It Happened On Manhunt: The Accidental Rimjob

There aren’t any words that can prepare you for today’s installment of It Happened On Manhunt. We purposefully attached a very vague title to this post, since we didn’t want to spoil any of the details. Some of you will be shocked and disturbed by this story. Others might not think it’s a big deal at all. Of course, you won’t know either way until you’ve read it!

If you wind up skimming through this and thinking to yourself, “Hey, I’ve had something crazier or hotter happen to me on Manhunt! Why isn’t my story featured on here?”… Well, you’re in luck! We’re still on the search for the best of the bunch.

Simply write us an e-mail at daily@manhunt.net with the words “Best Manhunt Story” in the subject heading. Remember, the folks behind the top entries will receive a FREE month of unlimited membership to Manhunt. What do you have to lose?

– Dewitt

Photo credit: Boyz Party

To read this member’s story, follow the JUMP:

Early on when the Stephenie Meyer Twilight series started to become popular, I ran to the bookshelves, came home and applied my pimple cream all over again – they are, like, totally awesome! In case you aren’t familiar with the Twilight saga, the second installment introduces a new character, Jacob a werewolf, for Bella the protagonist to be torn over – the first being Edward, a vampire. Come on people: it’s exactly like real-life. I am also torn: the wolf or vampire?

Fast forward 5 years.

I was on Manhunt and noticed there was a guy asking for a “legit” massage. With piqued interest and made nostalgic of my days of massaging (image: old man in his rocking chair talking to his grand-kids), I messaged him and then sent over the rest of my statistics, stats if you will, as well as asked him what he meant by a “legit” massage.

He said, “I know this is a gay hook-up site. I am straight, but open-minded and know only another guy would pay attention to what a guy would really want. I want a real and worthwhile massage BEFORE any of the gay business happens, which I am open to. But only AFTER the massage.”

“Of course!” I say. “I’m not like that,” I typed with a smirk. “Okay. Come over,” he said… How convenient? He lived about four blocks away; it was exciting to me: any time a “straight” guy wants me to feel him up and is good looking to boot, I am there.

We both unlocked our photos in our small exchange – a must when hooking up on-line, my friends. Merely a hop, skip and a jump away and that’s exactly what I did: gleefully skipped over – all I needed was my little wicker basket and red cape. I entered his apartment, walked in–as directed in our email correspondences–and found him face down, butt-naked, totally ripped. He left out an assortment of oils and lotions for me to use on him.

I, in turn, dropped trou and began to feel him up… legitimately. I failed to mention that he was drunk. He told me while I was kneading out his knots that he had been drinking for the past few hours and that I could help myself to any beer or wine I could find in the refrigerator. “Thank you.”

My fraternity days had taught me that once you break the seal, you are doomed to be at the mercy of your bladder at any point. For “Jacob,” it was every ten minutes. It wasn’t bad though. It gave me a chance to take a sip of Riesling, relax and make sure I wasn’t dreaming. About what? Well, I had a crazy handsome and in-shape, obviously straight, muscular guy allowing me to rub him up and down, over and out… and okay, I munched on his butt and slobbed on his knob as well. He gave me the “okay” since I showed I was able to give a good massage. Hey! Good work needs to be rewarded. I’m just sayin’.

He excused himself to the latrine for the fourth time, a perfect opportunity to refill my wine glass. When I tidied up the work area – his bed – I heard a rustle, but not one that would indicate “Jacob” was coming out of the bathroom. I turned around quickly and heard it again. It was coming from the corner of the room. “What the fuck?!” If it were a dog or a cat, it would have made noise, but it didn’t. I thought the worst.

“Jacob” stumbled out of the bathroom slurring, “Ready for round five?” As calmly as I could, I asked him what was in the corner of the room? “Something wants to get out – now.” He put his head in his hand and said: “Man, I could get into so much trouble. You have to promise not to rat me out.”

I nodded and braced myself as he removed a blanket neatly spread over the top of a dog-crate. No barking, no purring. I was freaking the fuck-out silently with a slightly opened mouth. I mean, I’m not a puss, but what else would you keep in a dog-crate other than a domestic animal? When he unlatched the door on the cage, a few seconds passed before anything/anyone revealed itself. Then, a 7-month old wolf darted all over the place. WHAT?! “Isn’t he cute?” Jacob asked.

I don’t know if you watch Oprah, but there was this particular interview that replayed in slow motion in my mind. The “Color Purple” star invited a Connecticut woman on the show whose face was ripped off by her friend’s pet chimp.

Cut to me sitting on the bed naked. WHAT?! The fucker was jumping all over the place! He was cute, I’ll admit that, but I don’t know what it wants, where it’s been, what it has. Then again, it was probably thinking the same about me, but that’s besides the point! I was an innocent masseur trying to get his rocks off with some smoking hot guy and this furball pops in to bust my move.

“Jacob” grabbed the little guy and started snuggling with it. “You know what? Did you know when you catch a wolf, it’s yours?” Creepy; not that he said it, but creepy because he KEPT saying it. Are you possessed? Is it a fucking full-moon out tonight? Are you a member of the Order of the Wolf?

He motioned for me to pet it. I obliged as the future man-mauler had a tiny pink tongue that wanted to lick my non-threatening hand. Aw. “Can we get back to your massage?” He kissed the wolf and let it free in the apartment. Now why wouldn’t you put it back in the crate? Anyway, I just smiled and kept a look-out for its whereabouts.

“Jacob” plopped back on the bed face down and I slowly got back into rubbing every muscle on his uber-toned and muscular back, shoulders, glutes, and legs (melt!) all the while maintaining a side-eye on the bugger. In the midst of working on a huge knot in his back, “Jacob” let out a caveman-like grunt and distracted me and my focus on this tiny wolf. I lost him! I couldn’t find him! I was quietly panicking! Where is it?!

In a moment, the tiny wolf appeared right next to us. It was a scene from the Book of Genesis: two naked humans and the naked wolf. I tried not to give off any sense of shock or panic, so I kept rubbing out “Jacob’s” knots. Then it happened: the tiny wolf began to work on my knot… my BALLOON KNOT! The wolf was rimming my asshole!

I was utterly shocked. I kept moving my butt to get it away, but it insisted on licking my chocolate starfish with it’s tongue as gently as it had done with the back of my hand. I wanted to swat the pooch away, but I was reminded of that woman’s free facial a la Prince Kong. Needless to say, I wasn’t into the massage and “Jacob” noticed: “What’s going on back there?”

DeeCue is a writer for the blog So, there was this guy… Note: Manhunt Daily does not endorse beastiality in any way, shape or form. We do, however, think this story is fucking hilarious… Aside from the whole “man kidnapping a live wolf” part. That’s just tragic.