“If you are easily offended look away now!”
The Naked Strewthpidity of Camp Tantra 1991 – 2
Clare was ‘gifted’, in many areas, that is not me being specifically tarty about it, but she was. She had a way about her that fascinated me, really, truly deeply fascinated me. She was filled with Eastern promise and fantasy, she was a great mentor and a marvelous teacher and very patient. She also had in her skill set an incredible sense of the most deliciously wicked humour l had ever encountered in a woman at the time. She was gorgeous in every aspect. Her personality and smile alone could launch ships! She could wink at you in such a way that you had to sit down – fast! It wasn’t just me she had that effect on, it was many men, but equally women. You see Clare liked to swing both ways, which trust me when l tell you that was more than an eye opener for me on more than one occasion, and those moments tested your true mettle!
She was extremely experimental, and also very well read, and as l have said l learned a lot from her. The Tantra sexuality and sensuality ‘workshop’ at the camp was quite possibly one of the most adventurous holidays l had EVER been on and it still remains that way today. Camp Tantra was a once in my lifetime experience, l would do it again, but as l discussed in the first episode of this story, l am no longer the same man l was at 55 when l was 28!
A lot has happened to me in those 27 years, in some eyes it is a mere drop in an ocean, but for me, those years are more like being dropped in many oceans with concrete boots on!
The first few days of the ‘workshop’ were, how do l put this? Highly stimulative! Exceedingly so! I was like a child in a candy store surrounded by a bounty of sweeties and a penny in my pocket! Clare had bought me a pair of ‘trunk jockeys’ which are a bit like a female thong but with an extra bit. Initially l thought she was being overly optimistic, however l soon came to realise that perhaps she had been right afterall. But l did feel somewhat bizarrely stupid in these things that showed my arse off to the world, well my bare buttocks anyway, and in my eyes the only thing missing on them was a pair of dumbo ears! Clare did say that sex shops sold those elephant ones and if l wanted she would get me a pair?
I kindly declined her offer.
Mostly the workshops we were involved in the first few days were breathing exercises, stamina build ups and also a form of comfort with your body awareness. When l say comfort it’s more of a manner of taking you to the edge of discomfort, but not fully. You had to talk of your preferences, your inadequacies, your blunders, your ‘achievements’ and so on to a group of people – talking about your sexuality and sensuality awareness to as many as thirty people, who you had never met before.
It takes courage to speak to strangers like that, to open up without laughing your socks off at the same time. But it was also empowering as an experience and something which l felt that l was able to use as a growing tool, no pun intended!
I don’t think many people would openly accept that kind of discussion into their lives and more so as we still live in a society that sees sex as a taboo subject, when it shouldn’t be. But you were to talk on relationships and how you viewed them, and thinking on it perhaps as l blog today and with my readership l am totally honest and to a very close percentage of 100% I don’t tend to hide a lot away, because l personally believe that if you want people to understand you, then they need to feel some kind resonation with you, a relatability of sorts. “Oh l know what you mean”, or “Yes that’s it exactly!” sort of thing. The days at Camp Tantra in many ways helped my writing as they allowed me to really explore myself in a way that life wasn’t allowing me to do.
They allowed me to connect with myself in a very unique way, as well as connecting with my partner in a way of unity, the credo being all you can be as you, and all you can be as us.
So whilst there was always fun, frolics and mishaps [the latter being me], there was also this overwhelming sensation of intimate and personal development, which was truly beautiful, as corny as that may read.
However, that aside, two events are to be discussed today .. community mud wrestling and watersporting as in naked canoeing!
Mud Glorious Mud
I don’t think there is anything particularly strange about me, in certain areas, or maybe there is, but l have a real thing about touching, as in l like to be touched and l like to touch, but also l have a real things about sensations with things. I mean, as a child l was always being told off for touching things l shouldn’t touch, but if it had an unsual feeling or emotion attached to it, l couldn’t help repeating the offense. I mean we are all guilty of that to a certain degree, all of us.
People love bubble wrap, they like the sensation of popping those pesky bubbles, others like the feel of water on their skin, others like to be really hot, and still more like to be wet. Many people adore touching fabrics and get turned on when certain fabrics touch their skin. There is an entire industry out there constantly open and waiting to be exploited by newcomers to the likes of fetish.
Am l prone to fetish? Maybe l am, l even wrote a poem about it so sure, why not. Are they bizarre? My fetishes? I don’t know, l don’t think so … l think everyone has a fetish of some sort or another as to whether they recognise it as such who knows. We are back into this realm of ‘taboo’ for some folks, they don’t like to discuss it …… out aloud!
I discovered that in addition to water on my skin which is a huge turn on, so too was mud which was really strange as a sensation not just on my feet, but all over me. I was very tempted to engage in the finer art of nude mud wrestling, but Clare said NO! “Rory it’s one thing to have sand in your cracks but trust me on this, the last thing you need is drying mud in there!!”
So l trusted her, and judging by all the groans from other people after the event when the sun started to ‘restrict’ on and in their bodies, they certainly felt the unsual and hardly satifying joys of baked bits!
But as to the ‘community mud wrestling’, that was great, and that is when l discovered my fetish with mud. Mud on my body and mud on other bodies has a real deeply satifying sensation attached to it. I can’t stand walking on certain surfaces barefoot, but found bareback in mud was just to die for! Now l am not talking ‘oh it’s rained and there’s some mud on the ground’ type of mud, l am talking custard consistency type of mud at shin depth and a huge pool of it!
‘Thong Boy’ as l was called as a handle, was very intrigued by it all. The only annoyance was having an erection for the first ten minutes which l considered quite the hindrance, but when you get clobbered a couple of times there, it learns to stay down like a naughty dog!
As an experience, l tell you now, if someone says’ Are you up for some semi naked mud wrestling?” Take it up, it’s one you can tick off the bucket list! Golden Tip? Shower quickly if outside in the sun! Reemember it’s mud wrestling, not the scene from Ghost!
Keep it in your Pants!!
Clare and l agreed to go canoeing on one of the afternoons after the workshop had finished with a group from the camp itself. It was all in house activities so we made good use of the lake facilities whilst we were there. We were pretty lucky with the weather, it only rained once, otherwise the weather was seriously warm and great fun.
Now l am not sure how l would fare canoeing these days, l am not as agile as l used to be, and my balance has somehow got shot to ribbons over the years and more so in my 40’s and 50’s. I am sometimes surprised l can actually walk in a straight line without falling over and as for my sense of direction, someone once remarked l can get lost going around a corner and they weren’t really exaggerating a great deal sadly!
However in my later twenties, l was more in my prime of life than l am now, so keeping balance was pretty good, not superb, but way better than now! Luckily l used to enjoy a lot of water sports when l was scouting with more in the days of my venture scouting. For canoeing you need a certain amount of balance, not greatly, but sufficiently enough to get you in and out of a boat in water and enough to keep your boat actually upright once in. The canoes we were to be using we not single manned but more of the shape and size similiar to that of Indian canoes, as in there were four of us in each boat!
Sounds simple enough doesn’t it? Sure what’s wrong with what l have just written? Well the rest of my crew were naked, so there was Clare, and myself, and another couple, however as this was still in the early part of the week, Clare had advised me to wear my elephant trunk jockeys as l had a small problem containing my pleasure at meeting new people, especially if they were females! So for my own protection l was to keep Mr Willie strapped up and in! This however proved to be my downfall and caused me to capsize my boat and crew mates!
It was both my job and the other fellows’ job to actually paddle, and Clare and the other lass were sitting inbetween us. The problems, or rather the biggest problem were a few fold … 1] l was used to canoeing mostly as a single paddler, 2] l wasn’t used to canoeing in a jockey thong on a wooden seat and 3] l was most assuredly not used to having passengers and another paddler that were naked and more importantly 4] that two of the four of us were large breasted and drop dead gorgeous and l am not referring to the other bloke!!
Everything went smoothly getting in and setting off, however l was still getting used to this damn bare assed jockey thing and as l shifted around l got a splinter in my bottom and judging by the unpleasantness it was relatively large, so l started to squirm and shift my weight accordingly which is when l got my second splinter and let out a yelp which caused the occupants to look around at me and laugh! Clare asked me for the paddle so l could sort myself out, but some how as l was passing it to her it got entangled in my thong .. no don’t ask, well ok, if you must!
I was trying to remove the splinter with my paddle hand with the oar handle still attached and Clare took the thing from me, and that is when it got snagged up into the damn trunky part, which gave me a whack which really hurt and l snatched the end back and then accidentally it got caught in the fabric between my thigh and slipped into my groin, she pulled and l pulled back, and the paddle part of the oar hit the girl in front who fell forwards into her bloke who lost control of his paddle and he fell out of the canoe, his girlfriend stood up as Clare was telling her to sit down and trying to help me so she suddenly resembled an eagle trying to take off without any fluttering! I suddenly let go of my oar which then meant Clare lost her balance and fell forward into the other girls legs and out she tumbled but as she was falling she grabbed hold of Clare and then Clare in panic grabbed hold of my trunk …….. and that’s when the whole boat just went over!!
Well you asked!!
So that was my naked canoeing adventure over!!
Yes of course we laughed about it later!!