My name is Jack Duncan and I am a free-lance professional photographer. I specialize in unusual locales and natural science work, the kind you might find in National Geographic. My wife Debbie is an Anthropologist. I am 45 and Debbie is 32, we have been married for 10 years having met while she was in college and I was teaching a class in ancient cultures.
We recently undertook a year long expedition into the remote rainforests along the Amazon to live with an indigenous tribe of Karaja Indians so Debbie could study their people, language, history, family structure, and rituals.
The Karaja are one of 53 indigenous tribal peoples still living in isolation in Brazil. They are a peaceful people having been pacified in the 1970s. As you might expect they are small in stature, with the men standing 5'6" on average and the women mostly 5'0" to 5'2". Their skin is a reddish brown in shade. Their ethnic features derive from pre-Columbian populations. They live in family groups usually comprised of 20 to 30 people. Although pacified, they speak only in their native tongue, and practice their own spiritual beliefs. Today they are primarily hunters and gatherers and move their location in the forest whenever they start to deplete their sustenance needs.
We had hired a local guide and translator, Hoopoe, to take us up the Amazon and into the rainforest to find the Karaja. When we arrived we were greeted by the tribal elders with many people of the tribe standing nearby listening intently as Hoopoe explained who we were and our desire to live with them for 12 months and learn their ways. We learned that when they refer to themselves as a group they use the word Bide which means "we, the human beings." After some elaborate communal greetings we provided a variety of gifts for the Bide and our mission was accepted. The rest of that day the whole tribe participated in building us a thatched hut to live in.
That evening there was a celebration for the whole tribe which Hoopoe explained was their way to welcome us into their family. There was food, drink and dancing till late into the night. At one point during the festivities an elder boy with an elaborate dress and painted body performed a chant, and spilled powder into the fire which caused it to soar into towering, multi-hued flames. Hoopoe told us that he was the Magi. This meant he was their spiritual seer. I asked if this was not unusual for such an important position to be held by one of his youth. Hoopoe explained that the position was lineage and taught to him by his grandfather who had crossed over to the other world. With the exception of children, the Bide do not recognize age as some right to status. By skill and knowledge when they are of age they become a hunter or warrior, or in his case, a Magi. Therefore they don't question his standing. He is of the lineage of the Magi and it is to him they turn. His knowledge is worthy of his station.
During the celebration the Magi animatedly spoke directly to us. Looking to Hoopoe he explained "Kayapo wants to know if there is something wrong with your skin?"
"Kayapo," I quizzed?
"The Magi is known to the Bide as Kayapo," he said.
"What does he mean by that? Does he refer to the color of our skin," Debbie asked?
"He means your coverings. He is wondering why you are concealed. Women do not cover their skin," he explained.
"Oh," exclaimed Debbie, "please tell Kayapo there is nothing wrong with my skin. This is just our custom."
Hoopoe provided the explanation and there was a brief exchange of words and some somber whispering, and everyone went on about the meal. I asked what was said and he replied "she must be unfriendly because she is hiding her skin." Debbie frowned at that but by then everyone was happily engaged in the celebration so the matter was dropped.
When the celebrating was finished we went to our hut to sleep. Everyone slept on a grass mat, which they had kindly given to us. Due to the humidity and heat I slept in boxer shorts and Debbie used a long sleeve kaki blouse as a nightshirt.
The next day we set up the equipment in the hut so we could perform our work. Computers and camera gear and video equipment so periodically we could review and edit the photography and send in pictures to various journals to get some money to keep our project funded.
Over the next month we went about our plans to learn from the Karaja everything we could. My task was to get this down in a photo essay form, and Debbie's was to tell the story.
One evening after our meal Debbie and I sat talking about her progress. I was getting a lot of good photographs but the narrative that would go along with them was coming much more slowly. Debbie said "there is resistance or reluctance to share with me. There is some barrier between us that I can't figure out."
"The elders have given permission for the Bide to talk to us and show us their ways. What do you think is holding them back," I asked?
"I'm not sure exactly, but they seem to defer to Kayapo. It's as if they are looking to him to recognize our mission and give his consent too," she said.
"Well, then maybe you should be spending more of your time building a relationship with Kayapo. He does seem detached from what we are doing. Maybe he wants you to come to him. Remember, he is the one with the wisdom of the ancients of the Bide," I offered. "I have been thinking just that. There is something captivating about him but I can't put my finger on it. Tomorrow I will try to communicate with him and see if I can win his consent. I am sure it won't happen overnight, so we may be taking a short break from daily efforts until I can see if he will accept me," she said.
Over the next couple of weeks Debbie would spend time everyday sitting in front of Kayapo and talk and listen. She would come back at the end of each day with a budding excitement over the promising breakthrough she was making. Still the rest of the Bide would not plainly help her.
She told me Kayapo explained that their family structure was built on a monogamous bond between a man and woman. The Karaja were 12 families with a total of 33 people ranging in age from new born to nearly 60 years for the eldest in the Bide.
"Why do some of the women wear grass skirts and others don't," I asked?
"The grass skirts signify that those women are unapproachable. They belong to someone. All the young children go naked until they reach puberty. When a woman or girl becomes available she will wear no more than a simple chord with a very few pieces of grass for her skirt. Sometimes they wear other jewelry or trinkets and of course they have various body paintings or tattoos which are for decoration based on individual tastes. The paintings, tattoos, and jewelry are all based on tribal and family affiliations. Anyone familiar with their customs can tell which family a woman is from by her decorations," she explained carefully.
Then one night after we had settled in to sleep I heard a slight shuffling and opened my eyes and in the dim reflected light of the fire outside I saw Kayapo seated in a yoga pose on the opposite side of our hut. He was just looking intently at us. Debbie was facing me, her back to that area of the hut. Her eyes were open looking at me with a puzzled expression. I whispered "its Kayapo. He is sitting there watching us," I said. He made no move and said nothing. Finally in the wee hours of the night I fell asleep. When I awoke in the morning he was gone.
As we got up Debbie gleefully said "I could feel his eyes on me. I was so nervous. He wants something but I don't know what it is."
"Why don't you ask him about it today," I suggested?
"I don't think it is polite to be that direct. I will have to wait and see if he says something," she answered.
That night and for the next several nights he would appear in our hut, sit patiently on the mat opposite our sleeping mats and just watch us. One morning I told Debbie "its not that I am uncomfortable with his showing up and spending most of the night watching us, but I sure would like to know what is on his mind. He isn't just looking in on us and he apparently is not there to talk. What do you think he is after," I asked again?
"He has never said anything and acts like nothing has happened," she explained.
Hoopoe cut in "he thinks you are unfriendly."
"Unfriendly," she questioned? "I have been trying to prove to him I want to be his friend. I thought we were making progress."
Hoopoe reminded her "you cover your skin."
"That would explain his nightly call, he wants to see your skin," I teased!
I could see Debbie mulling this over during the rest of the morning. After lunch she had changed into an aboriginal style print sarong, tied above her breast. I watched from across the village as she approached Kayapo and kneeled in front of him. I could see her trying to speak to him in the Karaja native tongue, and then she slowly stood, standing quietly in front of him. I watched as she untied her sarong and opened it, holding her arms wide and then let the light material loose. It drifted like a feather to the ground at her feet. She was naked!
Standing in the bright light I marveled at the magnificence of her body. Debbie does not look the part of a field anthropologist or a PhD for the matter. She has natural, wavy blonde hair atop a 5'6" tall body. She has an hourglass figure and the most beautiful green eyes. Her breasts stand proud and supple on her chest with pink areolas the size of silver dollars and barely darker nipples. Her abdomen is flat and her hips possess a womanly flare, round and firm. I can see her light golden fleece barely covering her sex. I stare at her lovely body, my eyes tracing her silhouette, caressing the gentle swell of her firm butt. The contours of her shapely and lithe legs spawn a seductive, graceful suggestion in front of Kayapo. Her body, lightly tanned but pale in contrast to his dark skin, sways beneath the glare of the sun provoking a trance that lures my eyes. Her nipples, only slightly protruding, reveal she is at ease with her communal nudity.
She kneeled down and bowed her head at the feet of Kayapo. I could not hear what was being said but she was addressing him. I saw pleasure on the face of Kayapo while an unusual still settled over the Bide as they were mesmerized by what Debbie had done. Finally, after some minutes she picked up her sarong and stood. Wrapping herself she walked toward me.
"What was that all about," I asked as she came and sat down beside me?
"Hoopoe said Kayapo thought I was unfriendly. So I took your advice and I showed him my skin," she said trembling. There was mischief in her smile.
"Well, I loved the show. You looked stunning in the sunlight. I was so preoccupied I forgot to even take a picture. You will have to do it again so I can document it on film," I goaded.
"I offered myself to him," she said breathlessly.
"You showed him you were friendly," I agreed.
"Jack, women that are unavailable only show their breasts. Women who are available expose their whole body," she said with a frown.
"He knows we are married, the entire tribe was told that when we arrived. You told me that they are monogamous," I reminded her.
"Yes, they are monogamous. But they all saw me expose my body to him in front of you. In their tradition that means I am available" she explained.
"Why did you take such a chance," I demanded?
"Do you want me to fail," she asked pointedly? Our ignorance of the meaning of his question that first night has hindered my study. By covering my skin he believed I was hiding something. I had to prove that I wanted him to know me or it might undo my whole project." I just shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, "I hope he knows the difference between a friendly knowing you and an available knowing you."
"You told me to build a relationship with him. I couldn't take the chance of half measures after this length of time," was her retort. I was thinking build a relationship, not offer to have one but she was digging in her heels as she stormed away so I kept my mouth shut. That was the last of our discussion that day as we had work to do.
When we settled in to sleep that night I was facing the opposite wall with a view of where Kayapo had sit in the past. Debbie was lying with her back to that wall of the hut. After a short while I heard the faint rustle of footsteps. I could see in the light reflected from the group fire outside that Kayapo was sitting staring at us. For over an hour in the flickering glow he simply sat there, no words and no movement. His eyes were just watching us. Finally Debbie whispered "I think he is here for me." I sarcastically whispered back "I'm sure he is here to discuss your offer."
Debbie looked at me with disapproval in her eyes, then rolled over with her back to me and continued to lay there for a long time. The fire outside had died out to bright embers. Still he just sat there and looked. I could tell by her ragged breathing that Debbie was still awake and nervous. Abruptly she sat up crossed legged just looking back at him. It was if the two of them were carrying on some hushed conversation. She turned her face to me looking for guidance. Resentful, I simply nodded and mouthed "go". She then got up and quietly walked the short distance to him and sat down a little to his side with her back to me.
At this point I could feel my heart beating rapidly and the adrenalin in my system increasing the level of my own nervousness. In the faint light the red hues reflecting upon the subdued portrait of my wife and this boy was incredibly exotic. I was a foolish onlooker.
I could see Debbie's arms moving in front of her, still silently looking at Kayapo and him at her. No words were being spoken. Slowly I saw her pull her arms back and realized that she had unbuttoned her shirt. With one hand he reached in front of her and I imagined he was touching the soft, silky skin of her breasts. Motionless, I felt a jolt of sexual energy surge through my body. For several minutes I could see his arm moving as I was now certain he was fondling her. Then she reached up to her collar and smoothly slid the shirt off her shoulders. She slipped her arms from the sleeves and she was naked in front of him. He turned on his mat to face her and she turned to face him. I now had a full view of her in striking profile. The swell of her breasts and heave of her chest betrayed her arousal.
I was torn as I watched him caress her body, touching tenderly and lightly every inch of her. He stroked her breasts, squeezing and gently pinching. I could see her nipples harden under the exploitation of his fingers as he squeezed and pulled them. He tickled her inner thigh and little by little traced a path to her most intimate feminine area. She arched and hung her head backward, her face to the roof. Her long hair falling like a mane, trailed down her back. Her hands were clenched into tight fists as she trembled. Although I could not see, I pictured his fingers pushing into her. I realized that he was touching her in a place that only I had known before. There was nothing lewd about this display. On the contrary it was a very erotic vision. I discovered the jealousy within me defeated by a voyeur's hunger that I never knew existed. At this very moment I was full of lust watching this boy touching my wife. I saw her shudder in orgasm. At one point he leaned to suckle upon her nipple like a child as she embraced his head to her breast, the contrast in the color of their skin adding to the fire within me.
At last he sat back and looked at her for some minutes and then rose and disappeared as if into thin air. The scent of her sex was heavy in the air. She lay back where she sat and fell asleep. I was exhausted by the experience myself and rather than going to her I closed my eyes to a fitful slumber.
The next morning I got up early and went out to the group area to get something to drink and eat. I was sitting around the fire when Debbie came and sat down beside me. "I am sorry about last night," she began. "Shush, no need to apologize," I said.
"I was tempted by him. It was as if his fingers were unbuttoning my blouse. Do you understand," she asked? I nodded and said "He is fascinating."
"I wanted him to feel me Jack," she said.
"What I saw last night was a sheer seduction. He seduced you with his touch and you surrendered," I suggested.
"I know and I feel so conflicted," she sulked.
"I am not angry or hurt," as I strained a smile.
"Are you troubled by what happened," she asked daringly?
"It was very erotic and sensual. And, it was unthinkable before last night. I was full of envy as I watched his hands touching you, to the point I had to do some early morning cleansing," I answered.
She smiled with assurance and walked away.
I was in conflict. She did not seem the least bit distressed by what she had done. And I unwisely revealed I had an orgasm watching her. Thoughts but no clarity swirled more or less in my mind.
Over the next week our days and nights were back to routine. Debbie was right about overcoming the resistance by exposing herself to Kayapo. Suddenly we found the Bide eager to share their stories and understanding. We would spend the mornings exploring and listening, book work and writing in the afternoons and after the evening meal we would socialize with the Bide and then retire to our hut and sleep.
Then one night shortly after we had settled down to sleep I heard the whisper of feet and opened my eyes to see Kayapo seated across the hut looking at us again. Debbie had her back to me, facing the direction of where Kayapo was seated. In the faded light I could see he was looking at Debbie. Lying as quietly as I could I watched her breathing and listened to the rapid beat of my own heart.
After several long moments she slowly sat upright. My emotions were charged to the extreme. I struggled to contain my breathing under control. I could feel the sexual heat in my loins and blood rush to harden my penis. The new found voyeur in me wanted Debbie to go to him and to watch her naked body with Kayapo again. But I was in turmoil, frightened of where that would surely lead. My mind and body were on fire fueled by anticipation, dread and desire.
His eyes were focused on her. I could sense her excitement growing, and smell her arousal. She unbuttoned her shirt and quietly pulled it from her shoulders and arms, still sitting there. I looked at her supple, pale form in the dim light. I could see the swell of her hips and silky texture of her skin. Dread wanted to reach out and embrace her, but desire knew I could not without breaking the spell that was palpable around us. My heart was racing waiting for her next move.
She silently rose and padded across the short span of dirt and sat down next to him facing me. Debbie momentary looked at me, her eyes searching mine, as I lay motionless in submission. Turning slightly to him, he reached a hand out and carefully cupped her breast. I could see his finger and thumb lightly flicking over her nipple. He then lay back drawing her breast to his lips as she turned her back on me and lay next to him.
I saw her leg glide up and over and rest upon his hip. I saw his erect penis for the first time. Kayapo was indeed well endowed and not what you would expect of someone his physique. I would guess he was probably 6 to 7 inches long. What is more amazing is he was thick, possibly 2 times normal.
The thought of seeing his immense cock slide into Debbie's body prevailed over reason. I wanted her to have sex with him while I watched. I wanted to see the huge head of his cock slip past her vulva. I couldn't help myself. If my dread didn't somehow forbid this I knew desire was going to let her mate with him. I was frozen in anguish, emotionally frayed by the scene before my eyes.