The third edition of Wet and Wild piss weekend at the Starland clothing-optional retreat was just as much fun as the previous two. And that’s saying a lot.
Attendance was up, including both regulars and newbies, some of them just, shall we say, getting their feet wet for the first time.
Phil, the Event Organizer, and Drew, the Facilities Manager, made us all very welcome, and filled the weekend calendar with ideas and activities, most but not all of them kinky. Friday night after dinner we each had a chance to reveal our interests, preferences, desires and (occasionally) limits. That really broke the ice, and once it was over we immediately starting to play in twos, threes, and more.
The patio had been laid out with care. It reminded me of the room in Willy Wonka where everything was edible: here, every piece of furniture was pissable. You could piss anywhere! (Just not inside or in the hot tub.)
I discovered the advantages of a hammock: it’s really easy for someone to straddle you and redirect their aim from crotch to chest to mouth and back, so that every drop has maximum impact.
The tent in the middle of the patio had three rim chairs lined up, and darned if we didn’t have them all in use at once sometimes.
Then there was the “puppy pile place” A big inflatable bed with comfortable, washable coverlets. At scheduled times, four or five guys would pile on, getting pissed on by one another (and by other guys who couldn’t find space on the bed).
A new feature at Starland was called the Red Light District: a glory hole maze, a sling, etc. , set off behind the main building. It was nice, and the sling certainly got well used, but I suspect it will be more important at other events, where the bulk of attendees aren’t uninhibited, exhibitionistic sluts like us.
Of course there was a piss pool. But often the action was wherever a guy happened to be kneeling. I was casually lying in a chaise lounge at one point and received five loads in and on me at once. The lounge was too soggy to be used for a while, but remember that this is the desert: things dry out real quick here.
In fact, it might have been just a bit too hot for optimum play. Some torpor was noticeable: I myself skipped the expedition to “piss in the middle of the labyrinth” and the late-night scorpion hunt. This let me preserve my energy for some marathon rimming sessions.
But there was no pressure: the weekend was long, and it was just fine to lie in the hot tub and relax. (The tub had a maximum official capacity of 15 guys; we had 9 in it quite comfortably, albeit with plenty of body contact.)
Other planned activities included a 9-way massage exchange, and a session where we explored the role of pheromones in gay sex. (Conclusion: You can’t guess a man’s personality or identity from the smell of his armpits. But once you’ve smelled them, you CAN recognize him by that scent when you smell it again.) After the armpit experiments, we moved on to butt-sniffing, but then it was dinner time, so we never got into smelling each other’s feet.
But I guess I should tell you about the Piss Poker games. We played outdoors on Saturday afternoon, and, as usual, folks quickly picked up the rules and got into it. But for Sunday we moved the card-playing to an indoor table, and just went outside to pay off the wet, messy or kinkier wagers. And I brought out my camera.
As usual the wagers started tame, with losers being required to drink quantities of water, wear some very mild tit-clamps, or wear a yellow bandana around their neck to remind us all that they were available to drink the piss of any hand-winner who needed that service.
Someone wagered: The loser has to expose his butt. We decided that meant we had to make a video:
Wager: Loser has to “get all up in” the winner’s crotch. This was paid off at length, and with enthusiasm.
Loser takes piss from everyone. This took us out onto the patio, and over to the piss pool:
We even rounded up additional guys who hadn’t been playing:
You’ll note the loser was wearing a collar and leash: this was from an earlier wager: loser becomes an animal (or pet) and remains leashed until he wins a hand.
I’ll mention here a wager that didn’t get photographed: Loser licks the floor of the piss pool. Several folks expressed that they wouldn’t be willing to do that, or would take maybe a token taste, but the actual loser of the hand dove down and slurped up a long , full, nasty tongueful.
Some of the wagers were intended more as humiliation than sex. This wager was that the loser had to go up to guys outside, perform the “YMCA” moves, and get them to join in (without actually asking or explaining). He did a great job, and the non-players were thrilled to have helped complete the wager payoff.
Next, a rimming wager. OK, it’s not a great pic, but you get the idea.
Shortly after that, someone proposed another rimming wager, slightly amplified: the winner was to use a riding crop to “encourage” the loser and make sure he did a good job:
This is always one of my favorite wagers: we soak a jockstrap with piss and gag the loser with it:
Next it was time for another “performance” wager, targeting another unsuspecting non-poker-player:
One of the players brought an assortment of cock rings and ball-stretching jewelry, and losing wagerers had to struggle to wear them. No pics available, sorry.
Next: Loser takes one swat on the butt from the riding crop from EACH player:
Our last wager: We take a small cupcake, gather around and thoroughly soak it with piss:
…And the loser has to eat the cupcake:
The Piss Poker game was fun, but it was really just a small part of the weekend’s festivities. There was plenty of good old-fashioned sucking, fucking, spanking and other stuff. It was also educational: one of the attendees was a sex therapist and pro dom, who shared some techniques but also learned a lot from us. The finer points of piss-fucking (or generally pissing while hard) and the risks and joys of piss-felching got discussed.
Some folks left Sunday, some stayed until Monday morning, some even stuck around to help with the cleanup. Thank you for that, you guys!
As we each took our parting showers, hugged one another and exchanged contact info, we promised to keep watching for the date of the next Wet and Wild Weekend. (Tentatively, May 7-9, 2027, but we need to wait to be sure it won’t conflict with the next Latrine Duty party in Los Angeles.)
Oh, did I mention the star-gazing? The Milky Way looked amazing! I saw a roadrunner and heard coyotes at night, and no rattlesnakes were in evidence this time. Yeah, it was a great fucking weekend!