Chapter 10: Private Rain Festival

SOFíA POURED A FRESH GLASS of wine for all of us. She held up an eye dropper.

“Are you feeling lucky, Michael?”

Are you feeling lucky, punk?

Clint’s old line ran through my head, but Sofía’s smile and the sparkle renewed in her eyes made me think otherwise.

“What’ve you got, Sofía?”

Her smile got bigger.

“Just a little surprise. It’s from Gladys. Javier and I have played with it before, in fact, but don’t you ever tell my aunt, OK?”

She didn’t really have to explain. I knew what she had in mind and I wanted it.

“Here, Michael. Javier and I will drink first.” With that she put a drop in her own glass, one in Javier’s glass, and finally one in mine. She and Javier raised their glasses and toasted each other and drained the wine.

The hell with it. I raised my glass.

“To you, Sofía, and you, Javier, and to your pre-Conquest ancestors, whoever they were and wherever they may be now.” With that I drained my own glass.

Nothing happened.

When Sofía saw the look on my face her laughter was unfeigned and sustained.

“It’s not instant, Michael.” She gestured at my trousers. “Don’t expect to go ‘Ka-Boing!’”

She put on a serious face.

“Let’s be careful, Michael, OK? It’s fun, but like you Americans say, ‘No’ means ‘No, ‘ right?”

Javier nodded.

I reached out and shook Javier’s hand. I kissed Sofía’s cheek. “You bet, guys. Absolutely.”

“I think we’ll have fun anyway, Michael.”

With that Sofía began to unbutton her blouse. She paused at the last button and reached out to touch my cheek.

“It has another name, too, Michael.”

“Oh?” I was more interested in what was under her blouse.

“It’s called La mano de la Virgen.“

When I realized what the words meant I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

“‘The hand of the Virgin?’ I can guess what the priests think of that, Sofía.”

Her smile was broad as she continued to undress.

“Who cares?”

She was right, of course.

It must have been after midnight by now and the rain had almost stopped. There was still a light drizzle, mostly mist, but the heat remained. If my experience was right, it would remain so throughout the night, perhaps cooling just a little right before dawn.

I was sweating, and not entirely because of the heat. I did have heat in one place, however. I was starting to feel it in my groin. Javier had joined Sofía in disrobing. He gestured for me to join them and when I looked at Sofía her smile told me to comply.

They say in this country you can take the person out of the village but you can’t take the village out of the person. I guess they say that everywhere. It’s one of those things that might be true and often is, but sometimes it’s not. At first glance Sofía did not strike the eye as someone who would strip off in front of a relative stranger, but as in many other countries there is a rich vein under the surface that when tapped in the right circumstances leads to interesting results.

Take Mardi Gras, or Carnival, as it’s known around the world. At my previous post in a very Catholic country in Western Europe, by an odd set of circumstances I’d found myself in an amorous embrace with the woman I thought was the lady of the house. Of the palace, really. We kept our masks on, but it had to be the Contessa Y. I never found out for sure, but the little smiles she greeted me with on the occasions we met later told me what I suspected. At least I attributed them to our Carnival night.

That wasn’t the odd part of the experience, however. I’d had the Contessa, if that’s who she was, early in the evening. What she didn’t know and I don’t think she ever found out, was that I had her daughter in the very early morning hours not long before dawn. In that case we’d ripped everything off in our hurry so we knew whom we were with. We ignored the two other rutting couples in the room. The two guys were evenly matched, it looked like, and their mutual oral stimulation was enough to set the daughter and me well on our own path to scale the heights.

The other couple had cast their masks off and I knew both of them. They didn’t pay any attention to us, as far as I knew then, but I had a hard time looking our ambassador in the eye in the next few weeks. Until one afternoon he stopped me in the hall and smiled. “Good work, Michael,” he said, and he winked. I’m serious, he winked. I managed a “Yessir” and my own smile and continued on down the hall.

The funny thing? The ambassador had been screwing his own wife. I’d thought there was a rule against that sort of thing at Carnival. We never spoke of it again, but his wife had a little smile for me the next time I saw her, so all was OK. Fortunately, neither of them saw fit to let the Contessa Y know whom I’d been with in that room.

Tonight, we were in that Carnival-like zone. Even without the drug, the effects of which I was starting to experience in the most pleasant of ways, our talk, the dances we’d seen before the rain came, all combined to put us on a track that in retrospect was the natural precursor to our dancing now.

As for the nudity we were among friends, or in my case someone Sofía knew and Javier trusted her judgment, so there was little chance of being overseen or watched by unfriendly eyes. There were no nude beaches in this country, and topless bathing in public was frowned upon. In private, standards were different.

I couldn’t forget, too, that although the current ceremony, the current form of the Rain Dance had been modernized, read: civilized, there was no denying its origin. Human sacrifice had disappeared centuries ago, for sure, but much of the surrounding ceremony and activities had persisted.

If there was no public fornication now it was only because the dancers and the spectators were able to contain themselves until they got off the public square, or at least into shadows in the side streets, before going after each other. Also, the use of the “salsa” was frowned upon, even if that particular restriction was widely flouted. In short, the dancers and their dances said quite clearly from practically the very first steps, “Catch me if you can and fuck me, if you dare.”

No one missed that message. The politician’s fault wasn’t that he misunderstood the message, it was that he failed to ask before he grabbed her. Who knows, she might have said “Yes,” although honestly from what I’d heard I doubt it. He wasn’t that attractive and she was pretty young.

Now, Sofía and Javier began to sway a little in time to music I guess they must have had in their heads. Javier had removed his brace along with his clothing. His movements were a little cautious and restricted, but he was fit and lithe and the lights in the corners Sofía had lit after the rain slacked off played off the muscles in Javier’s shoulders and torso. He was beautiful in my eyes. He and Sofía were danced apart, but their eyes when they looked at each other communicated what our literary forefathers called a ‘smouldering desire.’ I wondered who might catch fire first. The rain wasn’t going to put this one out.

The lanterns highlighted Sofía’s curves, the remaining mist and her own sweat shining as she moved and turned and let herself twist as her desires dictated. She held her hands out to me when I finished stripping. Nude, I moved closer to her. I’ll just say for the record I had no objections to moving close to Javier as well. Rubbing on smooth skin is what mattered. Finding a home someplace wet and hot and receptive is what mattered. Whose skin it was and whose mouth it was, male or female, mattered much less to me.

Sofía had begun to speak. A little above a whisper, but still a soft intimate tone.

“Javier and I have played this game since we were children, Michael. When we reached puberty we began to understand what all the stories we’d heard about the old ceremonies and sacrifices really meant. We began to understand the intimate connection between sex and death.”

She looked with affection at Javier.

“If you’re wondering,” he said, “we have never been lovers. Not in the complete sense, anyway.” A laugh. “But we’ve had a lot of fun. If it matters, I am a virgin.”

“As am I,” Sofía interjected.

Javier leaned over to kiss Sofía on her cheek.

“Remember when Bertha caught us that afternoon, Sofía?”

“Yeah, you had your hand, well, never mind. Never mind where my hand was, either.”

She laughed again.

“That was awful. We thought we were dead, truly, but it didn’t turn out that way. After she’d gotten us to talk about what we’d been doing, she kind of laughed and told us to enjoy ourselves, but to be careful. ‘Look, you two, this is powerful stuff.’ We knew she was serious. ‘Don’t forget that.’ She meant what we were doing in general, not the ‘salsa, ‘ because although we’d heard about it we hadn’t experimented. Yet. She left us alone after that, but she always kept an eye open.”

Her sigh sounded as though it came from the depths of her heart.

“His kisses were, are, wonderful, Michael.”

She held Javier’s eye as she spoke. I think she was quoting.

“He kissed me and he kissed me and his kisses were hot and sweet and they burned. And still he kissed me and I felt him everywhere and I wanted him and I knew he wanted me and it was torture, Michael, it was torture but it was so sweet I wanted to die.”

She turned to me, her eyes wide, as though startled by the run of her words.

“His kisses are fabulous, Michael. Fabulous.” She leaned close to whisper, “And he comes a lot, too.” She grinned. “A lot.”

Sofía moved forward a little more, far enough for her small breasts to touch me briefly. “It’s fun to play, Michael, you know that. This is kind of a special occasion for us, for me and Javier. With you, too. Even if the ceremony was rained out, we thought we ought to have our own little ceremony here, just ourselves.”

She held up a finger.

“Don’t expect a repeat when we return to the capital, Michael, do you understand?”

The funny thing was, I did understand almost exactly. It’s as if we were off in another time, another dimension, here in this quiet courtyard, private and screened by a wall and vegetation, and in truth in our own little world. The capital was only three or four hours away, but it might as well have been on another planet.

I pressed forward against Sofía, close enough so that she might have felt my growing erection. By the way her eyes widened for a second, I knew she had.

“I understand, Sofía. I won’t disappoint you.” Here I took a chance and kissed her on her lips. “But I certainly hope to make you happy.” I turned to Javier and to his shock and I think Sofía’s as well I stepped over and kissed him on the lips briefly. I ran my hands down his back to cup his firm buttocks. He was half-erect and we touched for a moment. “With Javier’s help, of course.”

She laughed, a trill this time.

“Good!”

She resumed her swaying. She held out her hands, one to Javier and one to me, and we joined her in following the music in our heads. I didn’t have a thought for myself, only to follow their lead. Before long Sofía moved to Javier and kissed him as they continued to sway, his erection flat against her tummy. From Javier she moved to me and repeated the kiss. I was in full extension now, too. When she finished our kiss she stepped back and smiled, swaying still by herself, and looked from me to Javier.

Javier and I moved together and repeated the kiss. I’ve already said I like girls more than boys, but I’m open-minded. This was a special occasion, an important local ceremony, and I had no intention of showing disrespect to my hosts. Indeed, I hoped to show my respect and gratitude to them personally in very specific and, dare I say it, intimate fashion. Javier was erect against me. I don’t know how far along he was, but he didn’t try to rub or move, which was probably a good thing.

We had plenty of time, there was no rush, really, but we weren’t teenagers any more and I’m pretty sure Javier hoped to prolong the festivities as long as he could and yet still preserve enough time for one repeat and perhaps even a third round.

That meant we put Sofía first. When we broke our kiss, I looked Javier in the eye and turned to look at Sofía. I turned back to catch Javier’s eye, and he nodded. She was toast and we were going to enjoy every single second it took to consume her.

The lanterns had turned hazy to me and I had the feeling of being removed, of moving as if in a dream where everything is softened, nothing is completely clear, but you are alive, your skin seems to be on fire. Where you hear every breath, every footstep. Most of all, when you touch or are touched, you feel from the tips of your fingers a straight line, if you are lucky, not just to your heart and your mind and your lips but to your center, to your cock or your pussy. If you’re a woman you feel yourself becoming wet and warm.

If you’re a guy, the reaction is immediate and visible. It’s more than an erection. It’s an alertness, if one can somehow be alert and at the same time soft and hazy and embraced by a warmth that is independent of the air.

Sensitive. Sensitive to every touch, to every smell, every aroma. As she neared me I smelled her body soap and the sweat of a healthy female. A touch, just a lingering touch, of what I knew was her perfume because she wore it now and then at my house. I smelled Javier’s sweat as well, healthy male, I knew that smell, of course, and if it turned out that I’d have a chance to see and smell for myself, I’m pretty sure his arousal would be a familiar and arousing fragrance.

I heard Sofía’s breath and Javier’s as well. Sofía began a chant, so soft I couldn’t make out the words. They weren’t in any language I knew, anyway. After a moment Javier joined her, their words coming together and combining and twisting around each other in a manner that was incomprehensible to me, yet soothed and aroused at the same time. My heart beat faster and to judge by their breathing my companions were experiencing the same.

I moved around, dancing a little and now in a trance, it seemed like, although mercifully I was not as far gone as I’m sure those boys on the altar were. I made my way slowly behind Sofía, now standing in one spot as she swayed, her arms moving gently but purposefully and making designs in the air. She flowed from one movement to another.

When I was close enough behind her I caught Javier’s eye and he moved forward. As he closed in on her Sofía moved back, only to come into contact with my erection at the top of her crease. If she had any doubts about my intentions I eliminated them when I ran my hands up her flanks. She was slippery with sweat and so was I. As if they were guided by instinct, as of course they were, my hands found my way to her breasts to hold them gently. Sofía shivered when I tweaked her nipples with the tips of my fingers.

When I withdrew my hands and returned them to her hips, Javier’s palms replaced mine. I couldn’t see what he was doing, of course, but I felt Sofía tense for a second, then a sigh escaped her as she leaned forward to kiss Javier. I’m sure his cock was hard against her tummy. Mentally I dared her to wriggle a little against him but they were experienced lovers even if they were virgins, and that experience was reflected in the way she seemingly calibrated her stimulation of Javier.

I kissed the side of her neck and tasted and relished the saltiness of her sweat and the lingering scent of soap. Sofía tilted her head away to expose more of her smooth skin and I occupied the new territory with my lips. I made my kisses as soft as I could, but as Sofía quivered I increased the pressure. She jumped when I bit her neck, a love bite, a little nip, nothing more, then relaxed in laughter.

Her breath caught at the end of her laughter, however, and I saw Javier had kneeled awkwardly in front of her. She moved her legs apart to grant him easier access. I moved around to stand beside Sofía to see Javier bestow small kisses on her left thigh. I felt her wriggle, perhaps in a “hurry up” message, but if that was it Javier was unmoved. He moved to her right thigh and continued his ministrations.

When Sofía jumped and gasped I looked down to see Javier’s hand cupping her mound, his fingers moving slowly. Sofía wriggled, partly skewered, of course, but happily so. Her wriggles only served to increase the effect of Javier’s fingers. For his part he was looking up at her to judge where to go next.

Meanwhile, Sofía’s hand had found me and she stroked me slowly. I floated along, pressing myself against her fingers and her palm, turning a little more to give her more purchase and at the same time kiss her mouth and play with her tongue.