Darkest Before Dawn

It's raining hard outside, but it's the same as every night here in the tropics... in the wet season, it will rain torrentially for two solid hours after seven in the evening, and in the dry season, it's more intermittent and for a shorter duration. After a while I don't even notice the racket that it makes on the steeply-sloped palm roof of the circular rush-walled house they've given me.

I'm sitting in my hammock writing my diary by the flickering light from a bare low-wattage bulb that sways drunkenly in the draught that comes in under the eaves. The solar generator will only allow fifteen minutes of transmission each evening if I want enough power left for the light to last until I go to sleep.

Anthropology, linguistics and psychology qualifications have got me to where I am today... a tiny salary (barely more than pocket money, really) and a daily satellite transmission my only real contact with the university which had sent me to study a newly discovered tribe in the West African country of Benin. There weren't many in my field that had a handle on either of the two local languages of the Fon and Bariba tribes, and fewer still with any knowledge of the phallocrypt traditions which had up to now only been observed amongst the high mountain tribes of the Grand Baliem Valley and Telefomin regions of New Guinea. I guess you could say that the job was made for me.

Phallocrypt is the scientific name for penis sheaths. Worn mostly by tribes who have shunned clothing of any sort as genital protection and adornment, and up to now lived at least a couple of thousand miles away. Two years ago a keen student from the African Anthropology Association met a representative of the tribe at a market twenty miles northwest of here. A digital camera and recorder meant that he was able to establish the unique nature of his first contact. A language of clicks and whispers was recorded but not understood by any of the local traders who informed the scientist that the man or another of his tribe came to the town up from the densely forested valleys every few months to trade butterflies and skins for a sack of salt.

A year later and here I am, Dr. Dawn Massey, three months in and barely started; I'm the only outsider ever to visit this small village of seventy souls and am totally aware that observations are being made in both directions. Am I damaging the place or making a negative social impact by being here? Would bringing a larger team in do either? My reports must firstly consider these. I have got a handle on almost a hundred of the complex gesture/sound/posture combinations that these folks use as language. The men are outnumbered by the women, due as far as I can tell to a dangerous ritual that guides them into manhood from their teens.

The men hunt for food: animals, birds and fruit. They also build and repair the two large huts which the entire village live in. The women and old folks of both sexes bring up the young and care for the field of a type of sago palm which seems to be their one road into any kind of organised agriculture. They have no domesticated animals, not even dogs and though they allow tree pythons to inhabit the rafters of their homes, it seems to me that the two species tolerate each other rather than anything else. The snakes eat any rats which might try to steal from their hosts and stop any birds from making their nests in the fibrous roofs.

These people have no name for themselves, and seem to recognise all humans to be from the same tribe. As of today my thinking is that they could well have been here, living in isolation, for hundreds or even thousands of years. The nearest village was a three day long, twenty mile slog through jungle that seemed to grow back almost as fast as you could hack a path through it. That was to the northwest; further south it was closer to forty miles to the next road and nearer fifty to the nearest town.

At first it felt odd to me, everybody was naked whilst they were in the village and though I thought I might try to join in, I found that I was constantly attracting an unfair number of insects which, though they didn't bite, seemed to be after the salt in my sweat and as such were bloody annoying. Clothed, they didn't seem as much trouble, and I got used to it. There was always the cool running stream if I needed it.

The men spent their leisure time painting designs of great complexity on each other's faces, giving each other elaborate hairdo's and drinking a milky coloured beer made from a ground nut and the small red bananas which seemed to grow in profusion in the immediate surrounds of the village. The tribe told me that they did not plant these bananas, which were one of the main reasons for the sighting of their village.

The men's penis sheaths were made from the hollowed out gourds of a type of nut tree that grew with its roots in the stream along the high banks of which the two huge huts stood. It was their only bodily adornment and was worn anytime they left the cleared ground of the village. The women used half of the rounded end of the same kind of gourd, fastened around their waist, to protect their genitals anytime they found recourse to enter the jungle.

I hadn't been invited to live in their huts, but wasn't restricted in my use of them for everything except sleeping. For the first month they seemed suspicious of me, staring in horror at my bright red pubic hair whenever I took to the stream to bathe or wash. One of the women, using hastily contrived hand signs, offered to shave me ... as if I maybe didn't know how to shave. The next day as I undressed by the stream a ripple of murmurs as they all stared at the bright flash of almost blue white flesh where my pubes had been. I hadn't noticed any extra chafing against my clothes since I'd shaved myself in the cool light of dawn at the stream edge. Indeed the sweat seemed to dry off more quickly and the new feeling was surprisingly pleasant.

The tribe seemed to be in fairly good health, with all having good skin and strong teeth. They have a thing about bodily hair, with it only being tolerated on heads. From a young age everybody spent time sitting together in the stream grooming and shaving each other using bamboo combs and flint razors. It seemed to me that they must at some time have excavated the large pool in which they all sat to carry out this social event. It had been lined with white pebbles, so that by mid morning the water was warm.

They seemed to have no concept of any smaller social group than the entire tribe, with little recognition of individual fatherhood, and babies were nursed by whoever was closest when they squalled to be fed. The larger of the two long huts was where all of the children and a few of the oldest adults slept, although it seemed to me that there was no restriction as to who could sleep in that one ... just what they could and couldn't do whilst they were there. The women had access to a natural plant contraceptive, and on the whole didn't give birth until their late twenties; some had more than one child, but rarely did anyone seem to have more than three. I was learning that it was considered to be too hard on a woman's body long term to exceed such a number.

The most interesting aspects of the culture that I was studying was its preoccupation with sex. As soon as a child began to masturbate they were allowed access to the smaller, adult's hut during sleep time, apparently to demystify the processes of their bodies. There they could ask such questions as they might wish about whatever they observed. Mostly they seemed to just sleep and occasionally watch the goings on around them; everything was there to be openly discussed.

From my daily talks with the women and children I discovered that heterosexuality was a completely unknown concept to them. Each of them was unlimited in their choice of partner - indeed sex seemed to be used as an intrinsic part of almost all adult social interaction. It was what people did to become relaxed enough to make rational decisions, it seemed to be an amazingly strong bond between every one of the adults. Men took men into the adult hut, women took women, and groups went in together. Old ladies fucked young men and partners seemed to change a half a dozen times a day.

There is so much to report that I spend hours writing daily records on a dozen different aspects of this culture; I'm getting so much feedback from the university from what seems every department at the place. Botanists, zoologists, psychologists, sexologists - even climatologists; I was barely getting enough sleep because of the workload when the university dropped the bombshell that our government had fallen out with the government of Benin and that I was 'temporarily' going to have to act as an unsupported field operative... until everybody kissed and made up. I wasn't that worried until I realised that I would receive no further monthly parachute drops of supplies to the clearing on the other side of the stream. But it's okay because if I ration myself a little there is still enough to last another three months... so long as I'm careful.

Now that you've got the background, let's get on with the story.

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I was just about to switch off the light and get under the mosquito net that hung down over my hammock when he arrived. His body glistened in the flickering light; for a few seconds he said nothing... that only just gave me time to get my heartbeat back to survivable. Who wouldn't be shocked? With his hairdo a wild array of ochre red spirals surrounding a face covered in fine contour lines of white and red; his gesture was left arm elbow out, forearm waving slowly left to right, hand open - full show of teeth with wide eyes and a soft cluck.Asking nicely ...to follow... what's the soft cluck?I reach for my clothes but he touches my arm and beckons again, this time with raised eyebrows to indicate urgency.

Naked I walk into the night; outside, carrying a flaming torch is one of the women. I fold my hands in greeting and bob my head in friendship to Fayeye, she takes my hand and we follow the tall young man to the adult hut.

There is a low fire burning in the central pit and four torches in braziers along each wall. The hut is full and as I look around, only one adult female and one male is missing. I hoped that I hadn't done anything wrong but the atmosphere wasn't unfriendly... it was hard to work out what the vibe in the room was but it definitely wasn't animosity. As my eyes become accustomed to the light levels I realise that our arrival seems to have interrupted some kind of orgy; everybody was involved in some kind of sexual congress. Nothing frantic, women were sitting in men's laps or stroking each others genitals, there were men gently sucking other men's dicks or lapping at breasts. The only universal was that no matter what they were doing it didn't stop them from staring at me.

Fayeye takes me to the centre at one side of the long hut and once I am seated passes me a gourd with beer in it. I take a small sip of the oversweet beer that they all seemed to be drinking. As soon as I lower the gourd she starts to question me in a series of gestures. At first I don't understand as she combines gestures in ways that I haven't seen before. Suddenly I get it... she's worried that I have been here for more than three moons without having come to my bleeding cycle - she is worried that I am unwell . I grab a bundle of the contraceptive plant which are hanging from the eaves immediately above my head and explain that I have something similar that also stops my menstrual cycle and that works for two years at a time. This seems to cheer her a lot, and seems to be the cause of some considerable amount of jollity amongst those gathered. Again, at first I don't understand the gestures that some of the men make and again, it comes to me in a flash... she came prepared to fuck.

One by one I realise that they are all staring at me ... expecting an answer. I don't want to appear rude but don't know how I should formulate any kind of cohesive answer... so I just smile and nod.

For a second there is no response and then with a cheer they are untangling from each other and moving towards me, dozens of hands touching and caressing me. I am pulled gently to my feet and manoeuvred towards the raised area at the far end of the hut. Other hands hold my calves and thighs and I am lifted onto the mat-covered surface.

Fayeye is the first to kiss me, pressing her breasts into mine. I've not been kissed by a woman since the last time my mum did it... and that wasn't this kind of kiss. Fayeye's kiss makes a hundred statements about want and lust, her tongue pushes against first my lips and then my closed teeth, it forces its way into my mouth where it stabs hard and rapidly against mine before it envelopes it, tugging and tangling. She breaks away and as she pulls back I see that her nipples are erect against the firmness of her young tits and almost jump as I realise that my nipples have hardened in response and that there were stirrings in my groin.

I am suddenly aware that there are bodies all around us. Men and women all touching me and each other. Someone touches my cheek from behind and as I turn there is a penis there, erect and six inches in size, shining and so dark as to appear purple in the light of the torches, its owner presses it down so that it is pointing at my mouth... it's a universal gesture and I answer by dropping my lower jaw; he just leans forward and it is in my mouth and on my tongue, Fayeye's taste mixes with the salty sweetness of his pre-come, and I try to wrap my tongue around it but it's too big so I push it against my top teeth and rub my tongue up and down the length of it.

He bends his knees further until his head hits the back of my mouth, then he moves round until he can line himself up with the angle of my throat before lowering himself down . I switch to breathing through my nose as he starts to fuck my mouth slowly pulling away before pushing himself back into my throat. My throat relaxes and becomes a gripping fuck tube for him; as it does his eyes flash down at me and he stops moving. For three seconds nothing happens and then his cock jerks sideways against my throat... I grip it with both sets of teeth so that he doesn't pull out, and I feel it throb along its length once, twice... at the third pulse he starts to come... five times I feel it hit the back of my throat as it spasms, slowly he withdraws against my dragging teeth and stands up. As he does he whoops and yodels.

In a whirl, I look down and there are two people sucking my nipples - an old woman of maybe fifty and a young girl barely out of her teens. There is a man thrusting his penis in and out of the old lady as she bends to suckle and nibble at my tit. Their attention pushes me onto my back and they follow me down still sucking and chewing. From this new angle I can see that there is another man behind the first who is butt fucking the first each time he pulled back from the old lady. Between the two at my tits appears the head and shoulders of the man who'd collected me from my hut. It was his amazing dick that gave my pussy the first pounding it had had in months. I'd been so tired from all of my work that I hadn't even bothered to wank for an age. He was huge; someone else held my labia apart and helped guide his monster into me, he didn't slam in but went at it in the 'inch in, inch out two inches in two inches out method'; for an age he continued to feed a little more and then a little more into my cunt... nothing had ever felt so completely filling to me... nothing! He lifted my legs and I could feel his hairless balls slap against my hairless arse. Then he was going faster and faster and everything starts to catch up with me and I throw my head back, a growl at my throat; I close my eyes as my first orgasm in ages arrives with the force of a freight train, I howl and screw up my face as his thrusts just keep getting faster.

As I turn my head to one side I realise that the guy who's got his dick up the other mans arse is about to come , he pulls back and moves round to my face; his cock is not minging but slightly musty - more sweaty than nasty. In two thrusts he is coming, this time it's not down my throat but in my mouth and I can taste his spunk much more than the first guys'. I let him finish coming, holding it in my mouth, before I swallow. Before he can withdraw, I hold his softening cock and lick the last of his come from the ebony of his helmet. The taste is a caviar of heaven, salty and rich.

He pulls back and my head drops onto the matting. I close my eyes as I realise that I was about to come again. I turn my head to the side where the young woman was still sucking my boob. I caught her eye and in an instant she had let go of my nipple and was lowering her pussy towards my face... as I came my shout was muffled against her flesh. I reached my tongue out to her cunt only to see it pass by to open its lips and sit on my nose, rubbing back and forth while she mashes the pink centre of her arse into my mouth. My tongue hits its centre which twitches before settling back onto the hard end, pushing it past the circle of her sphincter. I can't get enough air through my nose, so gasp through my mouth around the flesh of her slender buttocks.

The man in my pussy suddenly speeds up to a quite staggering speed before stopping dead, buried to the hilt inside me as he pumps what felt like eight or ten times deep inside me. He too yowled and shrieked after he had pulled out. My tongue was still stiff and was being used by the young woman to penetrate her arse, up and down until she fell away unable to hold herself up in the throes of her orgasm. She lay face down and twitching just above my head, her arse sticking up and her come dribbling from her pussy.

All around me there were people coming, in a chorus of grunts and squeals. I saw a woman pull her cunt from the lapping it was getting and thrust her hips upwards as she too started to expel her come from her.. I had never seen a woman ejaculate before and was almost aghast as it gushed from her in five spurts, each splatter more copious than any cock I have ever witnessed. A drop of it fell onto my forearm and I immediately raised it to my mouth to taste... another elixir of sweet and sour.

The old lady suddenly drags her teeth at my nipple before letting go and falling forward over my body onto her forehead. Her hands reach back behind her to pull apart the sagging roundels of her fat butt. The man who'd been fucking her pulls out of her pussy and with two quick pulls aims his come at the exposed bud of her arse. She falls further across me until I'm supporting her weight; I see her fingers gather up his spunk and rub it first around and then with each added spurt up inside her crinkled arse. She grunts and squeals as her ramming fingers bring her to another climax.

In the aftermath of this mass coming, fresh milky beer was passed around. For the first time since my arrival I am being treated as a member of the village and as I bask in the afterglow of my long overdue sexual release, I am happy and proud. I wanted more, a lot more, but realised that everybody else was starting to sit up and an almost alien air of business began to take over. Now that they felt that everybody was of a suitable temperament, it was time to discuss the politics of running a small community. A taboo on any further recreational sexual activity until all business at hand was completed. Not a place for anybody of a filibustering nature. I had more to learn, and more to tell.

To be continued...

My thanks and gushing praise as ever for my editor Hotti...