Listen-up, fellas: this is one of those classic holiday tales … of a good boy … dressed-up in his finest holiday jockstrap and boots … staring, hopelessly, out the window, waiting for Santa to bring him a big package, tickle him with his scruffy beard, and feed him a sweet tasty treat … but, ho, ho, ho! … to his surprise, the boy gets jumped by a strong, hairy Wolfmann who exerts his masculine, alpha energy over the boy, establishing primal dominance, and yet tenderly laying him in a secret crèche - happy and satisfied … until he returns, again, for much, much more … I had lined-up one of my regular studs to fill a holiday hole in my calendar. But, as it happens, he got unexpected work in DC. (Seems like some officials got a bone-us, this year.) So, he called-me-up, last minute, and broke the news. I understood, of course: a man’s gotta work. But, for me, it meant a last-minute holiday scramble. I started looking through my buddy list, most of whom I with work with by appointment. It was late, and I was frustrated. Was I going to be that boy - staring out the window - disappointed and unfulfilled at Christmas? No, as it happens; not by a long shot! The angels look-down on poor me, and delivered: the Wolfmann. He arrived at the appointed time looking exactly like his pictures, if not better: big, strong, handsome, hairy and masculine. He was a very attentive and aggressive man. It was mutual — attraction and affection we had for each other. The Wolfmann is definitely a man’s man; I plan to see him again very soon. He’s total top quality, equally presentable at: mom’s house, a corporate event, or the backroom of a leather club. I highly recommend him to all the boys out there looking for strength, generosity, and fun.
