Gays in the Woods

The orgy on the floor before dinner failed to shock me as much as when, a couple hours earlier, I'd found myself in the middle of the forest cutting down a mighty tree. Hacking away at the three-story redwood in the Mendocino wilderness, I had felt a kind of trepidation I hadn't experienced since high school PE. My life as a gay man in San Francisco had always felt relatively safe; I had never considered living anywhere else. But now, there I was channeling an inner lumberjack that I'd never known was inside of me. I felt much more natural sitting courtside at the orgy, trying to spot the most well-endowed guy through the flickering candlelight.