Jamaican Beauties Jaunt Ch. 01

This time Will did not respond and waited for her to continue her story.

"Father, still looking for a physical activity as an alternative to athletics, enrolled me in dance classes when I turned fourteen. It was immediately obvious to both of us that dance was the one physical activity at which I excelled. For the first time in my life, I not only participated, I thrived in a physical activity. Even better, my father was an excellent dancer and he coached, practiced, and rehearsed with me. My father was finally doting on me. He was always smiling at me and praising my efforts and my abilities. I was finally sure that my father loved me as much as he loved my sisters."

Without waiting for Will to comment, Denise sent several more prepared messages, "I should point out that, according to my mother, I was my father's favourite child, and I, in turn, always adored and obeyed him. Mother often jokes that I spoke my first words when father asked me, en passant and not expecting an answer, if I was ready to go with him. I answered, "Yes, Papa." Because of that adoration, when he explained the importance of being a reliable team member, the one everyone else counted on and looked up to, I responded by showing my total dedication to the dance team. I never missed a practice and I always arrived on time and prepared."

"When I started dancing, my father frequently told me how proud he was of me. I wanted that to continue, so I focused on my dance and whenever I danced, I focused on pleasing my father. I was oblivious to anything else—my surroundings, any comments from anyone other than my father or my instructor, or any pain. In fact, I once sprained my ankle and yet I continued the rest of the dance class and returned for the next class. I practiced when I had influenza. I didn't miss a practice during the weeks it took me to recover from a severely sprained knee."

"However, dancing took up a great deal of our time, especially during the evenings and weekends. It took away from the time we'd previously used to go to the ballet, concerts, art gallery openings, and musical performances. Yet, I was finally good at something, something athletic, something physical. I was actually better at something than my sisters could ever be. It was a wonderful feeling even though it meant giving up sharing the arts with my father."

Will quickly interjected, "Those are the good times you should always remember."

Denise smiled at Will's constant efforts to cheer her as she sent the next of her prepared messages, "Because I was an excellent dancer, especially in Calypso, the day after my seventeenth birthday father requested that I join the local community's Bacchanal dance troupe. That meant, to my horror, I'd have to dance on a Bacchanal float wearing a revealing costume. It was one thing to dance in public, at least I was a good Calypso dancer, but I knew I could never dance in front of people in a skimpy Bacchanal costume, one that would prove to everyone that I was ugly and not worthy of being admired. Nevertheless, father insisted and he used a trick he'd learnt whilst teaching me to play sports, he dared me to do it. I could never refuse my father's dares, so, reluctantly, I agreed. Despite my reservations about my abilities and appearance, the dance troupe accepted my application and three months later the troupe selected me to be a Bacchanal float dancer."

"You must have been thrilled," Will messaged her, trying to minimize the interruption to her story while being supportive.

"Soon after I became a float dancer, I graduated from secondary school and started working as a sales clerk. A year later, I entered the College of the Visual and Performing Arts or, as we called it, Arts School. I hadn't thought it through, but I had hoped to become a poet or a writer, despite never having published an article or book. I thought I might try being a photographer, painter, or sculptor, although I'd never produced a single piece of artwork. I considered becoming a musician, even though I didn't know how to play an instrument and didn't have a good singing voice. However, I eventually settled on my only proven artistic skill, dancing. After all, I was a member of a well-known Calypso dance troupe."

"At Arts School, my roommate and her friends were studying to be fashion designers. I happily accepted them as friends—I hadn't had many friends in Secondary school. Because of their focus on the fashion industry, my roommate and her friends believed that good-looking women were tall, thin, to the point of emaciation, and small breasted. They took great glee in informing me, as though I didn't already suspect it, that not only was my body large and ungainly but, because of my big breasts and wide hips, it was completely out of proportion."

Will wanted to say that wasn't true, but had agreed not to interrupt her story. He made a note to try to prove to her that she was indeed a good-looking woman.

Denise's next two messages stated, "My mother and father tried to convince me that the girls at Arts School were wrong, but I knew they were only trying to be supportive and what they were saying couldn't be true. It all made sense, being large and disproportionate was why I was uncoordinated, why I wasn't good at sports. It was the reason the boys in secondary school never asked me to go to dances or to go out with them."

"After two years at Arts School, I concluded that being a professional dancer would not be a good career choice and that I needed to get away from the constant criticism and teasing from my roommate and her friends. I left Arts School, moved back with my parents, and took a job as a shop sales manager. I didn't have a boyfriend, only a couple of gay male friends I'd known since secondary school and with whom I shared a love of music and dance. Dancing was the only thing at which I excelled or was at least competent."

Denise immediately sent her subsequent message, "However even dancing stopped being fun when my Arts School friends began to tease me whenever they saw me dancing at a night club. They initially teased me personally, calling me dumpy and awkward. Later, they began pointing me out to everyone else, frequently referring to me as, "that cow with the huge utters." I knew they were right, my attempts at sports with father proved that I was oversized and uncoordinated. I saw how all the boys at school constantly stared at my misshapen body with wide hips and oversized breasts. I could see everyone in the club staring at me when I danced. It all just proved my former Arts School roommate's point. I quit the Bacchanal Dance troupe so no one would have to look at my ugly body. I knew then, just as I know now, I'm not pretty or sexy. I don't deserve to be loved."

Will walked around his room, knowing that if he were near his keyboard he'd have to send her a message. As he paced, he muttered, "How could she be so insecure, what drove her to believe those girls and not her parents? Can't she see how pretty she is? You just have to look at her Facebook pictures to see she's pretty. How can she be so blind?"

Denise's next message brought Will back to his chair, and he read, "With my father's urging I rejoined the Bacchanal dance troupe a year after having quit. Two years after I quit Arts School, I gave up my job as a shop sales manager and entered Accounting School. I graduated two years later and found a part-time job as the lead accountant for a large construction company in Kingston. I moved into my own apartment and focused on my job. My only release was dancing with the Bacchanal dance troupe and dancing and drinking at several nightclubs in New Kingston, usually with my two gay male friends."

Denise again did not pause before sending her next message, "That's also when I started going to Internet chat rooms about travel. Which is where I met Lars, my former European boyfriend. For six months, I was happy. I traveled to Belgium to meet Lars and see Brussels, although it turned out to be a disappointing trip. Later, I took Lars on a tour of Jamaica, which turned out to be even more disappointing. Whatever happiness I had remaining, disappeared the day before I met you online. As I said when I started this sad tale, my Belgium boyfriend proved once again that I'm an oversized and undesirable cow. I'm sure that was why he cheated on me and why he dumped me."

"Oh God no! That's not true! Denise, where do I start?" Will typed as quickly as he could. He desperately wanted her to know how upset he was, how sorry he was for her, how much he wanted to explain the truth to her. However, he simply couldn't convey any of that via typed Internet chat messages.

Denise did not see Will's desperate pleas. She was exhausted and miserable. She did not learn what he wanted to explain to her. She needed a glass of wine, some time to herself, and a good night's sleep. Without reading Will's subsequent messages, without acknowledging him, Denise logged out of their private chat and signed off the Internet.

* * * * *

Duped and Dumped

Although he desperately wanted and frequently tried, Will could not get Denise to talk about her belief that she was undesirable. Finally, he gave up. Instead, he focused on convincing her to share the story that seemed to haunt her. Because of her previous comments and asides about her "former Belgium boyfriend," Will frequently inquired about that relationship. He believed, based on what she'd shared with him, that it was a pivotal event in her adult life. However, she continually rebuffed his requests for information about the relationship and the events that led to its demise. As he had when he first found her in an Internet chat room, Will persisted, politely and as low-key as he could in a chat message, inquiring as to what happened with her European boyfriend, what had happened to cause her to be so obviously upset, so clearly grief stricken.

Late Friday evening, after, from what Will could ascertain, she'd been out dancing and drinking with her two gay friends, she seemed receptive to chatting about any subject. This time, when Will urged her to tell him about her European boyfriend, Denise explained, "As I did with you, I met Lars, my ex-boyfriend from Belgium, in an online chat room. As I did with you, I discovered that we had a common interest: travel to exotic locations. Eventually, after he made several offers to show me around, I took a trip to Brussels."

She continued, "However, contrary to what I'd understood Lars had offered to do for me, I had to arrange for and stay in a hostel by myself. I ate almost all of my meals alone, in restaurants that I had to find on my own. I spent my days touring the city by myself and not with Lars. He did meet me at lunch my second day and that night and the next he took me to two of the most expensive nightclubs in Brussels. However, whilst we were at the clubs, he tried to get me to undress on the dance floor. He told me it was the custom, in the newest and most popular clubs, to dance topless and that if I went first, I would be the star of the club. I wanted to please him, but I couldn't do that. Even as a stranger in a foreign city, I didn't have the nerve to expose my ungainly, disproportioned body in a crowded nightclub."

At that point in her story, Denise, demurring that she was too tired to continue, abruptly logged out of their chat, and signed off the Internet.

* * * * *

The next evening, Denise immediately accepted Will's invitation for their scheduled, daily private chat. She was seemingly sober, fully aware, and in a talkative mood. After the normal pleasantries about her day at work, their previous night's chat, and in response to his repeated questions, Denise, to Will's surprise, agreed to tell him what happened on her trip to Brussels and what led to her subsequent offer to take Lars on a tour of Jamaica.

"As soon as I returned to Kingston, Lars contacted me and apologized for not being available when I visited Brussels. He told me that he'd been involved in a very important deal with several critical projects with numerous last minute deadlines and emergencies he had to handle. He explained that he had to work 16 hours a day in order to make his deadlines. He apologized and said he only had a couple of free evenings and those were the evenings he took me to the nightclubs."

Will was still angry and, wishing his message would somehow convey the venom in his question, he typed, "Okay, but what did he say about trying to get you to dance topless in the clubs?"

"He reminded me that he had spared no expense. He pointed out that he'd taken me to the most popular and expensive clubs in the city and had willingly bought me Champagne and bottles of wine. He explained that he'd only wanted to introduce me to the liberal lifestyle in Brussels. He told me that he only later realized that I had misunderstood his intentions, especially when he tried to convince me to remove my blouse and dance topless on the dance floor. He said that had he known I was unaware of the local custom he would have explained it all to me."

After a short pause without a comment from Will, who was shaking his head in disbelief, Denise continued, "According to Lars, contrary to what I'd learnt whilst in Brussels, it was customary for women coming into the most popular nightclubs for the first time to remove their tops and invite everyone to join them for a dance. The rest of the female customers would greet the newcomer by removing their tops as they joined her on the dance floor."

Like his previous one, Will's message could only share his thoughts; it could not convey his incredulity and sarcasm. It simply read, "Although it sounds like an interesting and fun way to meet people, I don't believe I've ever heard of that custom."

"Well, I certainly hadn't," Denise replied and continued, "Lars apologized for not telling me about the custom in advance and for not being available to meet me at the airport or to take me around town. He told me that he had enjoyed our short time together, and that he wanted another opportunity to get together again so we might better get to know one another. He proposed we continue chatting and see what else we had in common besides travel and his admiration for me."

"I think I know what happened," Will typed, again wishing he could somehow indicate the sarcasm in his statement as he detailed his educated guess as to what Lars did next, "Lars liked and agreed with every desire and wish you shared with him. You were surprised with how much alike you two were. In fact, you soon learned his desires and wishes were exactly the same as yours!"

"Yes, exactly!" Denise replied, and added, "We found we were a perfect match. Moreover, Lars explained that he was extremely pleased to find that we were so compatible, because he thought I was a beautiful and intelligent young woman and he was desirous that we should become a couple. To that end, he suggested we plan another trip together, one with the specific intent of getting to better know each other."

Extremely angry, Will inquired, "And that led to your offering Lars a tour of Jamaica?"

"Yes, exactly. Until then our relationship had been less than platonic, based exclusively on a shared interest in travel. Over time, Lars and I talked more and more about our relationship and the possibility of it becoming more than a friendship based on common interests. To that end, I said I'd consider being Lars' personal tour guide if he ever came to Jamaica. When my mother heard about my offer, the concupiscent wench was delighted at the prospect of my having a relationship and she pushed me to make a firm offer to take Lars on a tour of Jamaica."

Will had to interrupt, "Why do you continue to call your mother a wench? I thought you liked her."

"I love her. She's my mother, my friend, and my psychiatrist. We talk most mornings. Nevertheless, I loath the way she dresses, talks, and behaves. It seems as if, to her, sex is all there is to life. I often wonder how and why father puts up with her behavior. Why he doesn't spank her when she acts like a wanton jade?"

Will laughed to himself and typed, "Remember when we talked about why your father puts up with your mother's behavior? Perhaps he does spank her and perhaps she likes it! However, we can chat about that some other time. Please, continue with your story, you were saying your mother pushed you to take Lars on a tour of Jamaica?"

Initially responding to Will's questions and eventually on her own initiative, Denise confessed that the tour of Jamaica was a major step for her. She told him how she had to think about it for several days before finally deciding to take her mother's advice. Denise explained, "With mother's urging I began to open up, to be more uninhibited. In fact, in my effort to live uninhibitedly, I let mother convince me to save money by sharing a room with Lars at the various bed and breakfasts where I planned to stay during our tour of Jamaica."

"Wow!" was Will's simple response.

"I'd put a great deal of time and effort into preparing the tour, researching the locations we should visit, not only identifying nearby bed and breakfasts and restaurants, but actually visiting each one to be sure they were comfortable and provided the things their brochures and advertisements stated were available," Denise explained.

She went on about how she put together the tour and offered it to Lars, concluding, "Once it was prepared, I offered to reciprocate Lars' Brussels tour by showing him the beauty of my Jamaica. I explained that I would provide the transportation around Jamaica, but he would be responsible for his airfare, food, and half the costs for the overnight accommodations, since we would, if he had no objection, share the bed and breakfasts, i.e., the beds."

Will laughed aloud when he read the last line, assuming she was making a joke about the bed and breakfasts: I was willing to share the beds but not the breakfasts.

Denise confessed, "Over time our chats became more intimate and I was giving serious consideration to giving myself to this man, a man who constantly said that he too loved the beauties of my Jamaica and constantly told me how much he appreciated, was interested in, and cared for me."

Hoping she wouldn't be offended, Will asked, "I'm not trying to pry, but I am interested in learning exactly what happened between you and Lars when the two of you were together on the tour, sharing a room and a bed!"

Denise started by typing, "I met Lars at the airport and drove him around Kingston."

Believing, for some inexplicable reason, that Will would understand and could explain it to her, Denise decided to share an insight and typed, "At the last minute, after meeting Lars during lunch at Devon House, my mother backed off her insistence that I use the tour as an opportunity to behave in an uninhibited manner. She indicated she didn't believe he really loved or even cared for me. However, it was too late, I was unable to change my plans, and, besides, I did not fully understand why mother had changed her mind. So, because none of the places I'd rented offered refunds or rooms with two single beds, I stayed in the single-room bed and breakfasts and shared the beds with Lars."

"Your mother may have noticed something about his attitude or behavior. If you haven't already, perhaps you should ask her," Will offered.

Denise nodded to herself before she continued with the story of her tour of Jamaica with her European boyfriend. It took her many lines of chat messages, interspersed with Will's own messages gently prying for more details, before she eventually told him, "On numerous occasions throughout our tour, trying to follow my mother's initial advice, I offered myself to Lars, but he would not or could not accept or reciprocate my propositions. On the few times we attempted to engage in sexual intercourse he was unable to become aroused or incapable of providing me the sexual satisfaction my mother always told me I should expect and would enjoy."