A Hippie Fuck Fest: Happy Girth Day!

Hippie Fuck Fest.

Recently, I started reminiscing about my days in New York City. Daydreaming about the fun drives going upstate in the Summer to some of the more nonconformist-type towns. I was triggered by a hot guy with Eddie Vedder hair on Instagram climbing trees and well, just being really hot.  I also may have been binging Outlander and fawning over the hot Scots of the mid-1700s. Anyway, New York is filled to the brim with free spirits. There is a bohemian way of living that a part of me admires and secretly wishes to have (for a Summer.) The idea of tending to the garden, and making clothes from scratch,  is very human and romantic, in an early civilization kind of way. While the generation of free love may have been decades before me, the culture has remained. In short, this is what inspired my plan for a Hippie Fuck Fest.

You Get To Fuck By a Lake (Probably.)

If I had spent more time up there instead of racing to get back to the Big Apple, who knows what I would have discovered! Even during my brief weekend visits for parties and laidback barbecues, there was something magical in the air. When all the devices are turned off and you can stop and smell the patchouli, life is great. Preparing dishes and taking your time is fun. To be able to just enjoy nature and the company you keep, (hippie fuck fest) kind of gets your juices flowing. Any of you currently living this lifestyle are probably familiar with the sensation, and it’s most likely the reason you keep out of big cities. Unfortunately, I love loud music and bars and having several heels to prance around in at any given moment. But, like I said, for a summer it would be nice. Especially fucking by a lake.

A Hippie Fuck Fest Sounds so Tempting. Doesn’t it?

Without having your dings and buzzies going off, you can get to the more important stuff more often, like fucking for example. “Oh, I think I’ll take the compost out to the back. Wait, what’s this? A hot hippie with a joint?” I think yes. I think, right then and there, bang it out under the mulberry trees. Yes, grab a handful of those sweet little inky red fuckers and spread them all over my body. Go down on me and let me see your rough hands grab my thighs. They are nice and dirty from all the gardening you did so I could make supper. HOT. Also, it’s probably good for you because of grounding or whatever. Right? Who cares. It’s steamy and you’re sweating, but when you roll off of me, the trees sound so pretty with the cool breeze that just rolled through.

I Vow for My Next Summer to Be a Hippie Fuck Fest.

My point is that it’s better than some sort of sexy swingers club. Everyone is free to fuck. It’s like a sex co-op. It’s not a club, it’s a way of life. Sharing IS caring, after all. It’s cheap, it’s social, it’s (probably) healthy. The best part is you don’t have to go home in shame later that night. You can all sleep under the mulberry trees. I’ll be there, and I think you know what I’ll be doing.

Dreaming of free love and your own hippie fuck fest?

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