Saturday, March 22, 2008

Among the rambling wood.

With spring in the air, I'm reminded of an annual gathering held in a southern US state that I used to attend regularly. It's a sensual, relaxed, clothing-optional camping retreat of sorts, where a variety of sex-positive workshops would often be held in addition to whatever else was going on. It was family-friendly, but that doesn't mean that the grown-ups didn't have their fun too.

Like the time Diva and a BBW friend took turns sucking my cock in an old Ford van. Like the time I shared Diva with a young stud in one of the unused cabins, giving him his first threesome. An unused cabin was also the scene for an excellent blowjob I received from a nymphomaniac schoolteacher, and when a friend walked in to have a conversation with me, she smiled as she watched schoolteacher casually blow me. Then there was the lithe, amazing creature who escaped the heat with me in a basement, where she sucked my cock nicely before we would slip to a friend's space to fuck doggystyle on the rough floor.

I met the Grrl during one of these gatherings. There was only one proper house-like building on site, and I fucked the Grrl there as she bent over a stairway railing, the echoes of her cries resounding in the empty halls below. Everyone else was dancing around a distant fire and we had the entire building to ourselves. She and I bedded a darling tart who's name I never knew in the "Presidential suite" of that house.

Then, of course, there was the year of the orgy. We all got in quite a bit of trouble over that one, and the regime that controlled the event slapped our collective wrists and banned sex-positive happenings for a few years. Oopsie. But then came their own political upheaval, and later a full-out bondage party was held in the main hall at the site. Go figure.

That's where I found Tari again. I had known her when I lived in New England, and she was a good friend with whom I had flirted often. It been a few years since we had seen each other, and the reunion was excellent. She had more tattoos now, and as she would show me, some new piercings, since I had seen her last.

"Wanna see my new piercing?" she asked me excitedly, bouncing and girlygiggly. We were barefoot on pine needles as she walked me toward a nearby bench and sat down. Lifting her feet to the bench, her orange sarong opened like a curtain as she parted her legs with all the casual nature of someone asking for the time of day. Her smile was wide and her dark eyes sparkling as I squatted down before her, enjoying the shimmer of the ring decorating her labia. Tari's pussy was exquisite. Her inner labia was a tight, russet seam with the faintest of curves as it curled upward to the completely shaven mound above.

"It's gorgeous," I replied with a smile. It was. The jewellery was nice too.

There was a bondage playparty scheduled for that evening. When we knew each other in New England, I had never played with Tari, and I didn't want to pass up on this opportunity. She smirked and nodded when I asked her if she'd be interested. Later, in a crowded hall full of other players and their voyeurs, I had Tari bent over a long wooden dining table as I applied clothespins to her thighs and spanked her beautiful, boyish little ass. A female Top had strolled by with her male sub, asking politely if they could share the table. She set her pet directly across from Tari, and she and I smiled to one another as we had our partners hold their outstretched hands as they each received their spankings.

The next day, we saw one another again while seperately wandering among the event's vendor tents. Talking, catching up, strolling together, we eventually found ourselves near the outskirts of the camp, where the foliage was heavier and dense with bracken. Smirking to one another, we climbed over a series of fallen trees and through the brush until we found a measure of privacy.

She grasped for my thickening cock, squeezing it under my khaki hiking shorts, as I held that boyish bubble butt of hers while we embraced. On a lithe woman, I really like boyish butts. The wind swayed the pine and birch trees around us as we enjoyed each other casually. I was eventually tempted to bend her over a nearby stump, but she had other ideas.

As I leaned against a fallen tree, she squatted before me and undid the buttons on my shorts. I remember biting my lower lip as I ran fingers through her short punky hair, and the warmth of her mouth when she slurped me in. As she started bobbing her head before me, she turned her head from side to side, circling her mouth clockwise-then-counterclockwise around my shaft while she sucked. Her brief moans, the tightening of her mouth, the way she held my ass and forced me forward all told me how she was enjoying herself. By the time her hand was pumping me at the base of my cock, I was straining. When I finally let loose, filling her wet mouth with a torrent of my cum, she was rapidly jilling herself.

This happened years ago, long before Shayne, long before the Grrl, long before my ex-wife. Sometimes I wonder how Tari's doing, and feel certain that she's likely still the punky, funky, cool woman she's always been.

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