Admissions (more or less frank)

Yan skipped off light-footed yesterday lunchtime, quietly chortling almost.

Little doubt it takes it outta the man more, especially longer tooth. (All those complaints from the ladies of even young guys nodding off immediately afterward.)

The old Buddhists knew what they were talking about with the spilling of seed.

Marvellous passages nonetheless in that 12-15 minute pleasure-round. As before, exceedingly precious those admissions extracted from the girl—albeit rather like pulling teeth for her kind, but all the sweeter for that.

You ready now, Yan?

We wait sikit?

Ok? Ready go?

As usual, only answer to any of it came without verbals—rocking in the saddle and starting up her little gallops.

Spoke volumes that.

Empty no good, right? Nothing good kosong… (Zero, empty, void.)

It had been 10 days? Or was that the full two weeks?

Former according to Yan, who always kept proper count, together with her cycle.

Empty. Might have been a first the explicit answer here.

No, she said. No. Empty was no good in anybody’s language.

In a court of law the judge would have required the witness raise her voice.

Speak up Madam please. Answer more clearly for the gentlemen of the jury to properly hear.

We sailed around the merry-go-round ring-a-ring-a-rosey, the squeaky tune cranking up. Filling the void; the empty nullity. Some little up-tempo was allowed on this occasion and not pressed so very hard by the lass. Only the one proper spurt, over almost as soon as it was begun.

Ah! That was better; small steps in the slow dance. If we hurried too much we outdid ourselves too soon.

Sharpening…

How long it had taken, how many years, to comprehend Bosnian Stojan’s cheeky term? How obtuse could a literary man be.

Plenty of tongue finally given by the gal too. There was little doubt, these particular darlings had been warned by their grannies about dangers there. Easy to lose a good chunk of in those perilous passages. AWAS! Beware!

A check later showed how many messages had been exchanged in the full hour & one half while we sized up the possibility. 11:33 - 13:05.

Finally, on the 26th missive, the matter was firmly decided.

Ok coming up.

When in fact receiving that the girl could be spied from the window above already turned at the near corner on the path, black dress beneath the red umbrella.

Just then some of the laggards were making for Khalid for the Friday service, hurrying like Yan in their tunics & caps. On departure thereafter more were returning to their flats for lunch.

Utmost discretion was always required there, amidst that traffic.

Along the walkway toward the bus stop, young Nizam the Dayak (converted) with his three young sons, who were slowly being inducted into the proper path. The encounter could not be avoided.