I was enjoying the food portion of the World Music and Food Festival at my university. For lunch, I ate spicy Filipino pork barbecue; it was delicious, but not especially exotic. I’m adventurous, so for dinner, I tried a Southern Thai dish called gaeng tai pla that combines kaffir leaves – whatever they are – with fermented fish guts and other strange flavors. It was so fiery hot I broke into a sweat; it made calling the barbecue “spicy” a gross exaggeration. I planned to try other food booths tomorrow, like the Mongolian stall that was selling yak burgers.
But so far, the music portion had left me either bored or secretly wincing. The arias from the Chinese opera sounded like screeching bats, and the guy playing the shenai, an Indian double reed instrument, was making the whining drones I would expect from a shop that repairs bagpipes.
Then a Cuban salsa group took the stage and their rhythmic music captured me instantly. Some Latino students jumped up to dance. I don’t know how to dance salsa, but I got close to the stage to gawk at the beautiful singer, a voluptuous Afro-Cubana wrapped in a tight miniskirt. She looked down at me staring up at her. Our eyes met and she smiled, and began to sing her Spanish lyrics directly to me. I don’t speak Spanish, but it felt so sexy listening to her smoky voice that perfectly matched her moves. She would shake her ass, then flash her dark eyes and bright smile – right at me.
I was standing there wishing I had studied Spanish in high school instead of German. The lyrics seemed to be saying, “You like what you see?” (ass shake). “You like what you see?” (ass shake). “I’m so spicy hot, I’ll make you sweat! You like what you see?” (ass shake).
Night was falling and stage lights were coming on as the salsa performers finished their act and came down off stage to join the audience. I went to meet the singer at the bottom of the stairs to tell her I totally loved her voice and her dancing, but she seemed to not understand English. I said, “Me gusta muchisimo!” which launched her into speaking Spanish, but I shook my head and said, “No hablo espanol.” I had now used up two of the half-dozen Spanish phrases I remembered from a surfing trip down to Mexico, so I had to pantomime for her to join me on my blanket spread on the grass at the edge of the campus area called The Lawn. She followed me and sat down.
Up close, I saw that she was years older than she had looked on stage. I’d thought she was about my age, twenty, but she was maybe in her mid-thirties. Such a lovely body! I used two more of my Spanish phrases and introduced myself as Gordo and learned her name was Maria. She chuckled at my nickname and pantomimed that I was not fat. Huh? Oh right, I remembered “gordo” means “fat” in Spanish. How do you say in Spanish, “You’re so flaming hot, I’m feeling turned on just sitting next to you!”
A group of Korean folk singers and dancers took the stage. Their brilliantly colorful traditional clothing partly made up for the monotonous chant-like music and repetitive dance moves. Not my jam. Maria lay down prone on the blanket, with her chin propped in her hands. Her miniskirt was so short the prone position gave a clear peek of white panties between brown thighs. Oh my god; that’s my jam.
The moonless night was velvet black. Strings of small lights surrounded The Lawn. I honestly felt relieved when the Koreans were done, but I clapped good-naturedly with the rest of the audience. The next group was a belly dance ensemble from Egypt: one lute player, two drummers and four dancers. When the music and dancing began, Maria began bouncing and rocking her bubble ass in rhythm with the duet of the low-pitched frame drum and high-pitched goblet drum. Her ass was a snake-charmer, and my cock was a cobra. I adjusted my snake inside my Levi’s.
I said I’m adventurous. I set my hand high on her left thigh, right at the hem of her miniskirt. She stopped moving, but remained prone, facing the stage. She said something in Spanish. I have no idea what she said, but she didn’t push away my hand. I used up one more phrase from my short supply. “Relájate. Está bien.” (Just relax. It’s okay.)
She began rocking her hips again to the belly-dance music.
I waited a couple minutes.
Might as well go for it. I held my breath and slipped my hand under her miniskirt and placed it on the left globe of her firm ass. She froze, but she didn’t turn to face me, let alone sit up and slap me. She said something in Spanish. I understood not one word.
“Maria, relájate.” I said in my most soothing voice. “Está bien.”
She was breathing faster. In a moment, she again began moving her muscular ass to the irresistible drumming, and my hand went along for the ride. My cock got as hard as teak.
I glanced around. All eyes were on the stage. I slipped my whole hand under the leg hole of her panties and lightly squeezed her left ass cheek, two fingers just grazing her bald pussy.
She spun her head to face me and gave me a lecture in rapid Spanish. I caught only one word, “macho.” Not sure if she said, “Don’t be a macho asshole,” or “I adore macho men, they get me wet.” Her tone strongly suggested the former, yet her body… Well, she was wet. And she didn’t shove my hand away. So...okay. My hand remained in place, innocent and motionless. “Está bien,” I said, lamely, and I think I detected the trace of a smile.
She returned to facing the belly dance ensemble. When she began bouncing her ass to the drumming, my fingers naturally bounced over to her pussy and pressed into her slippery hole. She grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand out of her panties, but not before I felt a little gush of lube and heard the beginning note of a moan. Whatever she then told me in Spanish I took to mean, “I love to drive, gringo – but slow your Mustang down!”