[Ruth was a hippy-chick that I met in a head-shop downtown. I am usually pretty shy, but she was very open and friendly, so we struck up a conversation. She was a few years older than me, in her early twenties, I would say. She was short and had a nice figure, just plump enough to suggest softness and comfort. Her long, slightly wavy hair hung to her waist. She had a melodious voice, a ready smile, and eyes that seemed completely unguarded. She usually wore simple, loose tunics, which looked as though she had sewn them herself with fabric from a thrift store. It was apparent from the tremor and sway of her ample, soft breasts that she rarely, if ever, wore a bra. Also, her legs and armpits were unshaved. All of which I found fascinating! I had known her about a month, and was starting to think that it would be nice if we would become lovers, when the following events took place. (I should probably add that this all occurred before the time of AIDS.)]
Ruth and I got together today after school at the Dairy Queen. After we settled down, she told me her apartment had been robbed. I was really pissed off and sorry for her. I have never seen her place, but it's not in the best part of town, and she doesn't seem to have much. I was ready to go after the scum bags with my bare hands, but she tried to calm me down.
"It's not that big a deal," she shrugged.
"How can you say it's not a big deal?" I asked in exasperation. "They took everything of any value!"
"No, on the contrary," she replied quietly, "they didn't get anything of value. Most of what they took, the TV and stereo and all that, I can easily live without. What I really need to live, they didn't take, because it was of no value to them. But even if they had taken those few things, they would not be that hard to replace."
"Maybe you don't need those things," I fumed, "but they were yours and you worked hard for them! Doesn't it make you angry?"
"It could, and I guess it did at first. But I don't let it make me angry."
"You mean you're stifling your anger."
"No, I don't think so," she replied thoughtfully. "Anger, or sadness, or disappointment, or anything else I might feel about the robbery, is a result of a judgement, perhaps unconscious, that I make about it. But that judgement is in my control."
"Well, I judge that you've been screwed," I snorted.
"Yes, but if I don't judge it to be an injury, then I've not been injured. Which of us do you suppose is happier: me, who sees no real injury, or you, all stressed out and pissed off over a supposed injury to someone else?"
It seemed a screwy way of looking at things, but I couldn't argue with the fact that her tranquillity was admirable. And I had to admit that I was frequently pissed at things that someone had done to me or to someone else, and it was not a happy place to be. I asked her where she got these ideas, and she explained that she had a sort of spiritual teacher or guru called Crates [CRAH-tees]. I was asking more about him when Ruth realized she had to get to work, so she invited me to meet this guy next Saturday.
[The following Saturday.]
After lunch Ruth drove me to a place outside of town that she called Whitehound Forest. As we walked along the paths through the woods, I could see tents among the trees, and people, most of them naked.
"What is this, some kind of nudist colony?" I asked Ruth.
"Just wait," she said with a smile, "you'll see."
We came around a curve and approached an old pup tent from behind.
"This is Crates' camp. I hope he's here."
Indeed he was there. As the front of the tent came into view, I saw a man sitting on the grass in front of it. He was in his 50s, I guess, with long hair and a beard, mostly gray. And he was stark naked. And he was jerking off.
As soon as I realized what was going on, I stopped and turned away.
Ruth laughed and said, "It's OK, come on."
She grabbed my arm and pulled me, but it all seemed very weird.
Crates noticed us and, without missing a stroke, called, "Hey, Cynisca, come on over."
Ruth leaned to me and said, "That's my name here, Cynisca."
Then as we came near, she said to Crates, "Don't let us interrupt."
"Not a chance!" he panted. "Be with you in a minute."
Then he added, "You could speed things up, darling. Maybe get your friend's attention too." I was staring off into the trees.
Ruth laughed and said, "OK, I'll see what I can do." She pulled her dress off over her head, and stood there stark naked.
Well that did get my attention. I was especially drawn to her lovely tits. Large and full, but soft, even sagging. Rather pear shaped, with large dark areolas. And she had a lovely thick bush. I felt my dick starting to swell.
She walked up in front of Crates, and started to caress her soft tits.
He stared up at her and moaned, "Oh yes, Cynisca, oh my little puppy, you know how to do it for me!"
He was stroking faster now. His boner was not very big, about four inches I guess, and thin, but it looked rock hard.
He began to groan louder, and I heard someone at another camp site call, "Go for it, Crates!"
A naked couple walked by and paused, smiling. "Good work!" the woman said to Ruth; then they went on.
Suddenly Crates growled, and cum started to squirt from his cock. Much of it shot in the air and landed on the grass, but a few gobs hit his thighs.
When he had pumped it all out, he let go of his dick, which dropped limp across his balls, and he leaned back panting, glistening with sweat. After a moment, he wiped the cum off his hand onto the grass.
After relaxing for a few minutes, he said, half to himself, "Wouldn't it be nice if we could satisfy all our appetites so easily? Wouldn't it be great if, when you were hungry, all you had to do was rub your belly a little, and suddenly you would have a wonderful feeling of a satisfying dinner?"
Then he looked at Ruth and asked, "Who's your friend?"
"This is John," she answered. "I've been telling him how much you've taught me, and I wanted him to meet you."
Crates got up and extended his hand to me. "Hello, John, I'm Crates."
I took his hand reluctantly. I think he noticed, since he smiled wryly, but he said only, "What was it you wanted to talk about?"
"Well," I said a little testily, "I thought you could maybe give me some ideas on how to roll with the punches better, and not to be so jerked around by life, but if your 'secret' is masturbating in public, I don't think I need to hear that."
He laughed, and Ruth looked at him with an "I bet I know what you are going to say" expression.
"Well, as a matter of fact," said Crates, "if you jerked off a little more often, in public or in private, you might not have such a big stick up your ass, but the real issue is not masturbation."
Ruth sniggered under her hand, and I realized I was being rude, in spite of his outrageous performance, so I said, "OK, I'm listening."
"First," Ruth offered, "why don't you take your clothes off. Hardly anyone wears clothes at Whitehound. It will help you relax."
I didn't know about that, but the idea of getting naked with Ruth was appealing, even if the old man was there too. We have never made love, but her performance before Crates showed me that she had a sexier side than I have seen before. I knew I looked a lot better naked than he did. So I peeled off my shirt and jeans. When I pulled down my undershorts, my boner bounced up, so I cupped my hand over it as I sat down on a log. Given what Crates had just done, I shouldn't have been embarrassed, but still I hoped it would soften up, so I tried not to stare too much at Ruth or to think about my cock,.
"OK, here we go," said Crates, sitting down. "Lesson One. You're here because you want to live a happier life, like everyone. So, one of the first things we have to ask ourselves is, 'What keeps us from being happy?' A lot of that comes from our mental attitudes toward things, which is up to us, but we'll get to that later. Let's start with the simple stuff. What do you do when you're thirsty?"
"Drink?" I shrugged.
"Hungry?"
"Eat, of course."
"Horny?"
"Jerk off, I suppose you want me to say. This is deep philosophy?"
"Deeper than you think! What we all need to do is to clarify our thinking so that we understand what we need in order to be happy, and then arrange things so that happiness is completely in our control, so that no one and no thing can take it from us."
"I'll be interested to hear how you plan to pull that off!" I said.
"Then listen up youngin'!" he said sarcastically. "I've done it, for the most part -- no one's perfect -- and you can too; Cynisca is still working on it, but coming along quickly."
He winked at her and she smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.
"The first thing," he continued, "is to be clear about your wants and desires. You can divide them up three ways. First are the things you have to have, or you will die, things like food, air, water, and enough shelter to keep from freezing to death. Now, there are two important things about these wants. First, you know when you have had enough: your hunger is satisfied, your thirst quenched, and so on. Now of course you can go beyond that, but that is a different thing, which we'll talk about later. The second important point, is that it is not so hard to get enough of these necessities to survive."
"Yeh, but you're talking about bare survival, not happiness. Who wants to live that way?"
"Hold that thought, we'll get to it," he chuckled. "The second kind of want or desire is also 'natural', by which I mean it's part of being a human being, but it's not necessary for survival. These are things like sex, companionship, and a certain amount of physical comfort beyond staying alive. When we have a lack of these things, when we feel desire for them, it disturbs our tranquillity. We are horny, lonely, uncomfortable, whatever. So what do you do then?"
"Satisfy them, I suppose."
"Of course! These are natural desires, and there is no reason you shouldn't satisfy them -- in moderation. If you become obsessed by them, then you are under their tyranny. So it's important to learn when enough is enough. But other than that, you can be happy by satisfying them. If you are horny, jerk off. If you are lonely, go cuddle up with a willing friend. If you are horny and lonely, have sex with a willing friend."
"But that doesn't mean you have to do it in front of everyone!"
"Of course not, but why shouldn't I? We've agreed that it's natural, so there's nothing to be ashamed of. And it gives your friends an opportunity to share in your pleasure or to add to it, as Cynisca has done for me."
She bowed her head and whispered, "Your pleasure is my pleasure."
"And so it is among friends," he replied.
"But," I objected, "many people are offended by ..."
"That's their problem!" he interrupted. "I mean that seriously," he went on more quietly. "Beyond these natural desires, all that we desire or avoid is a product of our conditioning and thinking, which are in our power to change. Here at Whitehound we are a community of people who understand this. We are working at rearranging our desires so that we want only what it is natural to want, and are disinterested and immune to the rest. None of us is perfect, as I said, but that is our goal. So, if someone here is offended by you satisfying a natural need, most likely they will understand that the problem is theirs, and they will work on exploring and correcting that feeling as part of their spiritual development."
"Nice theory," I said sarcastically.
"Now where was I?" he continued, ignoring my remark. "We've talked about the needs of survival, which have a natural limit, and about our natural wants, which we should satisfy in moderation. That leaves all the other wants and desires, which I call unnatural. These are all the things that we don't need and for which we have no natural want. These are the things that most people spend most of their money on, and worry about getting and keeping. They are the cause of needless effort, anxiety, and stress. I reject them."
He turned to Ruth and said, "Why don't you sum it up for us, Cynisca?"
Standing like a caricature of a schoolgirl, she recited,
"Those things are few which we must have to live;
Enough of these will Nature often give.
Those other things that Nature bids us find,
if not too much, are good for humankind.
All other things we hold of little worth,
Nor heed them much, in plenty or in dearth."
"A+, my dear!" said Crates. "My star student," he winked at me.
"And I cook too," Ruth chuckled. "How about something to eat?"
"Ah, my puppy, you satisfy all my appetites," Crates sighed, and put his arm around her. "Since you are taking care of us so well, I can show John around my estate and let him see how one may live in happiness and tranquillity."
However, we didn't get to the tour right away. Ruth had bent over to poke in the fire, arranging the logs with a stick. Her naked ass was sticking up towards us, and I could see her hairy cunt lips. Even more exciting to me was the way her pendulous breasts swung as she worked.
"Not bad, huh?" said Crates, nudging me.
"Yeh, real nice," I managed, in my distracted state.
She looked back at us, smiled, and said, "You guys!"
Crates's dick was rapidly rising; although it's small I was surprised to see that it stuck up almost vertically. I also had a boner, which was sticking out horizontally. Crates started to stroke his boner idly, and I could see a big drop of precum glistening on its tip.
Ruth stood and turned to face us. "What have you got there, boys?" she asked, eyeing our dicks.
"Candy," said Crates, and he wiped the precum from his dick and licked it from his finger. "Want some?"
"Sure!" Ruth laughed.
Crates milked himself a few times until the end of his dick was shiny with precum. Then he put his hands behind his back and stood there with his dick sticking up at her. She, very formally, wiped the gob off his dick with her finger, and placed it in her mouth.
"Mmmm, a fine vintage, as usual," she said with a wink. "Nice boner," she added.
"It would be a shame to waste it, don't you think?" he said. "Would you like to share?"
"Why not?" Ruth said brightly.
Crates sat down on the grass and leaned back, with his hard-on sticking straight up. Ruth straddled him and lowered her pussy right on his dick, which slipped in easily. They both groaned with satisfaction.
I was beginning to wonder if this "guru's" philosophy was just a way convincing young women to have sex with him. Anyway, I was starting to move away to give them some privacy, when Crates said, "Don't go, John. You can share, too!"
"That's right," Ruth added. "Go ahead and have fun with yourself while you watch us. That will add to my enjoyment too," she added with a wink.
So I resigned myself to this kinky business, and sat and stroked my cock while they screwed a few feet in front of me. She started sliding up and down on his dick while she caressed her own tits, pushing them up almost to her neck. He grasped her thighs, rolled his head back, and moaned with pleasure.
Once again, their noisy lovemaking elicited a few cheers of encouragement and jokes from other camp sites. Along the path came a foursome, a teenage couple and an older couple, who looked to be the parents of the girl. They were all naked. The older woman, who was heavyish with flat sagging breasts, said, "Cynisca with two men! How do you deserve that?"
Ruth didn't reply, but the girl said, "It's her big boobs."
"What? Don't I have boobs?" said the woman, lifting her tits, and they both laughed.
Then the younger one, noting that their men were both sporting erections, said, "Well, come on, we can have our own party."
As they departed, they smiled at me, and the young girl said, "Welcome to Whitehound!"
A few minutes later, five young, naked kids (at most 10 years old) ran up the path and stopped to watch Ruth and Crates screwing.
"Are you making a baby?" a girl asked.
"No, just playing," Ruth laughed without pausing.
One of the little boys grabbed the girl and said, "I want to play!" but she pushed him away and said, "You're not old enough, you jerk!" They all ran away shrieking.
For my part, I was soon enjoying the entertainment. Although I was not getting to fuck Ruth, it was very exciting to watch her play with her boobs while she slid her wet pussy up and down Crates' dick. I had a major boner, and was stroking it first with one hand, then the other. Moreover, they did not try to hide the fact that they were watching me, and I was especially excited by Ruth's hungry glances, which I returned.
I had stopped stroking several times to hold off my orgasm, but finally I couldn't stop it any longer. What did it was one of the times when Ruth pulled high up on Crate's dick, so that I could see it poking up between her lips. Then she slid right down on it, so that their bushes ground together. Something about that got me, and suddenly I was jerking my cock hard, not caring what happened. My cock was thick and red and sticky as long streams of cum started to shoot from it.
Ruth yelled, "Yay, John, go for it!" and she laughed out loud and watched me spray my cum.
As I came back from my orgasm, I noticed that some of my cum had landed on her thigh, but she didn't seem to notice or care. Now she was banging her pubes against Crates', yelping and moaning in time to his groans and growls. While I pumped out the last of my cum, they began to have their orgasms together. When they were about done, they fell flat, chest to chest, and squirmed against each other with closed eyes.
Soon we were all quiet. Ruth lay on top of Crates. Their eyes were closed and they were breathing deeply, almost gasping. Sweat glistened on their skin. I was laying on the grass. I could feel my cock, still thick and long, but soft. My hand was sticky with cum, and I could also feel cum drying on my dick.
Finally Ruth stirred. "That was very nice!" she said as she pulled up off of Crates' cock. With a little plop it slipped out and landed limp and wet in his groin. He moaned and sighed. Ruth stood up and stretched, and I sat up. She looked down at me and said, "Well, did you like that?"
I looked up and saw the cum running down her inner thighs. "Weird, but very nice," I laughed.
Crates sat up and fixed me with his eyes. "Weird is in your head," he said. Then he looked at his dick, from which a big blob of cum was oozing. He wiped it off with his fingers and stuck them in his mouth. He watched me for my reaction, but I kept my poker face. He held my eyes while he went back for another scoop, wiping cum off of his balls. He sucked off his fingers with a smack; I could here Ruth, outside of my sight, stifling a giggle.
"So am I supposed to be grossed out, or offended?" I said, breaking his stare.
"No, just a little test, no more that a quiz really."
"So, is eating scum part of your philosophy, too?"
"Your language is prejudicial, John, but to answer your question, no, it's not an essential part of my philosophy. But it's natural. Dogs do it. They lick their dicks when they feel like it and screw anywhere."
"And if we do that, we're no better than dogs," I objected.
"No better?" he asked, "or no worse?"
"What do you mean?"
"Most dogs, like other animals, are very good at being what they are; they're natural. People think too much, and get away from their natural selves. But that's also our strength, because we can use our minds to govern our judgements, which are the roots of our likes and dislikes."
"So you have convinced yourself that cum is good?" I asked sarcastically.
"Some things are objectively bad for your body. Starvation is bad, asphyxiation is bad, frostbite is bad, heatstroke is bad, rattlesnake bite is bad, denatured alcohol is bad. A little cum is not bad, right Cynisca?"
Ruth only smiled. I wondered exactly what their relationship was, and started to feel a bit jealous.
"I know it's not poisonous," I said, still sarcastic, "but that doesn't make it taste good."
"Ahh," said Crates, "that's precisely the point. 'Tasting good' is one of those judgements. But knowing that intellectually and really living it are two different things. Therefore one of our spiritual exercises is to practice changing our judgements, so we change our likes and dislikes, our joys and pleasures. Now, it turns out that long ago I was really grossed out by cum, which made orgasms a lot less fun than they might have been for me. So I decided I would like cum, and worked at changing my attitude until the like became genuine. Now I have cured a hangup that made sex less fun, and have acquired a new pleasure, eating cum. Not to excess, of course! Understand?"
"I suppose," I said doubtfully.
"Now, I'm not saying everyone should learn to like cum. It's not essential. It was a hangup for me, so it was important for me to work on it. Other people have other issues they need to work on. What are yours?"
That brought me up short. Confused, I looked him the eyes, and then stared at the ground.
"Well, while you guys debate the virtues of licking your dicks," Ruth said, getting to her feet, "I need to get back to fixing supper, or we'll have different unsatisfied appetites to deal with."
"Practical as always, my little puppy," Crates laughed. "Come on, John, let me show you around my pad."
So while Ruth got supper ready, Crates showed me around his camp and explained his way of life.
He lives in an army surplus pup tent with minimal possessions, which he keeps in a surplus canvas duffel bag. About all he owns are a knife, a metal pot for cooking food, a water jug, a cauldron for washing, a cloth napkin, a towel, and a spoon.
"I had a fork, but somebody stole it," he laughed. "Turns out I didn't need it after all. Needless luxury. Conspicuous consumption."
He doesn't have any clothes. For warmth he wraps around himself a large woolen blanket (army surplus, of course), in which he also sleeps. He says he once had a pair of pants and a shirt, but he gave them away, and so now he borrows a shirt and pants on the rare occasions that he needs to go to town.
He keeps a small store of dry food (cereals, fruit, jerky, bread, rice, beans) in a plastic tub by his tent, and he cooks over a fire pit at the edge of his grass area. Nearby is what he calls his "tool box": a pile of sticks and stones he has found useful in the past and might find useful in the future.
Crates mostly barters for what he needs, and accepts "thanks offerings" for his services: he makes amulets, does magic, and is a spiritual advisor for the Whitehound community. He sometimes borrows a book, but he memorizes all his lore and puts it in verse form. Sometimes he writes it down for others, however.
I should probably mention here that Crates is thin, but not scrawny, and looks healthy for his age. He has graying dark hair, which he wears long, past his shoulders, and sports a beard to his chest. Both are unkempt, but not especially dirty looking. He says he takes sponge baths from his cauldron so that he won't pollute the stream with soap.
In general, all the Whitehound people looked healthy. They consider exercise and physical labor to be very important for the sake of a healthy and happy life. Although there are healers among them, they will go to a doctor if necessary, and there is some commonly held money for this purpose.
"So," I asked, as we sat down to eat, "do you suggest that everyone should live in a tent like you do?"
"No, of course not," Crates laughed. "I choose to live this way, because this way I am happiest. And by my example other people can see that it is possible to be happy living in a tent with very few possessions. If they understand this, then they will see how it is possible to be happy in whatever circumstances they find themselves. This demonstration is part of my contribution to the community."
"But you think we're better off if we give everything away and take a vow of poverty."
"Not better off," he chuckled, "but that's probably the easier path to happiness. There's nothing about my philosophy that says you can't be rich. It's your desire for unnecessary possessions that matters, not the quantity or value of them."
"Well, you make a good case, but you can't all do without possessions. How do you find a place to live? Someone must own this land. Do you pay rent or are you squatters?"
"Neither," said Crates, "Cynisca owns Whitehound Forest."
"Actually, my parents own it," Ruth corrected him, "but they live out of state and are happy to have me watch over it."
"Do they know what's going on here?" I asked suspiciously.
"Well, they know I'm letting a bunch of my hippy friends camp here. They have no plans for it, so they don't care, so long as it's not trashed. They say it will be mine one day anyway."
"So, you're freeloading off Ruth, I mean, Cynisca."
"Not freeloading," said Crates with a smile, "but a fair exchange. She let's me live here and in trade I teach and give some advice when it's needed. I believe the land has benefited to."
"Yes," Ruth agreed quickly. "Crates and the others have cleaned up the garbage that was here, planted herbs and other plants, and generally improved the environment. It's much better with our community living on it than when it was abandoned."
"We all pay our way in different ways," Crates remarked.
"Hmm," I mused as I dug into the beans and rice that Ruth had prepared. For a few minutes we all ate in silence, but then another question occurred to me.
"So, you have free love here?"
"No!" they both said together.
"Free love is not the point," Crates continued. "We practice freedom in the fullest, truest, and only way possible for human beings. Free love, if you want to call it that, is just a consequence of our true freedom. As you probably know, free love is no guarantee of happiness, but happiness is what we're after."
"But you screw whomever and whenever you want. Isn't that free love?"
"Sex is natural, and so sex -- in moderation -- is a good thing. We are not obsessed by it, but there is no reason we should not enjoy it. Everyone if free -- but not obliged! -- to have sex whenever and wherever they want, and with whomever is agreeable in whatever manner they want."
"What about the children?" I asked.
"What about them?"
"Running around naked, aren't they screwing all the time and getting pregnant? And don't some adults take advantage of them? Surely you don't claim that child abuse is OK."
Crates shook his head. "You really don't think we're very bright, do you, John? I'll explain how it works. For the most part, the children are raised by the entire Whitehound community, although of course they have their biological families. Since we consider sex to be natural and healthy, we don't discourage young children from sexual play; it's just one part of the rough and tumble of childhood. Of course, we monitor all their play to make sure there is no physical aggression.
"When the children are approaching puberty, we begin teaching them the mysteries of procreation, so that by the time of their coming-of-age rites, they know the consequences of sex. Now, this doesn't mean that they have to abstain from sex, but it does mean that they have to be responsible. Those whom the elders judge to be mature enough to make sexual decisions for themselves are given a bracelet."
He rummaged around among the jewelry he was working on and produced a bracelet decorated with abstract shapes vaguely suggestive of genitalia and copulating figures.
"It's commonly known as the 'sex license', but it's really quite an honor, because it's a badge proclaiming their maturity and responsibility. Some people continue to wear them after their teen years."
"I still have mine," Ruth said, "and I often wear it here in the forest, especially if I'm trolling for sexual adventures!"
"So what does this 'license' let them do?" I asked with fascination.
"It means," Crates explained, "that a young person is qualified to consent to sexual acts. When such a person tells you what they are allowed to do, you can trust them. It allows two (or more!) teens to know when they can get together for sexual experimentation. It also allows adults to know when they can get sexually involved with teens. We consider both kinds of relationships to be an important part of growing up, and therefore we encourage them. Of course, all kinds of relationships, sexual or otherwise, can have their rough spots and problems, but that is why we have our councils of elders and advisors. It is an evolving system, but so far it seems to be working well. We have very well-adjusted young people."
This was a lot to think about, so I excused myself to take a leak, and wandered off alone into the woods.
I was coming back along the path when four naked teenage girls came running around a corner and almost ran me over. They looked a few years younger than me. They were all giggling and apologizing. They were attractive and, in spite of my wishes, my dick had lengthened out and was starting to stiffen.
"Well, let's get going," one said, after they had finished their apologies, and they turned to go. As they left, another looked back over her shoulder and said, "Nice dick, mister!"
It took me a minute to react, but I called, "Thanks!" after them.
The girl who had complimented me stopped, and then turned and looked back at me. "I'll catch up," she called over her shoulder to the others and walked slowly back to me. She was tall and thin with a rather flat chest, but her nipples stuck out a lot. She had short blond hair and a pixie face, with large brown eyes.
"I guess I was rude," she said, "talking about your dick before I even know your name."
"That's OK," I said. "My name is John," I extended my hand.
"Pleased to meet you, John," she said with mock formality, extending her hand. "I'm Starfalcon. You're new at Whitehound, right?"
I told her how I came to be there.
"Neat!" she said. "Well, I should get going. Nice talking to you! And I do like seeing a new dick around here!"
I laughed and said, "Well, I'm glad if it makes you happy."
"Oh, it does!" she said, moving closer and staring into my eyes. My dick was now sticking out horizontal.
Without breaking eye contact, she let her finger tips lightly graze my dick. I trembled and she smiled a little as she touched a bit harder. She moved her face closer, stretching up to mine, as her fingers began to curl around my dick.
"Mmmm, nice, thick and long," she purred, almost to herself. "Yeh, one of the bigger ones in the Forest, I would guess. We're going to have to get better acquainted."
She stretched up and gave me a long kiss, reaching one arm around my neck, but never taking her other hand off my dick. She slid slowly down on her knees until her face was in my crotch. She buried her nose in my bush, and pressed my hard cock against her cheek.
She kissed down the side of my dick, held it next to her lips and then, looking up with pleading doe-eyes, asked, "May I?"
I groaned in anguish and said, "I don't know!" but she held up her arm so I could see the "license" on her wrist.
"It's OK, it's official," she laughed.
"Oh yes, Starfalcon," I moaned, and she licked the precum off my dick and placed her lips around its head. It felt so good, I almost came on the spot, but I held back. She looked up into my eyes as she took more of my dick into her mouth. She couldn't get it all in, but she pushed it in further from time to time, and I could feel the back of her throat.
Suddenly she took her mouth off my cock, grabbed it in her hand, and looked up at me and asked, "Do you want to eat me?"
"Yes!" I said eagerly.
"OK!" she laughed, and then pulled me to a grassy spot, where she lay on her back with her legs spread.
I straddled her, and sucked her long firm nipples. Then I slid down to her pussy and spread her lips, which were fat, but covered in only a little fine hair. I sucked on her clit, which was quite prominent, and pushed my tongue inside her. She groaned and rubbed her palms on her tits. Soon she was squirming and grinding her pubes against my face.
"I want your cock!" she gasped suddenly.
I leaned back, with my cock sticking up at an angle. She crawled up my thighs and devoured it, holding it in her right hand, but she kept her left in her pussy. She slid my dick in and out of her throat, going deeper than I thought she could have. She squeezed my balls while she sucked.
Soon I felt the pressure building and my cock swelling. "I'm coming," I gasped. "I'm coming!"
I didn't know if she wanted it in her mouth, but I figured she had fair warning. Suddenly the cum was throbbing down my dick and squirting into her mouth. I felt her gulp a couple times.
As my dick softened, she let it drop out of her mouth. She looked up at me, smiling, drops of cum on her chin. She licked my dick a few times, especially the cum that was still oozing from the end. Then she crawled up along my body, whispered "thank you," and began to french kiss me. I could taste my cum in her mouth.
We lay, cuddling and kissing for long minutes, but too soon I heard one of her friends calling.
"I'm here!" Starfalcon answered.
We were back on our feet by the time her somewhat pudgy but very buxom friend came around the bend.
"What's keeping you?" she asked. "I thought you said you would catch up? ... Oh, I see!"
As she reached us she asked, "Care for a third?"
I blushed and said, "I don't think I have much to offer at the moment." We all looked down at my soggy, limp dick.
"Story of my life," she sighed. "By the way, I'm Gentle Dove."
It turned out that the girls were preparing a "comedy revue," so there was not time then for more adventures, even if I had been capable. So Starfalcon and I hugged tightly and frenched, and I gave Dove an affectionate hug which managed to make my dick stir.
"Catch you later, when you're better ...ahhh ... rested!" Dove said with a wink as they departed. She waved and I noticed her "license."
As they disappeared around the bend, I shook my head, and wandered back to Crates' camp in a daze.
When I got there I found Crates sitting beside Ruth, his hand hanging casually in her thatch; she hardly seemed to notice. I'm sure that they could tell from my face (if not my cock) that something had happened, but they didn't ask.
"Looks like John is finding his way around Whitehound," Crates winked at Ruth.
I sat down on a log opposite them, but Ruth came and sat beside, and it was very pleasant to feel her warm naked skin against mine. We talked a little more about the Whitehound philosophy, but my brain was already overloaded and it was getting late. We decided to stay the night, so Ruth got a couple of sleeping bags out of her car and we spread them on the edge of Crates' camp. He was already snoring in his tent by the time Ruth and I kissed (rather chastely) and climbed into our sleeping bags. That was a little less than I had hoped for, but my disappointment was soon submerged in sleep. The day's activities had completely drained me.
I awoke suddenly a little later. I was momentarily disoriented, but the moon had risen and illumined the Forest in a ghostly light. However, even if I had not been able to see where I was, the sounds would have given it away. It seemed like the whole forest was alive with fucking. From different directions and distances came grunts and groans and occasional growls and shrieks. I wondered how anyone got any sleep in this place, but I could still here Crates snoring in his tent. Ruth was hidden by a shadow, but I thought I could hear her breathing deeply in sleep.
I suppose one gets used to the racket of unending wild sex, but it was difficult for me to ignore it and get back to sleep. One particular woman, not too far away, was obviously enjoying herself with her partner. Amidst inarticulate cries and shouts, she kept panting, "Oh yes, yes, eat me, eat me!" I couldn't hear anything from her lover, except muffled slurpy noises, which may have been in my imagination.
Indeed, by then my imagination was going full blast. I had no idea who that woman was or what she looked like, but I had created in my imagination a stacked nymphomaniac in heat, and this woman was providing the soundtrack. My dick was long and stiff by then and pressing uncomfortably against my sleeping bag, so I brought it up against my stomach and started rubbing it. Soon I was stroking it more seriously, and I allowed myself to groan aloud in pleasure; amidst the general chorus of lust, I didn't figure that my lonely grunts would be noticed. Anyway, Crates had said that I shouldn't be ashamed of it, right?
In any case, I was pretty well absorbed in jerking off, when suddenly I saw a ghostly white sphere moving in the moonlight. It took me a moment to realize that it was Ruth's naked ass! I had been so busy with my dick that I hadn't noticed that she had got out of her sleeping bag, and was on all fours, slowly backing toward me. As my eyes focused I could see her hairy cunt, which she was spreading for me. She was chuckling softly, no doubt wondering how long it would take for me to notice.
Well, as soon as I realized what was going on, I was out of my sleeping bag. Ruth was leaning forward on her elbows and groaning while she stroked her tits on the grass. Her pussy was wide open and inviting, so I guided my dick straight into her; she was already real juicy and I slid right in. I grabbed her hips and gently pushed in all the way to her cervix. She let out a little gasp as I bottomed out in her, and then a low growl. As she continued to dangle her boobs on the ground, I began slow strokes in and out of her wet hole. I wanted to be real careful that I didn't cum to quickly, and I was happy that the day's multiple orgasms had left me a little depleted. Soon we were adding our voices to the collective chorus of ecstasy, which resounded in the Forest.
I was really enjoying holding her wide hips in both hands and sliding her pussy over my pole, but I also wanted to get my hands on her tits, for which I had been hungry all day. I reached forward with my right hand and lifted her boob, which hung soft in my hand. She whimpered as I pulled and played with her large nipple. Then she growled as I mashed her boob against her chest. Next I pulled her long tit back and squeezed down it like I was trying to milk her.
I felt the pressure of cum beginning to build, so I dropped her boob and grabbed her butt with both hands while I pulled my dick out. I closed my eyes and concentrated on controlling my orgasm, while Ruth moaned quietly. When I opened my eyes again, my eyes were filled with Ruth's round cheeks, and her glorious cunt. Her pussy was spread wide and her inner lips protruded like fleshy leaves. Her entire glorious hole glistened with nectar.
I couldn't restrain myself any longer, and without taking my hands from her hips, I guided my rigid pole into her cunt. I pushed it home, and when I hit bottom Ruth screamed, and then gasped, "Oh yes, fuck me hard, oh God, fuck me all the way, John!"
Her words pushed me over the edge, and I began to give her long strokes, almost pulling my head out of her pussy, then ramming it all the way to the end of her cunt. She alternately screamed, gasped, groaned, and cried, but always with calls of "More! Harder!"
Ruth had her face and chest on the ground, but her ass high in the air as I continued my thrusting. Before long I felt the inevitable pressure building in my groin, ready to explode from my cock. I began to growl and then yell as the force of it surged down my cock. I continued to thrust faster and harder as the cum shot deep into her womb. Even as I pumped out the last of my cum, the ecstasy continued and I continued to ram my dick in her juicy hole.
Eventually my dick began to soften, but I was still hungry to fuck her. When it began to get difficult to slide my dick in and out, and I was mostly just stretching and squashing it, I angrily ground my pubes into her. Mashing our soggy pubes together felt so good that I was soon surprised to feel a mini orgasm. My dick swelled and hardened a little, and I felt a shudder as I shot another wad of cum into her.
But that finished us both off. We were panting and drenched in sweat. Ruth pushed her legs out behind her, so that she could lie flat on her stomach, and in the process my shrinking dick slipped out of her cunt. But I stayed laying on her back, with my dick between her thighs and dribbling cum.
As we came back to earth from our orgasm, amidst the surrounding sounds of ecstasy, I became aware of a nearby sound. A tell-tale slapping and grunting was coming from Crates' tent. Suddenly it was replaced by moaning and then gasping for breath.
Then Crates was quiet, until I heard a long sigh, after which he said out loud, "Thanks, kids!"
Ruth and I both cracked up, and she said, "Our pleasure!"
We crawled into my sleeping bag and were soon deep asleep, and didn't awake until late Sunday morning, when Crates roused us for breakfast. Afterwards Ruth brought me home. We didn't talk much; I didn't know what to say, and she left me with my many thoughts.
[As you might suppose, this was the first of many trips to Whitehound Forest!]
Comments on this story are welcome!
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Last revised June 3, 2002