‘Tis the season when the flags come out, the marchers start marching and a Facebook group of 30,000 people calling themselves “One Million Moms” get their straight-laced panties up in a wad.
It’s Pride Month, of course. And like any great societal observance we’re asked to look back and reflect on what it means to be proud, and what we’re proud for.
Stonewall, the legacy of Harvey Milk, Obergefell v. Hodges… the people involved in these moments in LGBT history all agreed on one key construct: Pride means embracing who you are and defying anyone to tell you differently.
As with any culture, there are subcultures. The sexpig is certainly a subculture, and within that you have your various fetishes and proclivities.
If, when you get home from a hard day handling multiple clients at the office, you want to strip down and take multiple cocks in your hole – you go on and do that. It’s your right as a queer sexpig.
If nothing lights you up in the morning than a night under a rimseat, tonguing ass and taking piss… you’re a beacon in our community.
If cum spurting from a thick veiny dick and into your willing mouth or ass while railing on Rush or something else is what makes you happy, then fuckin’ squeal, piggy.
There will always be people who don’t understand, and you must understand that. That goes for the broader spectrum of LGBT people as a whole, and from within our own community towards our subset. Just like some straights will never come near a pride rally, there’s some gays that will avoid Folsom like it’s the plague. They’ll never put their feet up in a sling and be a cumwhore, and they’ll never put their bare dick in anyone under any circumstance.
But here’s the brilliant thing – that’s their choice and that is fine.
Just remember that you’re living your life, indulging in your desires, being you. And there’s nothing more awesome in this life.