Date: Tue, 21 Mar 2006 03:55:07 EST
From: Intelli727@aol.com
Subject: All-Male Naturist Woodstock (camping)

The gathering attracts the largest group of male naturists ever assembled
at one setting. Who can count them? Possibly 20,000, maybe 30,000 men
between the ages of 18 and 45. Sponsors and vendors are overwhelmed by
the unexpected turnout. They name it "Mountainman Festival" officially,
while it's later nicknamed "Mount Man" -- I'm sure one gets the meaning.

Not only gay men arrive, straight and "curious" males attend as well. The
event transcends orientations. There is common ground to nudity among
males; somehow men love to be naked outdoors more than women. Doesn't
matter whether one is gay or straight. The festival is proof-positive.

The attraction is not derived simply from the delight at seeing thousands
of other tanned, toned naked men at one event. Leading international male
rock bands who dare participate are helicoptered to the remote location
high in the Cascades near Klamath Falls. At first it is thought to be a
risk to their careers should they be discovered, but somehow all caution
is thrown to the wind by the overwhelming drive for a once-in-a-lifetime
fuckfest.

There's more to flesh than natural attraction; an overpowering spell
drives the men to the forbidden forest. The desire to commit acts
forbidden to civilization overcomes them. What demons are behind the
urge? And what does it matter? The men willingly yield themselves to the
spirits of wind and nature without shame and without considering the
unseen forces. Submitting oneself to absolute abandon is far more
enjoyable, they realize, than maintaining the mundane of the
conventional. Sexual anarchy at its best. The forbidden fruit is devoured
without regard for regret or remorse in absolute rebellion against an
artificial world dying from its own nasty wastes and wars.

Performers on the upward mobility track must show caution, however. But
then it dawns on them the positive. Participating in the naked event of
the century may enhance their reputations, band members rationalize. It's
a win-win. The image of a nude band performing before thousands of naked
men engaged in various forms of mass orgy has a certain appeal to the
female fans as well, promoters conclude. Because they will have crossed
certain boundaries and broken long-standing taboos. Sold!

It's late August; the weather in the Northwest is dry but absent
burn-bans, fortunately. Some of the men bring tents while others only
blankets to sleep out under the stars. Vendors scramble to transport
needed supplies at the last minute; the crowd exceeds all expectations.
Everyone is pleased.

At the entrance, participants are instructed to strip and pack all
clothes except for footwear and body ornaments. The thousands do so
without reluctance; there is no hesitation but gladly they fully comply.
It is with great joy they free themselves from the encumbrance of the
artificial textile world to enter raw nature. No one can deny the
liberating sensation of nakedness in nature and the sight of others'
pleasure mirrored across fields and forests. The first skinny-dip was a
joy, but this is pure pleasurable madness. What a delight!

"This is the way it's supposed to be," comments several as they strip
bareass, embrace the ecstasy of freedom and spring spontaneously across
the field past the gate. There is undeniable exhilaration; most are
without even sneakers. The feel of grass and soil under the feet is an
added pleasure. To be totally naked outdoors is one of the great
pleasures of life. "We are one with nature," describes a guy with an
all-over tan and the looks of a bodybuilder. "Yeah, total nakedness is
being totally one with the universe," states another.

My buddy Roger and I are amused at the transition. We are avid
people-watchers, so seeing the difference between pre-gate and post-gate
is an image never forgotten. It's like a vortex into the natural world
before the dawn of civilization. The natural state is indeed preferred.

Rules and regulations are few. Public intercourse is not restricted,
indeed is encouraged. Bottom line, any guy can fuck anywhere at any time,
no problem. The #1 Rule is no clothes allowed at any time of the 5-day
event. #2 Rule -- no fighting unless wrestling for sport or
entertainment. It's like ancient Olympics where athletes performed nude,
except in this case ALL are nude, no exceptions.

The main arena is less than a mile from the entrance. The hike is worth
the distance. Towering pristine trees cast a permanent shadow over the
walk. Roger and I can already see men making love out in the open and the
small meadows along the way. There's nothing to hide. Never seen so much
jism shooting all over the place, some guys lapping it down like hounds.
Now I know where they get the term "tree-huggers." Some guys were humping
trees like they were making love to nature. Some were practicing pagans
who performed nature worship.

We arrive at the principal area. It's more exciting than unwrapping a
holiday gift. Stages and sound equipment are set up, a huge TV screen is
adjacent to accommodate the large crowd, sports areas and small alpine
lake are on the left, amenities and food booths to the right. Organizers
do well, unlike Woodstock 2000. The grub is well-prepared, delicious and
affordable. Complaints are few.

Athletic events are in progress. Eight guys are wrestling on a mat
covered with baby oil, their bodies glistening in the sun. A contestant
wins and commands his partner to roll over and assume position. No need
to prep. The winner drives his hard cock straight up the other's waiting
asshole. The small audience goes wild with applause and laughter.

Roger and I can see the instant effect. Dicks rise to attention all over
the place. Guys laugh uncontrollably, and then take cue from the
wrestlers and penetrate their partners without qualms. Talk about
freedom!

Evidently a lot of the guys take Viagra and other stimulants. It's more
common to see guys with rock-solid, dripping hardons than not. We
especially love to see cocks shoot cum when they can't hold it any
longer. Sometimes without even being touched, no hands! And guys riding
piggyback like wild animals out in a fields, except these are male
humanoids. Animals too, I guess. What the fuck's the difference between
humans and their ape cousins?

The volleyball games are interesting. Some make up their own rules, but
the most common is as follows: Winners take all. Meaning, the winning
team gets to fuck the losers right on the grass. Who wants a trophy? It's
a gorgeous orgy ancient Olympians would be proud of.

There is swimming, jogging, foot races, mud-wrestling, oil-wrestling,
tennis, volleyball, basketball, soccer, rugby, and, of course, hikes in
the woods and mountains. Some guys like to get alone to make love; most
others enjoy it out in the open. Roger and I do. Nothing like being
watched while we're getting it on like dogs. It is a totally uninhibited
experience.

As twilight sets in, the bands warm up and the crowd gathers. It's
wall-to-wall male flesh of all colors and races. Blue Thunder performs.
It's a ghost name of group that's one of the most famous in the world;
they must cover their identity in name only. You would recognize them,
I'm sure. They have 10 male dancers accompanying, better than any Las
Vegas show, because they're totally nude.

It gets wilder as night falls. The big screen shows what can't be seen
from a distance. The dancers begin to perform on one another. The crowd
goes wild. The stage guys are as good as acrobats, jumping and
leapfrogging in coordination, masturbating and shooting their cum on the
audience. Front-row guys lick it up. At the close of some numbers, they
fuck while drums keep rolling. Yeah, the dancers buttfuck each other to
the rhythm right on stage. Thing is, these guys are simply gorgeous.

Then Blue Thunder interrupts their music for a sec; their lead singer
Nick announces: "Now, all you naked motherfuckers out there, I want to
see some fuckin' going on! I mean it, I want to smell your goddamn cum
all over these fuckin' woods. Tops, mount those bottoms next to you, and
bottoms, open up those juicy assholes and let 'em slide all the way in.
And start gyrating to the music, thrusting those stiff cocks all the way
in and out. And I want to see bunches of you guys hooked up, like 10 or
100 in a string, all in one big pile of manflesh. And cumlovers, I want
to see you lap up quarts of squirts! I want to see some serious fuckin'
'round here, and I want to SMELL it and TASTE it! So, next fuckin' number
is dedicated to this fuckfest. Let's get it on and make this place SMELL
like the fuckin' HELL it's supposed to be. Hit it!"

That's all that is needed. Guys start doing things we've never seen
before, like wild animals, complete with uncontrollable growls and
groans. The crowd is already plastered drunk, so it does't take much
prompting. Guys are being tossed all over and fist-fucked while up in the
air. Cum is dried like cake all over their faces. The laughter is almost
as loud as the fuckin' sounds and drums.

Blue Thunder plays a number I never heard. The lyrics are so wild, even
Howard Stern would be embarrassed. Guys are hopping on each other like
rabbits, a lot of them doggy style. It's a fuckin' mass orgy. Almost like
a hypnotic spell, and maybe is. If so, the crowd embraces it. We are like
demon-possessed in a pool of cum. I am so wild and burning inside, I
don't care what happens next. I instruct lust to go ahead and take me
over. The smell is so intense, one can almost taste the cum. We can also
see the dancers shooting their loads again like streams of white vanilla
pudding.

All of a sudden Nick of Blue Thunder turns to the mic and asks, "Wanna
see me fuck Kyle (the lead guitarist)?"

The fans yell back, "Fuck, yeah!"

"Bet you didn't know we are lovers, did ya?" Nick yells as he turns and
smiles at Kyle.

The director orders spotlights directed onstage to Nick and Kyle and the
big screen focused. No one wants to miss this episode.

Nick sports a hardon at least 9" -- maybe more. With a huge grin, his
lead guitarist, Kyle, shoves his guitar aside to show his member off too.
Up until that time, the public is unaware of a sexual relationship
between the two. Hell, they've got girlfriends back in L.A. We think,
"Maybe this is a first, maybe not."

The rest of the band plays on as Nick steps toward Kyle and abruptly
slaps a deep wet kiss on him -- like they really love each other, and
apparently they do. The undeniably passionate caressing and nibbling all
over their bodies display evidence of prior experience.

Nick bends Kyle gently to the stage floor on his stomach. He stoops over
Kyle's body and gently licks Kyles hole with his long tongue in prep,
then spits in his hand and probes Kyle's open anal cavity some more to
lubricate. The crowd can see Nick's precum glistening in anticipation.
Suddenly, Nick mounts Kyle doggy style and shoves his shiny cock all the
way in. Kyle lets out a scream. The audience applauds, then cheers. No
one has witnessed a performance by international celebrities like this
before. No one. Live, on stage.

The sight of a famous male star fucking his best male friend on stage for
real (not simulated) is a novelty. Nick's naked athletic bubblebutt going
up and down is enough to make several guys in the audience cum where
they're standing. It's so common, no one pays much attention. Cum
everywhere. Some guys get a thrill going around licking it up like candy.

Kyle relaxes and smiles as Nick begins deep thrusting to the music. They
embrace again and kiss in an awkward position from behind while
entangled. The feeling of being locked in place with the one you love is
indescribable. Especially on stage before thousands. To see them hooked
up and actually doing it makes my mouth water. In fact, I see other guys
salivating -- dripping from their mouths in lustful anticipation.

Nick fucks Kyle for at least 15 minutes. He talks to both Kyle and the
audience as he performs. Dirty talk, the filthier the better. We love it
all. We watch in awe as Kyle's ass tightens up and the bottom rock star
shoots all over the floor, then Nick plunges his dick all the way into
Kyle and lets out a wild holler and curse as he shoots his hot juice deep
inside Kyle. Everyone sees what just took place. Cheers and applause grow
even louder -- rising to a crescendo like a collective climax. We can
hardly believe our eyes.

Then the dancers surround the two still locked in embrace. They begin
licking up Kyle's cum off the stage, then lick the cum dripping out of
his ass. Nick pulls out and allows the dancers to lick him dry. They seem
to fight over his dick and balls.

The night's not over. Different dancers appear onstage from an alleged
pagan tribe. We are all so high, we'll accept anything. The so-called
"straight" guys aren't so straight after all. The sight of good-looking
naked men is too much for them, they succumb to temptation same as us.
Naked guys are appealing to them, evidenced by involuntary arousals. Many
experience male-to-male sex for the first time and love it. They become
permenant participants, many of them converting to the preference.

The pagans are led by a wizard who comes on stage to cast a a strange
spell on the crowd. It's in a foreign language we're unable to
comprehend. Most don't believe it at first, but when they sense even a
stronger drive erupting within themselves to delve into total abandon,
they know something's up.

We all become spell-bound, like mass hypnosis. We're naked and dedicated
to total freedom. The wizard asks the crowd if they want more of the
sensation. We all yell back, "Hell, yes!"

He says, "Then open up to the natural spirits of the gods and let them
inside you. You'll never be the same after that and you'll love them
living in you. Just say these words: 'Blibbeio Micha Metecha.' 'Come into
me, o natural ones, and make me yours. I dedicate my life to nature and
its forces.'"

We obligingly repeat this ritual. All of a sudden we feel the natural
spirits inhabit us. We are possessed, and willingly so. After that, it is
pure mayhem, as guys fuck involuntarily all over the place, fall on the
ground in writhing trances, salivate out their mouths, and dance naked
with hands raised as if worshipping some unknown god. We love the feeling
inside, that burning sensation that drives us into reckless abandon.

The wizard then asks who among us would like to be married. Several
couples respond, including Roger and I. We step forward. He performs the
pagan marriage ritual between males right there, and then asks the
couples to consummate their relationship for everyone to see. I happily
fuck Roger while standing before the wizard and thousands of witnesses.
We are sealed as one.

Several dozen other couples gladly comply and fuck each other publicly, a
confirmation of their vows. It's a beautiful sight. They are married,
man-to-man.

We are never the same again after the event. The spirits will forever
inhabit us. Roger and I have difficulty wearing clothes. It's as if it's
against our new natures. We feel nakedness is much preferred and we must
continue in that condition as often as possible. It's like a sacred vow.

We also love being married and allowing the spirits within to command us.
Some call it possession. I call it the natural flow. I love nakedness and
sexual freedom more than anything else on earth. If it's wrong, so be it.

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If interest, write to Intelli727@aol.com
Derek Hammil