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Celebrating Pride Week with Kinky Friends

Pride Umbrella

Smells like Cum, Tastes Like Rome

Pride Week makes me dizzy, and — let me confess here and now — cum-drunk on extravagance. Thank our dear gay lord that it’s only once a year. Not that I’m an angel in the meantime, I assure you, but you get the idea.

This year was yet another sloppy fiasco, although I was merely a participant (so I can only be accused of being a slut, not of being a mastermind slut.)

The city opened its doors to guys from around the world, and I competed in a game that only Pride could inspire, something we called Guess Where I’m From? The winner gets to be the gangbang-toy for whomever is left standing…and anyone else who’s walked through the door in the meantime. Here’s how are game unfolded:

1. Ten bottoms (myself included) were blindfolded and chained.

2. Different tops from around the world tag-team fucked us. Based on the fucking, we had to guess which country they were from… as though that were even possible.

3. Round two had us tag-team cocksucking. Could we tell what country these cocks hailed from, from the taste alone? As if. But it was a great excuse to be whorey. (All the uncut cocks sometimes at least got us in the ballpark of a catholic country.)

4. No score? How about a whispered accent in the ear? Maybe we could discern the romance languages, but no one was prepared to guess and end the game early.

5. The sudden death round had us opening wide, eating the cum, tasting for “the spice” that would tell all. (Beforehand all the tops had eaten meals from their respective cultures.)

What then ensued was a whole lot of snowballing, which of course made it impossible to tell anything once the loads were all mixed up. Wild guesses were tossed meaninglessly around the room. I thought I’d scored once when I guessed Italy, but it turns out it wasn’t peperoni I was tasting after all.

No one won. Of course.

But the losers were fucked and fed. Not a bad deal. Somehow I suspect it’s how the game always turns out.

And for those who’d walked through the door in the meantime, well, we let them have a go at us too. It’s Pride: we love everyone.

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