LARGETONY Blog

You’ve heard about the back room, but never had the nerve to go in there.  You always stuck to the relative safety of the dance floor.  The most adventurous you have ever been was to hold your own pecker in the men’s room to take a piss.

Until tonight.

The heavy beat of the dance music fades with each step you take to toward your destiny.  Your heart beat takes over where the drum beat leaves off.  Your breathing shallows and your nostrils flair as you step inside as catch a whiff of the unfamiliar stench of sweat and acrylic.

Your eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and you realize that what you thought was wall-to-wall shag carpeting that you were feeling your way through is actually wall-to-wall shagging.

Is that Daffy Duck slobbering all over Underdog’s bone?  Is that Mickey?  And is he fucking Goofy doggie style?  And is the Easter Bunny really on all fours getting donkey-punched by…well, a donkey?

Recently I heard about a subculture known as Furries.  Apparently they are people who are into fantasy and comics where animals have human characteristics.  You know: Bugs Bunny, Pink Panther, etc.  And evidently the there’s a subculture among the subculture (a sub-sub culture, if you will) that involves sexual fetishes.  Like Foghorn Leghorn putting it to Yogi Bear. (Yogi probably likes a bit of chicken in his “pic-a-nic basket.”)

Now, I don’t begrudge anybody their fetishes.  As long as everyone agrees, it’s healthy, nobody is hurt (physically or emotionally), and no kids are involved, then I say DO IT!  Like voting.  Early and often!

But I do find this particular fetish fascinating.  Not fascinating in a want to take part way, but fascinating in a what’s so sexy about somebody in a sweaty, fur-matted, dirt-pawed animal costume with a big giant head that makes someone want to put on an equally sweaty, fur-matted, dirty-pawed, big-headed costume in order to get a piece of tail (literally, as it turns out.)

But I’m sure many of the Furries don’t get my thing for backing up a guys sewer line for a few hours. (I wonder if that counts as vandalism.)

I have a feeling that there isn’t much of a gay sub-sub culture among the Furries.  Mostly because those mascot costumes have pretty shapeless bodies, and gay men are not about the shapeless body.  They may enjoy a fuzzy sack now and then, but not the kind that covers up the non-cruising hours spent in the gym.

Gay Furries would rock just the head.  Is it really that hard to imagine Snagglepuss in a baby T and low rise Diesel jeans?  Or Curious George laid out in a sling while Wile E. Coyote tests his limits with a collection of toys? (That’s while he’s called Curious George).  Hell, Mickey Mouse already wears hot pants and yellow shoes.

The Furry community is probably the perfect place for people who enjoy anonymous sex.  If you think about it, with that big giant head on, you really are just a walking glory hole.  The ultimate in no-strings blow-and-go sex. No tapping of feet.  Just tap that cock.  I wouldn’t be surprised if a high-profile politician or two turned out to be a Furry.

Actually, like any other fetish, I really shouldn’t be all that surprised by anyone that I discover is into Furry fucking.  Because, truthfully, I think there are a lot more people out there into Tigger dick than are willing to admit.

This entry was posted on Sunday, August 10th, 2008 at 8:41 am and is filed under humor, observations. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.