LXVI. The Guy Whom I Took To The Hotel Lobby Bathroom In Singapore

“What happened to ‘Hello’, ‘How are you?’, ‘My name is’. What happened to that?”

– Shereé Whitfield –

We’ve all been in a situation where we’re on vacation with people who are not supportive of our hoe lifestyle. It’s especially tricky when you’re sharing a room and have no safe space to properly get plowed by a random stranger. Then add an unnecessarily busy holiday agenda to the mix, and you have yourself a weeklong hell with no dick to mount. Lucky for you, I am here to teach you some tricks you can maneuver to get your regular “vitamin D” fix while still maintaining a healthy relationship with your heteronormative family. For this to work, all you need is determination, creativity, and a shit ton of prayers.

Because, let’s face it. If you’re attempting to follow these pieces of advice, you probably need some sort of divine intervention.

Step 1: The Dumber, The Better.

Let’s start with the most obvious task: finding a guy who’s down to satisfy your unholy needs. For this particular situation to work, however, it can’t be just any random guy. The key words to victory here are determination and desperation. This is not always the case, but I found greater success in executing these strategies with younger guys. Again, I’m not trying to be ageist, and these tactics are also applicable to men at any age, but younger gays are still raging with hormones that frequently cloud their judgments. I apologize in advance for the hasty generalization. 

On my recent family trip to Singapore, I found success with a 23-year-old British twunk staying in a hostel. I just came back to my hotel room after a particularly raucous night with some college friends, and alcohol was flowing through my blood veins exponentially faster than Singapore’s Wi-FI speed. It was five past midnight, and the alcohol quickly clouded my judgment, shifting the responsibility of my decision-making process from my brain to my dick. The next thing I knew, I was on Grindr, mindlessly scrolling through a sea of headless torso pics. 

Through these desperate minutes, this 23-year-old twunk shamelessly tempted me to commit a lustful sin. But in all honesty, his physical features were nothing to write Shakespearean sonnets about. Sure, he’s tall, and his face is decent-looking enough to grab my attention. But let’s just say he’s not a guy worth risking my entire family’s inheritance on.

But I was horny, so y’all know what this will lead to.

There’s no point of being surprised here, to be honest.

Step 2: Hygiene Doesn’t Really Matter When You’re Desperate.

Similar to a compelling story, a scandalous hookup requires a meticulous planning of the who’s, where’s, and how’s. Sometimes, you can get lucky with meeting a guy who owns a fucking penthouse suite at a Four Seasons hotel who can host. And when you meet that illustrious rich bastard, you better lock that multi-billionaire down and get him to put a ring on that nasty finger of yours. However, that’s not the case for us peasants all the times. So when you’re a cheap horndog like me, creativity is at the upmost importance.

As much as I’m a cheap slut who would occasionally risk anything for a dick, I was rational enough to not let a family member of mine woke up to the sight of me getting dicked down by a random stranger in our shared hotel room. Unfortunately, the horny British twunk shared the similar unfortunate fate of being a cheapass who shared a hostel room with random strangers, and his European backpackers roommates probably did not appreciate my praise-worthy moans. We were two star-crossed lovers doomed by a tragic fate, and the potential of a sweaty hookup almost came to an inconclusive ending. But my sexual urges whispered to my right ear, “Not today, you dumb ho. We’re gonna make this shit happen.”

So I texted him:

“Wanna do it in my hotel lobby’s bathroom? It’s a 4-star hotel, so it shouldn’t have been that bad lol.”

I know some of you are concerned. Eww… that’s not a hygienic place to have sex in; think about the gazillion E.coli bacteria swarming around the edge of one toilet seat alone! But here’s the thing: I’m planning to have sex with a random stranger. God knows where he had been or whose other mouths that dick had been inside of. My point is that putting a random dick in my mouth itself had already been inherently unsanitary, so E.coli should have been the least of my concern. Besides, what were my other options? Not to have a hookup with this guy? I would have disappointed the architects and interior designers of that hotel lobby bathroom, not fully appreciating the craftsmanship and artistry of their creation.

The two things I need in life the most are Jesus and a proper health insurance.

I apologize in advance for the plethora of E.coli references

Step 3: The DIY Douche.

Now, I know you might be asking, “bitch, if you don’t care about hygiene at all, why do you even need to douche your ass?” For a bottom, douching is about upholding your reputation and maintaining a brand, and you don’t want to be labeled as a messy queen who dumps full-on diarrhea on someone’s dick. Besides, gays love to gossip, so you better watch what comes out of their mouths and your asshole. And sometimes, you don’t have the luxury of indulging in a high-fiber diet during a vacation, especially when you can’t resist the temptation of a mouth-watering laksa or char kway teow. Even worse, you might not have the help of Daddy Bezos to deliver an anal douche straight to your hotel room using same-day shipping.

Let’s, hypothetically, say that I wasn’t a bottom who’s naturally gifted with an eternally clean colon, and bringing an anal douche on a family vacation made me feel tacky. So what can a thirsty thrifty man like me do to relish the pleasure of a random dick up his ass without the premise of taking his top to diarrhea land? 

Enters the solution: a plastic water bottle. 

Yes, the entire ass-cleaning process might differ from using a regular anal douche in terms of its complexity level to get water into your ass, but sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do. The ritual itself is relatively similar to one using an anal douche: fill the water with room-temperature water (don’t make the mistake of loading your ass with scorching hot water), wait for a minute while you contemplate all the life decisions that lead you into this exact moment, release the water, and repeat until the water coming out is crystal clear. The only thing you must remember is that bringing a water bottle to the bathroom can be relatively sus, and explaining the continuous flushing sound to the family member you’re sharing a room with can be pretty challenging. My go-to excuse was to blame everything on my excessive intake of iced Kopi-c. 

I guess you can say that I’m maximizing the utilization rate of those single-use plastic bottles. Greta Thunberg would’ve been so proud of me. 

How I imagined the water bottle’s reaction when it was used to clean my ass against its will

Step 4: Two Pairs of Eyes Make For A Great Hookup, But Three Pairs of Eyes Will Get You to Jail.

A successful business, similar to a hotel lobby bathroom hookup, could have undergone countless strategy plans and revisions, but they mean nothing without flawless execution. And as much as the thrill of getting caught makes public sex so enticing for some people, actually being caught doing one is not within the realm of my fantasy. AND as much as I might occasionally fantasize about being a cum dump in prison, I surprisingly have many things planned for my future. Having a modelesque mugshot of this frail-looking face is certainly not one of them.

The first part of my sneaky operation was a massive success. I managed to leave my hotel room without a barrage of unnecessary questions from my family. But then, I had to face the most challenging part of the “getting-the-D” mission: doing the deed without getting caught by a single hotel employee. I told the British twunk to meet me at the hotel lobby, but I gave him no further instructions; basically, we were two horny gays focused on obtaining short-term pleasure. In my defense, it was hard to devise an elaborate plan when alcohol was involved.

The British twunk arrived at the hotel lobby, and he looked exactly how I imagined him to be, wearing a pair of black Vans sneakers with a gray nylon body bag dangling in front of his chest. We breezed through the mandatory “Hey, how are you” phase because we knew we were both on a tight mission. I had a pre-conceived strategy coming to this meeting on how I wanted to execute this highly secretive mission, but all of a sudden, he cut me off in the middle of my unnecessarily long explanation of my hotel amenities and said:

“So I’ll go to the bathroom first. And you can follow me in five minutes after I text you which stall I’ll be in?”

Great. This is not his first time at the rodeo.

See, this is what I love about horny gays. We think on the same wavelength. No explanation was needed; we both had been in this exact situation before and knew what to do, no questions asked. Imagine if we channeled this energy into making impactful changes in the world; the gays would have ruled the world.

We set the plan into motion, and he made his way to the most secluded bathroom stall at the end of the hotel lobby bathroom. “Great,” I thought, “at least he has some sort of common sense.” He texted me his whereabouts, and I casually made my way past an older Chinese hotel staff who, from the judgmental look he made in my direction, had an idea of what was about to transpire. I felt slightly awful for the possibility of things he had to clean after our sexual debauchery, but at that moment, my focus lay solely on getting laid.

When I entered the designated stall, the British twunk was standing behind the door with his dick out. I wasted no time getting down to the business, and the next thing I knew, our lips were messily smooshed together. The horny British lad came prepared as he pulled out a travel-size lube and a condom from his body bag. The actual deed itself didn’t last for very long (maybe he’s really horny? Or perhaps he just has excellent time management skills), and I appreciated the quickness of it all. He pulled his pants back up, kissed me goodbye, and walked out of the stall as if he just took a quick dump. And I would’ve usually felt horrible being treated like a sleazy prostitute, but at that moment, I was grateful for his efficiency. I returned to the hotel lobby, and he was nowhere to be found. We went our separate ways and moved forward with our own lives, with no second thoughts on the used condom he flushed down the toilet merely five minutes ago.

I wish there was a grand, life-changing lesson I could have implored you to dissect from this story, but clearly, there was none. If anything, I hope this story serves as a precaution against things you SHOULD NOT do during a family vacation. But if there’s one thing you can learn from my story: when there’s a will, there’s a way, and it’s your job to be creative with your imagination to make your dream a reality.

All those time in Sunday school clearly were for nothing

And yes, I did take a shameful shower after I had done the dirty deed. I’m not a filthy animal, and I hope I made that very clear in this story.

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