Content warning: this story potentially contains some dubious consent, as I was very drunk for it. That being said, I personally have no regrets or weird feelings.
If you’ve ever been to a festival/burn, you know that there’s a certain air of hedonism. It’s almost casual, how people fuck, and while I’m sure a lot of it can be chalked up to the booze and drugs, I think a lot of it is just letting yourself have that fun.
This story takes place on the third night of such a festival. After two nights of warming up, our forest glen was positively bacchanalian. For my part, I had done my duty of consuming as much alcohol and herbage as I could stand, then consuming some more for good measure. I staggered gleefully from tent to tent, enjoying the art and performances underway. At one tent, a woman called like a carnival barker for cocks to play with, leading to a decent enough hand job. Eventually, I found myself in front of a large canopy, filled with mattresses and moaning. Why, it was a sex tent!