next set. One young buck was bent at the waist, his mouth almost to the cock of another of the dancers, while a dancer stood behind him and undulated his hips, his cock just inches from the ass of the first young buck. Next there were five in the center. Three dancers lifted a fourth parallel to the ground, two at his arms and one between his legs, his cock poised at the levitated dancer’s ass. The suspended dancer’s head arched back and the fifth dancer brought his cock very close to this dancer’s mouth. In the last change of scene, one dancer lay atop another dancer, while a third dancer straddled the chest of the one on top and wagged his cock; A fourth dancer approached the two prone dancers from behind.

God, this was a real turn-on I thought, and my eyes searched for Mustafa again across the fires. He was looking at me now, as well, and I could see the burning desire in his eyes. I had been right. Mustafa wanted me as much as I wanted him.

And then with a last swirl around the fires, the dancers were gone, jogging out of the circle and into the gathering darkness in a syncopated line. The drums stopped, and the show was over. It was only then that I realized that the smoke from the fire was having an effect on me, that I was drowsy and felt a little sluggish. I looked around at the group of archaeologists gathered there in the Mitsagusi camp that had been set up quite close to our own and saw that they all were similarly affected.

“So, where are they going off to now?” Winston asked.

“This is their annual fertility ritual,” Emory answered. “The tribe has a very peculiar tradition. The men cannot marry until they are thirty, and when they do so, they are monogamous and completely heterosexual for the rest of their lives. But between the ages of twenty and thirty they are expected to maintain their virility by servicing each other. After this dance, these dancers go off into the bush and continue the ritual of service. Before the sun rises, they each have to be serviced at least twice, and preferably three times—each time by a different partner.”

“Sounds like an invitation to wholesale AIDs,” Winton snorted.

“No, not at all,” Emory said. “The tribe keeps mainly to itself, and I’ve never heard of a case of sexually transmitted decease among their numbers.”

“How do they decide who does who?” I asked “I mean, it seems like in a group of nine who had to do it two or three times with different partners tonight, there may be some nasty infighting going on, and someone might not be able to get his quota.”

Emory gave me a highly disapproving look. “They have a leader who makes the assignments. He’s called the Bull and is chosen naturally by his endowments.”

“Ah, yes,” I said before I could check myself. “I had no trouble picking the Bull out. He was also the tallest and most studly of the group.”

“Humph,” Emory retorted, giving me that “I’ve got my eye on you” look. “Well, enough of this. We should be going back to our own camp. We have a busy day ahead of us, and I’m feeling a bit drowsy and lethargic.”

The dancers had really set me on edge. I had a raging hard