Her Master's Voice Read Online Free Page B

sarong and a flower in her hair. “Timmee, Timmee!” she shouted, “I know you come today! Before I come to find you.”
    Tim picked his way up the notched log that served as front steps and sat at the edge of the verandah to pull off his boots and socks. Darti threw herself at his back and started licking his ear. “Wait, wait,” he said as he struggled with his boots, “Wait, I’ve got something to show you.”
    He pulled two small gift-wrapped packets from his coverall pocket. She looked at them in awe for a moment and then started to tear them open. Crescent moon earrings in white gold. She rushed to a broken shard of mirror glass wedged in the clapboard wall and held them up to her ears. They shone in the black velvet of her hair. Setting them carefully on a shelf near the mirror, she tore open the other packet. Two tiny lace panties, one black, one white. She held them up and laughed. “Very small! I think too small! But I try. We go for mandi, OK?”
    At ground level at the back of the house Darti kept her water supply in two large plastic drums, a present from Sea Sprite IV . She had placed them to catch rainwater falling from the ragged eaves above and two strips of galvanized sheet bent into gutters helped extend their reach. Usually this caught enough water, but if she had run short after a rainless week, Darti would bring water up in buckets from the pool in front of the house. By the water tanks lay a small log platform, Darti’s bathroom. As Tim struggled out of his coveralls, she unwrapped her sarong and hung it over the steps. When Tim was ready, she stood in the middle of the platform, piled her long hair on the top of her head and waited. Standing there small, brown and naked, she looked even more like a little girl but Tim guessed she was about thirty-five. She said she had three children, already big, so even if she had started early she had to be at least thirty.
    She looked at him sideways. “Come on, Timmee, make me clean!”
    He took the plastic scoop and quickly shovelled cool water over her. “Oh—cold,” she complained as he reached for the soap. He soaped her from neck to toe and then used both hands to rub the soap into her skin. She felt firm and alive in his hands. Her small breasts barely filled his cupped hands and their dark chocolate nipples stood proud from the cold. He stood behind her to rub soap onto her back and down into her bottom. She sighed and opened her legs a little as his hands dived between her cheeks and brushed her little knot.
    He reached underneath her until he could soap the folds of her sex and on up onto her mound. She sighed again and stuck her bottom out as an invitation for more. Then she grabbed his wrist behind her and pulled him away. “Enough! Now water.”
    Tim scooped more water over her to wash away the suds and, still holding her hair up with one hand, she held her bottom and then her sex open for him to splash cold water into her.
    Then it was his turn. She soaked him and then soaped him all over. She spent a long time rubbing soap over his cock, sundang as she called it, and it stood rigidly as her small hands rubbed and stroked and dived between his legs. By the time she had finished, Tim was ready to throw her down on the floor and make love to her right there but she led him inside, still wet and dripping. She sat him on the floor against the wall while she modelled her new presents. First the earrings and then the white panties. They fitted perfectly and the contrast between the white lace and her brown skin looked delightful. She turned her back to him to show the small white T diving out of sight between her cheeks. Tim could wait no longer and grabbed her hips to pull her back on top of him. She fell on him giggling and shrieking for him to stop. When he did, she leapt up and pulled him into the centre of the room. She laid him on his back on the split bamboo floor and stood over his head.
    “That better. Now you quiet and watch me.”