I will remember this moment forever. With a ten hour marathon of driving behind me, I looked at the stony hill beyond the road, the dried out lake bed on the near side, and the bright Nevada desert sun above it. A group of youngins sat in the sliver of the midday shade of an RV. One had green hair. One had cowboy pants and a bare bronze chest. A girly one had a skimpy top that revealed plenty of peekaboos at her full boob. I felt at home, party people like me.
I drove a short stretch along the tire tracks into the dried lake bed, lovingly called playa. The welcome gates were a few fence posts and toilets seemingly in the middle of nowhere. A cheery man in a tutu that tried to choke in the flub and bear hair greeted me. His eyes were buzzed from all that had happened. I stepped out of the car with the gears still in drive. Everyone screamed and stepped toward me. The car tried to take off the moment, I stood up. I quickly jumped in and stopped it. Fucking brain was mud baked after so many hours on the road.
Danger, the nickname of the bear in the tutu, greeted me with: “Welcome home.” That’s the loving acknowledgement that people drawn to Burning Man don’t fit in anywhere but here. After he found out that it was my first time, he guided me to one of those unconnected white porcelain toilets in the desert. He asked me to scream, “I am no longer a virgin,” while he gently whacked my bottom with a paddle. The toilet echoed back my voice. My throat scratched from the yell. So liberating to have silly, playful fun, without the people that would ask “Why would you yell into a toilet?”
Continuing at 5 mph to avoid kicking up dust and chocking everyone out took time. So did finding the way to my camp among a temporary city of tens of thousands of people. I climbed out of the driver seat to sit on the window. I casually let the car idle, while I looked over the roof, smiled, and waved at passer-bys. Everyone was busy setting up tents, dome structures, and elaborate art work. People with bug eyed goggles and cow pants waved back at me. This was going to be a mind blowing week in the desert.
After setting up my tent, late at night, I got to meet my camp mates. We had met over the Internet. A tall, long-black haired woman in a Russian fur coat with a bikini underneath it and a red mug of high octane liquor welcomed me with outstretched arms. We had never met. Yet, over e-mail, she had given me the nickname ‘Bad Boy.’ She hugged me warmly like a friend. Her cheek brushed again mine. Putting her arm around me, she yelled ‘Bad Boy is here!’
We were in a big tent with comfortable second hand carpet rolled onto the dusty desert floor. I meet Shivers, the big and silent guy, who had come with his ma. I meet queen, the young, lost girl that the camp had found stranded and adopted last year. Rambo was a guy from Victoria, Canada dressed in a Shibari bondage pattern with shoe lace thick string. This was going to be my family for a week.
I crashed pretty early that day. Getting used to the dust everywhere, including my nostrils, was new. I laid down, told myself, that’s the pad, the sleeping bag, and all I need is to close my eyes. Boom, a loud sound startled me to open my eyes. My tent was lighted as bright as day light middle in the night. I swiftly zipped down the door and lurched out. A car like straight out of Mad Max was rolling past our camp. A huge ass flame thrower was mounted on the car. Every minute or so, someone pulled a throttled. A fire ball four stories high burst into the night sky and doused everything with brightness. The air burned on the skin for a moment. Then, it was gone. Those were the guy from Thunder Dome, a camp inspired by the Mad Max movies.
The next morning started with a hellish hot tent. The heat captured inside the tent suffocated me. Lethargically, I crawled out of the sleeping bag and zipped down the entrance flap. The cool breeze outside rescued me. The camp was still asleep. A lone hippie girl on a bicycle with a makeshift cart tied to it rode down the dirt path between the camps. The plastic wheels of the cart rattled. The stillness of sound was an amazing respite. Adjacent camp spots were still empty with people on the road somewhere. . My camp mates had told me to cherish the early days, when there is still a chance to connect with neighbors before everything turns into a circus.
I threw a bit of deodorant under my arm pits and butchered my face with a disposable razor. Burning Man meant living in the desert for a week without running water. I dressed like an Arab in long white dress with a checkered red-and-white head and face covering. I felt naked underneath with the fresh morning breeze kicking up underneath and caressing my jewels. This was the place to experience freedom
The dirt road between the camp sites was solidified by water trucks. Bicycle tracks and footsteps had cracked through the surface crust. A group of three watched me from the darkness of a shade structure. Only their eyes moved. A camp block down, a girl with colorful ringed socks and pink bunny ears bounced around her camp. Her camp had a little picket fence and a pile of hoops wrapped with colorful tape. She smiled at me big with her arms hanging down to make her chin even more pointed: “Would you like a body painting.”
I grinned big. The gift economy has started. Burning Man is a place, where people give each other gifts. I rolled up my sleeves to show her my deltoids. She got a messy palette out of a box. It was so messy that she had to be an artist. She jumped her knees up to her chest in excitement, when she came over. Her eyes were black. She looked a bit helpless about life in general. “Oh, I’ll paint you a butterfly. I love butterflies.”
The paint felt cold on my skin. The brush gently tingled my skin. I did not dare to interrupt her. With her lips parted and eye brows frowned, she looked so concentrated. The butterfly had spirals for wings and spirals as feelers. A guy called out of an RV: “I want my morning kisses.” “Oh, honey, I’ll be right there. I just have to finish my artwork.” Five minutes later, she smiled big and jumped her knees to her chest on the way into the RV.
Further down the dirt road, I met a man to my liking – hot stuff. This 6’5” black guy was buff with muscles thick and swollen. He was stark naked save for a shiny red apron, a black melon hat, and pointed cowboy boots. His arms shook a big bag of chocolate. He hollered out with the baritone of baritone voices: “Chocolate!”
I reached both hands out for chocolate and dramatically fell on my knees. He handed me a piece of chocolate. The piece seemed tiny in his big brawns. His brown skin had such a rich hue. Biceps, abs, calves, everything bulged on him like a beautiful painting. The sweat on his pure skin was shiny.
“Can I swat that ass? Say yes, please!” I was melting at the god like man in front of me.
“You go ahead man.”
Swiftly like a cat, I got up from my knees, reached out, and swatted that sweet, tight butt. Ugh, feeling that strong muscle felt so good. The sound of the slap made the man chuckle. My heart skipped a beat to better experience the moment without distraction.
“Now, go on, or I’ll have you for breakfast,” said the man and walked on.
A good march down the dirt road, I arrived at a theme camp. They had a big square with inflated cushion. In the center of the square were two pillars. The batting sticks with soft cushion on both ends made the purpose of the arena clear. Two contestants were to stand on the pillars and attempt to push each other down. It seemed like a bowl of fun. None of the camp members were around. The streets had cleared from the raising temperature and torturing midday sun.
A lone milky guy in his early twenties walked down the path. He wore shorts and a bandit bandana over his face.
“Hey you! Wanna play?”
He looked up, pulled the bandana down, and nodded.
“Sure dude. I’m Falkor named after the luck dragon of the Endless Story.”
We stepped onto the pillars. We gentlemanly pushed each other. Nobody was falling. We put a bit more serious jabs in. I knew better than to be an asshole and fight out right. However, I knew a little Wing Chun Kong Fu theory. I lightly pushed him left. When he counter-acted by leaning right, I swiftly enhanced his own movement with a push right. Bam, he fell down.
I must have smiled a bit too victoriously, because the little nerdy dude came back on the pillar. And, he swatted me left and right in the face, until I was so stunned by the ferocity of the gentle hobbit that I fell over in a big arch. I landed neck first into the soft cushion. My Arab dress fell up to my belly. My butt and crown jewels freely mooned the word. My legs spread open wide to balance. What a precious tease, I gave to the world! And, it was all okay here at Burning Man.
Back on the pillar, we haggled for real. Yet, the sun made our death match end soon. By now, the midday sun was brutal. We were both running thick sweat pearls. Our lungs were panting trying to get cool. Yet, it was like inhaling the heat of a blow dryer. We agreed to shake hands and call it a draw.
Barely half a block down, an art car pulled up next to me. It was a black SUV dressed up with golden crosses to vaguely look like a church. Behind it, it pulled a flatbed trailer. The flatbed trailer contained a brown round tent and two catholic kneeling benches. A hand made sign offered “advance absolution for your Burning Man party needs.”
A girl in a sexy nun costume waved for me to step up to the flatbed trailer. Her nun uniform consisted of a small black dress, knee-high white socks, and a big white nun head dress. Her makeup was bright red lip stick and blue eye shades. I respectfully kneeled down in front of her. “What wild thing are you going to do tonight? We forgive everything in advance.” I had to shake my head and smile at the parody of the Roman Catholic Church. In the middle ages, they used to make money by selling absolution. A smart church accountant got the idea to sell absolution in advance to make more bank. They were basically printing money.
“Well, I usually love to hear all the dirty details of the sins that you are scheming.”
“You know what sweat heart. I need your absolution for sodomy. I’m gonna find myself a sweet boy tonight. And, we are going to get it on like there is no more tomorrow.”
“You are forgiven! Anything else? I can give you a two-for-one deal!”
There was movement in the brown tent. A monk in a brown sack garb with a white cord around the belly lifted the tent flap to look at me. Hidden by the shade of the tent, I could only see his hand making a come here motion. I rose and approached him.
“So, your sin of choice is sodomy. We could commit it right here.”
I smiled immediately with a giddy feeling. I seized up the monk. He was a slim build guy in his thirties. His skin was lightly dark, kind of olive in a way that made him constantly look dirty. There are black people so black that it scares you that such a black non-color exists. There are black people with a rich hue to their color. There are mixed skins that look like they constantly have the best tan ever. He looked dirty dark. His eyes looked intense. He wasn’t the most handsome lover. However, the thrill of the moment got me excited.
“You hot piece of ass,” said I and pushed me onto his body and inside of the tent. The inside of the tent was crude emptiness. Light seeped through every fold of the tent around us. It was simply fabric hanging down, not a neat stitched or zippered tent. I felt his whole frontal body. His mouth pushed onto mine. His tongue pressed hard in between my lips. There was nothing romantic – pure steamy lust. I moved my fingers through his rough curly hair. His hands were already feverishly grabbing my buttocks.
He ripped his monk costume over his head. I followed suit. We stood naked. I could smell him, his sweat, his manly smell, and filth from living in the desert without a shower. I had also the distinct mark of my personal smell. His dick was already erect. He pulled a blue condom out of nowhere and slipped it over his penis. Our swords fought, while we went for another lusty deep throated kiss. Our feet wobbled for a moment, when the art car set itself into motion.
Somewhere in the darkness of the empty tent, the monk had managed to hide and retrieve a jar of white lotion. He motioned me to turn around and hold onto the metal bar above the tent entrance. I leaned forward in anticipation. His fingers eagerly and hurriedly like a teenager lathered up my butt entrance with a big glob of white lotion. He placed his penis tip at the entrance. I could feel it gently resting against wrinkles of my anal sphincter.
“Here we go big boy!”
With that he pushed his penis into me all the way. He knew that I was experienced. I felt the parasympathetic drop, like a punch to my bowel and a bit of light headedness. My penis immediately engorged with more blood. Every time that my ass is filled, my penis grows. It kind of grows like when I squeeze my perineum. The penis head gets tauter. Oh, and my penis felt so sensitive and loaded from all the stimulation in my ass.
I knew that I wouldn’t get off from anal by itself without touching my penis or focused prostate stimulation. The monk wouldn’t touch my penis from behind. So, I had to endure the whole horny butt fest fully alert and ravaged by lust without getting release. His mouth sunk into my shoulder. His wet mouth started drooling. His hips bounced against my buttocks. His forearms climbed around my chest, belly, and hips to get better leverage to enter me.
While I was ravaged, yet passive, I looked ahead. The driving motion of the art car made the tent flap move. I could see outside at times. I could see topless girls moving past. I could see a dude dressed in aluminum foil do a chicken dance. I could see a girl dressed like Pippi Longstocking with fire red pig tails get a glimpse of us. I saw her hand cover her mouth. Then, she broke out in laughter. She told all her friends to take a look. They looked excited to sneak a peek of us. I stood proud naked with a hard-on.
The monk had worked me into another mental state. I was aroused like hell from all the action in my butt. His lusty fever gave me a might contact high. His hot eager fingers grabbing all over my body and squeezing my nipples made the beast come out in me. He was a sweaty mess from all the action. Even though, I only stood there taking him, my body had heated up as well. The skin was glistening.
The chubby nun from the front of the tent came in. I smiled with my lips pulled up on only one side. My brain was so fucked that I could not muster a single word or really pay attention to her. All I remember was her face – the eyes popped open and the mouth drawn in shock.
“You don’t wanna go in there! You really don’t!”
I erupted in giggling at the horror of her voice. The monk started belly loving. I could feel his belly bouncing against my back. I laughed louder, like we shared a big dirty secret.
“Oh, you walked in on them fucking. That guy looked like he could need a good fuck. He seemed tense. I hope that John fucks him in a lot of different positions to really work out his tension,” replied the sexy nun.
I smiled. I found myself recognized. I was indeed tense from the long drive out and from all the stress in the office. This fuck was definitely what the doctor had ordered.
The monk pulled out. I felt bereft, shocked like someone had pulled out my very own heart. His hands manhandled me to turn around. He pulled off the condom and came with man juice all over my belly. Instinctively, I reached for his penis to pump it harder in the throes of his orgasm. His jelly was all over my belly. I love it. I love to rub in the semen. It’s like a memorabilia that reminds me of a lover. As it dries, gets hard, pinches the body hair, I get to relish in the memories.
He got onto his knees and took my member in his mouth. My penis had been aching so much for touch. It had been so hard to avoid touching myself. And, the reward to feel his moist, soft mouth around it was so overwhelmingly delicious. My hands fingered through his hair. I felt myself going soft. I tried to lean back. Yet, the tent flaps gave no support. So I slumped forward barely holding myself up, as the monk sucked all of my senses into my dick.
I exploded in his mouth. He wrapped his fingers around my balls to carefully pull me as deep into his mouth as he could handle. I felt the splurges and pumping coming out of me and sinking down his throat. He gagged a little bit with tears in his eyes. Oh, it was pure heaven. I was so happy. We held each other in the arms to feel the afterglow, until our dicks had thoroughly limbed.
“Just stay on our art car for a little. Take some confessions. It’s really fun. Hang with us.”
When the car stopped, a line of people formed to get onto our art car. Ever since I had disappeared the tent, the temporary city in the desert had come to life with costumed people walking the streets. A girl in her mid-twenties kneeled down in front of me. She was short. She had black hair. She had a lip and nose piercing. She obviously had nipple piercings as well.
“Father, I have sinned.”
“What have you done, my child?”
“I have dry humped this cutie in the porter potties.” (The only toilets at the event are long rows of porter potties. They are actually very clean, because everyone realizes that they have to make do with them for a whole week. And, volunteers clean them.)
“What? How could you deal with the smell?”
“Some people get turned on by it.”
I thought about it. The porter potties had perfume put in them to mask the smell. It was a very chemical perfume. Though, it kind of mixed with the intensity of human smell. In a twisted way, it does arouse sexy feelings. I knew what my next adventure would be!