Do men watch too much porn and mistakenly think it is slutty?

Men, guess this riddle: When did you become so perverted and shameless on dates? seriously.

I discovered this last Thursday night after a stupid meeting with an ex – he had been a red flag. (OMG, I have terrible taste!)

We had tried to turn things around in the past, but he had just gone through a divorce and was in a sad, angry, painful stage. Anyone who has dated a man after marriage knows this stage all too well: As they unpack the trauma of their ex daring to leave them, we suddenly become their sounding board, therapist, and punching bag.

One weekend, after a few hours of “Why do you think she left me?” Chatting, I’ve had enough. What was supposed to be a romantic getaway turned into a therapy marathon. Instead of a naked romp, we dissect his marriage.

By the end, I felt like I knew his ex better than some of her friends.

Spoiler alert: I don’t want to.

Fast forward to last week. He texted out of the blue to say he was in town on business and staying in a penthouse in a luxury hotel.

Now, in the spirit of admitting mistakes, I admit that this mistake was my fault. I had a few martinis with my friend and thought, “Fun in the penthouse? Yes, please!”

So I hailed a taxi and walked over.

We met for a drink and then went upstairs to “name” his luxury accommodation. So far, so good.

But then came the twist: As I lay on his chest, enjoying a nice post-coital chat, he got a call from another woman.

“I’m free now, if you’d like to keep me company,” she announced cheerfully.

And just like that, he invited her over—without giving me any advance notice or her consent, just sheer audacity.

“What on earth?” I said. (Okay, it’s more colorful than that.)

He smiled and replied, “What? I thought the three of us could have fun!”

Another spoiler alert: I’m not on board. I also suspect she is.

To be fair, if this was something we’d done before, maybe I’d understand. But we didn’t.

Our past is full of very mundane, missionary-based encounters. snore.

So, I did what any self-respecting woman would do: I jumped out of bed, swore a bunch of curse words, and stormed out.

Two days later, he called. Still angry, I hung up the phone and sent a text: “No.”

His reply? “Can we talk? I think there’s a misunderstanding.”

No misunderstanding, man.

You think you can sneak into a threesome, but shock, horror, and I rip my clothes off without warning. What pissed me off the most was that he didn’t reveal his bold plan until after we were done with it.

So, I decided it was time to draw some boundaries. My parting shot? “You have this incredible way of making me feel worthless every time I interact with you – and it’s not my job to make you feel better. Jog on, dk.”

He replied: “You can curse me on the phone if you want, but I just want to chat.”

Reader, I blocked and deleted him. fed up.

The next night, over dinner with my girlfriends, I told them about my attempt at a surprise threesome. To my shock, they had similar stories.

Apparently this “trend” is more common than I thought.

One friend recalled dating a man who invited her to spend the weekend at his farm. She got there to find his best friend, but she thought, “Oh, well, the more the merrier.”

After dinner, her buddy suggested a hot bath. Well, she thought – until his best friend started rubbing her feet and her man started massaging her legs. It was then that she suddenly realized: they had planned this all along.

She made an excuse and left the next morning.

Another friend told me that there was a problem with a nightclub hookup. Arriving at Middle Pash, the guy nonchalantly suggested they leave—why not take her best friend with her for a “sleepover”? grace.

It got me thinking: Do men watch too much porn and mistake its scenes for real life?

Let’s be honest, porn has a way of presenting something like a surprise threesome that’s effortless, spontaneous, and obviously the default setting for a fun night out. But here’s the thing: real life isn’t a browser tab with tabs “Hot MILFs surprise babysitter.”

In real life, a threesome isn’t a casual “why not?” moment. It’s a conversation—a proper discussion in which everyone agrees, sets boundaries, and participates equally.

This was planned, not an ambush.

Porn might feel like the pizza guy shows up, everyone instantly goes down, and then boom – it starts. But newsflash, gentlemen: The rest of us didn’t get the memo.

For most women, taking the leap from cuddling to a threesome without even a warning isn’t sexy—it’s awkward, self-righteous, and borderline insulting.

Will I have a threesome at some point in my life? perhaps.

But that’s not the case for a man who effortlessly assumes I’m a prop in his fantasies.

So, here are some tips: When it comes to a threesome, or any sexual activity, planning is sexy. Clear communication is sexy. Respect is sexy.

A sudden ambush? Not so much.