Turkey Boy Duman

Washed denim, grey, pleated cardigan, and a cabby’s cap in disco white; the outfit is definitely a mix of youth and middle age, of comfort and trend. The hero seems a bit unsure about grabbing his own ass, although he does just that, neat square hands, clenched at the knuckles to show how he’d pull things apart.

He has my attention.

Even the fact that his expression reminds me of the old Pardon me have you any Grey Poupon, ads, so civilized, and slightly askance, and a little distant, doesn’t turn me off.

Someone like that, inviting me to look at, maybe even get inside his ass. Hell, yeah, I’m interested. His funky, but ultra comfortable attire has me all hot and bothered too, because its so at odds with those tightly clenched hands, waiting to urge apart those totally clothed, totally discreet ass cheeks, that are being so quietly, even stealthily, all right, lewdly, invaded, as if from another hemisphere—and yet by the man’s own hands.

I like the raunchy gent thing. I’m there. And you can be there too… chck out Duman’s pictures inside Istanboys.com.

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