sudden change of heart (it does make you look like an asshole, but hey, don’t let this bitter bitch stop you from doing yo thang). But the fact that these boys didn’t block my number and replied to my frantic texts was quite respectable, so I didn’t immediately dismiss their excuses and gave them the opportunity to lay out their case. They replied, and I quote:

“On our way back from the day trip, our small boat was overloaded and started scooping water. The next thing we knew, the boat flipped upside down and all of us were in the water“.

What. The. Fuck.

I was flabbergasted. It’s one thing to be stood up by a douchebag who decides to ghost you at the last minute; at least you can blame an actual human being for his shitty behavior. But this? This was some next level shit, y’all. I felt like one of those virtual beings in The Sims and my controller decided to give up on completing my WooHoo quest. It’s like the Man Above was watching me trying to out-hoe myself and be like, “na ah bitch, better luck next time!” On the bright side, I can finally tell people that I have been officially cockblocked by a fucking boat; how many people in this world can say that?! Let’s just say this chapter is the very definition of the phrase divine intervention.

We actually met the next day for light dinner and cocktails, and they were some of the nicest and funniest people I have ever met. They shared their story about the capsized boat in more details and all I could think of while I was listening to their mishap was the threesome offer that was taken off the table by unforeseen circumstances. You might be asking me, “why didn’t you have your threesome that night you met them?” First of all, despite all the indecent thoughts I have running through my mind 24/7, I’m a respectable human being who appreciates high-quality social interactions. Secondly, I’m not a predator who enjoys preying on the injured.

Did I forget to mention that they got into some light motorbike accidents prior to the boat shenanigan?

As I was sipping on my piña colada, they were reluctantly telling me the aftermath of the aforementioned motorbike accidents, proceeded by them showing the bandages on their legs. So yeah… even if they were mentally ready for some penis-on-butt actions, they couldn’t physically execute a series of movements required for an enjoyable threesome. I could probably be more aggressive and offer them a one-man show where I did all the work, but where’s the fun in that? Hashtag lazy bottom!

I’m just a hole, sir!

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling slightly melancholic about the sinking boat. The three of us had a chemistry and they seemed to know how to get wet and wild between the sheets. But what could I have done? I couldn’t possibly file a lawsuit against the mother nature. In retrospect, our relationship might have benefitted from the fact that we didn’t have sex since there was no expectation during our tea-spilling sesh. Besides, I have no intention to turn this blog into a collection of threesome stories; don’t you all miss these kind of stories where I basically embarrass myself?! On a lighter note, this encounter gave me a fascinating story that came with a somewhat clickbaity title to tell you all without losing my credibility as a classy sex addict (I put the ass in class y’all!).

To the boys in this story, you know who you are and you better hit me up again when you are in town because we have some unfinished businesses.

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