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I don’t know how good I’ll be doing with my new theme for Tuesday’s Nude Dudes post. I don’t do twinks well. And I can’t really get behind the scrawny, street urchin look that plays so well in Pattaya. But if you go with thinner, less well-defined, and not yet in their mid-twenties as a definition, maybe this will work out. On the plus side Google says ‘twink’ equates to totally naked, so maybe it won’t matter.
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“A” for effort!
Cool. Maybe next week I can make it 2 for 2.
Oh Yeah!
I love twinks…
And again I’m in the minority.
🙂
Ours is a broad church. The thing about twinks is that they pose as if they’ve made it. They can’t do seduction (they haven’t that sophistication yet); they can’t do sultry without looking sulky; they haven’t enough experience for the follow-me-home-and-fuck-me come-on look; and they can’t replicate the ‘knowing look’ without seeming hyper-slutty. What sex appeal a twink has is based on an unaffected innocence and a developing physical definition, a promise of their future and a memory of our past. I can still envisage the slanting afternoon sun providing silhouettes of chests and nipples through the gauzy white school shirts of the older boys on the bus on those long, hot summer days in Sydney. (I also used to sit over the rear wheel arch for the ride home, which still gives me trouble on occasion.) Ah, the residue of rising sap.
A beautifully rendered thought on the attraction to twinks, which I’ve never understood. But then I was a precocious child, busy turning those fantasies of schoolmates on the bus into reality. What can I say? I was an early bloomer. Who bloomed often.
Aw, petal. You must have been a lillia inter spina, a lily amongst thorns.
Well, I was quite a thorny lad at that age.
🙂
twinks… twinks… twinks…
Well that’ll add up to one muscle stud, so . . .