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"Do you mind my asking," she said, as I turned around to face her. "Why your agava is smooth like a young girl's? It seems strange to see a full-grown woman without any hair down there. Is this a particular custom of Euro—I mean American—women?"
"As a matter of fact," I chuckled. "It is. "It's become the norm for Western women to shave themselves down there. I'm not exactly sure how the practice started. Maybe it's because it makes us seem younger and more alluring to our sexual partners. Or maybe it's just easier to navigate around down there. I find it heightens the sensation when I'm touched in that delicate area. But I can see how strange that must seem to someone who's used to living a natural lifestyle."
"Actually," Teuila said, thinning her eyelids as she peered at my deep cleavage atop the tight-fitting tunic. "I find it quite sexy. You look like a doll. A very curvy and sexy doll."
"I've never been called that before, but I'll take it as a compliment." I glanced in the direction of the village. "When does the festival start? What can I do to help you prepare?"
"First of all, we need to get you properly dressed for the festivities. The ceremony will start at dusk. Let's go back to my hut and see if we can make you look like a proper Anutian girl."
I paused for a moment, raising my eyebrows in curiosity.
"Is that the name of your island—Anuta?"
"Yes. It means slippery shore. Because our island is so small and far away from anybody, everything seems to just slide by us."
That's not the only thing that's slippery right now, I thought, feeling the cool sea breeze wafting over my bare vulva as I watched Teuila's sexy lips moving.
When we got back to her hut, Teuila and her grandmother fitted me with a grass skirt and decorated my hair with a garland of native flowers. The old lady pinched her eyebrows when she saw my bare pubis and she ran the back of her hand over my mound, making a comment to Teuila about my lack of lauulu. I wished it had been the young girl who had caressed me instead, but I hoped we'd soon have an opportunity to explore each other when we alone later.
I found it interesting that they left the upper half of my body exposed, draping it simply with the long floral lei that her grandmother had brought into the hut earlier. The flower petals were bright and soft, and they tickled my nipples as they fell over the fullness of my breasts. I smiled at the old woman and nodded in appreciation as she pulled it over my neck.
"What's your grandmother's name?" I asked Teuila.
"Her given name is Tausa'afia, meaning kind one, but we all call her Nona."
"You Anutians seem to prefer long and difficult-to-pronounce names. Does your grandmother have a pet name for you?"
"She calls me Te', like the French word for tea."
"That's perfect," I said, "because you're both so kind and calming."
I looked at the old woman and smiled, caressing the floral lei gently between my fingers.
"Thank you, Nona," I said, "for this lovely gift. You've both made me feel so welcome in your home. I'm looking forward to tonight's celebration."
6
Shortly after dusk, Teuila and her grandmother escorted me out to the main promenade of their village. A huge bonfire was burning at one end while her father sat on an elevated platform at the opposite end. Nona sat on the right side of the chief's platform along with his younger sons, while Te' and I sat on his left side with her sisters. This was the first time I'd seen her entire family assembled in one place, and I counted a grand total of eight siblings, all considerably younger than Teuila. Arrayed in front of us on a long serving plank were huge bowls and plates made of seashells festooned with a variety of fragrant foods. The rest of the villagers sat in family units on opposite rows lining the central esplanade, eyeing me curiously.
Further to the side of the chief's platform stood two men dressed in grass skirts with woven mats on their chests, wearing what looked to be war paint on the sides of their cheeks. In front of them rested hollowed-out logs with an animal skin pulled tightly over the top, while they held two large bones in each of their hands. When all the families had taken their designated seats, the chief raised his arm and a hush fell over the assembly.
"Amata le pati!" he hollered, nodding toward the two drummers flanking his platform.
The drummers started beating their drums rhythmically, and everyone began singing and chanting in their native dialect while the young women of each family stood to assemble in the central square. Teuila squeezed my hand, then stood up to join the other girls in the pit. As the older women began singing in their heavily accented intonation, the girls in the square began swinging and shaking their hips in rhythm with the beat. I watched in fascination as they swiveled their perfectly toned bodies to the music. Their grass skirts shimmied suggestively as their bare stomachs a
nd breasts writhed under the skimpy covering of their flowery leis.
This was the first time I'd seen Teuila's pretty figure partially unclothed since the waterfall, and my eyes widened as I watched her sexy hips swaying to the music. She had virtually no fat on her immaculately toned stomach, and my mouth watered watching her abdominal muscles twitching and flexing on her tanned midriff. Knowing she was naked under her heavy straw skirt made the display all the more intoxicating, and I began to shake my own hips on the ground, as much in sympathy with the dancers as to produce some much-needed friction on my acting clit.
After a few minutes, Te' pointed at me and curled her finger in a come-hither manner, motioning for me to join the girls in their hula dance. I looked at her with a quizzical expression shaking my head, but she danced closer to me and held out her hand for me to stand up. I looked at the other women sitting around the square as they continued singing, and they smiled and nodded at me, encouraging me to join the group. I was still feeling a bit dizzy and sore, but I knew this was an opportunity I'd regret if I didn't take part.
I clasped Te's hand and walked with her toward the other dancers, trying to mimic the shaking of their hips like I did when I was a little girl trying to balance a hula hoop. It felt awkward trying to match the vigor and pace of their movements, and as I joined the line, the older women around the camp smiled at me with big grins. Whether they were simply trying to contain their mirth at the awkward attempts of the European woman attempting to mimic their native dance technique, or they were just happy to see me joining in with the rest of the locals in the celebration, was unclear. I looked up at the chief resting on the platform, and he nodded approvingly at my awkward attempt to dance an authentic tribal hula.
At least I can blame my rubbery legs on the after-effects of the snake venom, I thought.
After ten minutes or so, I began to feel wobbly, and I motioned to Teuila that I needed to sit down. She nodded and escorted me back to our resting position, holding my hand as she continued shimmying her hips to the music. When the song ended, the hula girls sat down with their families, and a group of young men carrying long spears stood to take opposite positions in two straight lines facing one another about five feet apart.
As the drummers began beating their drums more vigorously, the two men at the far end of the line moved into the center row and began dancing in a side-step fashion toward the front of the line, thrusting their spears forward and back in a menacing fashion. The combination of their fierce expressions and scary war paint, along with the waving of their stone-tipped spears, certainly looked convincing to me. I wondered what purpose these warrior actors could find for their threatening weapons in what appeared to be an otherwise peace-loving culture.
