Outside the darkened hut, the beat of voodoo drums rose and fell in intensity. My heartbeat synchronized with the rhythms, gunning blood through my veins like water through a fire hose. My focus blurred into a tunnel. I had no peripheral vision at all. Every cell in my eyes focused on the woman in front of me in the wavering candlelight. The deep rich color of her obsidian skin was offset by the white, ankle length dress she wore. It was thin, cotton fabric with spaghetti straps holding it to her shoulders. Ruffles around the breasts camouflaged her cleavage, yet I could still see their ripe curves. I wondered, not for the first time, what her nipples looked like. How impossibly dark were they against the fullness of her breasts? Her feet were bare and her toenails, fingernails and lips were painted in lavender. Silky black hair fell in waves half way down her back and her eyes were wide pools of sapphire blue. I had been startled by the color which she later explained was a gift from the gods and set her apart from her fellow islanders.
The drum beat increased, making my whole body throb. What had she given me to drink? It was a milky white substance in a wooden bowl which she had held to my lips and tilted back until the liquid was gone. Choking down the last bit left my mouth and throat feeling chalky. Whatever was in the potion had pulled me into a daze. Now, I was slumped on a chair with thin cushions that allowed the bony structure to poke me in the back. What the hell was happening to me? The potion channeled the rhythm of the drums, the throbbing of my body, the woman in front of me and the aching of my erection. It hurt like hell, caged in fabric, even though I had adjusted it. The blood filled corpora felt as if it were going to tear through the delicate skin, like every drop of blood had flowed from my extremities into my crotch, leaving just enough for my brain to survive.
I had followed her into the small house on the edge of the jungle. Helped by the intoxicating allure of her exotic beauty, strong rum punch and the chalky drink. The rum had helped weaken my already diminished resolve, the bowl of liquid had smashed it. Whatever had been in it had tunneled my focus to just the exotic beauty before me. She reached up to the straps on her dress and began a slow strip tease.
That afternoon, I had walked into a small bar for an afternoon beverage, parched and tired from hiking the hills of the tiny island. I ordered a rum drink that seemed to be the specialty of the island, even though everyone made it a little different. This bartender, a slow, bald black man in tattered shorts and a stained shirt, mixed one of the best yet. After a few drinks, I asked around for accommodations. I did not get much of a response and decided to walk down the road and find a taxi back to civilization. I got up, tossed a few dollars on the bar and shouldered my backpack. It held all my worldly possessions. Stepping from the wood floor of the dark bar onto the sun baked dirt of the road, I slipped my sunglasses on against the glare and looked to my right and left. Small huts crowded each other as they huddled around the crossroads. They had wooden sides and tin roofs with hard packed dirt floors. The poverty was a stark contrast to my middle class upbringing in the United States. My sunglasses cost more than some of these people made in a month. I wanted to help and the best way I had found was to spend my dollars in the little bars and kiosks and restaurants along the road.
A small white car slid to a stop in the crossroads. It was covered in a film of dirt and heavily dented on the passenger side. Dust hung in the air around the vehicle and slowly settled as a the driver's door opened and a handsome young islander stepped out and leaned on the roof. He looked at me through mirrored aviator shades and smiled. His teeth were straight white pickets against his thick lips. Long dreads piled on his head and spilled over his shoulders. "Yuh, need a ride?"
I shrugged and stepped towards the car. I liked to let fate have her way when I traveled. It was more adventurous than itineraries and agendas. Somehow things always worked out. If I asked the universe, it would appear. The passenger door opened with a squeal of metal on metal and I slipped into the cracked vinyl seat. The man jumped back behind the wheel, jammed the gear shifter into first and unloaded the clutch. The front tire's spun as the car lurched away.
"I'm Brian. Where ya going?"
"Some place to spend the night."
"Yuh look for a party? How 'bout a girl, I know one." He took both hands off the steering wheel and used them to outline the shape of a female. He whistled.
"Just a place to sleep."
"I have da perfect place." The engine screamed as he accelerated. He drove the car recklessly at speed and I understood why it was dented and dusty. We wound around the island and into the jungle covered hills. He stopped at a small clearing surrounded by multiple huts. It looked like a commune and less like the town we had just left. He hopped out of the car and walked to the first hut. I followed with some trepidation, listening to bird calls and insects buzz in the verdant jungle. Tall trees sheltered the huts leaving the clearing bathed in fading afternoon light. A few people sat in the shade of the trees and huts. I was the only white person I could see.
"What is this place?"
"Dis be magical place, brah. I was told to bring yuh here."
"By who?" I asked skeptically.
He spread his arms wide and said, "Da gods." He laughed.
"How about a shower, food, a bed?" I was tired and sweaty after a day of trekking.
"Right here." He opened the door and lead the way in. I was surprised how nice the inside was. It had a rough hewn wood floor, worn smooth over years of use, a small kitchen area and an open door leading into a bathroom. A bedroom was through another open door and I could see a double bed with crisp white sheets stretched taut over the mattress, a folded blue blanket lay at the foot of the bed and two pillows in white cases were side by side at the head.
"Yuh like?"
"This is great." The accommodations were a lot nicer than I had imagined from the shabby looks of the exterior.
"We party later. You rest up."
"A party here?"
"Yas sir, we party here most nights. You like."
I nodded and he disappeared out the door, leaving me to drop my bag on the floor. I stripped naked and stepped into the shower. I thought about masturbating, but I had the sudden suspicion I should save myself for whatever lay ahead tonight. My driver was sure I would enjoy myself and I could always rub one off later.
After the shower, I laid down on the bed and fell asleep. I was awakened by a pounding on the door. I looked at my watch. It said I had slept for two hours. It was dark and I was hungry. The pounding came again and I stumbled from the bed and groped for my shorts. I found my bag and yelled for the person at the door to stop hammering. A few minutes later, I was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and clean underwear. I went barefoot to the door and opened it.
