After having attended GNI last year and then going to a PANG meeting/tea dance here, it was only natural to go to the PANG-sponsored gathering. Held at a spacious camp, Ramblewoods, in a place called Darlington in MD – this gathering has a lot of charm and plenty of great guys.
Once again, Carol Channing entertained the troops and wowed them. (Now, you know it isn’t the real Carol I’m talking about, right? Not that she’d be shy about entertaining an auditorium filled with naked men.) There were contests – best buns, best this, best that, etc. An underwear fashion show, and a naked version of Family Feud.
And there was the Mr. Leather East Coast Gathering. This was a much anticipated event for me and Jason because we’d decided beforehand that he should try his hand…? His… well, that he should try. And his competition was stiff (sometimes literally). Like other beauty pageants, there was the requisite parade of contestants, the questions and answer round, and more. Each contestant was good. But Jason was better. And not just in my mind. When it came time to judge, Jason was the choice hands down. He was draped with the sash, and cheered and applauded – wildly. And, like any other celebrity, he was photographed and photographed and photographed.
During the ensuing celebration and cocktail party, an older gentleman, clad in his leather gear approached me and asked if I’d take him for a walk. He handed me his leash and I dutifully took him on his rounds. I have to say that I cam close to disciplining the little bugger as he tried to lift hi leg on several people. Can you even imagine what piss will do to leather? I don’t even want to think about it. But, wearing his jaunty leather cap, he was happy with the walk and satisfied enough to retrieve his leash and walk himself to I-don’t-know-where.
The food was great. But the kitchen staff was better – all Eastern European young men who came to the US for summer work. I’m sure these boys had no idea what they’d be in for when they signed on to be kitchen staff at a summer camp. They probably had visions of families cavorting on green fields. And I’m sure they got some of that. But at least two of their weeks were taken up by nude men frolicking over hill and dale. Buns to the wind, cocks swinging like pendulums. But did these guys show any discomfort? Not one whit. They are cool as cucumbers and let me tell you there were a few whose cucumbers I would love to have seen. Well, more than seen actually but that wasn’t going to be happening in any case.
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