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