Hi folks, it’s time for a little update on my latest work in progress, code named, “Eagle.” It’s Wombat’s story and it follows right on the heels of the climax of “Restore the Night.” You know the scene, where Wombat is arrested and released off screen then joins Nickel at his house and bugs the cops hanging around?
But wait, Calia, what in the heck does that have to do with the title of this post? Or the pool floatie for that matter?
I’m glad you asked… see it goes back to a scene in Lights Camera Mayhem where Wombat casually drops a hint that he likes older women.
Cue up a music search because this video came to mind, but my goodness, I don’t remember it being quite so… cringe? Maybe that was the whole point? IDK.
Except if you look a little deeper, it becomes quite clear that the intent of the video is to point out the absurdity of the age gap and the fact that the clueless kid really doesn’t stand a chance against the hot Masseur. (Yay, a fun fact, that whole male female french word twist was a quaint little rabbit hole of about a minute.)
An even funnier rabbit hole was discovering that I mistakenly thought Bowling for Soup did that song. 🤣
Okay, enough about the trip back into the days of yore. Let’s talk Wombat and his obsession for older women… like his lawyer. (Oh wait, the club’s lawyer) That’s right, he’s going to stick his dick in it. Literally.
I’m having so much fun with this story, and I’m excited to get it written so you all can laugh along with me. (And cry, there’s really tough stuff and I’m only on chapter ten! Trigger warnings!) Here’s a snippet of the dick measuring contest I just finished today (It’s ROUGH, don’t @ me.) It’s from Wombat’s POV and they’re at the barn shooting the shit.
With a wheeze, Walt asked me, “Why the hell did you give away your number then?”
(from code name “Eagle” a Destroyers MC novel expected to release in the second half of 2026)
“I’m a sad, pathetic, weak man.” ‘Might as well neutralize their ammo from the start.
They laughed along with me that time.
Kid mused as we shot the shit. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to meet the right one.”
Walt slapped him on the back and jokingly replied. “She’s got to be at least a decade older. Probably a school teacher or maybe a dominatrix nun. Yeah. That’s Wombat’s type. Long legs, high heels, and a ruler. Whap!” He clapped his hands together. “You like ‘em like that, right?”
Dominating? No. Self-assured, yes.
“Yeah. A ruler.” I grabbed my dick through my jeans and shook it. “Better yet, make it a tape measurer. Because I out girth you both.”
Kid whistled. “Them’s fighting words.”
Walt frowned. “I ain’t taking him up on that. You ever stand next to him when he takes a piss?”
“It’s rude to look,” Kid shot back.
“Bullshit.” Walt called his bluff. “You’ve seen plenty of dick. How many threesomes have you had? A hundred?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“If my dick was an inch longer, I would.” Walt fired back.
“Did you know that the average taint on adult males is two inches?”
Both men turned to stare at me.
You’d think by now they’d be used to my trivia outbursts.
Kid broke first. “Did you just say Walt has a one-inch dick?”
“I said nothing of the sort.” Walt said it himself.
With that, Walt protested. “Ya gotta wrap it over your balls first, then have enough left over to insert it and make it good, you dumbasses.”
Both Kid and I shared a look of astonishment that asked, Did he really admit that he’s tried?
Not completely clueless, Walt caught on. “Damn it. You two are dickheads.”
Boots tromped down the back stairs. “Did someone call my name?”
“Thank god, I’m saved by the village idiot. Tell them you need at least seven inches to fuck yourself.”
Kid and I tried not to crack under pressure. Boots just looked dumbfounded. His wife slipped out of his shadow and stretched her middle finger and thumb apart to measure and then curled both on themselves.
“I don’t think it works like that. Once the blood flow stiffens the—”
Boots wrapped his hand over her mouth. “Baby? They’re not being literal.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes. She nodded, and a muffled “Oh,” leaked out.
[cue this author’s maniacal laughter]
