THE SMALL MAN

Chapter 4

The flight to South America required that we change airlines at one point, and then change flights once again later in the day.  All in all, almost the entire day was needed to get us to the large airport below the equator where we would board a charter airplane, and be taken to a yet-smaller airport deep in the jungle.  We stayed that night in a rundown hotel, both of us too exhausted to even think of sex.  Well, maybe I should amend that.  Actually, I did think of sex, but Sharon made it clear that she wasn't interested, and that was that.

Early the next morning, we awakened to the strange sounds and smells of a foreign city, made even more so by the fact that we were surrounded by tropical rain forest.  Even though it was early winter there, our relative closeness to the equator meant the morning was warm, and the day would be even more so.  Sharon told me to be thankful it wasn't summer, as it had been on her last trip, and as I tried to imagine temperatures thirty degrees higher, with accompanying humidity, I was.

The next leg of our trip would be by boat, and to begin it we made our way to the nearby dock right after breakfast.  The man who Sharon introduced as "Captain Ron" was just about as scruffy looking and unkempt as you can imagine, and it almost seemed as if he were trying to live up to an image he had in mind of how a riverboat captain should look.  Whatever, he was nice enough, although he did spend more time than necessary ogling Sharon, and more than once he "accidentally" brushed up against her.  Guess I can't blame him for doing that, though.  I do the same thing.  She's a very sexy young woman, and seems to broadcast signals that she's ready for a man.

Captain Ron took us upriver at the best pace his little boat could manage.  We had a cabin on the boat, but since the nights were so sultry, and the moving air felt so good, we usually slept in hammocks on the foredeck.  That, combined with the very-revealing Bikini swimsuit Sharon wore most of the time, made the trip far more interesting that I had anticipated.

After more than three days chugging upriver, stopping occasionally for fuel, the boat at last tied up at a tiny dock by a few buildings that appeared to be no more than huts.  Captain Ron announced that we were "here," which may have been true enough, but was in no way enlightening.  Unlike the towns I was used to, this one had no signs whatsoever.  Sharon seemed to be satisfied, and I suppose she recognized the place from her earlier trip.  Whatever, she instructed me to offload our baggage and supplies, and I hurried to obey.  Soon we were standing alone on the dock, watching our only connection to civilization disappearing down the river.  Lonely feeling, that.

Before I had a chance to feel isolated, Sharon told me to carry as much as possible of our stuff, and to follow her.  She picked up our suitcase and another piece of luggage that held the things she'd need for her work, then walked off the dock, heading for a nearby building.  I managed to get everything else attached to various parts of my anatomy, then did my best to keep up with her.

We stayed in that building for the night, during which Sharon seemed to be more sexually excited than ever.  She even allowed me to penetrate her treasure with my tiny little penis, which was something that had become more and more infrequent as she trained me, as she continued to say, in preparation for my lifetime of never again being able to cum.  As we coupled, I tried to delay my orgasm for as long as possible, in order to give myself as much time as possible to revel in the sensations of being in her velvety-smooth vagina.  However, that didn't make much difference, and in the space of just a few minutes, I had lost control of myself and my balls had emptied.

Sharon then moved up to my mouth, as had been our usual practice for a long time.  As she encouraged me to lick and suck to the best of my ability, she kept saying things like, "I hope you liked your last fuck, honey.  Your last cum better have been a good one, because it really was your last one."  Over and over she whispered those things to me, until at last her head snapped back into the shaft of moonlight that was flooding through the window.  As I stared in fascination at her magnificent breasts, and rock-hard nipples, she hissed once again, "Oh, God!  Eat your last load!  Suck it out of me!  Oh, Jesus . . . H. . . . Chrisssttt!"

I don't know that our lovemaking that night was any better than before, but Sharon's arousal seemed to be as least as great as ever, is not more so.  For my part, I loved being allowed to cum, and then further allowed to give her an orgasm as well.  As she had mentioned, I do indeed remember that particular night, and wish it could happen again.

Early the next day we were awakened by a knock at the door of our hut, and Sharon hurriedly threw on her robe.  After she opened the door, I could hear a man saying something in broken English, and was sure that he was one of the guides who had been hired to take us to the village where Sharon was to resume her anthropological study.  That was confirmed when she closed the door, then urged me to get dressed as quickly as possible, since the guides were ready to leave.

We dressed quickly, then ate some snack bars for our breakfast, all the while carrying our things to the dugout canoe that rested in the river beside the dock.  The canoe looked so small and fragile that I was sure it would be nothing but suicide to get in such a thing, but Sharon unconcernedly stepped lightly into it and seated herself in the center.  When she indicated I was to sit on the board right behind her, I tried to pretend I had no misgivings, but apparently wasn't very successful.  She chuckled at my cautious movements, then said, "Don't worry, honey.  These things are safe as houses."  That may have reassured me back in the States, but given the nature of the "house" where we had spent the night, I still wasn't entirely satisfied.

We proceeded upriver without mishap, though, and in just a few minutes I was comfortable with the way the two men handled the paddles with evident skill.  After all, Sharon had done this same thing without me along less than a year ago, so it was undoubtedly going to be okay.  Anyway, I had no choice in the matter.  She had chosen our mode of transport, and I was nothing but a passenger.  I decided to mute my fears and just enjoy the scenery, which was spectacular to a small town boy from the high desert of eastern Colorado.

Less than a mile above the village where we'd spent the night, the canoe turned into a small river that entered from the side.  Given the small size of the river, just a large creek actually, I no longer had to wonder why we'd left the relative comfort of Captain Ron's boat.  There was no way it could have navigated this tributary, but the small canoe seemed perfectly suited for it.  Again I saw that Sharon knew what was best, and made the decision to just let things happen at her direction.

The two men paddled effortlessly and continuously, and the miles faded away behind us.  It would have been easy to believe that the four of us were the last people in the world, and this jungle paradise had been created just for us.  That frame of mind continued through the remainder of the day, and remained even when we at last pulled to the bank and set up camp for the night. 

As we ate our evening meal, Sharon talked to the men in what I assumed was either Portuguese or Spanish.  They answered in the same language, interspersed with enough broken English that I could tell the three were discussing the next day's activities.  At last the conversation ceased, and she turned to tell me that tomorrow we would leave the canoe at this location, then follow a trail that would eventually lead us to the village that was our destination.  Again, I merely accepted Sharon's plans, knowing my input wasn't needed.
___________________

After an early start again the next morning, we made our way up a faint trail that led away from the water.  One of the guides led the way, while the other walked behind us.  Both carried rifles at the ready, and I was again concerned.  When I asked Sharon if we were in danger, she merely said, "We'll be okay, honey.  They're just watching for wild pigs.  They're considered a delicacy in these parts, and people never miss a chance to bag one."  That quieted my fears, and once again I decided to just mind my own business.

It must have been about noon when the man walking in front of us stopped abruptly, then held up his hand to signal us to do the same.  The other man walked around us, and the two of them stood there talking in low voices, all the time intently scanning the jungle growth that surrounded us.  Suddenly a loud cry came from about 50' directly in front of us, and then the jungle noises stopped, leaving us in a bubble of complete silence that was frightening to me.

Sharon was again unconcerned, and after cupping her hands to her mouth, she rendered a reasonably good imitation of the cry.  Until that moment, I hadn't suspected the sound had come from a human throat, but then the understanding burst through my brain that we had at last encountered someone from the village where we were headed.  She confirmed that by saying softly to the two men, "Please stand behind us.  They should recognize me from my last visit."

The guides quickly stepped back, allowing Sharon to walk to the forefront.  She also intently scanned the underbrush, then whispered, "I see one of them.  He's from the village."

She then turned and spoke quietly to the men, telling them they needn't accompany us any further, which seemed to provide a great deal of relief to them.  After they confirmed the date when they were to meet us at the creek bank, they turned and hurriedly retraced our steps back to their canoe.  Much more than a little, I wished we could have followed them. 

As soon as the guides were out of sight, Sharon said to me, "Honey, I need you to do exactly as I say from now on.  Things could get pretty sticky if you don't.  Okay?"

Of course I assented.  There was little other choice, but even more than that, I was simply programmed to follow her lead, and obey her orders.  Therefore, whatever she asked of me, I would do.

She continued, "In their culture, men are not allowed to wear clothing at any time, other than something to protect their feet.  Please get undressed now, so they can see you're following their practices.  Since women wear nothing but a loincloth and shoes, I'll do the same."  She then began to remove her clothes, and after a slight hesitation, I hurried to do the same.  Soon I was completely naked, which wasn't all that new to me, since I very rarely wore clothes when at home.  However, I'd never before been naked in the outdoors, and especially so when strangers were watching me from the bushes.

Sharon stuffed our clothes in her backpack, after taking out a long scarf or sash.  She wrapped the thing around her midsection, then ran one end between her legs, bringing it up behind her and securing it in the part that encircled her waist.  All the time she was doing that, her magnificent breasts were swaying in time to her movements, and it was more than I could do to not stare at them.

After a quick glance at me, Sharon raised one hand in the air and walked forward.  She paused after we'd walked about 30', and then, staring intently at a certain part of the undergrowth, repeated a single word over and over.  I had no idea what she was saying, but it obviously had the intended effect.  A brown man, probably shorter than Sharon's 5'-8", stepped from the shadows, then stood before us.

My startlement faded quickly when he said questioningly, "S'run?  S'run?"

I had no idea what that word meant, but when Sharon nodded her head vigorously, then asked in the same tone, "Ramon?," I knew the fellow had been saying her name.

She then reached back and took my hand.  Pulling me up beside her, she pointed to me and said another unknown word.  The fellow looked me up and down, then pointedly staring at my fear-shrunken penis, began to laugh.

The reason for his amusement was pretty evident, and it hung there for all to see.  Unlike my shrunken member, his was huge to my eyes.  Even though he was at least 6" shorter than my height, his soft penis was easily twice the size of mine when it was fully erect.  I was sure that if he had a hardon, it would be three times the volume of mine, and probably too large in diameter for my fingers to close around it.

Sharon was obviously as fascinated with his cock as I was, for she seemed to have eyes for nothing else.  Still, she was totally in charge of the situation, which was evident when she said some words that were probably orders, then pointed up the trail.  Ramon dropped his eyes from her breasts, where they had been fixed for some time, then said a word of assent.  He turned and began to walk up the trail, with us trailing behind.  Sharon had replaced her own backpack, as I had done with mine.  In addition, I struggled with the two pieces of luggage.  In the heat of the jungle, that load was almost more than I could handle.

We walked probably an hour up the trail, and I was very glad to feel the temperature moderating as we climbed higher.  Just when I had made up my mind I couldn't take another step, Ramon stopped walking.  Cupping his hand to his mouth, he gave out a warbling shout that I had difficulty believing came from a human throat.  His call was answered almost immediately from farther up the trail, and then we began to walk again.

In another 100 yards, we entered a clearing that was alive with people, and I knew we had at last arrived at our destination.  That was confirmed when several women began to run toward us, with obvious pleasure mirrored on their faces.  Their own state of dress mirrored Sharon's, and in an instant I was reinvigorated.  You see, I've always been what Sharon calls a "tit freak," and right then about a dozen young women were running toward me, wearing nothing but loin cloths and sandals.  Breasts of all sizes and descriptions were bouncing there for my inspection, and I noticed little else.

As the women approached us, their cries of, "S'run!  S'run!," rang out, and I knew they were happy to see their friend back among them.  On her part, Sharon seemed equally happy, and as each woman in turn hugged her in greeting, she returned the hugs and called out their names.

Behind the women were the men of the village, each one just as naked as Ramon and I.  To my utter amazement, their cocks were equal to his in size, or in some cases, just slightly smaller.  Never before had it occurred to me that a group of men could be so well-endowed, and even the sight of all the exposed breasts could not keep my own inadequate member from shrinking still further with embarrassment.

When the shy children at last approached us, I saw that even the boys among them had penises equal to or larger than mine.  The girls seemed to be developed as much as I would think normal for their age level, however, which was strange to me.  I had no idea why males of the group would be so well-developed, but females wouldn't.  It was something I'd have to ask Sharon about, when we were alone later.

There was one young woman who seemed to be Sharon's favorite.  After she had greeted all the women, Sharon beckoned me to her side, then introduced me to the young woman by using a strange word.  The girl, whom Sharon called what sounded like "SeeSee," looked at me exactly like Ramon had, namely she stared at my crotch and smiled. 

Sharon had been talking to the people in a language that was completely unfamiliar to me, and I was at a loss to know what was being said.  To my immense relief, SeeSee said in halting English, "No.  Your talk, S'run.  I need learn."  Sharon nodded her head, then said, "Okay."  She then continued in English, speaking slowly and clearly to help the girl understand what was being said.

Sharon asked, "Where is your husband?"  The girl replied, "He riding."  That answer seemed to please Sharon in some strange way, and she smiled oddly before saying simply, "Good.  That's what they're for, isn't it?"  I hadn't seen any evidence of horses anywhere in the compound, but guessed they were probably kept somewhere out of sight.  Still, Sharon's reply struck me as odd.  Why would she think men were "for" riding.  Maybe the girl meant her husband was out hunting on horseback, and Sharon was confirming that as men's work.

SeeSee looked at me again, then asked, "Is husband?  For sure?"

Sharon smiled and nodded, then smiled even more broadly when SeeSee continued, "He little.  Why he still tall?"  Sharon replied, "Yes," then held the finger and thumb of one hand about two inches apart, which produced paroxysms of laughter among all the assembled women, and also the men, to my extreme embarrassment.  She then added, "We need your help.  He needs (foreign word)."  I had no idea what it was I needed, but evidently I was the only one there who didn't know.  Every head in the immediate vicinity nodded vigorously.

SeeSee then said, "Yes.  He need it.  When do?"

Sharon replied, "Tonight.  Okay?"

SeeSee then said something to the other women gathered around us, and when they nodded and made sounds of assent, she replied, "Yes.  Tonight good.  We do."

That seemed to settle the issue among them, although I was left completely in the dark.  It seemed certain that something was going to happen that night, and it would be something that I needed.  I have to admit that, deep inside, I harbored thoughts that maybe somehow the women were going to do something to me that would make my penis as large as those of the men in the village.  Sharon had always told me that my little dick was too small to satisfy a real woman, and I hoped against hope that she had brought me here to have something done that would make it a size of which she could be proud.  Hope springs eternal, I guess.

SeeSee escorted us to a hut standing on the edge of the clearing, which Sharon explained to me was where we would be staying during our visit.  I was very glad to have a place to drop the load I'd been carrying, and the pallet of leaves on the floor looked pretty inviting to my tired eyes.

As soon as SeeSee left us, I asked Sharon the question that had been nagging at me for several minutes.  I was embarrassed to do it, but still was able to muster the courage to ask, "Why do all the men have such big penises?  Are all men around her like that?"

She laughed, then replied, "You noticed that, did you?  Don't they look wonderful, though?  As far as why, well, I guess the best answer is natural selection.  The women in this culture have been in charge for ages, and it's been their practice to let only the well-endowed men reproduce.  Any man with a little thing like yours isn't allowed to father children.  Pretty simple thing, when you think about it."

Standing there in red-faced shame, I mumbled my agreement.  I had known for a long time that my cock was much too small to give any sort of pleasure to my wife, and that was why she had always preferred oral sex.  Still, to hear her put it so bluntly only made me even more ashamed of myself.

She then told me that she wanted to distribute the gifts she'd brought for her friends, and said, "Honey, why don't you try to get some rest now, and I'll go meet the rest of the people in the village.  There'll be a ceremony to welcome us tonight, and you'll need to be rested up for that."  With that, she left the hut, and I gratefully lay down on the pallet, where I immediately fell asleep.
__________________

I was awakened by Sharon's touch, and her voice saying, "Better get up now.  It's about time for the ceremony to get started, and you wouldn't want to miss it."

It was full dark as my eyes opened, the only illumination being provided by a large bonfire in the center of the clearing.  Sharon was more shadow than anything, and it was only her familiar voice and scent that identified her to me.  I stood from the pallet, then was struck by gnawing hunger pangs.  When I mentioned that I was starving, since we hadn't eaten since having some trail snacks many hours ago, she said, "Try to wait just a little longer, honey.  I want you to be really hungry for the ceremony."

I assumed we'd be served lots of food at some sort of dinner to welcome us, so resolved to wait just a little longer.  I'd been hungry before, and lived through it.  Surely I could do the same at least once more.

We left the hut and walked toward the fire.  It was surrounded by many more people than I had seen earlier, and to me that confirmed my earlier guess about SeeSee's husband being out hunting.  It would surely require lots of effort to feed even a village as small as this one, and I thought that the men probably spent most of their time doing that.

As we approached the group, an aisle opened, almost as if they had been awaiting us.  We walked through the cleared space, and stopped when we reached three women standing there watching us, with their backs to the fire.  SeeSee was one of them, but I didn't recognize the other two.  They stood in silence, until Sharon brought us to a halt a few feet from them.  Then the oldest of the three women began to speak, although I had no idea what she was saying.  She gestured to Sharon, then to me, then to a large cup that sat beside her on a piece of tree stump that served as a table.  As she spoke, she would pick up things that looked like dried leaves, roots, and berries, then crumble them in her hands and drop them in the cup.

At last she stopped speaking, then picked up the cup and handed it to Sharon.  Sharon said a few words in their language, then held the cup in front of my mouth.  She said quietly, "Drink this.  It'll make things better for us.  Every woman in the village helped make this drink for you, so please don't offend them by refusing to drink it."

She then brought the cup to my lips, and when I opened them, tipped it higher.  My first inhalation told me what was in the cup, although it was nearly masked by the herbs that had been added to the liquid.  I had been drinking Sharon's golden nectar for long enough to recognize its distinctive aroma, and the scent that rose from the liquid in the cup told me immediately just what Sharon meant when she said every woman in the village had helped make it for me.

Far from that stopping me from drinking, it seemed to actually make it much more enticing.  The first mouthful was very hot and very bitter, and it burned my throat all the way to my stomach.  After that, there seemed to be some sort of narcotic effect, and with each mouthful the burning was less than before.  I don't know when it happened, but at some point what had been hunger became an overpowering craving, and it was all I could do to stop myself from grabbing the cup from Sharon and tipping it even higher.  Over and over I filled my mouth, then swallowed to send the delicious contents to their rightful home in my stomach. 

When the cup was at last drained, my mind was still active, but my body would barely respond to my commands.  I stood there staring at the sparks flying from the bonfire, feeling its wonderful heat settling deep in my soul.  It felt as if every bit of warmth from the flames entered me, then made its way quickly to my abdomen, where it kindled another bonfire even larger than the one in front of me.  My body responded, all on its own, to that fire, and I could feel my cock beginning to stiffen.

The three women looked directly at my crotch, then smiled.  Sharon also looked down, smiling in her turn.  To my amazement, she reached down and gripped my hardon, using it as a handle to turn my body so the rest of the people assembled there could also look at it.  Their smiles soon turned to laughter, and I could feel my cheeks burning in shame, although that did nothing to reduce the even greater burning in my crotch.

Finally the people quieted, then the woman who seemed to be in charge began to speak what sounded to my ears like a ritualized chant.

Continued in Chapter 5.