Tracey Parker is a gay cruising fanatic who travels around the world and to share his escapades with Squirt.org members This time, Tracey transports us to a moment at the annual D.C. Pride Festival with another evocative hookup tale taking place after hours, with revenge fuckery and complicated emotions that come with seeing an ex during the Pride festivities.

I had been rebuilding myself emotionally ever since February when, in that dark, cold, snowy winter, Chris—the guy I had been obsessed with, talking to, and pretending was my boyfriend—told me that he had just met somebody new, Charles, and that this new guy would now suddenly become his boyfriend.

Chris and I had met in a group of mutual friends. We were both new to the group and we connected immediately. 

Slowly, I began to become friends with the others, but Chris stood out among them, consuming all of my attention. Everyone in the group assumed we were an item and treated us as such. But what nobody knew was that Chris was very standoffish and would constantly send mixed messages. I was playing along, desperately in love and desperately in lust, hoping for the best and instead getting the worst possible outcome.

It was like overnight he just disappeared into a new life with someone else. Initially, I would see them at events, and it would throw me into a jealousy, anger, and betrayal more intense than I had ever experienced. But fortunately, they stopped hanging out with us altogether. This gave me the space to rebuild myself, and by June, I had practically forgotten about them.

I went to the parade on a Saturday afternoon with the same group of friends with whom I had met Chris. He was ancient history. 

We picked a spot on 17th Street, and I watched the decorated floats pass us by while keeping an eye out for eye candy, as always.

Some floats got bigger applause than others. As we were talking, one float passed us by like a ship sailing to sea, along with the last of the guys marching alongside it. 

Just then, I saw them. It was Chris and Charles, dressed in unbuttoned leather vests and tight jeans.

My body became hot with a jealousy that I hadn’t felt in months. It was like a volcano had erupted inside me, its hot lava melting my internal organs. I felt quiet and separated from my friends. I followed the parade from a distance, keeping my eyes locked on the two of them. Eventually, the crowd became too dense to allow me to follow any further, and I had to find my way back to my friends. 

Midnight

Everybody was packed into the basement party like sardines. It was a massive space, but there were so many people there. 

I had never seen anything like it. Almost everyone was shirtless. Moving around the venue meant squeezing by men with your hands in the air as your face grazed their armpits and you felt their breath on the back of your scalp. 

Squeezing through the crowd was the only dancing that was happening, but with the music and the friction of the bodies, it began to feel like we were all fucking. Some people were kissing, and others were doing much more. 

Around the basement, there were stages with strong spotlights pointed at them. Groups of men, as well as couples, would get onstage and perform different scenes while others stood around and watched.

The stage closest to me was empty, and a handsome young guy from the venue staff was cleaning it off for the next performance.

I was so focused on watching his every move that I didn’t even notice Chris and Charles get onto the stage. I was already in disbelief about the entire party, and now, with this happening, I sincerely began to question my reality.

I had come here out of an undeniable urge to spy on them, and I had no idea it would be so easy. Charles took a seat on a wooden chair and spread his legs wide, his cock hanging low. It was massive. Chris got onto all fours and began walking around the stage like a puppy as people reached out to put their hands all over him.

As Charles watched the audience touch his man, his cock began to engorge, pointing straight out toward the crowd like a third leg. Chris looked at Charles quickly, the way a puppy would, and turned to face him, leaving his bare ass pointed toward the audience. People were sticking their fingers inside his hole and grabbing his legs; you could tell Chris was loving it. His cock was hard, too.

Chris began to slowly crawl toward Charles, and the crowd began cheering. The knot in my heart returned. I couldn’t believe what I was watching. I was so jealous of the attention they were getting, as well as the fact that Chris had never mentioned any of these fetishes to me; being watched and ogled and blissfully degraded for all to see never came up in our relationship.

Charles continued to touch Chris as if he were his property. I wanted to scream, but who could hear me over the music? 

In all of this, from behind me, I began to notice somebody was looking at me. I felt part of the attention towards me, but I wouldn’t engage with this right now; not with what was going on in front of me. The man was closer. His breath on my neck. 

I felt confusion as my own dick raised slightly below through my pants, filling with blood at the lust I was confronting. Was Chris and Charles turning me on in their hedonistic acts among all the complicated emotions?

On the stage. Chris was back on all fours with his mouth open and his tongue out, grazing the tip of Charles’ cock. Then, I felt the guy behind me unbuckling my belt and reaching for my cock, which was now very hard.

I held my hands up, as many others were doing, feeling the man behind me jerking me off. 

I asked myself what I was feeling and realized it was pleasure—a different kind of pleasure than I had ever known. It was a jealousy and betrayal so deep that when the man touched me and I watched the men on stage.

Moans left my lips as the man jerked me off; I allowed myself to give in as men around us watched me drop my pants just above my knees, letting my rock-hard cock get jerked by a perfect stranger.

I lost control. Closing my eyes; opening them only slightly to see more men turning around, paying attention to me, watching my own hedon take away some of Chris and Charles’ spotlight.

I loved it. I turned slightly, as the man rocked my cock and I grazed his neck with my lips, trying to engage with the intimacy and the eroticism of the moment. He jerked me harder and faster. Men around us licked their lips and smiled at me as they caught my eye. 

I came, squirting a huge load onto the man in front of me, right onto his tank top, leaving a white dollop of cum on his black shirt. 

He didn’t mind, and in this party where people can be expected to be splashed with jizz, sweat and lust, he wiped it with his fingers and brought it to his lips, licking the goo. I closed my eyes and let my jerk-off friend kiss me hard from behind.

2 a.m.

As I left the basement and walked through the typical crowd of smokers and groups of friends outside planning where to go next, the city looked like an apocalypse. The parade route was full of trash trucks and dozens of sanitation workers making giant piles of debris and hauling it away. It was dark, the rainbow flags were being thrown onto the piles of trash, and I felt lighter. I had left something inside that basement, though I had no idea what it was. I had felt things I had never felt before. I began to accept that I’d never be able to fully understand what had just happened.