Roll on Glastonbury and festival sex!
I love music festivals. The mental, head-banging, devil horn bearing metal fests are sometimes a little too much to handle, but it's all good fun. Despite there being tons of sexy rockers at music festivals, I have always followed my personal rule of abstaining from sex when at a festival.
Exchanging phone numbers, saliva and sexy chat is fine in my book, but I won't go any further than that when spending three days on a muddy campsite. Well, I might make an exception for Slash…
The reason why I become a bit of a prude at festivals is down to one thing: personal hygiene. I mean, would you go down on someone after they'd been camping for two-days straight with only piss-strewn portaloos and grimy showers (if they're lucky) to hand? Not only do you run the risk of getting your hands, or tongue, around something stomach churning when getting in on with a random festival fuck buddy, but you also let your sex health guard drop a lot more easily.
Dental dams and condoms seem like the last items on the camping checklist for many people (including many of my friends), even though they should be one of the first if you're sexually active and single. Especially after I tell you about my mate's rather unsavoury experience at last year's V Festival…
My friend (I won't name him just in case he reads this!), feeding off the hysteria and euphoric atmosphere of an outdoor festival, did what nearly everyone else does when they're pissed and horny. He got drunk, danced like a fool and got chatting to a girl. Unlike the rest of my friends and I who were content with a bit of flirting, a quick snog and an exchange of phone numbers, my friend went back to this girl's tent.
Carried away in the heat of the moment, he went down on her. I can still picture his face as he trudged back to where he had left us; his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he tried to dowse his taste buds in something fizzy and acidic to rid him of that 'unwashed' taste. It seems as though his festival fuck buddy didn't find her way to the onsite showers, and if some girls can be that bad when at a festival, imagine what guys are like!
The next morning my friend woke up with a nasty taste in his mouth from his little sojourn southward. To add insult to injury, a few days later he was diagnosed with a case of oral thrush. His gums and tongue were inflamed and sore, but that was nothing compared to the ribbing he got from those of us who knew the real reason behind his 'sore throat.'
Despite real-life stories such as what happened to my friend, people are still going at it like rabbits when it comes to festival shagging. I've just got back from a festival (you can probably guess which one) and the amount of people getting more than a little bit jiggy was insane.
I don't know whether it was the effects of booze, pounding music and those dodgy magic mushrooms making the rounds, or whether the exhibitionist streak in all of us becomes overpowering in front of big crowds, but I saw a couple practically wanking each other off by the side of a hotdog van; a guy fingering a girl who was jumping up and down in front of him in a mosh pit, and another couple having sex in a cubicle in the Ladies toilets of the VIP area.
So, for all you brave people who are not perturbed by a bit of genital filth or a bad case of furry teeth, I salute you! But there's still no way in hell I'll be zipping my sleeping bag together with another one on next year's festival circuit…