Got a great deal going for her, Rina; her unaccountability above all. Nothing studied or vampish; entirely natural. Tall, slightly buck-toothed, glasses & long straight hair. Highly deceiving. One might guess some small part of the hidden, but Rina exceeded expectations.
As soon as she entered, two steps inside the door, a little skip had her sandals off. Quicker than you could say Jack Robinson. Little laugh. Or was that when immediately after, uninvited, she gave the bed a provisional inspection, dropping to test the mattress?
The resulting bounce pleased her. The stool by the dresser might only have taken her notice later.
It was the girlishness that was striking. Another would have remained standing a moment, chin in hand. Sat on the corner, knees together. Not Rina. There was a definite giggle.
These were chartered waters; quickly the sense grew. But Rina alone piloting.
Had she come to a decision on the stairs and along the corridors? Or was the action itself the decision, plopping on the mattress?
Running into Rina by chance that afternoon brought it all back, all too clearly. Two weeks ago another encounter where she had no time, nor inclination possibly. This afternoon was more hopeful. There was a chance she would return.
On the last occasion, the last morning, her reaching out early was another of those surprises of hers out of the blue. That was always preferred, a lady of her own mind and freely exercising.
Her big already had been more than a little to blame for the premature coming into her mouth.
It seemed as if the surprise at the size had aroused Rina.
Understandably, what followed left her out of sorts and resulted in the long month & half payback. A pity, when we were getting on so well. Previously we had always traveled a good distance together.
Rina's unexpected leads always made you marvel. The lady led from the front. On the first meeting, in very short order taking her pleasure in the mouth, when ten minutes earlier there had been nothing to indicate. Before you knew where you were, skipping along merrily. The move was like the tending of a wound; bending to the rice stalk—easy motions from Rina's kampung carrying the meaning of the ages.
The first encounter down at the Teh Tarik tables when she had circled back and hovered just behind the shoulder, waiting to be noticed. A moment longer she would have gone, turned on her heel and disappeared, just as she had this stretch.
En route to the room the get-out: only friends, when the invitation was accepted.
An unknown what was in store, for both of us. The indicators were fair, but without the uncertainty, half the excitement would have vanished.
Like many of these gals, Rina enjoyed the jockey mount. Other girls simply adopted the position. In Rina's case she moved as if taking an unwonted step, eyed from a distance. Once seated it was all foot to the floor.
So girlish the laugh in the bed-bounce. Back home most of the Indon gals slept on mats on the floor. Even in Singapura, in the spare rooms the maids were given—sometimes the laundry floors—it was often the same. Was a mattress such a novelty?
Removal of the glasses in advance, before anything was properly under way. The pretence of the reading of the blog was not long entertained.
As often the case in the tropical jungles, there was no presumption. No disrobing; steady, imperceptible progress without intervals or divisions. The unfolding would proceed in a single passage.
Bright lipstick. Not always helpful; in Rina's case it was a strong element.
Otherwise inexpensive clothes, simple necklace, without make-up. Owlish glasses of the old librarians, the ones unexpectedly prevailed upon to kick off their clunky, sensible shoes.
Wherefore art thou Rina!…
Twenty times her sister called in forty minutes. (Phone on silent.)
Doesn't stop; doesn't let up. Entire in her pleasure.
Quickly away and knowing the score. A man-eater like you never saw before.
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