Oct 15, 2015
The Satyr and his Boy Toy
All of them told me, "You have to meet the Satyr!" But they all had different stories.
The Rich Kid: he's a muscle bear who used to work in porn movies.
The Truck Driver: he's cultured, artistic, and very romantic.
The Rapper: he's a Sugar Daddy with a fetish for black men.
The Grabby Male Nurse: he's a sexual dynamo, able to keep going all night (thus his nickname).
Date #5. The Satyr
He didn't send any photos or give any stats, so I didn't know what to expect when I drove to old Victorian on the west side of Oneonta. But I certainly didn't expect Chad, the waiter from the Neptune, to answer the door.
"Hey, Chad! I didn't know the Satyr had a roommate."
He ushered me into a room cluttered with heavy leather furniture, old black-and-white photographs, bookshelves, a coffee table made out of an old crate.
I was left alone for about ten minutes to leaf through coffee table books on Asian art and try to make friends with a skittish cat, until the Satyr finally came down the stairs.
A tall, husky, bearded bear, around 60 years old. Broad shoulders, round belly. And, when he gave me a hug, I felt that he had a baseball bat down there, all revved up and ready to go.
"Don't take it personally," the Satyr said with a chuckle. "I'm always like that when I meet a new guy."
The rest of the story, with uncensored photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood.