The Thorn Tree Cafe

"I thought since we were going to a dance, I should dress for the occasion. What do you think of my gown?"

I smiled.

"It's very becoming, but how did you explain that to the women?"

"Women can communicate even though we do not share the same language. I would have thought a man as old as you would have learned that by now."

It was without thinking I replied that perhaps I needed a woman to teach me. Lisa gave me an odd look for a moment, then waved.

"We are off to the dance if you would care to join us."

The first dance, called the aduma is a sort of jumping thing done by the young men and looks very simple to do. It is not. As the women begin to sing, the young men form part of a circle, the open side of which faces the young girls singing with the women. One or two of the young men will step into the circle, grow ramrod straight, and launch themselves into the air using only the muscles of their feet without ever resting on their heels.

The first time I saw this I was amazed at the heights the men can achieve in this way. Once I attempted it, much to the laughter of the Maasai men and women, I was in awe of their physical strength. I could barely get my body six inches off the ground.

Lisa was fascinated as well.

"They make it seem so easy, and they jump so high."

"Well, they've been practicing practically since they could walk."

"Will you give it a go?"

I laughed.

"I think not. I did once, and embarrassed myself. Physical strength is important to the Maasai people because they have been warriors forever. I would think civilized women care about other things than a man's strength."

I chuckled.

"A few I have known seem to be more impressed by the size of a man's wallet than the size of his muscles."

"I can understand how a young woman would be attracted to the highest jumper. It is somewhat like young women gushing over the best footballer on the local team. I was never been particularly impressed by a man's strength nor his looks, but I do understand. Yes, a woman does enjoy living comfortably, be we think about other traits as well."

"And what might those be?"

Lisa smiled coyly.

"Surely you would not have me give up all the secrets we women have?"

The last of the warriors had done their jumps to the increasing pitch and tempo of the singing, and now formed a line in front of us. The unmarried young women of the village did the same, one woman across from the man of her choice. As the singing continued, the each man began to chant and thrust his pelvis at the woman in front of him.

Lisa tugged on my sleeve.

"Are they doing what it looks as if they are doing?"

"Yes. This is another mating dance. If the girl is interested she will respond in kind. There, in the center, see?"

The woman across from the man was matching his actions with thrusts of her own pelvis. The actions of the two in the center quickly became that of most of the couples. I felt Lisa brush against me for a second, and then she walked in front of me. She smiled as she thrust her pelvis at me, then raised her eyebrows. The singing became intermixed with a series of titters and giggles from the other women.

Lisa said, "Well?" and gave me the same look again.

It felt really odd to be thrusting my pelvis at Lisa. It was rather like making love to a woman in front of the entire village. Of course I understood the reason for the dance and knew there would be no actual coupling of the pairs before marriage, but it was still embarrassing. It was also more than a bit intriguing because Lisa had initiated it. None of the women I had known in my life would never ever have made such a randy display, much lest done so of their own accord.

Lisa kept moving closer and closer until finally, her thrusts nearly brushed the front of my bush trousers. I managed to keep my own thrusts within what I considered the bounds of propriety, much to Lisa's glee.

"I do believe the man who shoots charging lions and remains calm when a huge snake is about to strike is afraid of a woman", she chuckled.

"No, this is just somewhat of an odd situation. I'm not certain how to react."

She smiled.

"One should always react as one feels like reacting...barring violence, of course."

The singing and dancing stopped a few minutes later and the people began filing back to their individual huts. The two women who had taken Lisa into their hut came back with her clothing in their arms. As they handed Lisa her boots, pants, shirt and hat, they jabbered in Maa. Lisa asked what they were saying.

"The women say you should keep the dress and collar because you are a good woman and will need them to dance for me so I will think you are beautiful and marry you. They say you will have many, many children for me and make me rich."

Lisa turned to the women, nodded and then hugged each in turn. I believe the women were a bit taken aback by the hug, but they smiled and walked back to their huts. Lisa, Mjamba and I continued on toward my base camp. We were about an hour's walk away, and I knew our side trip to the Maasai village would allow the rest of the safari to already be at the base camp and getting things ready for our dinner.

After our last dinner in the bush, Lisa and I sat in chairs overlooking the plains and sipped at our glasses of scotch whisky. She was quiet for several minutes, just staring out at the darkening grassland, then turned to me.

"A month ago, I believed I would learn enough about the animals and people to write my book. I would achieve a certain renown for my work, and would live out my life in the comforts of London."

She chuckled then.

"What I have learned is there is more to learn than I could ever hope to learn in such a short time."

"Yes, Africa is a place of many layers. On the surface, the part most people read about or see when they take part in a hunt, are the sights of the animals and people. Under that, the part most people do not care to see, is the way the animals and people live and why they do as they do. Beneath that still are the creatures almost never seen, but that play their role just as adeptly as the others. All these things and more are interwoven into the real Africa.

"You should not feel discouraged. I have lived in Africa for ten years and have seen more than any visitor, and yet I am still fascinated by new things every day. I am sure your book will enlighten many who believe they know all there is to know about Africa, for you have seen and experienced more than most by only observing and not hunting.

"I do hope that is true. I will do my very best to portray Africa as I experienced it and not as have other authors. Africa is indeed the paradise I told you I would write into my book."

"It sounds as if you have come to like the country."

Lisa sipped her scotch, then swallowed.

"I have given that matter much thought. On that first evening, you asked me to tell you my opinion once I had spent two weeks here. It has been a month, and I can truthfully say Africa is a wonderful place. I could indeed live here, though it would be difficult at times."

I shrugged.

"Nairobi would seem much like London after a time. I am certain you would fit into white society there."

"It is not fitting in that would make living here difficult. It would be living here by myself. I would need someone...a partner and friend...to enjoy life with who understands. I fear the people of Nairobi society would be very much like those in London - comfortable in their fancy dress and lavish parties, but not understanding life for what it truly is."

"And what would that be?"

"Life is the understanding of where we fit in the grand scheme of things without the trappings of all that money and status can buy. It is you understanding that the cobra was only warning us. It is the zebra stallion doing everything he can to continue the species because that is what a zebra stallion does. It is the lions taking only the old and weak that there may continue to be lions in the future. It is the Maasai women who do most of the work of life so their men can protect them and raise cattle so they can survive."

"If you can put all that into a book about a woman finding romance in Africa, you will have accomplished your goal."

Lisa put her hand on my arm.

"No, I will have not, for there is yet one thing I have yet to experience."

Her hand on my arm had set me atingle, so I was a few seconds in asking her what that experience might be. She stroked my arm as she answered.

"I have found romance in Africa, I believe, but I have not experienced the result. I do so need to have that experience if I am to write about it in an intelligent manner."

The realization of what Lisa had just said took me by surprise.

"Lisa, are you saying..."

She stroked my cheek.

"I need to feel what the mare felt with the stallion to understand."

My tent was further from the rest of the camp and would afford more privacy, so I took her there. My cot was only large enough for one, but with Lisa's naked body pressed tight against mine and her soft thigh over my legs, we managed.

It was with some surprise that once inside, she did not blow out the lamp. She merely smiled as she unbuttoned the shirt, pulled it from her shoulders and tossed it on the small table on the other side. Her bare, soft, lush breasts swayed gently as she unbuckled the belt of her trousers and rocked her hips to remove them.

Lisa wore no other undergarments, and as the trousers moved down her smooth thighs, the tuft of blonde hair that covered her mound and sex became visible. She sat down on the bed to finish taking the trousers off and then tossed them aside.

"Are you going to remain dressed?" she asked.

Once I had disrobed, an undertaking made more complicated by my rigid manhood, I joined Lisa on my cot and then arranged the mosquito netting around us. She snuggled into my arms to make room for me when I stretched out.

I kissed her then, and as her lips mouthed mine, I gently cupped her right breast, then rubbed my thumb over the nipple. Lisa moaned and flicked her tongue over my lower lip, then eased away.

"William, you don't need to be so gentle. This isn't my first time. There was a man in Paris..."

I put my finger on her lips to hush her, then stroked down her back, over the curve of her hip, and then between her thighs until I felt the soft hair over he lips.

"It's not mine either."

Lisa moaned a little as I separated the blonde hairs, and she caught her breath when my fingertip slipped between them. She stroked her breast, then lifted it to my waiting lips. I mouthed the stiffening nipple as I stroked up and down just inside her slit.

Her hand on my back tensed when my finger found her entrance and slipped just inside the satin passage. She moaned again when I moved it out and smoothed the slipperyness to her slender inner lips. When that fingertip touched the small bump at the top of her lips, Lisa rocked her pelvis into mine. I felt the mass of blonde hair on her mound rubbing against my cock as she tried to excite herself on my fingertip.

My finger had found her to be moist when it first entered her passage. The second time, she was nearly flowing with arousal. I nipped the nipple in my mouth gently as my finger plunged deep inside her and then slowly stroked out and back up to her clit again. After a rock of her hips, Lisa moaned.

"Oh, William, yes...yes....yes."

I pulled gently on her hip to open her a little more, then moved my body until my manhood was pressing on her now swollen lips. A few thrusting motions let it part those lips and slip between them. For a while, I stroked slowly between them and up and over her little bump. When Lisa began lifting her hips in an attempt to move my manhood lower, I let it do as she wanted.

Lisa's entrance felt snug, but slippery with the wet and slightly sticky flow of her juices. After gently pushing until I was sure I was positioned correctly, I pressed in earnest. Lisa gasped and rocked her body a little, and my cock slid inside her half its length. I pulled back, made a few short strokes and then pushed in again. When Lisa's swollen lips pressed against the base of my shaft, she moved her thigh high upon my leg and pushed into me firmly. Her voice had a dreamy quality that made her words just that much more arousing.

"Mmm...yesssss... just like this."

I began with slow strokes that were quickly met by Lisa thrusting her body against me. I had been with two other women in my life, and neither had done so much to arouse the lust I was feeling. I was making love to Lisa, but she was making love to me at the same time. It was an experience I'd not had before, and it was incredibly arousing. I found myself having to think of something other than the woman attempting to stroke herself over my manhood in order to not end the pleasure much too fast.

Holding back became more and more difficult. Lisa changed quickly from only rocking into my thrusts to ramming her body into mine and using her nails to rake my back. Her breath was coming in gasps interspersed with moans, and her passage became more slippery. When the end came, it did so because I was no longer in control. The tightness of Lisa's contracting passage as the first waves of her orgasm swept through her caused a tightening in my loins. I held back as long as I could, but then gave in to that tightening. As Lisa cried out and dug her nails into my back, I groaned and felt the surge of seed fly through my shaft and splash inside Lisa's pulsing body.

Lisa cried out again and then yet again as I rammed deep inside her with each spurt. I had shot my last after three more, but Lisa's passage continued to milk at me with little contractions that slowly became less strong.

When she stopped panting, Lisa pulled her breasts into my chest, kissed me, and then sighed.

"Now I can write about what my character will feel."

The next morning, I woke up with Lisa holding me tight. Her eyes fluttered and she smiled.

"Good morning."

"Good morning to you too. Did you sleep well?"

"Mmmm...better than ever before."

"We need to get up if I'm going to get you to Nairobi in time to catch the train."

Lisa sighed.

"I know."

We ate breakfast under the dining fly while a few vultures soared over the plains. Sometime during the night, lions had probably made a kill, and the vultures were biding their time until the other scavengers had left. Lisa didn't say anything. She appeared to be thinking, so I didn't offer to converse.

I put her on the train to Mombasa that afternoon after stopping by the Norfolk Hotel to pick up her other things. She was again dressed in a frilly dress, huge hat and slippers, and she hugged me good-bye just before the conductor called out the train was ready to depart. I saw her sitting by a window and waving as the steam poured from the engine drivers. A minute later, she was gone.

}{

Two days after she left, Mjumba and I were trailing the lion that had been wreaking havoc among the Maasai cattle herd. We found the lioness in a thick stand of brush and approached it slowly. The lioness growled, a low warning growl, then leapt from the brush and headed for us. The heavy.470 bullet smashed through her chest and then spine. She collapsed on the ground, pawed at the grass for a minute or so and then lay still.

As I examined the lioness, it was plain to see the cause of her cattle raids. At some point in her life she had met up with a porcupine and had taken several quills to her face. It was probable she was nearly blind and would have been in pain. The slow moving cattle were the only prey she was able to take down in order to eat.

As I stepped away from the dead lioness, Lisa's words came back to me.

"Life is the understanding of where we fit in the grand scheme of things without the trappings of all that money and status can buy."

I knew where I fit. I fit just where I was, shooting a lion to protect the food source and wealth of the Maasai village. Mjamba was where he fit as well, using his knowledge and skills to assist me. The lioness had known where she fit as well, and had only been trying to survive. I wondered if Lisa had figured out where she fit.

After I'd watched Lisa board the train for Mombasa and before it left, I'd toyed with the idea of asking her to stay. That was ridiculous, of course. While Lisa was unlike any other woman I'd ever known, she was not a woman to live in Africa, no matter what she said. Her background was life on her father's estates, elite balls in London, and probably the fame of her book once she had written it.

I then rationalized making love to her that night as just something I'd done to comply with the directive from Newland, Tarlton & Company to always please the client. I was a bit uncomfortable with that justification because it made me feel a little like the women in Nairobi who sell their bodies.

No, it couldn't be that, because I could never lower myself to that state, no matter what Newland, Tarlton & Company might direct. I had felt something for Lisa. I just didn't think she felt anything for me, but that wasn't surprising. My other intimate encounters with women had been the result of their learning of my profession. I supposed what Lisa had said about women and footballers could also be true about women and professional hunters, and that was the reason she'd wanted me to make love to her.

That final explanation to myself was somewhat painful, but served to allow me to mostly forget. Only when I sat in a chair sipping scotch whisky and staring out at the vast expanse of grass land of an evening did her memory come back, and then it was more of a haze than an actual picture in my mind.

Six months later, I drove the lorry from the train station in Nairobi to the Thorn Tree Café. I'd just put a hunter from England on the train along with several cases of trophy heads and hides salted down to make the trip and be mounted by some London taxidermist. He was happy and I was several pounds richer. I'd decided to spend a couple of those pounds on a good meal and a couple glasses of scotch before returning to my base camp.

I'd finished eating and carried my glass of scotch to the thorn tree to check for any messages from someone I knew. The bright pink paper caught my eye immediately. No man in Nairobi would ever use pink paper. Usually they used white or even a strip torn from a cigarette package. I bent slightly to look at the writing.

The words were made by a fountain pen and were obviously in the flourishing hand of a woman. I felt a surge of emotion when I read those words.

William, Book done and selling. In Norfolk Hotel 2 months. Have khakis and want to see the stallion again. If he's of like mind, please come get me. Lisa }{

Lisa came down the stairs of the Norfolk with a sheepish grin on her face. She wore a dress as before, and was as radiant as she'd been on that first day at the train station. All the thoughts I'd been afraid to think flooded back as she made that sensuous walk from the stair to where I stood.

"So, William, does this mean you like me?"

"Does this mean you intend to stay?"

"I can do the Maasai mating dance again if that will answer your question."

"I thought you didn't want to be tied down with a household."

"I didn't...not until I came here and met you. I thought that would mean I would lose my independence. That's what happened to my mother when she married my father. I started thinking about that on the ship back to England. You're not like my father, not at all, and you didn't treat me like I was a woman, well, except for that one night, and even then, you were different from any other man I've known. You treated me like an actual person. That's what changed my mind."

I smiled.