Island Woman

I knew she was bad news the first time I laid eyes on her. There she was in the little reggae haunt in the islands, whirling and swirling, drawing all eyes to her bounteous rounded body, lost in her own world with eyes closed in the heat of the moment. She never stopped dancing, virtually thrusting her body out for all to see, going from man to man in her frenzy. It wasn’t that she was beautiful since her face was slightly off kilter, her body was lusher than the slender norm and she didn’t create the impression that she belonged to the real earth. She had all the earmarks of being slightly disoriented as if she were not of this world but the cosmos was of her, trying valiantly to please her.

I was mesmerized as I watched her white teeth with their slight overbite, latched wantonly onto her sensuous full red pouted lips, promising rapture. Her coffee with cream skin took the spotlight in the dimly lit bar as I realized that she was an amalgam of many races making it difficult to determine her heritage. Green slanted flirtatious eyes showed glints of yellows and browns. Wild curly hair with auburn flecks floated around her, hanging to her waist. Globular breasts peeped from her blouse that was only partially buttoned, having come undone as her spirit kicked its heels to the sound of the band.

I was so drawn to her fire that I knew that I had to have her in my life even when a little nagging murmur at the back of my skull warned me to ignore her magnetism. Alas, the pull of her hypnotic embodiment was too much to resist as I strolled in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner toward her, trying to disguise my eagerness to become one with her.

She turned her voluptuous body toward me and said that she had felt the charisma of my presence from her vantage point but that there were a few things I had to give the green light to if I wanted to play the game with her. “You cannot tame me for I am like a wild bird. I am my own person and come and go as I please,” she mouthed in her animalistic manner.

Against my better judgment, I reluctantly agreed to her terms. She grabbed my hand, led me to her motorcycle parked outside the bar and we roared off into the dark and promising night. As we entered her cozy little apartment above a noisy restaurant, I was enveloped so fully by her aura that outside sounds ceased completely as we gave ourselves to each other with complete abandon.

She threw her clothes off where they landed on the brightly hued carpet. I grabbed her naked body and began caressing and savoring every inch of her charms before unzipping my pants and throwing her onto the rug where we ravished and consumed, crested and fell, over and over, until we were sweating and exhausted. Falling asleep for a little while, we awoke to blooming urgency, the like of which I had never known. This desperate need continued through the balance of the night before we fell into a deep slumber. I awakened with the knowledge that I could never be without her again.

In the month ahead, our climatic passion continued but I woefully noticed that she would absent herself from me from time to time. “I need my space,” she said, “you don’t control me.” For a while, I accepted what she was willing to give me because I was so engrossed in the gifts she was bestowing upon me as I became needy. I had to have her and if that took sacrifices on my part, so be it. I ignored the fact that I was becoming less of a man. When she snatched herself away from me, images of her filled my existence as I became more and more dependent on her benevolent donations. I tried to avoid seeing her casting her glances at other men, negating my suspicions as to what she was doing in her absences.

A few days later, she tore off on her motorcycle leaving me alone to wander down to the soft comfort of the beach, where I daydreamed about her bounty. Returning a little early from my soothing sojourn, I was shocked to hear moans and groans coming from her abode. Flinging open the hurt door of my love, I was confronted by her and another man in our promised bed.

Embarrassment was absent in her demeanor as she said, “I never promised you that I would be faithful. Would you like to join in?”

Devastated, I limped sorrowfully out of our little love nest, catching the next plane to leave the islands of my dreams and jetted back to the emptiness of my life on the mainland. Try as I might, I could not put my little island maiden out of my mind. When I returned to the islands to seek her out once again, she was gone as was my yearning soul. I never saw her again.