My wife and I are childhood sweethearts.
So when we eventually got married, it all just felt very natural but also mundane.
Being so settled, we sought to spice it up with our honeymoon and go for something really spectacular and maybe even a bit dangerous.
We settled on visiting a remote hut village of the Minka tribe in the remote jungles of southern Sudan, led by a guide/interpreter.
We expected that the journey would be tough, but even still, we wondered if we'd been a bit naive. The treacherous journey had us questioning why we would have even considered this, actually making us miss the comforts of home. In fact, we had already given up - it was only that the journey back at the point in which we changed our minds would take a greater toll than if we pressed on ahead to the nearest village of the Minka tribe which was our destination.
After 3 days of trekking through the jungle had numbed our senses to the excitement of having arrived in the village. We went straight past the greetings from the villagers to find food and water.
The interpreter worked his magic and chief of the village invited us for a feast in his hut, which was filled with a strange cloud of smoke and steam, making for a slightly uncomfortable yet relaxing atmosphere.
The chief offered us the feast of water and food we'd been after, but the interpreter quickly pointed out that we'd need to offer a gift to the chief in exchange.
With our bodies full and well hydrated, we came to our senses and realized that we had packed far too light for this journey and didn't have anything to offer the chief.
The interpreter looked nervous, explaining that the chief would be very offended.
Though the interpreter was careful not to pass on any messages to the chief that would offend him, the chief quickly realized the nature of our conversation and shouted something at the interpreter.
We were now all nervous, but the interpreter more so upon hearing what the chief had to say.
The interpreter explained that the chief demanded my wife and I be something called an 'otumba', a word that the interpreter said he couldn't translate into English. Anecdotally, he explained that this is something that is traditional to the Minka tribe, something that is 'together for village'. Owing the the interpreter's limited English, he couldn't explain any more than that.
Under duress of the whole village watching our every move, with fear of being sent back into the jungle, we asked the interpreter if we should say yes. The interpreter just replied, "must, must say yes".
And so my wife and I looked at each other for a moment. Her hair was messy and her clothes filthy, but the steamy hut had covered her pale skin with a sweaty glow that made her look strangely erotic. Her cheeks were flushing red - either from the heat or from the conversation, I don't know. I wondered if she imagined the same scenario I had. What did she understand an otumba to be?
Her eyes were understandably filled with worry, the kind that was ready to yield. So I asked her, "are you okay to say yes?"
She nodded her head, and so we agreed.
The chief looked pleased, and he had us escorted to what was to become our hut for the duration of our stay. The both of us relieved, we settled into our hut and finally rejoiced at our achievement.
There, in spite of our tired and sweaty bodies, we made love before falling asleep for the night.
The next morning, we were awakened by a group of women leading my wife somewhere. Worried, I found the interpreter to ask what was going on. She was simply being led to bathe, a "typical women practice". Assured, I simply strolled around the village to take it all in.
After a while, I saw my wife approaching at a distance with the same group of village women. To my shock, she was naked at the top, only covering her bottom half with a tribal skirt. My wife was laughing as she approached me. I say shocked, but it was the way that women were dressed here. Men were staring at her, but so were the women. We were the only guests in the village. It didn't take her topless self to attract attention.
My wife explained that her clothes had been taken away to wash, and that the women washed her in a nearby river. She felt a part of the village, and so did I. We partook in various chores around the village for the remainder of the day, just taking everything in.
By late afternoon, we were exhausted from the heat and decided to have a rest in our hut. My wife and I got talking to about how cool all this was, and about how it was all worth it.
The hut was steamy with a light aromatic smoke like the rest. The smell, the heat, the sweaty glow on both our skins, our minds and souls were fulfilled with a that sense of adventure we'd been looking for.
We locked eyes. My wife was craving my body and I was craving hers. Her body was already mostly naked, and I had a raging hardon for it.
Just then, someone barged into our hut. It was the chief.
He looked around the hut for a while before scanning every corner of my wife's body.
The chief was a formidable man, both in stature and in demeanor. My wife and I were stood still, without a word.
The chief stood my wife up and had her stand against the wooden column in the middle of the hut. There, he started to stroke my wife's body.
