On the Road to Woodstock -part fourteen

I watched the people slide down the muddy hill for another five or ten minutes, and then I moved on down the path. The rain still came down hard but was letting up. I was past the stage and in an area I had not seen before. I was on the other side of the stage from where John and I had been the day before, and I noticed a lot of people going and in and out of a path into a wooded area.

There was a small trail leading into the woods, and I followed a couple of guys that were going in. The rain had slowed until it was only a light drizzle, and the trees provided an extra cover from its fall.

I reached a clearing, and it became apparent that all sorts of drugs were being sold. It was an open market, and there were perhaps a dozen dealers, maybe more, and most had makeshift tents set up. I walked around and checked out the wares.

There were ounces of pot for twenty dollars and grams of hash for eight. Acid was going for four dollars a hit, and there were at least three different kinds. There was speed of different types of which I was not familiar. I had done black beauties once, but that was the extent of my experience with uppers. I heard whispers of someone selling junk but I'd never done heroin before. I was curious about it, but I was pretty much just a pot, hash and acid user, and I really liked tripping a lot.

I checked in my pocket to see how much money I had left. I had a ten, a five, and a few ones. I really shouldn't be spending money on drugs, but I couldn't resist. The guy selling Purple Haze seemed to be doing the most business, so I went to him. He had a small tent set up and was sitting inside. His hair was down past his shoulders, and he looked real wide-eyed. I squatted down so I was eye level with him.

He looked at me. "Yeah man, how many you want?"

"Give me two," I said, and handed him the ten-dollar bill.

He took two tabs out of a baggy and went to hand them to me. My hands were wet so I asked him, "Do you have a anything to put them in to keep them dry?"

There was some tinfoil lying about, and he tore off a piece and wrapped the two tabs in it and handed them to me. "Here ya go, man."

I stayed there hunched down on the ground, and the guy asked me, "Was there something else?"

"They're four dollars apiece, right?"

"Yeah man, four dollars."

"Well, I gave you a ten."

"Oh man, I'm sorry," he said. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of money and got two ones out. "Here ya go." He handed me the bills.

"All right," I said, "thanks." I stood up with the tinfoil packet in one hand and the two dollars in the other. There was a guy waiting behind me to cop, so I stepped away from the tent. I wrapped the tinfoil inside the dollar bills and lifted my poncho up and stuffed them down in my front jeans pocket.

My heart was beating fast. I was really looking forward to taking some acid, but at the same time I was wondering if I should've bought it in the first place. I felt as if I had set myself on a path of which I had no control. My situation was dire enough. Would tripping make my circumstances any better? I hoped so.

I made my way out of the woods and started working my way back down the path towards the stage. I kept thinking about the two hits of acid in my pocket, and my heart kept on pounding.

By the time I made it past the stage and to the road that led back to the tent, the rain had stopped and rays of sunshine began to break through the clouds. I took that as a good omen, but I wasn't ready to head back to the tent just yet. The acid was still on my mind.

I pulled the hood of the poncho off my head, and began to continue down the path that John and I had taken the day before. It wasn't long before the cloud cover broke, and it turned into a bright, sunny day again.

I began to get hot under the poncho, so I took it off and shook as much of the water off as I could and then folded it up and carried it under my left arm. I stuck my right hand down in my pocket and felt the dollar bills with the tinfoil packet inside. Though I knew the acid was there, I wanted to check it to make sure it was dry.

I went down by the trailer that John and I had been on Saturday, and I found a grassy spot where I could sit. I unfolded the poncho and sat down on that to keep my butt from getting wet and pulled out the folded up dollar bills from my pocket. I open them up and got the tinfoil out. Opening it up, I saw the two tiny purple tabs of acid, and I felt relieved. They were still dry. I folded everything back up and stuck the dollar bills back into my pocket. I stood up and stuck the poncho back under my arm, and that was when I saw her.

Standing next to the trailer was a girl or young woman--I couldn't tell how old she was for her back was to me-- talking to a priest. She had on a blue mesh top, and as far as I could tell her skin showed through the net-like material. Her wavy red hair cascaded over her shoulders, and my imagination run wild as I thought I might be able to see her breasts through the flimsy material. I walked over to where I could get a better look.

My heart raced again, and my groin began to swell for I found myself staring at two beautiful breasts that were quite visible through her mesh top. I put my hand in my pocket to try to hide my erection.

I tried to be nonchalant as I took turns looking at the priest, at the ground, and back to her breasts. I thought it odd that she would be talking to a priest of all people with her breasts showing like that. The priest himself seemed quite at ease with the situation, as if he were talking to a nun.

She had a cute face, I saw, with freckles, and she continued to talk to the priest as if I were not there. That suited me just fine for if she paid me no attention it would be easier to gaze upon her breasts without seeming overly obvious.

I had seen a few Playboys in my time, and I knew what breasts looked like in a magazine, but this was the first time I had ever seen a pair in real life. As I pretended to follow their conversation, I took my time and stood there for a good fifteen minutes while I spent most of my time gazing at this young woman's wonderful set of mammaries.

This was truly my high point of Woodstock. This made all the cold and heat, wind and rain, and lack of food and water truly worth it. But the show wasn't over yet. I still had two hits of acid, which I planned to share with John and maybe even the girls if they wanted some. And there was Sherry. I still had my hopes up of something happening with her. But still, I had made out with girls before and I had tripped before, but I had never seen a woman's breasts before, and these were round and firm with big nipples just as I'd seen in Playboy.
I hated to leave, but now that the rain had stopped, I was sure that John and the girls would be expecting me back. So with one last good look at those beautiful bosoms, I tore myself away and headed back to the tent feeling great. I felt no matter what happened now, nothing could detract from the wonderful elation I felt from seeing my first set of real breasts.