Chapter 11
UNINHIBITED SEX ON THE ISLAND....
"Yoohoo! Yoohoo! Anybody there?"
Nickie and Lila heard the voice through a fog of contentment. They struggled up. Nickie was clad in a manner of speaking in his undershorts, which were around his ankles. Lila's shorts and bra had been lost, but she still had her pink panties clutched in one hand. The wet white blouse she modestly pulled across her front stuck to her breasts like saran wrap.
Through the moonlit night came the ghostly shape of a sailing vessel, sails filled in the breeze. There was something unusual about the crew, they noticed. They seemed stranger than the crew of the Flying Dutchman.
"Good grief," whispered Lila. "There must be a dozen of them! And they're all naked!"
The sailors put over a dinghy and two naked men and a naked woman came to the reef. They were all tanned mahogany, and it was obvious that the sun had not missed an inch of their bodies.
They all seemed thin. Even the woman seemed stringy, especially beside Lila. Nickie could see that Lila was relieved. If she were to be rescued by a naked woman, she would not be outshown anyway.
The naked woman looked strong, all the same. Even her firm little breasts seemed athletic, as though she were in the habit of flexing the muscles hourly.
"Lose your boat?" she asked.
"Yes. We came over for lobsters and-"
"You're not the police? You're not the vice squad?"
"Oh, heavens no!" said Lila.
"Well-" the woman seemed to consider. "You can come and spend the night with us and tomorrow we'll have someone take you back to Freeport. Of course, that's only if you're not squeamish. Or prudish."
"Oh, we're neither," insisted Nickie and Lila together. They were getting very cold, and a sea spider had just crawled up Nickie's leg.
"You see," Lila explained, "we just got married. We're on our honeymoon."
The woman softened. "Oh my," she said. "How appropriate!"
Nickie and Lila piled into the dingy. "By the way," said Nickie when the sloop was under way once more, "where are we going?"
"Where?" said their hostess. "Why where else? We're going to Sex Cult Cay, of course."
"Sex Cult Cay?"
"It's something of a secret place," she said. "An uncharted island. Very small. If the government were ever to find us there'd probably be all sorts of scandal. Let me introduce myself. I am the Countess Mariet von Freeleg. This is the count." She indicated a skinny, half-bald little man.
"Oh!" said Lila, drawing in her breath. "I've heard of you. You were one of the most important members of the jet set. And then about six months ago, you and the count just dropped out of sight. Along with a cruising sloop and a whole boatload of guests."
"Right," said Mariet. "We all dropped out of the jet set, you see It was a silly, shallow life. All of us agreed that we must make our lives more meaningful. And so, during an excursion from Port-au-Prince, we found what we'd been looking for."
"What?" choroused Nickie and Lila breathlessly.
"Sex."
"Ah," said Nickie and Lila.
"But a very special kind of sex. A wild, uninhibited sex. You see, while we were in Haiti we arranged to have ourselves taken to see a voodoo fire. It's very hard to find out about these things, but then if you have enough money, you can find out anything."
"Naturally some of the proceedings disgusted us. You know, things like throwing black roosters into boiling pots-skinning cats, that kind of thing. But oh, the drums! The drums! They simply drugged us with their beat!"
"And those glistening naked bodies, strutting, leaping into the air, with all the proud show of masculinity that our stupid Western civilizations are too small-minded-too frightened to allow."
"I knew then as I let myself be lured into that circle of joyous dancers-I knew that the freedom, the nakedness, the un-self-conscious fulfillment of the body was life! Life at its best!"
"And the others agreed with me. After that Haitian orgy, we could never go back to silly little places like Majorca or St. Moritz. So we came here and found this place"
"You would ordinarily not be allowed to see how we live, but since the only alternative to taking you to Sex Cult Cay was leaving you to die on the reef, you will have a treat you will never forget. Tonight we are having a voodoo fire ourselves. You may participate."
Even as the boat approached the island the sound of the drums began. Flames leaped up from a huge fire in a clearing on the rocky little island. In its glare the visitors saw the silhouettes of banyan trees, the flash of naked, sweating bodies, dancing, jumping, shouting-their every movement speaking volumes of sex, sex, sex.
Nickie felt uneasy. Would his training stand him in good stead? Even that mighty sex warrior Lila trembled at the sight.
Mariet stepped ashore. At her appearance there were cries of "Mamaloi! Mamaloi!"
So-Countess Mariet was the grand priestess of this set-up. And that made the count the papaloi-Not that papalois were anywhere near as important as mamalois, but they did do magic.
The count however, had only one bit of magic on his mind at that instant. "I want a drink," he said. He hefted a jug and then passed it to Nickie. He drank. It was tafia, a fiery Haitian rum. It burned Nickie from the tip of his tongue to the bottom of his stomach. Lila drank, too.
"Mmm," she said. The newlyweds did not feel so frightened anymore.
Countess Mariet had sprung to the center of the circle. She raised her arms over her head and shrieked. The drums rose to a crescendo. Mariet began a fantastic dance.
She shook. Her eyes stared straight ahead unseeing, as if her entire consciousness was turned to the sensuality her body was evoking. The other cult members squatted on the ground to watch her.
"Boob-titty-boom! Boom! Boom! Boom.
The drums were deafening. There were half a dozen of these goatskin drums suspended from crossbars above the drummers' heads. Several of the players beat wildly with wooden sticks, while the others caressed the drums by drawing their fingers over the skins. It made an eerie sound. It sent shivers up and down the spines of the listeners.
Mariet's shaking was furious. Her breasts did a ballet together. Mariet was so skilled that she was able to shake one of them then the other. It was as if her breasts themselves were dancers.
Nickie and Lila felt the scorching heat from the fire on their naked bodies. They were dizzy with the heat and the noise.
"Care for something to eat?" It was the count, seemingly unperturbed by the ceremony.
Nickie and his bride accepted gratefully. The count led them away from the fire to where the feast had been laid out. It was a strange conglomeration.
There was Haitian Congo bean stew, ground rice, and rum, all from Port-au-Prince. There was broiled lobster, tenderized squid and fruit from the island itself, and as a final touch, caviar and champagne.
"I always like to eat early," said the count pholosophically. "If you don't you'll get all involved in the sex and wake up in the middle of the night with some woman on top of you and your stomach growling." He made it sound like a terrible fate.
Nickie's eyes turned back to the area of the dance and followed the serpentine motions of Mariet's writhing body. Now, like a lusting demon, she moved among her followers, pausing by each male, swaying, quivering, until each was drawn into a state of pure sexual frenzy.
Suddenly she was before Nickie and Lila. In her hand was a jug of rum. She poured it into a bowl and lighted a match. Flames sprang up.
The mamaloi upended the bowl over their heads. A shower of sparks filled the black night as the burning rum scattered.
"Ahiee!" A great cry went up from the cultists. "You're very favored," the count said as Mariet moved away. "Your marriage has been 'fixed."'
"Fixed?"
"Yes. The mamaloi has done her magic. You will stay together forever. Nothing can part you."
"Oh dear," said Lila uneasily.
"The circle's forming! Come on! Come on!" cried Mariet gaily. "Tonight it's leap frog."
And leap frog it was.
Bent over on their hands and knees, the women formed the circle, their rears thrust high into the air. The men arranged themselves in leap frog position over the women. Mariet blew a whistle. Instantly all the men thrust themselves into the depths of their eagerly waiting partners.
For an instant, Nickie, was confused. Then he felt a strong tug on his manliness. "Oh, hurry, hurry!" cried a voice under him. He plunged in, and she bucked madly, like an untamed horse.
Her breath began to come in gasps. "Oh hurry! Hurry!" she urged him again. Nickie wondered what was wrong. Maybe the blood was rushing to her head from being in that position. The whistle blew again.
"Ooh!" she said in disappointment. "We didn't make it! You have to leap now."
He leaped.
Now he had another partner. The drums pounded. There were shouts and cries of ecstasy. His partner wriggled under him. Purposefully Nickie charged into the fray.
"Ah!" Nickie's partner gave a cry of joy as she exploded into bliss.
"Tweet!" went the whistle. Nickie leapfrogged to the next girl. Her eager rump rose to meet him. Nickie was getting into the swing of things now. With each partner he enthusiastically sampled sexual delights.
He reeled happily under the influence of her upward thrusting rear and swigs of tafia which he took to sustain himself whenever the jug was passed.
"Whee!" cried Nickie repeatedly. He wished his old instructor from seduction school were here to see this. Or most of it, anyway.
For Nickie did have a couple of bad moments during the orgy that he wouldn't have wanted anyone to know about. One was when he became too eager and leaped before the whistle was blown.
He'd landed piggy back on top of another man, a sensation that neither of them found pleasant!
Another was when he entered a tunnel that somehow seemed very familiar. The climax Lila quickly caused him was more than he could bear. He pitched forward over her head and banged the back of his skull on a rock.
Everything went black.
Poor Nickie. It seemed that so often his copulations with Lila ended in disaster.