So, I’ve met another young lad with a big peen. FML.
We met on Scruff and started chatting. And just so we’re clear, he was the one who contacted ME. He seemed nice, as well as horny, and he was interested in me. Which led to naughtier chatting– with pictures.
What is it with these young ones and their affinity for silver daddies?? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I mean, seriously– bring it on! But… GAAAAAH! So young and emotionally unavailable.
Anyway, I gave him my digits, figuring that he would ghost me before anything happened. So imagine my surprise when he texted last night. P.S. long story short, I may have invited him over. And he may have come.
*another side note*
I hate the term “size queen”. Mostly because I don’t want to be referred to as a queen. Ever. In any capacity. But speaking of “capacity”, I must admit that I have an penchant for C.O.U.S.’s (cocks of unusual size). So I prefer to call myself a “size king” instead…. Cuz I like ’em “king sized”. Heh.
So kiddo comes over last night around 9:30, I open the door, and without going into any salacious, untoward details…
Hoh. Lee. Fuck.
Bearded. Blonde. Blue-eyed. Light chest fur and very furry legs. Total otter. Cute as fuck.
And a goddamn tripod.
*yet another side note*
Evidently I have a thing for otters. Otters who have beards. And who are hipstery lumbersexuals. With massive units. They are my kryptonite.
Remember the last, bearded, blue-eyed twenty-something hipster that I had a crush on that tossed me aside? Yeah, well this boy is nearly as handsome… and bigger.
Like the arm of baby Jesus.
This just spells Trouble. With a capital T, which rhymes with P, and that stands for Peen.