Duluth Does Itself Proud: Our Colors Won't Run! - 2010 Duluth Gay Pride
Duluth had a lot to be proud about this past Labor Day Weekend. Their Annual Pride Celebration: Our Colors Won’t Run!, totally rocked. The crowd was great (very friendly) and the set up in Bayfront Park could not have been better managed or executed. The perfect weather didn’t hurt matters, either.
It was a spur of the moment trip for me. I just happened to get an email from Kristine W.’s official site (http://www.kristinew.com/ ), informing me that she would be headlining a free concert in Bayfront Park on Saturday. I tried to get someone to go with me, but ended up going alone – which suited me just fine; being alone afforded me the flexibility to do as I pleased, which also meant that I would get to spend some time at Duluth Family Sauna (http://www.duluthsauna.com/ ), one of my all-time, favorite, weird haunts.
I got a phone call late Friday night from my mother, who informed me that people were experiencing up to two hour delays heading to Duluth on 35W North. She knows my lack of tolerance when it comes to sitting in traffic, so I did a bunch of research to try and determine an alternative route. I didn’t feel comfortable with any of them, decided to just suck it up, and headed out two hours earlier than I originally planned. I wanted to get there about noon, when the sauna opens. Turns out I had nothing to worry about. I was there within 2.5 hours. Sure, there were a few delays – places where the speed limit was reduced to 55 mph for up to six miles at a time - but other than that the drive was smooth sailing.
Arriving ahead of schedule, I decided to go directly to the sauna and see if I could snag a free parking space. As luck would have it there were plenty available. I sat in my car for an hour, researching the pride site and taking care of some personal business. Then I got hungry and a tad bored, so I decided to risk getting towed and walk down to East Superior Street. First priority was to grab some food. It was only 11:30, but the only thing I’d had to eat that morning was a banana in the car on the way down. I spotted a little joint called Coney Island that looked promising, but before going in, my eye spotted my all-time favorite head shop:
Last Place on Earth
LPOE (120 East Superior Street) was in the news recently, having been raided for selling certain types of designer drugs that the FDA had not ruled illegal yet, but ones the MN Legislature did last April. So I was surprised to see the place open. I always go there to get poppers, when in town. I had just given my last bottle to a trick the day before, so I decided to pop in and pick up a new one. Last time I was there the clerks were super helpful. The line inside turned out to be hella long – so long, I decided not to risk getting my car towed. Nor did I want to stand in line forever for something I have been using less and less these days. My stomach took priority.
Coney Island (http://www.originalconeyisland.com/ ) is a cool little place. They have booths with wait service and take-out available. They serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner featuring burgers, dogs, and sandwiches along with a complete line of espresso drinks. The guy who waited on me was really sweet and I got a great tasting chicken salad sandwich with fries to go. I got to watch him make my fries in this single-order fryer. Yeah, I know, I am easily entertained. Made my way back to my car where I ate my grub and ran down the clock.
Duluth Family Sauna
I have the greatest time here. Sure it’s a little skeezy, but there is always someone worthwhile eventually. It is definitely a troll haven, but I have a lot of experience dodging them, so no problem. Check-in was a breeze, and I really toyed with the idea of doing the overnight package for $32.00, but, as it turned out, I am really glad I didn’t. Still – that package is a definite bargain. Instead I got the day-pass for $20.00. I thought, hey, even if I get nothing out of it but a nap and a shower, I still have to keep in mind that I got a free parking space downtown for the whole day!
Made my way downstairs, stripped, set up my locker, cleaned up, and then walked around to scope out who else might be in town. For the first two hours, I sat on my ass, checking out the Pride Guide and biding my time. There was this really hot Middle Eastern dude, kind of a bear, very furry, who had a great attitude, and I was kind of attracted to that. He kept going into a nearby room to sit on the bed. I knew he was waiting for me to join him, but I let him wait. I’ve grown increasingly selective this year, and while there was a time when I would have hopped on him like a Greyhound Bus headed to Nashville, this day, I remained on the fence. But then I noticed that it was almost 2:00 pm and I had gotten nothing. I wanted to be down to the park by 5:30 to catch Jessica Sutta, so I realized that time was going by fast. The Middle Eastern dude walked by me one last time, went in a room and sat on the edge of the bed staring at me. He was playing with his dick under his towel and I decided to go check out what he had. It was nice; only about 7 inches, but thick, so I went down on him. My mouth must have been dry (despite brushing and gargling), because for some reason I could not swallow him whole. It could have been the angle, too. But for whatever reason, his dick kept hitting my back palate. I only worked on him for about ten minutes, during which I checked out his bod, his nips, etc. There were no kisses forthcoming and he kept telling me he wanted to fuck my hole. It just wasn’t clicking, so I begged off and walked away. He was around the whole day, but we never got back together again. I simply wasn’t feeling it.
I headed to my locker, where I gargled. Just then a couple of new guys arrived. The one that caught my eye instantly was this rather short, built dude with a bald head. He had a great face and bod, and there was something about him that was super sexy. I knew that every other cocksucker in that place would be on his trail immediately, so after making eye contact and offering up a smile, I headed back to the futon couch.
The futon couch is my favorite place to hang there, in the back hallway. I never spend any time in the video room or the television room, because there’s something about those scenes that does not appeal to me. On this trip the sauna also did not seem very appealing, probably because they still haven’t bothered to paint the place and the soggy, peeling paint is kind of a bummer. So, I stuck to cruising the hallways around the fuck rooms, the futon couch, my locker, and the showers for my whole stay.
Another thing? I can’t get over all the guys walking around wrapped up in their towels. Me, I just let it all hang out. If you like what you see, let me know. I think it might have something to do with my naked yoga classes, but I really am over the whole nudity thing – I mean, my dick is what it is – it can be shy sometimes and bold others, but it’s just a dick. So I guess you could say I am over myself – I am just surprised at the number of guys who are not.
I wait on the futon for about twenty minutes, and made the rounds. Jackpot. There was my little buddy, lying naked in one of the front rooms. There is something predatory and sexy about slipping into a room and taking a dude’s dick in your mouth. Cheap thrill, for sure, but that instant, easy acceptance feels so good washing over me every time it works. This certainly worked. Dude is only about five feet tall, maybe less, not an ounce of fat on him, and yet his body is perfect, not stringy. We mesh in all the right places and the kisses come tentative at first, but as the action heats up, our lips merge into an almost permanent bond. His dick is about 7.5 inches and slides down my throat with ease. It’s kind of a perfect fuck – twenty minutes of athletic action hitting all the right spots. He fucks my hole and tells me when he’s about to shoot. I decline to come, and, other than sucking on me early during the session, he doesn’t appear all that interested in getting me off. That suits me fine, as I still have a good two hours to play before heading down to Bayfront Park.
We part ways, and while it only lasted for like twenty minutes, it was definitely a quality fuck. I think the dude leaves almost immediately, but before he does leave, I catch him berating this tall, nerdy, twink – like a Dad catching his son at the baths. I keep an eye out, but never see either of them again. In the meantime, I gargle, douche, and shower.
Then I decide to experiment a little. I start going into rooms and lying face down, just to see who might be brave enough to hit on me. This aging pony boy with a big mustache that I’d seen much earlier in the day comes in and starts fingering my hole. I’m on the fence, but he is cute, and his body is very, very nice for someone his age. In fact, later, I catch him naked, in profile, and his body turns out to be positively Grecian. I angle my head back and he raises his towel for me. His dick doesn’t seem to be much at first glance, but once I get it in my mouth, it responds really well, and within five minutes he tells me he’s about to lose his load. I swallow it. He gives me a thank you kiss and exits. I go gargle and then head back to the futon.
As I’m about to sit on the futon, two new guys come in, looking for their lockers. One is about my height, buzz cut, with a real handsome face. I think I know him from the twin cities. Nope, I don’t. He gives me a brilliant smile and says ‘hi’. I’m a goner. I ask him if he’s there to see the concert down in the park and he doesn’t seem to know anything about it. I explain and he heads on to his locker. He’s with a tall, thin, cute, older twink with a massive head of auburn hair and I am wondering what the relationship between them might be.
I bide my time. There are a lot of dudes there now, but I’m kind of holding out for Mr. Buzz Cut. Among those making the rounds is this really handsome, curly-headed dude. He’s short and stocky, furry all over, very tan and very muscular. Every sucker in the place is cruising him, and while I have noticed him, I have avoided him because he keeps talking to himself under his breath – and it is a constant monologue/dialogue, not just the occasional comment to self. Such people, especially if they are hot, are on my must-avoid list because playing with such a person never ends well. This dude is wound a bit too tightly for me and while I don’t think he’s on any kind of substance, there is something him that screams self-loathing, and I would hate for him to take his self-hatred out on me. So, I am sitting on one end of the futon couch and he is at the other. He is starting to take an interest in me, and while I would love to see his dick, I am really trying to figure out if getting a peek would be worth dancing with danger. Unfortunately, Mr. Buzz Cut seems to be MIA, so, after the curly-haired potential psycho gives me the eye while playing with his dick under his towel, I decide to head into a nearby bedroom to see if he follows. As I get up, another dude is heading down the hall toward me and immediately engages psycho in some type of conversation, by asking questions about pride. I pause in the doorway of the room and am thinking better of going inside, when who should appear, but Mr. Buzz Cut, who asks me, quite charmingly , if I’d like to spend some time with him.
Ummm, ya think?
We slip inside and shut the door. There’s nothing tentative about either of us being together. He lies down on the bed and I start sucking him. His body is nice, not super muscular or tight, but nice all the same. His dick is 7.5 inches and slides easily down my throat. He’s somewhat verbal and very appreciative of everything I’m doing. We 69 for quite a bit; his throat just as deep as mine. The kissing is magic from the get go. We’re very athletic, very active – yet, there is nothing frantic about any of it. It’s just solid… as solid as the fuck I’d experienced earlier with the short bald dude. And like then, in this instance, I climb on top and tease his dick with my hole by rubbing the crack of my ass along its length. Then, without touching his dick, I manage to place the head of it right on my pucker. Again, I tease him. This is my way of finding out if the dude wants bareback or covered. He wants bareback. He pops in and I feel a huge rush as the head of his dick inches down my ass. I go slow. Lately, I love slow. That’s why I don’t need poppers. I remain in charge. I remain clear headed. In that way, I get my maximum pleasure.
Tempo increases… my dick is hard as a rock, as he’s hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. I know I’m going to cum way before he’s ready – and at about the 20 minute mark that’s exactly what happens. I jizz on his chest and abs. We’re both moaning. Then we change positions. On our sides. Then doggy style. Then he places me on my back. I concentrate on really enjoying his hard cock rubbing my insides as the most delightful sensations emanate from deep within me. We’re incredibly in sync. Before I know it, I’m hard again! And that never happens anymore. Between kisses, I start to encourage him to breed me, to use my hole. Instead, when the moment comes, he pulls out and shoots a huge wad that hits my neck, the next, my chest and so on. He collapses on top of me. We’re a sweaty, cum drenched mess. He puts his full weight on me and I relish this sensation, my legs still wrapped around his torso.
We remain this way for the longest time. I’m enjoying the sensation of my hard dick pressed against his wet, spent one. We grind. Gradually my legs come down. We stir that mess that binds us with our bodies, creating even more sweat. He feels wonderful on top of me. His ass is so fucking manly. I want to eat it, fuck it. My arms encircle him, bear hugs, then tenderness, slight rubs to the tension areas of his back. His face is buried in my neck. Everything is moist and hot. We fucked for like forty minutes and then spent another thirty rubbing on each other. He moans deeply the entire time and I am thinking that the guys on the other side of the door are hearing quite a show.
Suddenly, he’s hard again. We nut fuck for a bit longer. When we finally roll off each other, we play with each other’s dicks. I’m feeling greedy and kind of want to fuck him, but I resist, and the moment passes. The kissing is still good. As I lie there I realize this is a dude I could easily fall asleep with, our bodies entwined.
We rise, collect ourselves. Walk back to the showers together. In the shower room, other dudes move in, grabbing at our still throbbing dicks. I push them away, jokingly. I head back to my locker. I told him I needed to get to the park for the concert and would be back around 8:00 pm or so. Before I leave I witness the twink dude he arrived with leaving in kind of a huff and I feel bad. I know what it’s like to go to a bathhouse with a friend and have the friend disappear for a couple of hours – but then I also know that is part of the scene. Oh, well.
Refreshed, feeling totally fulfilled, and with thoughts of a possible second time around with Mr. Buzz Cut playing in the back of my head, I make my way down to the shore. The layout is perfect: the entrance to the park, the food wagons, a second entry way to the park, the booths, and then the stage. Tina and the B Sides are just finishing. There’s a fifteen minute wait. I go in search of food. A foot long egg roll. Jessica Sutta first, she’s a former Pussycat Doll. Her set seems brief. She’s a very engaging performer, very personable. Her voice is strong. She does a nice job of finding herself a place on that massive stage and saves her big hit for last – “Show Me”.
Then, another 15 minutes of transition time. I get a piece of pizza. It’s spongy and a tad greasy. Too much garlic. Water. I need water! Then the bathroom. The drag queen on stilts is singing, filling time until Kristine W. makes her entrance. On the way to the can I run into a dude from Minneapolis that I used to know quite well. He sang on a demo of mine in like 1998 or something. We flirt. He is so sweet; a handsome, young bear with a great build and a winning smile. He tells me he will be in the parade the next day, riding his motorcycle. I chat with his friends and then head to the can.
I make my way back to the stage. Kristine enters. She has two male dancers with her and leads off with her new hit single, “Everything That I Got”. I downloaded the radio edits last week and it’s been playing in my car the entire week before this event. The crowd is into it, responding in kind when the call and response section comes up. She sings many, but not all of her hits. When she did Minneapolis’ Pride two, three years ago, she did all her number ones. This time, she skips “Fade”, “The Boss”, “Be Alright”, and “The Power of Music”. She offers us a taste of her new CD, in the form of a cover of Chaka Khan’s “Through the Fire”. The mix is good. The dancing, entertaining. At one point, the dancers don leather bondage gear, and reenact a section of Madonna’s last tour where one dancer is a wild horse and the other the man who will tame him. As homage it works, I guess, but other than to cover a costume change, I question why she’s copying Madonna.
Kristine. She’s in excellent voice. Also, she actually appears more beautiful and younger than three years ago. Her hair is natural, gone is the giant, yellow curled wig. She has a winning way with the crowd, touching their hands, talking to people, telling the crowd how much she is enjoying her time in Duluth. She announces her upcoming CD and the fact that she has a 5:00 am flight in the morning, because she’s scheduled to sing at the Democratic National Convention the next day.
I take a million photos, most of them really bad – lots of mic in the face shots, or just missed moments. Still, I manage to get a few decent ones. And it was so great to see her again; definitely worth the trip. I start to head over to the table to buy something, and get her autograph again, but then I remember what an idiot I had been the last time I saw her, babbling on about having bought everything she’s ever recorded. Blech. I decide to skip it. Another time, perhaps.
I head back to the sauna, stopping in at Last Place on Earth again, on the way. But the line is too long, still, and I give up on the idea of getting new poppers. I check back in at the sauna and look at the clock. I really only have two and a half hours before I get kicked out. I shower and douche and then walk around. I see Mr. Buzz Cut. He’s on his way out, heading to a bar in Superior. He wants my number. I try to give it to him, but his phone dies. I text him my name and tell him to look me up if he’s ever in the cities. As he leaves, I curse my luck. There goes my evening.
And, as it turns out, I was absolutely right.
I walk around and the place is kind of dull. There is a black kid (?) that is kind of making moves on me, but he’s so odd about it, and I am not really into his body or anything. The same could be said of all the dudes that are left. I find a room, close the door and try to sleep, but sleep won’t come. I rest. A half hour later I get up. I walk around; nothing’s changed. I duck my head into the video room. A gross, twink film is playing. It has the opposite of its intended effect on me, and I leave without really entering. As I’m exiting, I feel a finger on my hole. Figuring that it is probably this goateed, young bear that hit on me earlier, I turn around ready to smile and say ‘no thanks.’ But it’s a hunky… and I do mean, hunky Hispanic dude. Early thirties? Square jaw. Handsome. Broad shoulders and a huge chest. I kind of like, but no one has ever approached me in such a strange manner before (finger on my hole?) so I turn and walk away. He remains hot on my heels. Did I give him the wrong impression? I try to find an empty room. I finally do, he follows me in, pushes me toward the bed, grabs my hips to put me in the position he wants and then fingers my hole again with one hand, while playing with his dick with the other.
He doesn’t shut the door. He tells me he’s gonna fuck me now. I’m like, good, then I can go home (I don’t say this, I just think it). He tries to enter me, no go. His dick is not all that impressive, maybe five inches? He tries three more times before we have contact. He pumps me for a bit and then slips out. Is it me? Is it him? By this point we have a crowd in the doorway watching. I glance back and see them stroking their dicks. He tries to fuck me again. And then again. It’s not right and I… just get up, smile and walk out, right past those that have gathered to watch. I go, douche, shower and then find another room, close the door and try to sleep.
I want to leave, but feel that running out the clock is the way to go… you know, just in case - just in case lightning strikes thrice. I don’t want to miss anything. I do keep checking out folks as the come in. I get hit on a lot, but decline. All sorts of weird offers – they want me to piss on them after the suck my dick, they want me to sit on their face and cum on their chest, they want me to help lure some dude they have the hots for into a room, so they can suck them off, etc. Eh. Not tonight, fellas.
I make my way to the showers and clean up. As I’m dressing a dude that has just arrived comes up to me all smiley-faced and fresh. He is kind of cute, short, and sweet with a nice bod, and had I been staying I would have messed around with him, but as it is, I just want to get on the road and get home. I make ‘nice’ with him and he gives me a hug and a kiss. Sweet.
On the road, my mind sorts itself out. I stop at a rest stop. I do my best to avoid all the cars that are swerving in the lanes in front of me (Drunk? Tired?). I feel confident about my ability to drive, because I have not had a single drop of alcohol all day.
I’m so happy I went. I had such a good time. I kind of wish I would have followed Mr. Buzz Cut to that bar in Superior, WI, but hey, my night was my night.
Duluth did an outstanding job. The entertainment was top notch (and free!). The food was good, the bottled water cheap. I love going up there any time of the year, but I will definitely make an effort to be back next year.
I had a blast.
In more ways than one!
(Update: Tuesday, Mr. Buzz Cut calls me on my cell. He has a text from me and doesn’t know why. I remind him that his cell had died, etc. We talk. He’s going camping and invites me along, but it’s too far away for me to go for a day trip, so I decline. We have some things in common. I tell him to hit me up if he gets to the cities. As he’s saying good-bye, he calls me a name that is not mine and I let it go, without correcting him. I will never see Mr. Buzz Cut again, sigh – even though I did remember his name. Ah, such is life.)