BLUE PILL MEN – Old Men Show teen Jennifer aka Crystal Rae A Good Tim

Title: A Grand Affair – Old Men and A Good Tim

In the quaint, old neighborhood known for its “hanging baskets” and lively bunch, there lived a group of sprightly, mature gentlemen – the Blue Pill Men. Unbeknownst to their neighbors, the seven septuagenarians had a secret society apartment, a haven for their “misfit hobby.”

The Blue Pill Men, as they called themselves, were old men with a penchant for the racy. They held regular, clandestine auctions where they bid on “goodies” – nubile young lovelies, willing to explore the joys of intergenerational bliss, albeit regrettably for the gentlemen’s pocketbook.

That fateful Friday, the septuagenarians were at it again. Their latest “prize” was a lithe, tanned, 18-year-old pouting petite pussycat, Jennifer “Crystal Rae” A Good Tim, new to the city and eager to test her monetization chops.

Crystal’s lithe body, with just the right curves – an hourglass figure (before the “Great Global Lockdown”), tousled chestnut tresses, doe eyes, plump lips, and heart-shaped face, was the exact opposite of the seven portly, grey-haired, saggy-balled gentleman junket. Their hormones went ablaze.

“You lookin’ for some action, little lady?” Grandpa Joe, the group’s elder and acting auctioneer, drawled, ogling her with “millennial lust,” as they called it. “We got plenty o’ meat ’round here!”

Crystal’s eyes lit up, not realizing she was staring at seven overcooked ham hocks, wilted salads, and prosthetically pumped obscenities. “I was hoping you’d ask! Lead the way!” she chirped, oblivious to the impending trials.

The Blue Pill Men huddled like vultures, drooling and tearing at each other’s bits, an impatient frenzy of want. “Can we get started?!” Gramps swapped spit, his dentures bobbing. “I can barely stand it in these shorts!” Trish, his distinguished bladder sheath, cried for a quick fix.

Finally, Jennifer Gentle was introduced to her fateful ‘hosts.’ The old fellows, having wheezy immediately, worked to shove themselves into the blushing blossom’s plump snatch. They were all relative strangers to the art of penetration, having spent their waning years unknowingly manscaped by their umpteen years of scruff-free slumber.

Crystal pieced her individuals one at a time, mistaking their initial attempts as “reappearing acts,” not realizing each ‘volunteer’ simply couldn’t find his way out of the mangled web called “her by-age.” They persisted with renewed vigor, their bits flopping and bouncing across her torso like unruly kangaroos.

“Oh my god!” Jennifer exclaimed, bouncing, “I can’t tell the boys apart!” A mistake she swiftly regretted, as Grandpa Joe, driven into a frenzy by her admission, approached her in nothing but his “Wishing for Baseball” t-shirt.

“I’ll show you who’s who, little Miss!” Joe crowed triumphantly, removing his dentures as he managed to find his way into Crystal’s trunk. “This old boy still knows how to hit a ‘home run!'”

Jennifer, though she would never admit it, was being flooded by her urges. Though each man was older than her great-grandfather, there was something about their eagerness that turned her gears. Against her better judgment, she allowed herself to be taken, each man doing his best to traverse her landscape.

As they went, Gramps swapped spit and made an airtight seal with every stretch and grab. “I ain’t gonna let a bit of drool stop my aim, missy!” It was a hard knock banger, but one Crystal knew she could handle. Each had his own ‘special’ technique, such as “The G especially,” involving a strategic “Meticulous T surprisingus.” These were the so-called tactics of seven, battle-worn gunslingers after all.

As they approached the finish line, Jennifer stopped counting the bodies they’d left and focused instead on the fulfilling her dare, no matter how embarrassing it was becoming. One by one, the Blue Pill Men met their shortcomings, their bits all too uncoordinated for their own good.

Johnny had the decency to bring a ‘drizzle’ cup, while Gramps made a mess of her marinara with his “Well-aged glaze.” The others, well, dove headfirst into their own one-man pie shops, their bits too tired to finish the race. As they left, Jennifer remained, legs aflame and torso barely able to contain the spills they’d made of themselves.

In the end, Crystal was left breathless and spent, a war zone of sweat and battle stains. But as she surveyed the damage, she couldn’t help but smile. It was her first taste of true intergenerational strife, and it was a memory that would stay with her forever. The Blue Pill Men had given her something she’d never forget, and as she limped out of the studio, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

In the end, the Blue Pill Men got their fill, and Crystal discovered there was more to love than just youth. The night was a true Hail Mary – a bit of a nightmare, to be honest, but one she’d never forget. And though she’d have to change her name after this one, she knew she’d never be shy about venturing into the unknown again. They were, after all, only human… just with extra dings and scratches.