I regret dear Reader, your correspondent lost both his notebooks and recording devices in a torrential rain event in the field. When found, they had so much silt and mold as to be either nearly illegible or useless. Thus, it required many hours of painstaking drying, powdering, scanning, and typing to read the documents and devices. I am afraid that both the recovery effort and the employment of undergraduate student workers has delayed the publication of the latest installments of Assistant Professor Dee Winderly's research among King Moloko's tribe.
Employing undergraduate students, despite them all being over 18 years of age, proved to be a bit of a challenge. Such overt sexual material and such detail about both an untenured faculty member and her doctoral student landed me twice before the Institutional Review Board to explain. I was able to convince them the reporting was a procedural check on the in situ research of both Associate Professor Winderly and James Doume'(PhD Cand.); I was able to verify that they were actually undertaking the research and not just enjoying a junket on school and grant monies. The work dragged on for some time, therefore. The good news is that the students are now finishing up their recovery and transcriptions and I shall be able to publish, what appears from the stacks of papers and discs, to be two more installments.
*****
The canoes glided onto the sandy shore with a slishing sound. A shout went up and a crowd assembled in welcome. Dr. Winderly stepped nimbly and, with long practice at canoe travel, to make her way through the shallows onto firmer ground. Jim, wobbly yet from his rather nice ejaculation, needed to keep both hands on the gunwales to steady himself. His penis, swollen but not completely shrunken wagged as the boat rocked. He was unable to retain his balance and fell face first into the shallow water, grinding his face in the sand.
As he came up, he found the crowd laughing at his slapstick recovery, evidently more than amused at the white boy's inexperience and clumsiness. He had not the skill that even a four year old villager would have shown. Professor Winderly, flashed angrily, believing him to be upstaging her.
She yelled, "Dummy! We are guests here. We have work to do. Stop being such a child."
It stung him, but, importantly, it also stung the hearers because they are not so curt with one another. For a woman to demean a man was a terrible misstep. King Moloko will, inevitably, hear of her poor etiquette and not be pleased. It is just one more way that she is blind to herself. She will soon learn more about herself, her limits, and the power of humility.
Jim, naked and dripping, clambered out of the water onto the shore and made his way up to his professor. He was angry that sometimes she can be such a prick-tease and in a trice be such a bitch. He did not mind being the butt of a joke, especially if he can laugh at himself as well. It is being humiliated that Jim cannot stand. His thought very much was that she needed to be taught a lesson. He did not know, then, how soon that might come about.
The only completely white men the villagers have seen are the occasional anthropologists who come to study among them. For the younger women, Jim's may be the first circumcised penis they have seen. His is a nice size, affording them a lovely look at, the bulb end so evident and unshielded. He could see them giggling, covering their mouths—a universal gesture—and pointing. Jim stood erect, pulling his shoulders back, trying to look manly and soon felt his penis beginning to erect again. He hoped such turgidity would not be a problem amongst these naked villagers. He had to admit to himself that he enjoyed being seen naked like this.
Being naked and seen reminded Jim of all those runs he took through the National Forest back home in South Dakota. He had wanted so much for his neighbor, Mrs. Hanson, to see him way up on that out cropping, stroking his proud cock and delivering a load. She never did (or so he thought); but hope springs eternal. His swelling seemed such a reminder of that desire, but now there was not one woman but many looking at him. It was as if all those hopes of being seen by Mrs. Hanson had come to fruition but multiplied many times over with all the women watching his penis swell and rise to horizontal.
Some of the women were clothed in the lightest, sheer gowns. He could see the curves of their breasts unrestrained by bras, their rather long nipples poking firmly at the material. Jim liked how their hips flowed outward, not like the girls he knew in university who were so fit they resembled narrow-hipped, flat-chested, young men - in many ways.
Though very many of the women were completely naked, some wore a brightly colored loin cloth. He learnt later that those women were caring for their monthly menstrual flow, otherwise they would have been as comfortably open and exposed as their sisters. It seems the option of being free and naked or wearing a loose gown followed no pattern, he could discern.
Ahead, Jim could see Dr. Winderly sashaying along. She might be a bitch at times, well, a lot of the time, but she still had a fine ass and he loved to watch her walk away. Seeing her walking, he imagined again how it would feel to grab herby the hips and run his cock between them, sliding up and back, up and back, leisurely at first and then furiously.
They walked for only 15 minutes on the hard-packed sand when the trail opened to a lush plaza surrounded on all sides by huts. The scene was just like some National Geographic magazine article with color photographs of a tribal village. This was unsurprising as that was exactly what it was! Each of the 30 or so huts in the cluster had thatched roofs, wattle and daub walls, and wispy trails rising up into the blue sky from a central smoke hole. At the far end of the plaza was a more ornate and substantial building, more a cabin than a hut. Jim surmised it was the king's palace. He was proved right when he saw a man resembling Ohman standing on the porch, half in shadow.
The king was attended by flawlessly sculpted men and women. Each man had smooth ebony skin that seemed to shine as if it had been oiled. Big chested and with strong muscled arms and legs they would have been described as beautiful had such an adjective been appropriate to men. Jim could not miss their other manliness. Their cocks were not only large but stood upright as if in some ceremonial salute to their lord. The men's bodies shone but there seemed an extra glitter, indeed flash from their penises, as the sun reflected from their bodies.
As he approached, Jim could see that their penises were encircled by rings. The ones closest to the king had more rings, the far ones, fewer. Their foreskins also seemed oddly swollen, but Jim quickly realized the men wore cock rings fitted just below the glans, covered by their prepuces. Making mental notes, Jim was working out the meaning of the rings, part of the study in his dissertation on male tribal sexual practices.
Dee Winderly in childlike glee broke and ran toward the king. Startled, some of the women closed ranks trying to impede her. The king ordered them back gently and received her. He stepped into the light and Jim was shocked to see the man's penis fully nine inches erect and standing nearly vertical. How could a man of his age manage such an impressive erection?
Perhaps the length and girth were his natural attributes, but the firmness of his erection was certainly aided be the many rings encircling his penis. They were all made of finely wrought gold, placed so tightly together it appeared King Moloko had a solid gold cock. His well-shaved, velvety ball sack hung low and held large, distinct testicles.
Dr. Winderly immediately sank before him with her eyes level with his magnificent cock. She looked up to him and smiled. Peering down, the king, smiled back and nodded. He was giving her permission to greet him as she had been taught years ago on her first visit. On her first field visit to the village, Dee had been astounded to the point of near revulsion at the libertine acts these natives employed. It is true she had been a very naïve and shy student with no sexual experience other than the stories her girlfriends had told to her. So, when she saw the traditional first-time greeting, her stomach flipped. Fortunately, she was spared from performing it due to the intervention of her mentor, Dr. Heidler.
She had no such compunction this time. She cupped her hands and took his testicles in them. She gently massaged the balls feeling them separate between her fingers. Raising up slowly she opened her mouth and took in the end of his penis. The glans was covered by a soft foreskin, that she was able to manipulate with her lips and tongue. Slowly she moved her mouth farther along the bulbous end pushing the foreskin back with her lips. At last she was able to peel the foreskin back completely.
Jim stood in open-mouthed awe at the sight of his mentor performing this ritual. He stared as Dr. Winderley sat back on her haunches looking at the king's smooth glans, now revealed to all. And as Jim could see, just behind the large bulbous cock-end, there sat a snug ivory ring.
Dr Winderly had performed the greeting perfectly, reverently honoring his orbs and scepter. The king reached down to pull her into a standing position. She snuggled into his arms and he pulled her close, prodding the gold cock into her stomach. King Moloko reached behind her and grabbed her cheeks and squeezed feeling their firmness, assessing some of her sexual value.
Jim saw her anus wink briefly as the king squeezed and parted her cheeks. His own cock was straining now, again fully erect in front of all the company, a bead of pre-cum forming at the end of his naked glans.
Moloko relaxed his grip on her and pointed with his chin toward Jim. "Your man?"
Quickly, she said, "No. Oh no, no, no. He is my student. He does not know the customs of your people but wants very much to learn. As I did many years ago with Dr. Heidler." Jim, stood by awkwardly, with a profound hard on, but nothing to do with his hands. How he wished for pockets. He looked, frankly, goofy and out of place.
Ignoring her answer, Mokoko, said, "Your man. Very nice. Your man. We will teach him, your man." It irritated her that the king referred to Jim this way ("He's definitely not my man") but shrugged it off with a thought that the language differences explained his statements. He spoke a very good English that Apostolic Missionaries taught him, but there were still idiomatic phrases that needed to be parsed for full understanding.
"Your name?" The king looked directly at Jim. "Indokolo! Your English name?" Jim did not know what Indokolo was, but he gave his name. Looking down at Jim's firm cock, he said again, "Indokolo," which was met by nods and mmhhmms among the people.
"We have a feast tonight to welcome our guests! Until, then please look around our village. Your equipment will be taken to your huts over there, pointing again with his chin. You will not need for anything while you are our guests. Tonight, we talk." And with that he turned on his heel and walked back into the cabin.
It was an abrupt way to end the greeting and both Dr. Winderly and Jim were a little aback in figuring out what they ought to do next. Prince Ohman came to the rescue and offered them a place to nap and to get cleaned up. Jim in one hut, Winderly in another.
Jim walked around the hut and found it to be quite accommodating. A woven floor that was soft enough to sleep on, but it also had two cots aligned with the north/south walls. A few cooking utensils, pots and pans, water, towels, and small pantry made it seem like an efficiency apartment. A curtain hung about midway along the length of the hut and could afford privacy if there were two people in the hut at the same time. The construction otherwise was what an anthropologist would recognize in an advanced, yet closed culture.
With so many ups and downs, Jim's cock wanted very much to be stroked and had very little problem finding pretty women to look at while he did. There were women of all sizes and shapes on the plaza, a pretty one for any man's tastes. He was looking out the window and having a lovely pull, when he heard someone enter the hut behind him. He turned and bent quickly, feeling the shame of being caught masturbating when he saw a beautiful, full-figured black woman standing there. A sheer yellow robe hung loose from her shoulders. It was open at the throat exposing the very top of her amply cleavage. Her nipples were round and he could see her areolae beneath the material. He hair was softly braided and pulled back. Large eyes, full deep red lips, high cheek bones and brilliant teeth gave her such stunning beauty that Jim thought she could be a model in any American magazine.
She looked down at him with his cock in his hand and she smiled. "I can help you with that Indokolo. Our king has asked me to be your guide. Would you like me to help?"
"Yes. I mean no. I am sorry I did not expect to see anyone, to have someone here in the hut just now."
"Please. I am sorry. I will leave if you like, Indokolo. But I like to see you. You are very nice to look at."
