Sexually fluid

About 3 months ago, I went to Iceland with three friends. Between gorgeous landscapes, hot springs at Blue Lagoon, 23 hours of daylight, and Bjork sounding accents, it was one of my favorite trips ever.

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My friends and I were at a random bar on a Saturday afternoon in Reykjavik. We sat in a corner next to about 6 guys who were obvious Americans. My friends and I were bashing on Trump and they joined in the conversation. Few minutes later, we were buying beers for each other and 4 of us  gays were literally meshed in with these guys. They were all straight guys in their late 20’s and early 30’s, half of them have girlfriends and the other half married. They took a long weekend trip to camp out in the wilderness with their bros of Iceland. After several beers, they were all ready to hit the next bar. One of them had a smart phone app called Appy Hour that tells where the happy hours happen in Reykjavik. Apparently, next destination was Kiki Queer bar. It just happens to be a gay bar. So here we are, me and my 3 gay friends being brought to a gay bar in Iceland by 6 straight guys.

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