Let's get ready to rumbleeeee!!!

My mom has always told me, “When you put the word ‘too’ in front of something, it generally becomes bad.” Words to live by, really. But like the brazen anarchist I am, I found a loophole, a counterargument to my mom’s adage. If you change the homonym and put “two” in front of something, it suddenly becomes that much better. What I’m talking about is that one girl is very gratifying and often enough but as soon as you add two into the equation, all of a sudden you’ve reached a momentary lapse in the universe and you get to experience Utopia for that moment in time.  It’s the ménage a trois, the three-way dance, or the MFF. Simply defined, it’s “Every man’s dream.” This rite of passage is known as, “The Championship Belt.” And yes, it’s as marvelous as it sounds.

For you sexual bellwethers, The Belt might just be another day of the week. Or you might be a pornstar and have the fucking luck draw of getting paid to bone two girls. However, the belt is the common folks’ unicorn experience that presents itself rarely. In the past few months, there are a few of us that have had close encounters with the belt but due to a few missteps and mishaps, we were just left wondering, “shoulda, coulda, woulda.” 

One of our buddies had two encounters within a month’s span. I don’t care who you are or where you’re from but that’s the sexual equivalent of Haley’s comet. On top of that, his experiences were also with high caliber women. But alas, both times he ended up being left with the belt’s mirage like a parched excursionist stranded in the desert. All the blue ball symptoms of troilism were there: inebriated half-naked and willing women, thick sexual tension in the air, two vaginas, four boobs, and a penis. From my buddy’s own words, he really thought this was the moment. He saw the mental delusions of attaining the championship belt with his hands victoriously raised and all our friends at his envy. But the experience was simply noble in thought, weak in action.

His second experience that month came with two long-legged locals who found him irresistible. One night, they individually called him out to party. When he politely declined both, the girls decided they’d party amongst themselves. However, after a few drinks, they called him in a drunken stupor to see where he was. They all finally met up but after only a few minutes of partying with them, my buddy decided he was tired and hopped into the taxi to head home. He had the taxi driver pull aside the girls to wish them a good night but they had other plans in mind. They hopped into the taxi with him so they could continue the festivities at his house. My buddy, being the hospitable gentleman that he is, took them up on their offer. So they get to his house, smoke a little something, and the girls seem to be getting comfortably ready for sleep. The girls then proceed to tell my buddy that he was to sleep in between them. [Let that sink in for a second. I’m sure you, the reader, is anticipating where this is going] What ends up happening is him being kept awake by his unfilled excitement with two girls on each side rubbing up on his thighs. 

The next story finds one of the 8000 Miles Later guys at home on a weeknight, trying to find answers on his phone to the question, “What the fuck is there to do tonight?” A text shoots on the screen and it’s a girl he’s been banging for the past few weeks. She wants to come over. Twenty minutes later, he and his girl are sitting on his bed and she’s telling him a story of one of her good friends whose boyfriend is out of town and she’s in need of some infidelity (hey, you can’t hate the girl’s blatant candor). But here’s the kicker: my buddy is getting ready to text one of his friends to take this girl on her offer but then his girl tells him that she wants the girl to come over to hang with “only them.” Sweat forms on his brow, his stomach feels like it’s at his throat, and he can’t help his hands from getting clammy; she must want a sexual adventure, he thought. As precaution, he decided he’d play it cool just case in was a shit-test from his girl. He simply replied that he’s down for whatever and to invite her over. On that night, it didn’t happen. There was a girl who WAS down for infidelity but something didn’t click and Mr. 8000 Miles Later’s girl probably got a bit apprehensive. My guess is there was a miscorrelation between his excitement and speech.  

The following story is a bit of a doozy. There will be a lot of head shaking, anger, and just overall contempt for the hero of this tale. So, another 8000 Miler had two girls who he had slain individually and conveniently, they met at the Catwalk party and has since become friends. However, they both still hold a special place in their hearts for him, even to the point of having coffee dates with the three of them together. To this day, these girls are like inseparable sisters and have become quite the man-eating combo in Saigon. As with any good sex story, alcohol enters the picture and everything changes. After a random late night of partying, the girls calls our hero and tell him that they are drunk and are hanging out in one of the girl's room on the bed. Keep in mind, they both know he's still boning them.  A normal man would be at their house before the phone hangs up. A normal man would've fainted. A normal man would've choked the chicken in the bathroom. Not this man. He politely declined. He was already in bed and nothing was going to stop him from his sweet slumber, not even the 99% chance to tangle with the belt. Fuck, I can't write anymore. I'm too upset.

What are the lessons to be learned from these stories?

1) If you’re too anxious in anticipating the belt, and feel it’s within grasp, that’s when you’ll lose it.

2) Don’t plan the belt. Play it cool and the opportunity will reveal itself. “When the student is ready the master appears.” (The master in this case are actually two chicks offering you a vajayjay cocktail)

3) Sometimes, denying the belt will actually help in getting it. It’s reverse psychology. 
4) Catch up on your sleep. 

So kids, stay prepped. Keep working out, doing kegel exercises, hip thrusts, whatever. The opportunity for the belt, albeit rare, might present itself on any day. It’s imperative that you’re able to handle yourself in a manner that’ll ensure its acquisition. You just don’t want to get to the big dance and realize you’re the guy without the pants. In this case, being without the pants is being sexually incompetent. If that’s you, remember these words: you call yourself a man? I weep for you. 

David Lam