Blue Grotto

I went to Capri. Let me preface this by saying, if Villa Malaparte had not been there I never would have gone. Josh and I decided to take a boat around the island and see everything from the sea. It sounded like a steal for 10 euro, but there area always hidden costs in Italy. Away we go speeding down the coast with four other people; two young Asian woman and a middle-aged Italian couple (possibly married). One of the places we get to see is the Blue Grotto (apparently a must see). But with all travels you reach a point somewhere along the journey where you get shafted by a tourist scam. So the large boat stops near a small hole in the rock. An armada of dinghies approach. Since our captain is an Italian male the young woman get a dingy all to themselves, typical. The Italian couple are escorted down the ladder into a second dingy. Then the captain commands me to get in, where our greasy rower folds me like a piece of luggage, awkwardly stowing me under a support board; my ass positioned between the woman's legs, pinching both her and her boyfriend's legs against the side of the boat. Josh is the last to board, positioned at crotch level with our rower in the bow of the vessel. We are rowed up to another boat where we are forced to pay 8.50 euro as an entrance fee. I can hardly reach my wallet, but am so uncomfortable, my ass now drenched with the salt water from previous trips, that I reluctantly pay. I just keep smiling and telling myself not to rock the boat, no one would be able to get out if they wanted to. As we approach the hole, the rower yells at Josh to put his head down. The rower grabs a chain attached to the wall and yanks us into the grotto. In performing this movement, he violently thrusts his ass into my face smashing it into the woman's crotch. A game of ass-crotch ping pong ensues as I try to regain consciousness. Everything goes blue...eerie. I hear Italian's singing. We are paddled around the grotto and then back to the threshold. I can anticipate what is coming, but am powerless to reposition myself to avoid it. Ding...round two. I hate being the ball. After maybe 5 minutes we return to our boat where I am told to get out. I thought it was difficult to get in, well getting out in any sort of a dignified manner is impossible. I am forced to rotate 180 degrees positioning my body such that I appear to be bedding this man's girlfriend. Then thrust my body vertically along her until I can reach a point to bend my knees thus straddling her face with my crotch. Reluctantly I can only muster a sheepish "scusa" as I perform a sexual boat dance with another man's woman. As I exit the dingy, the rower has the audacity to ask me for a tip. I have a tip for you...