The Heat, Flames, Bodies, And Writhings Of The Drums  

rm_Kallisti_5 37M
83 posts
7/11/2006 1:21 pm

Last Read:
7/15/2006 9:35 am

The Heat, Flames, Bodies, And Writhings Of The Drums


Sunday night, camped out on one-hundred acres of Canadian plains with two thousand odd urban/hippie/folky kids at the Folk Festival. All weekend has been a constant blast of parties around campfires at night, drug trips for some, and bluegrass and world music for all. It's the last night, and everyone knows it.

The main act has ended at 10:30. The night is cool, almost cold, and the moon is bright as a spotlight. My friends and I sit around a campfire, sharing favorite moments and best acts. I can't concentrate. The drums are too loud. I grab the black wicker cowboy hat with skull emblem my friend brought and place it on my own head and follow the sounds of the whooping, cheering, yelling, and beating drums.

A group of thirty to fifty people, huddled in a large circle around a three-foot diameter fire pit. The light is hard to see between the heads of those around it. Of course, I walk up to the periphery, staring ahead at the flames. My body shrugs rhythmically to the beat.

The beat. Drums of all kinds. Djimbays. Congo drums. Snares. Go-go bells fashioned to a pole, beat with a drum stick. Three 55 gallon plastic barrels turned upside down, hammered. The occasional blast of a trumpet, or the airy whispers of pan pipes.

I surge forward. As each young, drunk kid turns away, I step forward briskly, working my way to the center.

I am in. Behind me is a thin circle of the drummers, before me the small blaze of the fire pit. Three girls are hoisted upon the 55 gallon drums, gyrating their hips. One, a slight girl wears her jeans low and a pink bra covering her smallish breasts. Below her, the drummers, all men, shirtless with fine bronze, sweaty, muscled bodies, hammer on.

My feet are at the edge of the fire pit. I pull my shirt off, tucking it in the back of my pants. I begin to sway, left to right, bouncing my hands up and down, up and down to a staccato beat. I am sober, and have no worries for my balance.

One of the drummers flips his sticks backwards, and usues the metal sticks, clanging (clang! clang-cla-cla-clang-clang!) them against the rim of the fire pit. The sound, high, metallic, punctuates the throbbing pulse. He looks away from the heat, as I thrust my sholders towards the heat. I stomp from foot to foot, looking at the faces of the other dancing people, young men slightly nodding their heads. A small man in a devil mask and another small man in a skull mask get tribally low to the ground. I follow suit. Girls grind against girls. Random howls are started, as the entire group screams skyward. Girls randomly uvulate in the dark

The sweat is flowing freely now. My hairy chest is filmed. I make eyes with the girls dancing around the fire. This is the point, the purpose, the urge--to dance, to feel the beat in your coccyx all the way up to your cock, heart, and head. I smile, grimice, and grunt, all for the beat (and those watching.)

Hours pass. I remain. Other dancers get near the heat, only to back off after a few minutes.

A young woman dances three people to my left. She's average hieght, I discern, with a body and face much like my partner, who is asleep in the tent a hundred yards away (she had finger-fucked a beautiful lebsian dancer two nights before)--sharp nose, long dark hair, round body. Our eyes meet a few times. Slowly, she works her way near me, though does not touch me. I sway from side to side, brushing my bare arm against her shoulder. She does not step away. I work my way behind her, shaking my head to the beat, slipping my hands around her waist. Her hands make clawa and grab my fingers, not letting me go. We grind together, my cock getting hard brushing at her ass. Her hands pass to my thighs, clawing at my pants. Slowly, we continue to dance. I smile, stepping backward an inch every few beats, working our way back outside of the wall of dancers.

She grabs me when we exit, taking us back to a small grove of trees where we explore each others bodies and mouths in the grass under the trees. "I'm not going to have sex with you," she says, likely setting limits for herself. "That's fine with me," I say, satisfied to be where I am. Not long later, her pieced nipple exposed over the top of her bra, she says she needs to get back to her friends, and I wish her a good night.

I slept well, drifting off to the sounds of the continuing beat.

nottycara 37F

7/12/2006 1:25 am

Hey prettyboy!

woah thats pretty hot! I like this one! Your gf must be hot too and Ooo the finger fucked by hot lesbian bit gets me going !


rm_loneremily 34F
328 posts
7/12/2006 6:37 am

I, too, greatly appreciate your writing talents, friend.


ArgosPlumyKooky 46F
3902 posts
7/12/2006 5:52 pm

you asked me a question. the answer is YEs, but see, it is indeed a fine line between sexy adoration and ugly obsession. yes


rm_loneremily 34F
328 posts
7/13/2006 4:27 pm

You should give me your messenger ID if you have one. It would be rather neato (big dork, here).


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