There's a wide range of fetishes. Some people like big freakishly big dicks,
some people like having sex to Reggaeton, and some people like being covered in
plastic and being submerged until they're on the brink of death, only to be
pulled out of the water at the last minute and left on the pavement, panting,
breathing, barely alive. It's all good,
as long as you're safe and responsible.
You, however, have a particularly nasty fetish.
You only like men named Filbert.
It's really, really tough to find men named Filbert
nowadays. It's been out of fashion to
name one's child Filbert for like...a century.
But still, you try, using a combination of Google, Ancestry.com and a
set of private detectives who work for you because you're a "dark dame
with a shadowy past up to no good."
Well, today, you're going to realize something.
"Men can legally change their names," you'll tell
your girlfriend.
"Yahuh," she'll say, not really paying attention
to you.
"So I could just find a nice guy, and then fuck him
until he changes his name to Filbert."
"Ahguezz," she'll reply.
"Jackpot," you'll say, making the universal
gesture that indicates 'jackpot' status with your arm. No more fucking dudes with erectile
dysfunction named Filbert for you!
Which, by the way, is a thing.
Every dude named Filbert having erectile dysfunction, I mean.
Congratulations Filbert Enthusiast!
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