It was a typical Sunday afternoon. I had just finished a half-marathon and was volunteering my time reading to a group of deaf orphans at a local soup kitchen. Okay, I was Scruffing.
Scrolling through the bears I was surprised to see a familiar face from my past.
I learned Zane was gay about a year ago when we reconnected on Facebook. But let's face it, it was obvious in high school and it didn't exactly come as a shock. I'll be damned, I thought. Zane's on Scruff. Nice Speedo.
I realized the fact my name and face don't show in my profile gave me an opportunity to have a little fun with my old friend. I woofed him.
When I didn't get an immediate response I decided to play things cool. The next day, I woofed him again. Nothing. Every day this week I woofed Zane. According to my "Viewers" list, not so much as a curious peek. I figured I'd keep woofing the bitch 'til he either acknowledged me or blocked me.
I was working kind of late for a Friday. Around six I saw I had a Scruff message. It was Zane.
"How goes it? Love the pic! Zane here."
Hee hee! Welcome to my web little fly.
"About time! I've been woofing you all week."
"Sorry, saw the woofs pop up but didn't see them when I went in until today."
"How ya doing Zane? :)"
I was trying to think of a cryptic high school reference when I got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. A feeling which was to turn eerily prescient. I started typing furiously...
"Don't send any..."
The pics came. And they came. And they didn't stop. Alone. With someone. With groups. I'm not sure, but I think I saw an actual bear. Then the pics of Zane cumming came. I slammed the cover of my iPad closed in case some innocent victim, also working late, happened past my cube and caught the nasty, perverted stream of ceaseless filth. I actually held the cover down, as if the smut could force its way out.
I'd never seen or even thought about Zane naked before. And now I can't get the image of his hairy behind under various angles of assault out of my head.
Now what do you do? Think Pac, think! You got yourself into this, how are you going to get out? You've always excelled under pressure, right? THINK DAMMIT!
I opened the cover of my iPad, typed "Wow dude, so hot!", closed my iPad and decided it was time for happy hour.