May 13, 2016

A Hookup with a Hobbit

Plains, May 2015

Last night I was on Grindr, trying to coax a skittish Cute Young Thing with blond hair and an enormous Mortadella into coming over.  He asked question after question:

"How big is it?"
"What do you want to do?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Are you hot?"
"How long will it take?"
"Do we have to have chit-chat first?"
"How old are you?"
"How big is it?"
"What do you want to do?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Do you do this often?"
"What are you into?
"Will anyone else be there?"
"Do you like younger guys?"
"What do you want to do?"
"How big is it?"

I was getting more and more frustrated.  Hookups are supposed to be a form of recreation, not arduous chores!  But I had put so much time into this guy, I hated to just tell him to forget it.

Then I got buzzed by one of those guys with a blank profile, no name, age, height, weight, or description of interests, just a face and chest.  A bear cub: in his 30s, bearded, chubby, hairy.

"I don't have much time, I'm just passing through town, but I'd like to stop by."

I don't invite guys over without getting some background information, including a phone number for insurance, but I was frustrated, and besides, I haven't seen a hairy chest for awhile -- all I seem to meet  nowadays are smooth twinks -- so I said "Fine."  I gave him the address and the access code for the apartment building, so I could buzz him in.

Less than five minutes later, he was knocking on my door.  How did he get here so fast? How did he get into the building without being buzzed in?

He looked like a hobbit from The Lord of the Rings: about 5'3", with dark curly hair, and a short beard.

He was evasive during the pre-bedroom chitchat.

The rest of the story is too explicit for Boomer Beefcake and Bonding.  You can read it on Tales of West Hollywood.

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