A Tale from Burning Man


I’d finished breakfast and was putting on my costume again when Janice came back into the trailer.

“Do we have any more water in here?” she asked. Like me, she was topless. It was already nearly 80 degrees and it was only quarter to nine in the morning.

“Sorry, I drank the last two bottles,” I said. “But we should still have that carton of 12 that we took over to the drum circle last night.”

“I’ll go check,” said Janice. “See you at the camp in a few minutes, you little show-off!” She shut the door and left.

I stood up and admired myself in the mirror. My costume was easy to assemble, but striking.

Beneath my wide-brimmed white hat, angular stripes of red paint adorned my forehead and cheeks, evoking something between an Indian actress and an Anglo-Saxon warrior queen. Between my full breasts dangled a thick gold chain with crescent moon emblems.

I wore loose-fitting acrylic leggings, dotted with stars against a surreal blue, green, and yellow backdrop. The inner thighs were cut out in a deep V that fully revealed my crotch. As always, I took pleasure in exhibiting my unshaven cunt to friends and strangers, women and men alike.

Those two bottles of water were catching up with me. I had to piss. I didn’t feel like walking half a mile over to those porta-potties again. I put on my sunglasses and went outside, the bright desert heat cascading over me like a dry sauna.

Behind the trailer, I squatted in the dust and sighed comfortably as I began to relieve myself. Good God, I was drinking water constantly here. I felt eyes on me and turned my head to the right.

Sheena was standing there watching me: tall, slender, small-breasted, brunettte, naked except for a long headdress with flamingo feathers and a small silver navel piercing. She was bisexual and divorced in her early 40’s. Back home in Chicago, she worked as a political consultant for the Democratic Party.

“Like what you see, Sheena?” I asked with a smile as I continued to piss.

“Love it,” said Sheena. “You’re very uninhibited. I couldn’t get over the stuff you did at that kaçak iddaa show last night.”

At one of the sex-themed camps, I’d volunteered to stand in the center of a circle, playing with and penetrating my pussy with a variety of objects I’d brought along, from bondage rope to a long English cucumber.

“I’ve never seen a woman inserting a wine bottle into her pussy before,” said Sheena. “You went so deep. That really turned me on.”

“A lot of people felt that way,” I said. Five different men had asked me to fuck after the show, but I’d turned them all down. At least they were polite and not as persistent as on my recent trip to southern Italy.

Sheena came over and handed me some towelettes. I tidied up and stood up confidently.

“Did you watch the girls riding those Sybian orgasm machines last night?” Sheena asked.

“I was there for the first half hour. Pretty hot, especially the black woman with the nipple clamps on. Wouldn’t have done it myself, though. I thought they were a little sloppy cleaning the machines off afterwards.”

“So what are you up to today?” Sheena asked.

“I’m heading over to Lizzie Lamppost’s seminar right now.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun,” said Sheena, putting her hand on my arm. “I read the description in the program. I was going to go yesterday but I slept in.”

“You should come support me today,” I said. “I’m the model.”

Sheena’s mouth opened in a wide O. “OK, I’m there!” she said.

Arm in arm, we strode across the playa, with balloons floating amid crazy art installations and the effigy of the Burning Man looming in the distance beyond the tents.

Ten minutes later, inside an enormous white tent, I lay on my back with my legs wide open on a wide, fold-out bed covered with red terrycloth towels. A huge fan powered by a generator kept me deliciously cool as Janice and Sheena slowly massaged coconut oil all over my naked body. I moaned and sighed from how good it felt.

My cunt, which had been getting wetter and wetter ever since Sheena came and peeped at me, was now throbbing with awareness kaçak bahis of the crowd of nearly 20 people gathered around me, all eager to watch my body get worshipped. The official event photographer stood at the foot of the bed, snapping shots I’d authorized that maintained my privacy – but fully revealed my nasty behavior. I wanted to have control over my anal pleasure, so I’d inserted a butt plug deep into my ass just before lying down – again, in full view of this Burning Man audience.

I reached down with both hands to spread my labia wide open, showing off my drenched pink and my engorged clit.

Despite the noise from the fan, I could catch snatches of what Lizzie Lamppost was saying. The tall, businesslike woman wearing a black bikini and a headscarf with an eagle motif produced a big bottle of lube and donned an elbow-length latex glove. “…been doing this for more than 10 years…certified by the San Francisco board…generously agreed to be our model today…great body and a natural exhibitionist…Burners, please give a warm round of applause…”

Lizzie kneeled down on the bed and gently began to caress my pussy with her right hand. People craned forward to get a better look. “How does that feel?” Lizzie asked.

“Ahh, so fucking good,” I murmured. “Love those hands all over me. Fingers get me off so good.” Lizzie began caressing the middle of my soaked seam with her knowing fingers.

I groaned loudly, closing my eyes to savor the sensation. When I opened them again, I caught Sheena’s gaze. I reached up, took her by the hair, and brought her face down to my breast. “I want you to suck me, Sheena. I want you to suck my nipples in nice and deep.”

She obeyed, her hands continuing to trace circles over my stomach and chest.

“Oh fuck yeah,” I gasped. Lizzie was starting to rub my clit in circles, diddling me as if she’d seen me do it before. Maybe she had. Two nights ago, I’d masturbated for a group of strangers in front of a campfire in exchange for a bottle of Patron. A young woman wearing fishnets and a psychedelic tanktop had laid down beside me on illegal bahis the blanket and held my hand as I reached my loud climax.

“You suck me too, Janice,” I gasped. “I need this!”

Janice put my left tit in her mouth and made direct eye contact with me as she suckled it deep, running her hands all over my body now. I heard a high-pitched gasp of excitement from the back of the crowd and could tell that at least one other woman was frigging herself off to the sight.

“Oh shit, Lizzie, please fuck me,” I groaned. “I need to get fucked right now. Fucked and filled. I want everybody to see me getting fucked.” Lizzie’s lubed-up hand slid smoothly into my cunt. It felt even better than the wine bottle up my hole the day before. I was getting so motherfuckin’ nasty. My face contorted with pleasure as I let out a raw cry of excitement. I heard the photographer snapping away.

“Oh yeah, give it to her,” somebody yelled out.

“Fuckin’ fist me, you bitch!” I screamed out. Lizzie’s fingers turned into a ball and I felt intense, overwhelming pressure on my G-spot. I heard buzzing and opened my eyes just enough to see Sheena holding out a Hitachi Magic Wand, bringing it down slowly to touch my swollen-up clit while Janice watched approvingly.

Lizzie fucked my hole with her strong arm like the biggest dildo I’d ever taken. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, please!” I screamed out. It felt unbelievably good. Something was building up. My whole body was stiffening up with excitement. Before I knew it, I felt a contraction and I gushed hard, soaking Lizzie with my ejaculate. “Oh God yes!” I gushed again. People were cheering all around me. I grabbed Janice and Sheena and pulled them up against me, Lizzie’s hand still filling me up completely.

I lay there for a while, savoring all the sensations and staring up at the ceiling as the crowd dispersed. Janice handed me another bottle of water. “I think you need this,” she said with a wink.

I gratefully drank every drop. Lizzie looked at me as she slowly withdrew her hand from my pussy. “That was quite a journey. Glad we got you safely home.”

I reached out and touched her arm. “Now I know why they call you ‘Lizzie Lamppost.'” Everybody smiled. I felt good about everything I’d done so far today, and the day was just getting started.

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