Men of the New Moon

The Night of the New Moon, Millside Falls, MN, October, 24, 1946 Thu 06:30 PM 

This time of year, the sun sets about 5:30 pm, almost an hour ago. Now it was completely dark. The night of the new moon.

There are some things that are never spoken about. Never should be spoken about, let alone written down and read by generations of people afterward. They just wouldn't understand. No. How could they? They weren’t a part of it. They were brought up that way, not in the twenty-first century. But this was an earlier time. A simpler, more innocent time. A time when men followed their traditions taught to them by their fathers and grandfathers. Accepted as the way things are and what we have always done to survive in this cruel, treacherous world. Tonight was a sacred night, a night honored for centuries, by men who had a duty to perform and came together as a brotherhood of neighbors and countrymen, supporting each other in their daily life. But tonight wasn’t just about the daily humdrum of things. No, it had deep implications for their future. Their families depended on them. Their future prosperity as a community depended on it. And so the men prepared themselves and came together on this sacred night in the darkness.

It was Derrick’s turn to host the men this month. This time it was really important everything went just right. It is the first such night since the war began. It is the first such night when all the men have come home safe and sound from the war. Every last one of them. It had to be set up just right, according to the strict rules set forth by the forebears, centuries before. Derrick’s son, Gerald, got all the accouterments together for him. Gerry was best buds with Lucas Rasmussen son of the farmer who held the meeting last time, which was over five years ago now. That made it easy enough to drop by his farm yesterday and get everything Derrick needed for tonight.

Derrick went around the back of the house and opened the hatchway door that opened to a dark, stone staircase going down to their meeting room. He descended down the stairs slowly, lighting the lamps on the wall as he went. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he wasn’t too keen on wandering around down there in the dark. It was only a bit after supper so he had plenty of time to get things all set up. None of the men would get here for another hour or so at best.

The room had been converted for this purpose from an old root cellar. He and his father enlarged it after a disastrous twister nearly took out the whole farm back in the twenties. It was big enough for the whole family to hide safely down here if one of them tornadoes ever came back. That’s why their meeting rotated each time to the four members who were farmers cuz they all had a similar setup on their properties, just like Derrick did. Most were located off the barn or some other outbuilding. But since Derrick’s been alone these last dozen years or so, his wife dying of cancer back in ‘34, it was easy enough for him to keep using the one by the house. There was no one there to bother them. It was easier than making a new setup out by the barn.

The first thing he did was sweep any cobwebs away. Then we went after the floor and dusted the benches and the circular table in the middle. He got the wax out for those. He wanted them to gleam in the torchlight of their ceremony. As he scrubbed and polished, Derrick began to sweat something fierce. ‘Stupid dumb-fuck-idiot!’ he grumbled to himself when he realized he hadn’t opened the air hatch. He set his polishing cloth down and started to climb the stairs again.

“You need anything, Grandad?” That from his grandson, Soren. He stood near the top of the stairs in a pair of sweaty gym shorts and nothing else. The young man was built more like his grandad than his father. He stood about six foot three, blonde-haired, blue-eyed like all the men in the family were. But Soren had the broad shoulders Derrick had with the same thick hairless chest, making his pectorals seem even larger. Unlike Derrick, however, he slimmed right down to a very narrow waist, before his thick quads bulged out flashing those work-horse legs of his.

Derrick smiled and removed his hat. Then wiped his brow with his handkerchief. “I think I’ve got what I need for now. Just cleaning the place up before I bring the vessels down.”

“I can help you clean, Grandad,” Soren offered.

“No need. I’m almost done.” Then Derrick chuckled as he admitted, “Forgot to open up the air shaft. Got mighty hot down there before I remembered.”

Soren joined in the laughter. “Don’t worry about it Grandad, I'll take care of that.”

“Good. Good,” said Derrick with distraction. Then he realized something else Soren could do for him. “Here’s something else you can do for me, Soren. First set up the flags out by the road, then by the barn, and over here by the entrance. Then if you could set out the robes over in the barn that would be terrific.”

“Sure I can do that.”

Before Soren got too far away, Derrick called after him, “You know how to set out the robes don’t you?”

“Sure do, Grandad. By height.”

“That’s right. That’s right,” Derrick called back to him. ‘That boy’s got some smarts. Not like his knuckle-headed father.’

The guys coming together tonight called themselves the “Men of the Moon.” They were just a bunch of horny married guys from all around the county with nothing better to do. On these nights, they all told their wives they were going here or there to play cards or go fishing at night, or some such story. The wives all figured it was just an excuse to go out and get drunk. None of them cared. At least they weren’t drinking at home and causing all kinds of hell. But it was really much more serious than that. At least these men thought so.

This was a longstanding tradition going back generations. It was a common ritual brought here from the old country back in the 1840s. It was built on ancient lore and superstition about how the gods took care of their people. It carried enough weight to promise safety during real catastrophes and also prosperity at the annual harvest time. And, one had to admit, brought incredible personal pleasure to the men participating. These men, taught by their fathers and grandfathers, who taught them as well, all believed that if this biannual ritual stopped now, it would bring the worst kind of bad luck reigning down terror on them all. Who knew what or when might that be? Having just come safely through the second war, no one wanted to risk the wrath of the gods now.

It was dark now, and the men slowly began to arrive. The cars and trucks came slowly down the drive and parked in various hidden spots around the property and its outbuildings. Some even rode their horses and stabled them. And still a few who lived closer walked the several miles from their farms. They made their way to the dimly lit barn where Soren had carefully placed the robes making it easy for them to find one that fit, in the dark. You see the ritual was meant to be carried out anonymously. Thus the need for the robe and the ornate masks that would cover their bodies and faces.

Before leaving their vehicles, each man undressed, leaving his clothes inside it, so that he could find them easily enough at the end of things. Those who walked or rode on horseback simply left their garments in the trees nearby. After stashing their clothes, they walked naked, under the cover of darkness, to the barn where they would dress in their ritual garments. The robes were loose-fitting in deep colors of royal purple, deep blue, forest green, blood red, dark ocher, and of course white. The colors designated each man’s station and rank in the ritual. He knew his color and where to find it and dressed silently. He brought his own mask, which was expertly crafted to fit carefully, molded to the shape of his face. Then he pulled the hood of the robe over his head and moved into the line that had formed, making their way to the underground assembly room.

As they entered, the room blazed with the torchlight that surrounded them. The line formed a circle around a carved wooden pedestal, atop which lay a honed stone basin about six feet in diameter. A compass was carved into the bottom of the bowl, letting the men know where they should stand. As the line continued circling the basin, each man stopped at his designated position until finally, everyone was in place. The leader of their group, called The Guardian, stood at the northmost point of the circle and waited until everyone was in place. When everything was still and quiet, he addressed them.

“Välkomna mina bröder till denna heliga natt av firande när vi väntar på månens växande ljus.” He spoke in the Swedish dialect, common among their forebears, one they had all learned as children. “Welcome my Brothers, to this sacred night of celebration, as we await the growing light of the new moon.” He stretched out his arms and smiled at the man on either side of him, his signal to begin. The circle tightened as the men reached out, like the Guardian did, and surrounded each other with arms draped across each man’s shoulders, pulling every man in tightly. The Guardian bent at his waist, lowering his head to the edge of the basin in the center of the circle. The men followed his example. The Guardian began to chant in the ancient tongue, a low mumbling song of sorts, invoking the gods of strength who had power over their lives, granting to all good and faithful men fertile lands with abundant harvests, for health, wealth, and prosperity for themselves and their families. Many of the younger men didn’t understand what he was saying exactly but listened and followed along.

When the Guardian finished his chanting, five men wearing white robes, extinguished the torches behind them. There was still a brazier lit in a bricked alcove giving off a dim light. A large steaming kettle of water sat atop it. As their eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness of the room, the older men, who knew the custom, began a low humming chant-like sound. They reached inside their robes and began to slowly rub the palm of their hands over their chests. It didn’t take long for every man to follow suit. Their robes began to open as the caressing of their bodies became more vigorous. The chanting slowly turned into low moans of pleasure. The Guardian and five men in white reached out their left hand into the folds of their neighbor’s robe. They ran their palms across the man’s chest, slowly lowering it until they felt the base of his manhood. If the state of that manhood was aroused, the hand circled it and stroked him. If it was not yet engorged, the hand slid underneath it, caressing his scrotum and playing with his testicles.

At the point when all the men were fully engorged with their neighbor’s hand encouraging his pleasure, the Guardian stepped forward and laid his huge, bulbous, cock on the edge of the basin. He took hold of himself and thwapped it on the edge three times. The other men followed suit. Then the Guardian lifted his loosened ball sack up as well so that his entire genitalia lay there prominently for all the men to see. The men in white called out a chant and the rest of the men repeated it. Then each man followed the example of their Guardian laying himself out there for all to see.

No man wanted to admit it, but he felt great pleasure while displaying what the gods had blessed him with. He’d touch, stroke, and pull on his parts, ensuring that his phallus showed itself at its best. He also would never admit to anyone, the added pleasure he felt knowing he was in a room full of twenty-nine men all in the same state as he was. He marveled at their differences. The overall shape, the girth, the skin covering the crown, or that there was no skin there. Some men pulsed their cocks so that they bounced off the basin’s edge. That caused several smiles and a few chuckles. And the fact that each man was masked, no one quite knew which genitalia belonged to which man.

Now the Guardian took the hand of the man on his left and placed it back on his cock. He swiveled his hips and brought the other man’s hands up to his chest. They began stroking his body and his cock and scrotum, pushing back his robe as they did so giving them greater access to his god-like body.  By doing so they gave a much better view to the rest of the men of the exquisite, muscular, shapely body of their Guardian. The signal was given for the rest of the men to follow suit. So they paired off facing each other and unabashedly began to run their hands all over the other man’s body. Of course giving prominent attention to his cock, mostly to satisfy one’s curiosity, having rarely done this, and probably never to this particular man.

The five men in white removed their robes and moved around the circle, sliding the robes off each man’s shoulders. When each man in the pair had removed his robe, he stood awkwardly naked facing the other man for a split second. Each eying the other taking in all that was there in front of him. Then the formally white-robed men, pushed the pair together, chest to chest, abdomen to abdomen, which also meant cock to cock. 

This was Pete’s first time to one of these… whatever they were called. His Dad had told him he must come, now that he was home from the war and had recently married his gal, but would give him no other details. “Just do what all the other guys do or what someone tells you to do.” That was all he said. Now he was standing here, naked, facing another man, who was also naked. 

Pete stood about six feet tall, the other man maybe an inch taller. Pete was smooth-bodies with crystal blue eyes, though he doubted the other man could see them. The other guy has reddish-blonde hair, sparse on top but long and very curly around the side. There was also a bit of those curls in the middle of his chest and the small trail running right down to his groin, from which emerged a fat-nobbed prick. Pete kept trying to hide his own hard cock, trying unsuccessfully to hide it down between his legs. He had never been in this state before with anyone but his bride, and even that was something new to him. And here was this mature guy, he had some gray pubes, that’s how Pete figured that out, who had probably been to many of these… whatever they were. And man oh man that guy’s cock was sticking straight up with his pee-hole smiling up at him. Pete didn’t know what to do. Luckily Pete's face was covered by this damn, blasted mask so this guy couldn't see his red-faced embarrassment as his cock throbbed as it poked out to say howdy to this other guy.

The guy reached out and pushed Pete’s hand away from his crotch. He said in a deep voice, “Don’t hide it, man. Show it off.” When Pete’s cock bounced up and slapped his belly the guy said, “That’s it. Show me how much of a man you are.” Pete looked down and absent-mindedly tried to access how he compared to this guy. But knowing what Pete had going on in his head, the guy said, “None of that.” His hand whipped up and raised Pete’s chin so they could see each other eye to eye. It was the first time Pete could actually see this guy's dark brown eyes smiling back at him.

“All cocks are beautiful, man. Yours, mine. Every man in here.” And without another word, the guy pulled Pete up close, chest to chest, and wrapped his arms tightly around him. His hips flexed, side to side, and up and down. ‘Oh my god, he rubbing his prick on me!’ Pete shouted in his own head. Then he felt the hardness right next to his own cock. His prick was so hot against his flesh. The friction of their bodies was bringing Pete awfully close to spewing his spunk all over this guy. He thought to himself, ‘I don’t think that’s what’s supposed to happen.’ So he pulled back a little.

The guy smiled and said, “You don’t like how this feels?”

“Sorry, man,” Pete apologized softly, “but it feels a little too good.”

“Well if it does, my man, let it go. It’s ok with me,” the guy said encouraging Pete. “Splash your juice all over my belly." Pete froze. Feeling his body stiffen up, the guy went on casually saying, "You know you’re going to have several more of those spurts as this thing goes on. I’m sure of it.” Having said that, he pulled Pete in tight again, rubbing his cock up and down Pete’s abs enjoying the feel of this younger man’s musculature.

The slight break in the action helped Pete calm down a bit as the man started really rubbing on him. He looked over the guy’s shoulders and noticed for the first time, that several men among them were in the throes of orgasm like he was a moment ago. One man had gotten down on his knees licking the other man’s abdomen, and… “Oh my god,” squealed Pete unexpectedly, “He’s licking it clean!”

His partner turned their bodies on one go to have a look and chuckled. “This is your first time here isn’t it?” Pete couldn’t speak. He just nodded his head. “Don’t worry about a thing. Just have a good time. Enjoy how it feels.”

But before they could do anything more, there was a shrill whistle that got everyone’s attention. Without another word, all the men faced one direction and tightened the circle so that every man faced the backside of the man in front of him. Pete’s buddy got really close, closer than Pete was comfortable with, and put his arms over Pete’s shoulders. Then he whispered into Pete’s ear, “Do what I’m doing to you to the guy in front of you. Got that?” Pete nodded and threw his arms over the guy's shoulders in front of him and pulled him up close. That guy was a few inches shorter but his shoulders were thick muscled and much broader than his own. Pete actually liked the feel of him. Though he could never say that to anyone.

Pete’s buddy pulled in so close now that Pete could feel something hard pressing against his butt. Since Pete’s whole body was covered in a light film of sweat that hard thing, whatever it was, pushed easily between Pete’s sweaty butt cheeks. After a few moments of that, Pete squealed again when he realized what it was sliding up and down his gluts. 'This guy's got his dick rubbing on my butt!' he thought. Then the guy started humping him, pushing Pete up against the man in front of him and before he knew it he could feel his sweaty hard muscles clenching Pete's own hard prick too. As he felt the guy behind him slide up and down he thought, ‘He told me to do what he was doing so… I guess…’ And Pete pulsed his hips up and down and let his cock slide up and down between those gloriously bulbous ass cheeks too. That sure felt a whole lot better than Pete thought it should.

“It’s time, men,” shouted the deep resonant voice of the Guardian. Pete looked up at the naked Guardian. The man that had been standing next to him was now bent over the side of the basin. His prick pointed right down into it. Pete couldn’t tell exactly what happened next. All he could see was the Guardian seemed to be pushing him into the table. ‘Wonder why he’s doing that?’ Pete thought.

The guy behind Pete whispered in his ear, “Spit on your cock. Get it good and wet.”

“What for?” asked Pete turning his head to see the guy.

“Just do it!” the guy said impatiently.

Pete backed up to get a hold of his dick so he could spit on it and as he did so he felt something poke him. He stiffened and clenched his butt. The guy said, “Relax. And don’t move.” There it was again. “Your dick wet?” the guy asked.

“Yeah, why?” Pete asked.

“Step up close to that guy in front of you like before. Get right up close to him.”

Pete followed his direction and let his cock press deeply between those huge muscled mounds. The guy in front of him bent at the waist, just a little, giving Pete's cock full access to the crevice between his cheeks. Then the guy took hold of Pete’s dick and backed up against it. Pete couldn’t figure out what the guy was doing… “Oh god. What’s that?” Pete's cock hit something hard and wet. But the guy in front of wiggled his butt all around and suddenly, Pete’s prick pushed right through something tight into something incredibly hot and slippery. Then before he could figure out what was going on and before he could really get started enjoying that pleasure, he felt a hard poke in his own backside and a loud, “Relax. Take a deep breath,” shouted in his ear.

Suddenly his asshole was on fire. He let out a scream. As he jolted forward, he realized his cock was again surrounded by that incredible heat and moisture. Then the light bulb went off in his head. My guy has his cock up my asshole and I have my prick in down this dude’s shoot. “Oh my fricking god!” he squealed as he took in the sensations.

The guy behind Pete grabbed his hips and shoved himself up in there good. “Do it to your guy,” he commanded. Pete did as he was told, Once he had his narrow bony hips in hand, he started rutting like there was no tomorrow. The only thing that mattered was that his hungry cock got the satisfaction he’s been waiting for. ‘Who knew I'd get it here with my cock up some guy’s ass and a dick wedged deep inside mine.’

There was another loud shout to all the men present. “When your ready, men. We need as much as you can give us.”

About two seconds after that the guy in front of Pete pulled away from him and edged over to the basin. Pete watched as this guy sprayed ropes of seed in stripes across the basin. There were at least a half-doxen other guys doing the same thing. The guy behind Pete turned them both toward the basin. The guy leaned up Pete’s back, cock still sliding in and out of him, and said, “I’m going to keep fucking you until you shoot your load in there, just like him. Got it?” Pete nodded. “Good.” 

The guy rammed his ass with an abandon Pete didn’t know was possible, never mind one he'd enjoy. Suddenly there was a thing.. “Ooof.” Pete had never felt that before. He didn’t know what it was. “Ooof.” There it was again. Then suddenly with every thrust into him, the guy hit that same spot again and again and again. ‘Oh god,” Pete squealed. His sphincter clenched the guy and the guy knew what was happening, though Pete had no clue. Pete didn’t think it was possible but the guy’s thrusts became even more intense until finally, his body released a flood of sperm shooting out of his dick. He couldn’t stop squirting. It felt like lightning bolts shooting through his body and coming out of his cock. He still hadn’t stopped when all of a sudden he felt an emptiness in his gut. “What the…” Then he felt the guy standing next to him, his body all hot and sweaty, with his arm wrapped around Pete’s shoulder pulling him in tight. He wailed as he released his seed into the basin. Splash after splash, marking the far side of the bowl. Just like Pete, his orgasm last longer and produced more sperm than Pete thought possible,

In his peripheral vision, Pete realized all the men in the entire group were now standing around the basin shooting their spunk into it. Grunt and groans of orgasmic ecstasy filled the chamber. His guy finally straightened and gave Pete a goofy grin then he leaned in and wrapped his arms around Pete’s sweat-soaked body. “You did pretty good for your first time here, man. You had fun didn't you.”

Before Pete could respond, the men in white were robed again and motioned everyone to step back from the basic. One of the men held the large bucket of water from the brazier up on his shoulder. When the basin was cleared he poured it all around the edges washing the stripes of sperm down into a hot pool in the center. Another man in white stepped forward with a large ladle, while a third and fourth distributed small flattish bowls to all the naked men. Two lines formed as the men filed toward the man with the ladle and received a cup full of the warm diluted seed. Then they returned to their spot around the basin.

When every man had a bowl in his two hands, the Guardian said in a loud resonant voice, “Each of us is a god, a being responsible for the ongoing cycle of life on this planet. The gods above have gifted us, and every man, with the gift of sacred seed to be fruitful and spread our seed plentifully. We must take care of these bodies of ours, men. These sacred vessels produce life-giving seeds. And by our sharing our sacred seed with one another, each man, in turn, will grow and prosper in as well. With that seed of our brothers in us now tonight, we can continue to nurture what is good and prosperous in ourselves and everyone around us. It is the sacred cycle of life, that tonight, we ensure happens again and again for all time on this earth. Now let us take up these vessels containing the co-mingled seed of all our brothers, given to us by the gods, and drink it. This, for the greater good of all life.” Then he shouted, “To Life!” And everyone exclaimed, “To life!” And drank the entire contents of their bowl. Some men even licked it clean.

*****

The following Friday night, Pete was over at the American Legion, having a few beers with his buddies, all of whom were vets like himself. Once they were on their fourth round, one bud of his, Gerry, who had ranked a lieutenant to Pete’s staff sergeant, asked, “So how was the other night for you?”

“The other night?” Pete asked pretending he didn’t know what Gerry was talking about.

“Jeepers you looked swell in the green getup you had on?” Gerry teased.

Pete got up shoulder to shoulder with Gerry and whispered, “You weren’t there were you?”

With a dramatic nod of the head, Gerry reached down and grabbed Pete’s hand, and pushed it into his groin. “I betcha you remember that baby, doncha kid?”

Pete’s eyes bugged right outa his head. But he sure didn’t let go of the log sporting across Gerry’s trousers. “How’d you know that was me?”

Gerry reached around his buddy and squeezed his butt. “I’ll never forget where I hide my sausage, sergeant.”

“Well, lieutenant,” Pete said as he wrapped an arm around Gerry’s shoulder, “Well maybe I’ll tear off a piece myself.”

Gerry leaned in close, nose to nose, “You can come drill for oil anytime you like, my man. My rig is always open for business.”

*****