As you may or may not know, I have a thing for hipster otter types. Specifically, bearded, hipster, otters with furry legs and chests and chunky-framed glasses and tattoos, etc. and usually they’re about 28-35 years old.
I know, I know. That makes me a perv. But I can’t help it. I’m just drawn to that look.
In the gay chorus, there are usually one or two boys that meet this description. When they join, I see them and develop small crushes on them. And then spend half the year avoiding them So I don’t seem too pervy. And then the crush fades as they inevitably have a boyfriend or get someone age-appropriate.
C’est la vie.
That being said, there’s a new tenor that joined, and I find him ever so dreamy. He is bearded. He has chunky glasses. He has ink. He’s an otter. He’s 29. And his eyes are so blue……
But I figured him to have a partner. (He’s too pretty not to). Or at the very least not be interested in old farts like me. So I’ve been drooling from afar.
Well, so he was at beer bust at the Eagle last night. And we started chatting. And drinking and chatting. And having fun.
Which eventually led to him propositioning me. “So, you maybe wanna get out of here and go make out and fool around and stuff?”
Yes. Yes I do. Did. Whatever. Anyway.
So I rode my semi-drunk ass home in my bike as fast as possible, and he Lyfted over.
Since this never ever happens, I was kind of at a loss. And nervous as fuck. See, I don’t know what to do with the pretty ones. It’s honestly nerve wracking.
Evidently his type are older, salt-n-pepper “daddies” that are bigger than him. And he seemed to enjoy himself. And he wants a rematch.
For him I can be a daddy.
Woohoo, go Daddy!
Hmmm, sounds like a perfect match!
Coo, coo, ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson
rob that cradle!