Grandpa?

The first person that Walter linked up with was his... father?

On the other side of the screen sat a dilapidated old man of around 80. His shirt was discarded to the side showing his forest of chest hair to the world. His few remaining wisps of hair on his balding head were concealed by a black fedora to match the black bowtie he wore like a choker around his neck. His pants, while still technically remaining on his body, had been unzipped and opened. Worst of all, his tiny, shriveled dick was out on display, a bottle of lube within hands reach.

,Both Walter and Tim nearly gagged at the sight, but somehow, with willpower that must have rivaled gods, Walter managed to keep himself steady.

"Hey there, beautiful. My name's Matthew," he muttered, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "That's the name you'll be screaming when you come tonight."

As politely as he possible could, Walter grunted back, "Sure. In your dreams, maybe."

Matthew recoiled at the sound of his gruff, masculine voice. "Ugh! Are you one of those disgusting transvestites? They should ban you from this site."

And with that, he disconnected, and both Walter and Tim breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Well, that was certainly something," Tim said shakily. His father nervously laughed.

"Remind me never to watch that VHS again."

"Try again?"

"Yeah, sure. Let's hope it's not another old man with his dick out."