Good Vibrations Magazine

In the end it’s all about walking around with your cock out. That’s what this Burning Man was about. And I think it saved me.

It all began when I swung my leg over my bike. I heard a small tear happen in the crotch of my very thin, very favorite pants. Whatev, it’s Burning Man. So when Dominic and Reynaldo yanked me from my slumber for our first evening out I put on my slightly torn, very favorite pants.

First we stumbled upon an empty 80’s/90’s dance party. Not a soul. Sensing opportunity, Dominic strutted into the middle of the dance floor clothed in nothing but his signature blue fur shrug, boy shorts, and ankle boots. He struck his best John Travolta pose and within minutes had ignited the dance floor – pure animal magnetism.

We moved on to an art piece made up of large glowing dots arranged in concentric circles. The dots changed colors when you jumped on them. So we jumped, going from one to the other trying not to touch the playa.

As I stretched my legs wide to jump from dot to dot, the tear grew larger and larger. By the time I was done jumping and laughing and bumping into Reynaldo and hearing Dominic exclaim, “Oh God,” the tear ran the entire length of my leg, crotch to ankle.

I was swinging free, open to the world. Oh, what wonder and joy it is to feel the night air on your cock. It was as though the playa was reminding me, or as though I had a large rip in my pants.

The next day Reynaldo borrowed my pants. He stood on the street holding the pants closed waiting for people to pass by. When they looked over Reynaldo would throw the pants open and smile.

At night the air was warm and easy and with nothing better to do I dropped my pants. That’s one of the beauties of Burning Man; often there is nothing better to do than exactly what you are doing.

To be clear, I was not shirt cocking. I took my shirt off as well.  I did, however, have my moccasins on. Thus I invented moccasin cocking. I highly recommend it.

Reynaldo dropped his pants as well. He was straight up boot cocking. Side by side we walked through the desert night, a couple of cocked up angels. Dominic declined to join because he’s self-conscious about his small balls. But our friend Millstein dropped trou with us. Reynaldo complimented him on his large package.

I must admit, I do not know how to tell how big a penis will become when it is in it’s flaccid state. I know there are growers and show-ers. But how much will a grower grow, and how much does a show-er show? I honestly do not know.

When we came to crowds or lights we put our pants back on. That way we could talk to people and hear all the craziness. If we had kept our pants off we would have been the crazies.

At the tripper trap, an art piece of little balls that light up different colors in different patterns thus trapping people who are tripping balls, we appeared normal enough to meet a woman named Wendy. She told us about her two kids, aged 18 and 20.

“I was the cool Mom,” she said. “I let them have the parties at my house. I was the local MILF. My kid’s friends would come over and, you know, I started sleeping with some of the 18-year-olds. They were energetic. That was fun.”

Reynaldo, Dominic, Millstein and I all checked in to be sure we heard right.

Later, on an art car, I passed as normal to have a conversation with a girl done up in a white Grecian dress and sandals. “Oh my god, I’m so high,” she said.

“On what?”

“On life… And a little bit of e.”

She was in love but it was a love that couldn’t be. Why’s that? Because he was in jail. What for? Rape.

“It’s doomed love,” she said. “But it’s romantic.” She was from Sacramento.

We walked past one couple without our pants on but it was dark enough that they didn’t notice. We got to hear them say, “Aren’t we amazing? We are so amazing. I mean, look at all this. None of this would exist without us. We are so amazing. I love being amazing.”

We walked on, Reynaldo and I swinging sexy. Then our drugs went intense and we launched ourselves into the overwrought sexy dancing dome. Millstein was there feeling the buzz. Poor Dominic was on acid and had a look of horror on his face.

High on G Reynaldo and I went and danced in the shadow boxes, projecting as perfect silhouettes. We kept our pants on. It would have a looked a little funny with them down, a silhouette of our bouncing dongs. But with our pants on it was, as Reynaldo put it, like dancing as an idealized self.

With the two of us in the shadow boxes we took our pants-down-cock-out energy and gave it to the dome. At Burning Man that’s a public service.

That night I fell into my tent and tried to fall asleep but my stomach hurt. A while later I was on all fours, head against the bumper of a cargo van, pants on, trying to empty my stomach while listening to the gaiety going on all around me.

I was remembering every loss I’d experienced, feeling lonely, sick, raw, tired, miserable. The Playa had broken me down and spit me out.  And Misty had stayed home this year. I had playa dust under my nails.

The next morning Dominic and Reynaldo listened to me as I talked about all I felt I had lost, about my shadow of loneliness, about trying to survive the night in the dark of the desert. They listened to my tears and how, when I dance at dawn, all of those feelings disappear. I rise with the sun.

And so Dominic and Reynaldo determined to stay awake with me till dawn on our last night. To that end they took copious amounts of drugs. I was still wobbly. It was windy and the night was full of dust. Everywhere we went seemed less than inspired. We couldn’t even take off our pants.

We ended up back at the sexy dance dome. Dancing felt good. Dominic and Reynaldo were chilling on a lounge, watching me. I told them they should go to Comfort and Joy for the party that was happening that night. That’s why were such good Playa mates, no need to stick. I stayed and danced alone. I felt the freedom of moving in all that space and felt alive.

I walked back to camp to get some water. The wind had died down and the night was beautiful. I took down my pants and swung in the air. Walking alone in the desert with my cock out, protected from the revelry by the darkness, it felt peaceful.

I moved across the desert to my favorite dawn spot at Opulent Temple and began to dance. And there was Millstein. We had agreed to meet here but this was the first plan all week that had actually happened. Millstein and I danced through the dawn.

Then we wandered out into the desert, faced the rising sun, and one last time we pulled down our pants. I swear you could feel love at that moment as easily as gravity. Sometimes, the cock saves.