My Day At The Gay Pride Parade Pt 1

It feels like my insides are getting slicker. The lube aside, it feels like my asshole is getting wet at the stimulation.
*****
‘She said to meet her down here..,’ I think to myself in the summer heat as the parade starts trickling down Christopher street. It’s the pride parade; my girlfriend is bi so she dances on a float every year. No problem with that, she is who she is and I love her for it. I just wish there was an easier spot to meet up afterwards — the end of the parade route is always the most congested of places — it’s damn near impossible to cut through the hordes of people.
But if I have to wait, I may as well have a good view — using a lamppost for leverage, I have just that. Toes hooked on the cement riser, I’m a head and shoulder above the crowd; it’s not a bad place to be, it’s just an obvious one. Everyone can see me.
‘Hopefully Teresa will be able to see me from here; finding each other afterwards is always a bitch.’
“Nice kilt!,” many people yell at me in passing; others yell out over the music and cheers, “I like your style!”
I just yell back “thank you” at the top of my lungs with a smile — I can take a compliment, even when more than a couple people yell that they’d like to get up under my kilt.
Them though, I just laugh them off. I applaud their confidence, but I’m just not into it. I’m a 6’2″ white guy with a short cropped beard and buzzed head wearing all black. I don’t think I’m traditionally handsome but I suppose I’m something to look at. I mean, my girlfriend likes me despite the fact that she usually goes for...