Kick-off (updated Sept23)

Got a great deal going for her, Rina; her unaccountability above all. Nothing studied or vampish; entirely, all-up natural. Tall, slightly buck-toothed, glasses & long straight hair. Highly deceiving. One might guess some little part of the hidden, but Rina exceeded expectations.
         As soon as she got into the room, two steps inside the door, a little skip had her sandals off beside the bed. That was for starters. Quicker than you could say Jack Robinson. Little laugh in the action. 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 little stool beneath the dresser might only have been noticed later.
         It was the girlishness that was striking. Another would have remained standing a moment, chin in hand, metaphorically at least. Sat on the corner, knees together. Not Rina. There was definitely a giggle there. 
         These were chartered waters, quickly the sense of that grew. But Rina alone piloting. Had she come to a decision on the stairs and along the hotel 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 in the piece was another of those surprises of Rina's 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 of the largeness had aroused Rina. 

         Understandably, it left her out of sorts and resulted in this long month and a half pay-back/lay-off. A pity, when we were getting on so well. Previously we had always traveled a good distance together. 
         Rina's unexpected leads, coming out of no-where, always made you marvel. Rina led from the front. 

         On the first meeting, in very short order, finding it with her 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—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 now. 

         En route to the room, the get-out: only friends accepting the invitation. 

         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 systems go, foot to the floor. 

         So girlish the laugh in the bed-bounce. 

         Back home most of these Indon gals slept on mats on the floor. Even in the wonderland of Singapura, in the spare rooms the maids were given—sometimes the laundry floors—it might have been the same. Was a mattress such a novelty? 
         Removal of the glasses in advance, before anything was properly under way. Afterward it was clearly understood: a chap recalled who had once done likewise as a dispute was brewing. 

         The pretence of the reading of the blog was not long entertained. Signal of a change ahead, a hump in the road, gave more throttle. 
         As often the case in the tropical jungles, there was never presumption. No disrobing; steady, imperceptible progress without intervals or divisions. The unfolding would proceed with no hands, as it were; of itself. Always a boon. 
         Bright lipstick. Not always helpful; in Rina's case a strong element. 

         Otherwise, all minor key: inexpensive clothes, simple necklace, no make-up. Owlish glasses of the old-style librarian, the one unexpectedly prevailed upon to kick off her clunky, sensible shoes. 
         Wherefore art thou Rina!... 

         Twenty times her sister calling 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.