Carnival of Sluts My Visit to Iron Henge
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Carnival Of Sluts: My Visit To Iron Henge free porn video
[When I found that a journalist friend of mine had been to report on Iron Henge I was naturally anxious to read the story. After some persuasion she sent me the story spiked by her editor, followed a few weeks later by the (much longer) 'original draft'. Then when I mentioned that Lush was doing a fall equinox competition she sent me the 'extended edition' that follows. For obvious reasons, all names have been changed.]
Chances are the Lush people have never heard of Iron Henge. It isn't exactly the type of event the New York Times reports on. The group behind Iron Henge is a collective of Burners who found Burning Man too restrictive for their needs. They call themselves Carnival of Sluts.
It turns out that Carnival of Sluts isn't the sort of thing Gary puts into print either. His response to my (heavily expurgated) copy was (and I quote) "Guznurk" followed by a bout of violent coughing. Later that afternoon Gary sent an email to the effect that this years trip to the Nevada desert was mine. What his response would have been had he seen the full story bellow is another matter.
Its the same story every year. The boys return to the office and spend the next two weeks telling us every detail of their visit to Burning Man. For three years I listened to the stories without a jealous word. Until last year I had finally had enough and told Gary, my editor that it was past time for a female perspective on a counterculture festival.
Which is how I came to be in a warehouse near San Francisco watching Don and Janice welding used bed frames into what they call a 'sarsen', basically two steel pillars joined into an arch by a cross-piece.
Just like the boys in the office, Don and Janice are talking about Burning Man which finished three weeks earlier. The sarsen is part of a set of five being built for another festival, a very different one.
Like the ancient version at Stonehenge, the steel sarsen is an impressive 13 feet high. Unlike the ancient version (as far as we know) it is fitted with eye bolts for attachment of a suspension harness. At the other end of the workshop, another sarsen is being prepared. The center of this one is filled by two sheets of shiny black latex and Julie who is sandwiched between them. Only Julie's head is visible, poking out through the only hole in the rubber.
"Vacuum test!" a voice shouts out and the latex is immediately pulled taut across Julie's body clinging to the curves of her breasts and buttocks. Julie closes her eyes and gives a contented sigh.
In the parking lot, more basic needs are being addressed. Tents and porta-potties are being loaded onto a truck. A van has just returned from a trip to Costco filled with foodstuffs. Another van is being loaded with audio equipment. For a brief moment everything seems normal. Then Gina comes to find me to take me to the office where I am to interview Zak, one of the founders of Iron Henge.
Gina is naked apart from her pony tail. Not a ponytail in her hair, a real tail over a foot long with no visible means of support. Not yet twenty, Gina is one of the youngest people involved in the 'build party'.
When I arrive, Zak is annoyed that someone invited a journalist and doubly annoyed that I was given a tour of the workshop before he found out I am here. After a brief discussion he offers to let me stay provided I do not to identify anyone by name, the location of the event or the workshop. I agree and we talk for awhile about the emergence of the 'Hengers' from the Bay area swinger community.
For the first few years, the event had a different theme each year. Then as the sets became more elaborate it was decided to pick one theme and stick with that rather than building a whole new set with a different theme every year. This allowed parts of the set that were being reused to be kept in a barn near the site and freed up time for 'other' forms of innovation.
Before I can pepper him with obvious questions about the type of people who participate and what brings them together a coach suddenly appears outside. "Too Early!" Zak shouts and rushes off to address the crisis.
The arrival of the coach throws everything into confusion. The plan was to cover the preparations, not the event itself. But now my story is starting to board the bus. I make a snap decision which I begin to regret the moment the coach leaves the parking lot.
*
Gina sits next to me on the bus. She is still naked though the tail has disappeared. She is in her first year at college and this is her second 'Henge'. She is one of the few second generation Hengers, her parents are already at the site as part of the 'Con' (construction) team. She introduces me to the couple sitting opposite, like most people on the bus, they both work in the high tech industries of silicon valley. Dana is an engineer, her husband George is in sales. This is their first Henge since becoming parents five years ago. Their daughter isn't with them of course, Iron Henge is a strictly 18+ event. "Grandparents," Dana explains with a sigh of relief.
Unlike Burning Man with the vast canvas of the Nevada Desert to play on, the Henge site can only hold a few hundred people and every year is sold out long in advance. George launches into an explanation of the waiting list which has stretched to over three years for couples and there is even a waiting list for single women. Single men need not apply. In his view, high demand is a good problem to have but the median age of the participants is increasing year on year.
Meanwhile Dana has slipped away and is talking to a couple three rows back who later introduce themselves as Lisa and Tim. Tim gives up his seat to Dana and joins George to discuss the aging demographics of the Henge while their wives make out. Tim thinks that they should find a larger space and expand the event while George wants to start a second or third event at the same site. Both agree that the new tickets should be reserved for younger people.
After a while Lisa interrupts Tim who is sent back down the bus to make out with Dana while Lisa has fun with George. Like Gina, Lisa has shed her clothes and George takes full advantage. I turn away to give them privacy but Gina does not. She watches with evident vicarious delight as George slides a hand between the legs of the other man's wife. "Some people can't wait," she giggles.
I ask Gina about her tail and discover that it is indeed attached in the manner I suspected. Gina pulls a long, thin box from her pack and shows me the contents. Inside there is a smooth metal butt plug with a long mane of long black hair attached. Gina's own design. She is particularly proud of the fact that the plug has an offset so that the hair emerges above the anus rather than from it as is the case with "cheap commercial" plugs.
Gina smiles at my nervous compliments. Somewhat to my relief, it is the only extra she brought with her and it is already spoken for. But she has a 'beginner' model for me back at the workshop. I politely express my appreciation and ask myself what I have let myself in for.
*
It is late afternoon by the time the coach arrives at the drop-off point and there is a long walk through the woods to get to the site itself. The con team has been busy for over a week erecting last year's set and installing concrete footings for the new additions. An outer ring of thirty steel posts supports a ring of lintels I am told is over a hundred feet across. Inside the ring people are at work unpacking boxes and moving things into position.
There is a subtle division of the sexes. Most of the women are occupied at the center of the circle while the men work at the edge. Sparks fly as the men smooth rough edges with a grinder. The weather is still warm and most of the women are naked. The men wear long sleeved shirts, thick leather gloves and aprons to protect themselves against the sparks. I decide to join the men, if only to give myself an excuse to remain clothed a little longer.
Adam puts down his oxy-acetylene torch as I approach and hands me a set of goggles. He asks if I have used a torch before and when I say no, asks if I would like to try. After a brief tutorial I am set loose cutting shapes and grinding the edges. At first Adam stands behind me to guide my hand. Then he leaves me to pound metal on the anvil, a job that gives him the excuse to strip off his apron, shirt and gloves and display his muscular torso.
Five years ago, Adam worked on Wall Street as a trader. He had made good money but his marriage had begun to fall apart under the constant strain. When one of his juniors showed up in a Brioni suit that cost six months salary for a Wal-Mart sales assistant, Adam realized he had had enough. He left Sally, his wife and their central park apartment to find himself out West.
He eventually met Zak who was looking for someone to make him a copy of Stonehenge in iron. Adam didn't know how to weld or cut metal but he had time to learn and that was enough. He had started with the outer circle and gradually worked his way around clockwise. Then he made his way round again, correcting his mistakes.By the time he was finished he was established in the Bay area art scene and Sally had followed him to the West Coast having tired of the Big Apple as well.
A bell rings and we are called to the center of the circle where food and drink has been laid out. It reminds me of the church outings of my childhood. The are biscuits and brownies and bowls of fruit and tea served in paper cups. It is all so ordinary and familiar. Except for the fact that most people aren't wearing clothes.
Adam introduces me to Sally, his 'once and future wife'. Sally replies that she is done with marriage and Adam blew his chance but says this with obvious affection. When he is gone she asks after my own partner and is surprised to find I am alone. "Oh a unicorn!" she exclaims, then suddenly apologizes with a nervous giggle. "Guess I'm out then, but don't hold it against Adam."
A unicorn is a single female who swings with married couples. Some consider the term mildly pejorative but in any event the swinger community always has far more married couples looking for another female to join them in a threesome than singles females looking to party. Hence the term 'unicorn'. I want to explain that I am not a unicorn, I am just a straight single female. But I am starting to wonder if that is really true. Maybe its the sight of so much naked flesh. Maybe its the fact I haven't had a proper forceful banging in too many months. But I am starting to get quite turned on by all the activities and the people around me and not only the men.
Zak comes past looking for volunteers to erect tents. Sally volunteers for both of us and we are pressed into the task of assembling poles as part of a highly efficient tent assembly line. The first pair unpacks the tent from its bag and separates the parts, the second arranges the groundsheet in its marked position. The third pair (us) then assemble the frame inside the tent while the fourth hammers home the stakes for the guy ropes. The process is swift and it takes only half an hour to erect a neat circle of ten tents to one side of the outer ring. Another team is at work on the other side but we have eight to their six and finish first.
Sally and I watch the men beating tent posts into the ground with mallets. "Which one?" I ask, then giggle at my daring to ask such a question. "Why not both?" Sally replies, "Both at once."
The first tent on each side acts as a bag check. I exchange my handbag for a numbered rubber wristband. Then realizing that everyone else is handing over their clothes as well, I decide it is time to do as the Romans do.
This is not my first time nude in public. I have been to Baker beach with friends. But daring though I had imagined it at the time, shedding my clothes on the beach meant no more than an invitation to be seen. Shedding my clothes here means I am preparing to be fucked.
Gina bounds over to me and gives me a naked hug. She is wearing her ponytail again. I return the hug and we are kissing. For one mad instant I know that I want to make love to this girl who is ten years younger than me, press her down on the cool grass..
"No distractions!" a voice barks, chastising us for the 'Public Display of Affection' before the fires have been lit, the official signal for the start. The party can't start until the Con and Build teams can join in the fun.
*
Fortunately, there is not long to wait. There is the briefest of opening ceremonies: Zak thanks everyone who has contributed to making the event possible and pulls a lever causing flames to erupt from the outer circle.
"Lets do what we really came here for." Zak shouts into the microphone to cheers. A thumping beat erupts from the PA and two dancers bump and grind against the twin poles supporting the two center sarsens.
Rather than making a crush for the stage, the audience spreads out across the ring. Zak told me that there would be five hundred people but it looks like more. Only its not really an audience, they are not passive spectators, they are participants.
Instead of a dance floor, the center of the circle is covered by a foam mat thirty feet across. Condoms, packet of lube and pieces of foam for use as cushions are scattered across the surface. People are fucking all around me. One woman is being spit roasted by two men. George and Tim watch as Dana and Lisa make a 69. The mat has become crowded but Gina pulls me over to a box of the type construction workers use to keep their tools. Three men are using it as a seat to watch the mat action but they quickly make way for us.
Gina pins me to the top of the box, pressing her body against mine. The circle of cocks surrounding us spring to attention. We kiss and my head hits the hard metal surface of the box with a thunk. Without needing to ask, a circle of foam is slipped under my head for a pillow.
The next hour is a confusion of cocks, pussy and ass. Gina takes the lead rubbing her slit up against mine, making love to me almost like a man. Then she turns round and we feast on the juices between each other's legs. Gina's tail brushes against my face so I move it aside, drawing a moan of pleasure from its owner.
Anal play has never interested me before, my only experience a brief, embarrassing and painful experiment with a soon to be ex boyfriend. But Gina's hands grip me tighter with every movement of the plug and she gives a loud moan when I pull gently on the plug with my tongue on her clit. All the inhibitions that have held me back in the past have dissolved: I am making love to another woman and she is making love to me.
I feel Gina's fingernails dig hard into my buttocks and she rears up as if pulled by an unseen hand. My hands lose their grip and flail wildly until they find another grip. Each hand finds a cock and a new game begins. I watch as a cock slides into Gina inches above my face, his balls slapping my face with each thrust.
Gina drives a finger into my ass as I come in the longest, loudest orgasm of my life so far.
I recover to find that we are lying side by side, surrounded by a sea of cocks. There are women there as well, but they hang back. The box is just wide enough for two. Cock after cock enters and fills me. I lose count of the number, the different sizes shapes and colors. None lasts very long, there seems to be an unspoken rule that nobody is to be too long at his business. A few come, most do not, perhaps saving their seed for later or perhaps having spent it already elsewhere.
At last I have had enough and give up my place to one of the women who is helped onto the box by her partner who spreads her legs to offer her to the crowd. I suddenly realize that I am hungry and go in search of something to eat.
There are tables with food at the perimeter of the circle. I fill a plate and look for somewhere to sit. Some of the men smile and wave as I pass, I wonder if they were among my lovers or just being friendly. Sally is lying on her front as one of the tent peg men we saw earlier slides slowly into her ass. I wave and shout after her 'Only one?' but she is too busy to notice me.
A short while later I spot the other tent peg man. I approach, wrap my arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, "Lets fuck!" He obliges me and I kneel to take his prick in my mouth, feeling it stiffen beneath my tongue then crouch on all fours to feel him sliding deliciously into my pussy from behind. The deed done, he thanks me and disappears off again into the sprawling mass of arms, legs and bodies.
I head off to the showers to rinse off the accumulated sweat. I return feeling refreshed but the pent up desire from two months without sex is satisfied for the moment. I wander round taking in the sights and sounds. The vacuum bed built into the central sarsen is in use and I wonder what it would be like to be held in place immobile like that but the line is long.
As I walk round, I realize that I am underdressed in this sea of naked bodies. Most of the women and quite a few of the men wear jewelry on their bodies that glints and sparkles in the torchlight. Pierced nipples are common and gold gleams from many slits. Gold chains are worn round the waist like a belt. A few wear body paint. As the night grows cooler some people are wearing cloaks or shawls to keep warm.
I spot Dana kneeling in front of George and another man to take both pricks in her mouth at once. I stop to watch the scene unfold as Dana is spit roasted between the two men, one in her pussy, the other in her mouth. The trio briefly attempts a double penetration but the second man's prick isn't up to the task.
As I am watching, I feel a hand curl around my waist. I look up in surprise to see Sally in a full length cloak. "Have you tried that yet?" she asks and wraps me inside the cloak to warm me. I shake my head with a laugh.
We find a place near one of the fires to compare our adventures. Sally curls around me, hugging me tight to her body. She laughs as I mention seeing her with the tent peg guy and suggests that I try him as well to 'complete the set'. I giggle and admit that I am an anal virgin as I don't like pain. Sally protests that there should only be pleasure, not pain. Eventually, after much argument, we set off together in search of Adam.
Sally's once and future husband is sitting on top of the outer ring, watching the festival within. He is the only person still wearing clothes. After some persuasion, Adam climbs down to join us.
"Having fun ladies," Adam asks.
"Plenty," Sally replies, "have you done anything apart from watch?"
"Feels best if someone is watching," Adam replies.
"Quite right!" a voice boomed out above us, "My turn now!" We look up to see Zak standing in the spot Adam has just vacated. Adam looks set to argue but realizes that its no use.
Sally leads us to a quiet spot and lies down on the grass, bidding me lie down next to her. She parts my legs with her hands offering me to her not-yet husband.
I realize that of all the cocks that have entered me today, this is the first one that I can put a name to. He runs his fingers through my hair as I unbutton his shirt and release the erect member from his jeans. His hands move sensuously over my breasts, picking out the nipples with thumb and forefinger making me gasp.
The experience is deliciously wanton. I am being offered as a toy a plaything to be used. Coming to Iron Henge has taught me that I enjoy testing my limits and my limits are far wider than I ever imagined.
Sally holds me in her arms and gives Adam a constant stream of encouragement. "She is so pretty, I chose her specially for you my love. I want to see you fuck her. I want to see your thick cock slide inside her and make her squeal. She wants to be taken. She is yours to use, I chose her for you, I want to see her fucked.'
Tired and sore though I am, Sally's words and Adam's fingers are having an effect. He buries his tongue between my thighs, kissing and licking the length of my slit. Sally pulls lube from the pocket of her cloak and I am made slippery front and back. Sally guides her man inside me, rubbing my clit and ass with her fingers as his shaft gathers speed.
"Fuck her, fuck her hard", Sally continues, "I found her for you, she is young and tight. She wants to know what it feels like to be fucked in the ass by a man. A dozen men took her tonight in her cunt. No man has ever been in her ass. My fingers are in her ass, stretching her, making her ready for your cock. You will be her first. Take her in her ass."
My legs are raised higher and Sally guides the tip of Adam's cock to press against my ass. Adam looks me in the eyes and I feel myself being slowly stretched and Sally's fingers dancing over my clit. I try to separate the experiences in my mind, trying to brace myself against the sudden shock and pain that never comes.
"Deeper, deeper, fuck her ass," Sally implores, her fingers dancing over my clit. Adam is gasping replies now with each thrust, "Fuck! Fuck! Fucking her ass! Fucking her!" The thrust start slow and gentle becoming faster and deeper as I loosen up. I try to join in the conversation but all I can manage is to shriek with each thrust till I reach my climax.
*
Epilog
This morning as I was finishing the full account of my trip to Iron Henge, I received a present from Gina in the post and a note to say that she hopes I will wear it this year. But that as they say, is another tail.
Chances are the Lush people have never heard of Iron Henge. It isn't exactly the type of event the New York Times reports on. The group behind Iron Henge is a collective of Burners who found Burning Man too restrictive for their needs. They call themselves Carnival of Sluts.
It turns out that Carnival of Sluts isn't the sort of thing Gary puts into print either. His response to my (heavily expurgated) copy was (and I quote) "Guznurk" followed by a bout of violent coughing. Later that afternoon Gary sent an email to the effect that this years trip to the Nevada desert was mine. What his response would have been had he seen the full story bellow is another matter.
Its the same story every year. The boys return to the office and spend the next two weeks telling us every detail of their visit to Burning Man. For three years I listened to the stories without a jealous word. Until last year I had finally had enough and told Gary, my editor that it was past time for a female perspective on a counterculture festival.
Which is how I came to be in a warehouse near San Francisco watching Don and Janice welding used bed frames into what they call a 'sarsen', basically two steel pillars joined into an arch by a cross-piece.
Just like the boys in the office, Don and Janice are talking about Burning Man which finished three weeks earlier. The sarsen is part of a set of five being built for another festival, a very different one.
Like the ancient version at Stonehenge, the steel sarsen is an impressive 13 feet high. Unlike the ancient version (as far as we know) it is fitted with eye bolts for attachment of a suspension harness. At the other end of the workshop, another sarsen is being prepared. The center of this one is filled by two sheets of shiny black latex and Julie who is sandwiched between them. Only Julie's head is visible, poking out through the only hole in the rubber.
"Vacuum test!" a voice shouts out and the latex is immediately pulled taut across Julie's body clinging to the curves of her breasts and buttocks. Julie closes her eyes and gives a contented sigh.
In the parking lot, more basic needs are being addressed. Tents and porta-potties are being loaded onto a truck. A van has just returned from a trip to Costco filled with foodstuffs. Another van is being loaded with audio equipment. For a brief moment everything seems normal. Then Gina comes to find me to take me to the office where I am to interview Zak, one of the founders of Iron Henge.
Gina is naked apart from her pony tail. Not a ponytail in her hair, a real tail over a foot long with no visible means of support. Not yet twenty, Gina is one of the youngest people involved in the 'build party'.
When I arrive, Zak is annoyed that someone invited a journalist and doubly annoyed that I was given a tour of the workshop before he found out I am here. After a brief discussion he offers to let me stay provided I do not to identify anyone by name, the location of the event or the workshop. I agree and we talk for awhile about the emergence of the 'Hengers' from the Bay area swinger community.
For the first few years, the event had a different theme each year. Then as the sets became more elaborate it was decided to pick one theme and stick with that rather than building a whole new set with a different theme every year. This allowed parts of the set that were being reused to be kept in a barn near the site and freed up time for 'other' forms of innovation.
Before I can pepper him with obvious questions about the type of people who participate and what brings them together a coach suddenly appears outside. "Too Early!" Zak shouts and rushes off to address the crisis.
The arrival of the coach throws everything into confusion. The plan was to cover the preparations, not the event itself. But now my story is starting to board the bus. I make a snap decision which I begin to regret the moment the coach leaves the parking lot.
*
Gina sits next to me on the bus. She is still naked though the tail has disappeared. She is in her first year at college and this is her second 'Henge'. She is one of the few second generation Hengers, her parents are already at the site as part of the 'Con' (construction) team. She introduces me to the couple sitting opposite, like most people on the bus, they both work in the high tech industries of silicon valley. Dana is an engineer, her husband George is in sales. This is their first Henge since becoming parents five years ago. Their daughter isn't with them of course, Iron Henge is a strictly 18+ event. "Grandparents," Dana explains with a sigh of relief.
Unlike Burning Man with the vast canvas of the Nevada Desert to play on, the Henge site can only hold a few hundred people and every year is sold out long in advance. George launches into an explanation of the waiting list which has stretched to over three years for couples and there is even a waiting list for single women. Single men need not apply. In his view, high demand is a good problem to have but the median age of the participants is increasing year on year.
Meanwhile Dana has slipped away and is talking to a couple three rows back who later introduce themselves as Lisa and Tim. Tim gives up his seat to Dana and joins George to discuss the aging demographics of the Henge while their wives make out. Tim thinks that they should find a larger space and expand the event while George wants to start a second or third event at the same site. Both agree that the new tickets should be reserved for younger people.
After a while Lisa interrupts Tim who is sent back down the bus to make out with Dana while Lisa has fun with George. Like Gina, Lisa has shed her clothes and George takes full advantage. I turn away to give them privacy but Gina does not. She watches with evident vicarious delight as George slides a hand between the legs of the other man's wife. "Some people can't wait," she giggles.
I ask Gina about her tail and discover that it is indeed attached in the manner I suspected. Gina pulls a long, thin box from her pack and shows me the contents. Inside there is a smooth metal butt plug with a long mane of long black hair attached. Gina's own design. She is particularly proud of the fact that the plug has an offset so that the hair emerges above the anus rather than from it as is the case with "cheap commercial" plugs.
Gina smiles at my nervous compliments. Somewhat to my relief, it is the only extra she brought with her and it is already spoken for. But she has a 'beginner' model for me back at the workshop. I politely express my appreciation and ask myself what I have let myself in for.
*
It is late afternoon by the time the coach arrives at the drop-off point and there is a long walk through the woods to get to the site itself. The con team has been busy for over a week erecting last year's set and installing concrete footings for the new additions. An outer ring of thirty steel posts supports a ring of lintels I am told is over a hundred feet across. Inside the ring people are at work unpacking boxes and moving things into position.
There is a subtle division of the sexes. Most of the women are occupied at the center of the circle while the men work at the edge. Sparks fly as the men smooth rough edges with a grinder. The weather is still warm and most of the women are naked. The men wear long sleeved shirts, thick leather gloves and aprons to protect themselves against the sparks. I decide to join the men, if only to give myself an excuse to remain clothed a little longer.
Adam puts down his oxy-acetylene torch as I approach and hands me a set of goggles. He asks if I have used a torch before and when I say no, asks if I would like to try. After a brief tutorial I am set loose cutting shapes and grinding the edges. At first Adam stands behind me to guide my hand. Then he leaves me to pound metal on the anvil, a job that gives him the excuse to strip off his apron, shirt and gloves and display his muscular torso.
Five years ago, Adam worked on Wall Street as a trader. He had made good money but his marriage had begun to fall apart under the constant strain. When one of his juniors showed up in a Brioni suit that cost six months salary for a Wal-Mart sales assistant, Adam realized he had had enough. He left Sally, his wife and their central park apartment to find himself out West.
He eventually met Zak who was looking for someone to make him a copy of Stonehenge in iron. Adam didn't know how to weld or cut metal but he had time to learn and that was enough. He had started with the outer circle and gradually worked his way around clockwise. Then he made his way round again, correcting his mistakes.By the time he was finished he was established in the Bay area art scene and Sally had followed him to the West Coast having tired of the Big Apple as well.
A bell rings and we are called to the center of the circle where food and drink has been laid out. It reminds me of the church outings of my childhood. The are biscuits and brownies and bowls of fruit and tea served in paper cups. It is all so ordinary and familiar. Except for the fact that most people aren't wearing clothes.
Adam introduces me to Sally, his 'once and future wife'. Sally replies that she is done with marriage and Adam blew his chance but says this with obvious affection. When he is gone she asks after my own partner and is surprised to find I am alone. "Oh a unicorn!" she exclaims, then suddenly apologizes with a nervous giggle. "Guess I'm out then, but don't hold it against Adam."
A unicorn is a single female who swings with married couples. Some consider the term mildly pejorative but in any event the swinger community always has far more married couples looking for another female to join them in a threesome than singles females looking to party. Hence the term 'unicorn'. I want to explain that I am not a unicorn, I am just a straight single female. But I am starting to wonder if that is really true. Maybe its the sight of so much naked flesh. Maybe its the fact I haven't had a proper forceful banging in too many months. But I am starting to get quite turned on by all the activities and the people around me and not only the men.
Zak comes past looking for volunteers to erect tents. Sally volunteers for both of us and we are pressed into the task of assembling poles as part of a highly efficient tent assembly line. The first pair unpacks the tent from its bag and separates the parts, the second arranges the groundsheet in its marked position. The third pair (us) then assemble the frame inside the tent while the fourth hammers home the stakes for the guy ropes. The process is swift and it takes only half an hour to erect a neat circle of ten tents to one side of the outer ring. Another team is at work on the other side but we have eight to their six and finish first.
Sally and I watch the men beating tent posts into the ground with mallets. "Which one?" I ask, then giggle at my daring to ask such a question. "Why not both?" Sally replies, "Both at once."
The first tent on each side acts as a bag check. I exchange my handbag for a numbered rubber wristband. Then realizing that everyone else is handing over their clothes as well, I decide it is time to do as the Romans do.
This is not my first time nude in public. I have been to Baker beach with friends. But daring though I had imagined it at the time, shedding my clothes on the beach meant no more than an invitation to be seen. Shedding my clothes here means I am preparing to be fucked.
Gina bounds over to me and gives me a naked hug. She is wearing her ponytail again. I return the hug and we are kissing. For one mad instant I know that I want to make love to this girl who is ten years younger than me, press her down on the cool grass..
"No distractions!" a voice barks, chastising us for the 'Public Display of Affection' before the fires have been lit, the official signal for the start. The party can't start until the Con and Build teams can join in the fun.
*
Fortunately, there is not long to wait. There is the briefest of opening ceremonies: Zak thanks everyone who has contributed to making the event possible and pulls a lever causing flames to erupt from the outer circle.
"Lets do what we really came here for." Zak shouts into the microphone to cheers. A thumping beat erupts from the PA and two dancers bump and grind against the twin poles supporting the two center sarsens.
Rather than making a crush for the stage, the audience spreads out across the ring. Zak told me that there would be five hundred people but it looks like more. Only its not really an audience, they are not passive spectators, they are participants.
Instead of a dance floor, the center of the circle is covered by a foam mat thirty feet across. Condoms, packet of lube and pieces of foam for use as cushions are scattered across the surface. People are fucking all around me. One woman is being spit roasted by two men. George and Tim watch as Dana and Lisa make a 69. The mat has become crowded but Gina pulls me over to a box of the type construction workers use to keep their tools. Three men are using it as a seat to watch the mat action but they quickly make way for us.
Gina pins me to the top of the box, pressing her body against mine. The circle of cocks surrounding us spring to attention. We kiss and my head hits the hard metal surface of the box with a thunk. Without needing to ask, a circle of foam is slipped under my head for a pillow.
The next hour is a confusion of cocks, pussy and ass. Gina takes the lead rubbing her slit up against mine, making love to me almost like a man. Then she turns round and we feast on the juices between each other's legs. Gina's tail brushes against my face so I move it aside, drawing a moan of pleasure from its owner.
Anal play has never interested me before, my only experience a brief, embarrassing and painful experiment with a soon to be ex boyfriend. But Gina's hands grip me tighter with every movement of the plug and she gives a loud moan when I pull gently on the plug with my tongue on her clit. All the inhibitions that have held me back in the past have dissolved: I am making love to another woman and she is making love to me.
I feel Gina's fingernails dig hard into my buttocks and she rears up as if pulled by an unseen hand. My hands lose their grip and flail wildly until they find another grip. Each hand finds a cock and a new game begins. I watch as a cock slides into Gina inches above my face, his balls slapping my face with each thrust.
Gina drives a finger into my ass as I come in the longest, loudest orgasm of my life so far.
I recover to find that we are lying side by side, surrounded by a sea of cocks. There are women there as well, but they hang back. The box is just wide enough for two. Cock after cock enters and fills me. I lose count of the number, the different sizes shapes and colors. None lasts very long, there seems to be an unspoken rule that nobody is to be too long at his business. A few come, most do not, perhaps saving their seed for later or perhaps having spent it already elsewhere.
At last I have had enough and give up my place to one of the women who is helped onto the box by her partner who spreads her legs to offer her to the crowd. I suddenly realize that I am hungry and go in search of something to eat.
There are tables with food at the perimeter of the circle. I fill a plate and look for somewhere to sit. Some of the men smile and wave as I pass, I wonder if they were among my lovers or just being friendly. Sally is lying on her front as one of the tent peg men we saw earlier slides slowly into her ass. I wave and shout after her 'Only one?' but she is too busy to notice me.
A short while later I spot the other tent peg man. I approach, wrap my arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, "Lets fuck!" He obliges me and I kneel to take his prick in my mouth, feeling it stiffen beneath my tongue then crouch on all fours to feel him sliding deliciously into my pussy from behind. The deed done, he thanks me and disappears off again into the sprawling mass of arms, legs and bodies.
I head off to the showers to rinse off the accumulated sweat. I return feeling refreshed but the pent up desire from two months without sex is satisfied for the moment. I wander round taking in the sights and sounds. The vacuum bed built into the central sarsen is in use and I wonder what it would be like to be held in place immobile like that but the line is long.
As I walk round, I realize that I am underdressed in this sea of naked bodies. Most of the women and quite a few of the men wear jewelry on their bodies that glints and sparkles in the torchlight. Pierced nipples are common and gold gleams from many slits. Gold chains are worn round the waist like a belt. A few wear body paint. As the night grows cooler some people are wearing cloaks or shawls to keep warm.
I spot Dana kneeling in front of George and another man to take both pricks in her mouth at once. I stop to watch the scene unfold as Dana is spit roasted between the two men, one in her pussy, the other in her mouth. The trio briefly attempts a double penetration but the second man's prick isn't up to the task.
As I am watching, I feel a hand curl around my waist. I look up in surprise to see Sally in a full length cloak. "Have you tried that yet?" she asks and wraps me inside the cloak to warm me. I shake my head with a laugh.
We find a place near one of the fires to compare our adventures. Sally curls around me, hugging me tight to her body. She laughs as I mention seeing her with the tent peg guy and suggests that I try him as well to 'complete the set'. I giggle and admit that I am an anal virgin as I don't like pain. Sally protests that there should only be pleasure, not pain. Eventually, after much argument, we set off together in search of Adam.
Sally's once and future husband is sitting on top of the outer ring, watching the festival within. He is the only person still wearing clothes. After some persuasion, Adam climbs down to join us.
"Having fun ladies," Adam asks.
"Plenty," Sally replies, "have you done anything apart from watch?"
"Feels best if someone is watching," Adam replies.
"Quite right!" a voice boomed out above us, "My turn now!" We look up to see Zak standing in the spot Adam has just vacated. Adam looks set to argue but realizes that its no use.
Sally leads us to a quiet spot and lies down on the grass, bidding me lie down next to her. She parts my legs with her hands offering me to her not-yet husband.
I realize that of all the cocks that have entered me today, this is the first one that I can put a name to. He runs his fingers through my hair as I unbutton his shirt and release the erect member from his jeans. His hands move sensuously over my breasts, picking out the nipples with thumb and forefinger making me gasp.
The experience is deliciously wanton. I am being offered as a toy a plaything to be used. Coming to Iron Henge has taught me that I enjoy testing my limits and my limits are far wider than I ever imagined.
Sally holds me in her arms and gives Adam a constant stream of encouragement. "She is so pretty, I chose her specially for you my love. I want to see you fuck her. I want to see your thick cock slide inside her and make her squeal. She wants to be taken. She is yours to use, I chose her for you, I want to see her fucked.'
Tired and sore though I am, Sally's words and Adam's fingers are having an effect. He buries his tongue between my thighs, kissing and licking the length of my slit. Sally pulls lube from the pocket of her cloak and I am made slippery front and back. Sally guides her man inside me, rubbing my clit and ass with her fingers as his shaft gathers speed.
"Fuck her, fuck her hard", Sally continues, "I found her for you, she is young and tight. She wants to know what it feels like to be fucked in the ass by a man. A dozen men took her tonight in her cunt. No man has ever been in her ass. My fingers are in her ass, stretching her, making her ready for your cock. You will be her first. Take her in her ass."
My legs are raised higher and Sally guides the tip of Adam's cock to press against my ass. Adam looks me in the eyes and I feel myself being slowly stretched and Sally's fingers dancing over my clit. I try to separate the experiences in my mind, trying to brace myself against the sudden shock and pain that never comes.
"Deeper, deeper, fuck her ass," Sally implores, her fingers dancing over my clit. Adam is gasping replies now with each thrust, "Fuck! Fuck! Fucking her ass! Fucking her!" The thrust start slow and gentle becoming faster and deeper as I loosen up. I try to join in the conversation but all I can manage is to shriek with each thrust till I reach my climax.
*
Epilog
This morning as I was finishing the full account of my trip to Iron Henge, I received a present from Gina in the post and a note to say that she hopes I will wear it this year. But that as they say, is another tail.
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