The curvy one

You look at the throng of girls, clad in relatively conservative (by the standards of such a hot climate) huipils, for one that will catch your eye. Your desires settle on the most womanly of the bunch. You hear a few jealous moans from your fellow offices as you walk up to the woman with undeniably large breasts and wide hips that stand out despite her clothing. Her long black hair is braided and beaded, catching the sunlight and throwing it in all different directions. Her body, including her face and lips, is painted in a variety of strange, geometric patterns that must hold significance of some kind to her people. She nods submissively as you approach her, but says nothing. "Come with me" you say, trying to hit a balance between stern and gentle. She seems to understand, and walks after your lead, her prodigious curves bouncing slightly with each step. You take her back to your section of the camp to wind down.