Her beauty stemmed like a rose. Her hair having the essence of a garden in spring. And her eyes glowed with the truth of love… She stood, breathtakingly on the crest looking up at the full moon. Her hands were spread high above her head. Her slender body was covered with a thin piece of white fabric… It looked… like a ceremonial gown. She was praying to the moon for guidance and enlightenment. Marc’s eyes started to hurt and lowered the binoculars from his eyes. He rubbed the strain from his lids, and looked once again at the crest. She was still there in all her mysterious beauty, baying at the unyielding moon.

Marc took down a few notes, his handwriting showing up on the white pad upon his knee. He had seen others of the same sect doing the same thing on different nights. But this women… was beautiful. She did not look like an old crow with white hair. Watching her was an enjoyment. Actually, watching the wind blow against the thin fabric of the gown and seeing the naked form that laid underneath was turning him on. He actually found himself unzipping his pants. He kept reminding himself that he was on assignment. He was suppose to watch and record, that was all. No interference. The university surely would never know that he not only watched and recorded, but also masturbated. After all, a man must do what a man must do… and right that moment, Marc needed to play with his magic snake.

Like others of his gender, he had named his penis. Actually, it was on one of his other adventures for the University that his penis was named. He was asked to watch and record a small tribe of unknown Indians in the deep jungles of Africa. He was in a tree, shielded by large green leaves (or so he thought) as he observed females of the tribe washing each other.