The stars were shining bright in the pitch black African night sky, and sparks from the bonfire that danced up into the dark, accompanied by crackling and hissing, only added to the feeling of vast beauty. Off to the side, guys were turning over various kinds of meat over a barbecue, which they kept calling a braii, the heady aroma filling the air. Men and women, all very skimpily dressed were milling around the braii stand and the roughly made bar. Some couples gyrated to music that a live band was playing, a type of African salsa beat.
In spite of himself, Mark was enjoying the night. Between the music, food, beer and the friendly company, it really was an enjoyable evening.
Two things were bothering him though. The fact that Tsotsi still thought the idea of a cultural evening would be therapeutic was really bothering him. Who did they think he was, after paying all that money, to be appeased by manual labor and a night's entertainment? He could have done all that in New York, in style. Even the manual labor, which would have been simulated in an air conditioned gym.
One thing for certain, though, the relaxation here had certainly worked to get him completely mellow. He was feeling calm, he didn't feel rushed. And his orgasms were really intense now... which brought him to the second niggly thought. After that intense fuck in the afternoon - and the rather strange conversation he had heard just as he was sinking into a deep sleep - he had not seen Jennifer. He had been hoping to have a longer, extended session with her, but she had disappeared when he finally awoke.
Now, that would have been real therapy, he thought, ruefully looking around to see if she had come yet. Nope, she hadn't.
"How are you, Mark?" he heard a deep voice next to him, startling him. A tall, well built man was standing casually with a drink, looking down at him with a smile on his face. He was wearing a loose, white shirt and a loin cloth that barely hid anything, "My name is Ngwane, and you are my guest here."
Mark scrambled to his feet, in spite of himself - Ngwane was imposing in his stature and something about him exuded authority. He was obviously not a pure Swazi, his skin color a creamy brown, and his features a mix of Swazi and Caucasian. He wore his hair close cropped, and, along with his broad shoulders, he looked the part of a Marine.
"Ah, Ngwane," Mark stammered, holding out his hand for a handshake, "Good to meet you."
Ngwane reached out and embraced Mark in a brief hug instead and dropped into a chair, motioning Mark to do the same.
"I understand that you have problems with our program," he said pleasantly enough, just a slight glint of amusement in his eyes.
"Yeah, well," Mark decided to bite the bullet, "Honestly, yes. I had expected therapists and classes of some sort.."
"None of which helped you in the States," Ngwane cut in smoothly, "So you may want to try something a little different." He held up his hand to quieten Mark, "Give me a chance to make a difference in your life. When you applied to come here, we asked you an extensive list of questions, right?"
Mark nodded, remembering all too well the list of questions.
"Well, we picked the program for you, based on those questions," Ngwane then grinned, "You might say that we picked you because you were right for the program. My dear friend, your problem is that your core, your innermost soul is confused. You let money and work rule your life when you should be ruling it. Now you should start taking back control of your life, allow your soul to be aligned again."
"With all due respect," Mark responded, "This sounds like a bunch of feel good motivational talk."
"Tell me," Ngwane said quietly, looking at him,"All the work in the fields, the slow methodical digging - do you know why you are mentally relaxed at the end of it? It is slow and you are in control of it. Unlike your computers at work that drive you, here, you drive the work. Your soul has a chance to catch up.
"But tonight, I want to show you what you're losing in sex..." Ngwane's voice had become low, almost gluttural suddenly, and Mark twisted to look at him. By Ngwane's side was the woman that he had seen with Jennifer earlier that day. She was wrapped, like most of the women there, in a one piece cotton cloth that left her shoulders and most of her legs bare. Her hair, covered in beaded braids, fell to her shoulders and made a faint rattling noise as she moved.
"See, for you, Mark," Ngwane said, his eyes hungry for the woman who was just as hungry and had reached out to run her hand through his hair, "For you sex is all about your own pleasure, that one orgasm. And you have let it control your soul instead of the other way round." He reached out to the woman and pulled her down to him, and said simply, "This is Nombi."
Mark watched, his mouth slightly agape, as Ngwane, sitting with his legs apart, kissed Nombi passionately, his hands moving over the wrap with abandon. Their eyes locked as they kept kissing, lips and tongues hungry for each other. Ngwane's loin cloth slowly moved aside he got aroused, his thick, tanned cock starting to rise, and within a few moments was fully erect, long and hard. He was cut, and the cock head was swollen, the tight skin reflecting the flames. With a groan, he rolled off the seat and onto the ground, pulling her with him, still kissing her, though the hunger had clearly moved away from the lips. With a swift movement, he pulled the wrap off Nombi and Mark gasped at the beautiful body - she was naked. Her nipples, on the small and perky breasts, were hard. With another moan, Ngwane kissed her lips again and then moved down to her breasts, and then licked her nipples, then tugged at one with his lips while playing with the other. A low moan escaped Nombi's lips, and she ran her hand through his hair, pushing his head down to breasts.
"Ever danced the salsa?" Mark was startled out of his voyeurism by a sexy lilt and he spun around to see Thulani sitting on the ground watching the couple making love.
