I have an inner disco daddy. His name is Yum Yum.
Yum Yum gets down in the club with grooves so funky that people get high just from breathing near him.
Who’s the cool cat that all the young gay boys want to get penetrated by?
Behold Yum Yum, striding long, his plush fur coat slung over his shoulders like a cape. His knee-high golden platform boots stomp, stomp, stomp their way out the front of that coat, driving Yum Yum into the club like the majestic steed of a Knight of the Round Table. Musky.
The coat drops into the arms of the coat check girl. Let your eyes feast upon Yum Yum’s velvet hot pants, skin tight, with a bulge as lovely as it is pungent. Yum Yum has no shirt. Yum Yum needs no shirt. Yum Yum’s thick, manly chest mane is shirt enough. Golden pendants rustle through that torso fur, like sexy jungle cats in their favorite haunt.
Yum Yum is in the house! The party has now begun.