Intercourse in the gorse

Cold and rainy at Loch Broom on the 2013 summer solstice

The summer solstice at location Z: I was concerned about the weather. The forecast for June 21^st at Ullapool, a small town on the east shore of Loch Broom and ferry port to the Isle of Lewis, was for a morning low of 55° F with drizzle with a possible mid-day high of 61° F and overcast, but that was for sea level and Loc Z is at 1500 feet or higher so my guess is that our temps were at least 10° colder. We were in the clouds, it was drizzling and there was a brisk wind across the site. Altogether it was miserable weather for an open air celebration of a sunrise. It was like walking around in a wet muddy refrigerator.  

Not Dissing the Gods: I asked how we were supposed to keep warm and dry during the ceremony. Not for myself as much as for His Grace and the other men who were supposed to ritually breed us. In my experience men have trouble with their erections in cold temperatures even when using a performance enhancing medication. Before we left home I had considered bringing a neoprene wetsuit with a relief zipper, hood, gloves and booties, since I knew Loc Z was on a crag in the highlands. However, on second thought being a fertility offering to the gods on an ancient altar while wearing a modern wetsuit didn’t seem right… like something out of science fiction, but worse it would show a lack of respect on my part.

I needn’t have worried. To walk the few yards from our tent to the altar I was given a deerskin robe and hood and wooden clogs to walk through the mud and gorse roots. The staff of the hunting lodge had a thick pile of deer skin carriage blankets made from entire Red Deer skins sewn together. They were so soft and warm, but quite heavy. I thought in missionary and even when my legs were on my partner’s shoulders most of the weight would be on him so I was ok with that. It turned out that I only had two of the blankets doubled underneath me. In a surprise I wouldn’t have believed if you had told me beforehand the rest were unneeded.

The summit: Our party made the final ascent in the rain on Thursday the 20^th with a tracked ATV pulling a trailer with our camping supplies. The estate staff must have been working all night to get the trail in condition that the ATV could get up it. We had a large tent just off the site in which we all slept, cooked (with bottled gas) and ate. Open fires are not a good idea around gorse as it is quite flammable. Even in such soggy conditions if the gorse catches fire no one knows where a wildfire will stop. The sleeping area was divided by sheets between male and female areas. I don’t think anyone crossed the linen barrier as we all seemed to want to save our lust for the solstice. With the forecast no one really expected to see the sunrise through the observatory’s sun portal.

Sacramental brandy:  His grace had brought along five bottles of what he calls ‘estate mead’ brandy really which is distilled from gorse wine to which is added gorse honey. It tastes like coconut with a hint of vanilla and is extremely potent. Before Jack and I left the dressing tent to walk to the altar in procession His Grace, acting as chief priest (and doing an excellent job of it), privately administered the sacramental wine from an ancient horn cup. I can usually hold my liquor pretty well, but the gorse brandy/mead must be nearly lethal as far as alcohol content is concerned. I almost immediately became far more in tune with our location and was welcomed to the observatory by a nameless gray shape that seemed reassuring. It was pleased that the old ways were being practiced there once again. And with that knowledge my discomfort and trepidation disappeared and I felt that regardless of what happened it was meant to be. I mentioned this later to Jack who said that while he wasn’t visited by the gray eminence a feeling of confidence and wellbeing came over him that allowed him to perform in the cold rain while being watched by spectators.  

Droit du Seigneur: Just before sunrise it was solid clouds, fog really as we were in the clouds and cold drizzle when His Grace led me to the altar. I mounted the primary altar and lay on the folded deer skin robes a few minutes before 6:04 BST when the sun should appear in the solar portal. His Grace performed the purification ritual anointing my breasts and vulva with herbal unguents in front of the rest of the party. Then, in an act of amazing generosity (for him) he relinquished Droit du Seigneur (the right to first penetration of brides, but which the old bull interprets broadly) to Jack who mounted me.

 Sunrise:  Fully penetrated we refused the robes to cover us. I think the temp must have been in the high 40s and I didn’t feel the cold just the amazing completeness I have when Jack’s massive erection fills me. I just seemed to glow and radiate warmth.  Just after he entered me the clouds and fog parted and sun shone briefly through the observatory portal bathing the altar and us in its rays. Everyone cheered and suddenly the distinctive coconut scent of the yellow gorse blossoms seemed overpowering. I took it as an omen and roughly ripple-gripped him to get him off to splatter seed against the stretchy latex membrane of my Reflexions while the sun still shone on us through the stones. The sun was with us for nearly three minutes by the watch of a footman whose job it was to measure the duration should it occur.

Jack is not one troubled by premature ejaculation so when he came after less than four minutes inside me he was upset until I told him I had purposely forced him so he would fill me with sperm while the sun blessed us with its rays. Only then was he reassured that he had performed flawlessly.  Afterward the other couples were ritually purified by His Grace and performed w/o incident. Fortified by the sacramental mead they were able to perform satisfactorily in the cold drizzle and much pleasure was had by all concerned.  We didn’t see the sun again that day, but the sun temple is well and truly in use again.