Now she was completely naked she became more excited, moaning softly and rocking her head from side to side as she sucked him. It was riveting to see her writhing as she devoured more and more of his cock. He forced her back so he could get onto the bed, but she would not release him.
Tim found himself lying on his side, watching her busy hands and mouth consuming his cock. She had wriggled down a little and now as he lay the wrong way round on the bed her hips and thighs were beneath him. At her centre, her soft cock drew him to her. He bent his head and sucked it into his mouth. It felt soft and slippery, like the delicate flesh of a rambutan. It tasted clean and spicy. She gave a soft cry as he took her into his mouth and thrust her hips towards him. Small and soft, he could take all of her easily into his mouth. He started to suck and release her rhythmically, enjoying the swelling and stiffening of her cock as he worked on it.
She lost coordination as he sucked her and her movements on his cock became disjointed. She was moaning and pushing her hips up at him. He sucked harder and faster and then, without warning, his mouth was flooded with her cream. Dry tasting and smooth, she came as he pleasured her. She was giving up her orgasm to him, and the feeling excited him so much that he too came in great powerful spasms as she lapped eagerly at him and held him deep as they subsided.
When she was sure he had finished, she spun around to kiss his mouth. They lay together kissing, sharing the tastes of their orgasms, as she held him and felt his cock soften. She lay happily in his arms.
A large tug came for CCB-1 next morning. First it towed Sea Sprite IV well clear and Tim and the crew struggled to drop an anchor from one of their little used winches. Then the tug went back to trap the CCB-1 anchor buoys and trip the anchors so they could be winched aboard. They stood and watched as CCB-1 pulled itself up to its last anchor. They pulled the anchor free and the tug took up on the tow as they recovered it. The tug set its bow at the horizon and soon the crane barge was diminishing in the distance. Sea Sprite IV would float alone until a tug could be spared to retrieve her. With luck they should have at least a day of fishing and maintenance before that happened.
Chapter 23
Sherry waited eagerly for Tim to return. She had spent the day tidying the house and preparing his dinner. Now as the light drained from the sky everything was ready. She had measured out the rice and it stood beside the stove. The water waited for it in the pan. She had chopped the vegetables ready for the wok, and a saucer held the garlic, ginger and spices that would go in first. Freshly shelled prawns were in the fridge, and a bottle of Niersteiner was getting really cold next to the ice box.
Once she had prepared the food and table, she had given herself a good hour to get herself ready. She had combed out her hair as far as it would go, painted her finger and toe nails, made up her face for an evening in High Society. Earrings, gold cross in her cleavage, bracelets, and finally her new ankle chain. She stood in front of the mirror completely naked apart from her jewellery and heels and admired herself. She had to admit she looked good. Of course, she still felt big and clumsy when she compared herself to the twins, but on the other hand she was not as fat as Ranji. She turned around to look at her bottom. Her hips looked wide and her bottom too big. She turned back to look at her front. Here she felt happier. She liked her breasts. They were a comfortable size, perhaps a little large, but she liked the way they stood out. Her pink buttons were erect and pointing, perhaps in anticipation of Tim’s return. She liked her waist and the shadow of her belly button. Now that she had decided to care for the small patch of unruly hair that decorated her sex, even that looked elegant. She felt vaguely dissatisfied with its colour. She would have been happier if it was not so dark. Could it be dyed, she wondered, to match her blonde hair? Or should she go back to having no hair at all?
All in all, she looked better. Not as sexy as she wanted to look, of course, but definitely getting better. She envied the twin’s dark colour, their slim figures and above all their strong black hair but then, she reflected, all the girls here have black hair. At least I’m special in one area.
She had turned from the mirror and put on her only clothing, a new black cocktail dress. It had been expensive and without Ranji’s urging she would not have bought it. It was a simple knee-length creation of black chiffon with a pearl slip beneath to stop it being completely transparent. Thin straps left her shoulders bare and the whole thing looked as if it could double as a nightdress.
As soon as they had bought the dress, Ranji whisked her off to a dressmaking cousin off Serangoon Road and they waited with glasses of tea while he shortened the dress to mid-thigh. The cousin, a thin bent man with a measuring tape permanently around his shoulders, had drawn down the steel shutter of his shop to protect her from the street as she modelled the shortened dress. What had been fashionably elegant before, had now become daring and racy. The cousin had shaken his head with disapproval but Ranji had clapped her hands in delight.
Now, wearing this dress, she waited behind the front door as Tim’s taxi drew up. Dressed as she was, she did not care to go outside. The gate clicked open and clanged shut, and Tim stood in the doorway. She reached shyly for his bag but he dropped it on the floor and held her at arm’s length.
“Wow—look at you!” he said as he examined her. “What a wife to come home to!” She felt herself blushing and he swept her up to kiss her.
Later, in the double bed that had been newly returned to their bedroom, she lay contentedly beside his sleeping form. It had been a good evening. The food had been perfect. Tim was not so tired from travelling that he could not talk and tell her about his adventures out at sea. She had told him about Hangchi but that did not disturb his plans for enjoying his days off. Finally, when she returned from taking the plates to the kitchen, he called her to him and she had stood beside his chair while he hugged her and kissed her. His hands ran up and down her back and she had shivered in excitement. Then he had slipped his hands under the hem of her dress and peeled it off her.
He took her right there. He had swept the table’s clutter to one side and lifted her onto it. She lay on her back with her legs resting over his shoulders while he bent to devour her. He had taken her for dessert, licking, sucking, probing, using his tongue and fingers to sweep her from orgasm to orgasm. When he judged she could take no more, he had sat back in his chair. In a daze she had looked at his big wet smile between her upraised thighs for a moment before he scooped her up and carried her to the front door so she could push it shut. He had carried her up to their bed and rolled her onto all fours. Standing beside the bed, he had taken her from behind with slow forceful thrusts. The joy of him filling her had quickly re-ignited her orgasms and she was barely conscious when he pulled her hips hard against his thighs. His cock had thrust deep and far inside her, and he emptied himself into her in powerful animal spurts.
Now she was glowing beside him. Completely contented and completely relaxed. Her pussy purred as it savoured the memory of his assault. With Tim beside her again, she felt untroubled. She was in love and happy.
Hangchi met them in the Pavilion. While they waited for their lunch, he got straight on with telling them what had been happening.
“Firstly, the information in the letter you brought was good. Probably missing the first visit was a blessing. I expect that was just to build confidence and perhaps pay a small deposit. This time we saw the real transfer of cash. We were waiting for one Aidil Wiranto to appear on the passenger list from Balikpapan, and he came just as we expected.” Hangchi looked at them to make sure he had their attention. He seemed to enjoy telling the story.
“Of course, he was just a courier. Not at all interesting. We wanted to know who he was doing business with and where the money would go. I was there when he arrived, up in the SeletarAirport security office, watching the television screens. We tagged him as soon as he presented his passport and watched him go for his bag. He was carrying a flat briefcase but had checked in a soft hold-all. He came out of
Customs—we let all non-Europeans go straight through that night—and was met by a taxi driver with his name on a sign. The driver took him outside, past the regular taxis and into the car park. It wasn’t an ordinary taxi, but one from Johor Baru with its sign covered over with a ‘Not in Service’ cap. The driver was Chinese, but that’s no surprise from JB, and the cab had someone else waiting in the rear seat. They all took off but didn’t go far. Just to the nearest hawker centre where the two passengers got out.” He paused to sip his drink, and perhaps for dramatic effect.
He smiled at his audience and continued. “That was when we first got a look at the man in the car; we know him well. It was Older Tan, he works for the Irishman. Aidil was carrying his bag and still holding the briefcase. They went to a payphone and Tan made a call. Afterwards we found it was to another payphone in Toa Payoh. He spoke for a moment and gave the phone to Aidil. After he had taken his turn, he passed the briefcase to Tan who hopped back into his car and drove off. Aidil was left to find a bus into town, which is a good sign of how unimportant he is. He’s checked into the Merlin and is acting the part of a tourist. Perhaps he is a tourist and the holiday’s part of his reward.
“Anyway, Older Tan took off but he didn’t head into town. I guess we should have realised that he might be going straight to Malaysia—why else use a Malaysian car? Seletar’s no distance at all from Woodlands and the causeway, so we had a bit of a panic. I had to call a security alert at the checkpoint to slow him down while I tried to find Alistair.”
“Alistair?” asked Tim in surprise.
“Yes, your friend. He’s the one I talk to over there. Semi-unofficially of course. Fortunately he was in town and not escorting his two young nieces around the east coast tourist resorts. Fortunately. He managed to organise a tail, and the taxi went to a charming little Chinese establishment called the Lucky Path Club, where Tan got out. And the Lucky Path Club is owned by... can you guess?”
“The Irishman?” answered Tim and Sherry together.
“Well, well. What nasty suspicious minds you both have, but you’re right. The Irishman.”
“That’s good then. You know where the money went, so you can arrest him and find out where the guns are,” said Sherry.
“Not so easy.” Hangchi took a sip at his beer. He was holding back, almost hesitant. “We’re stuck. That’s the truth of it. We know money’s been brought in to pay the Irishman, but we don’t know how much or why. We don’t even have the money. Alistair couldn’t organise a raid on the club, because he had no evidence of a crime. If he had raided but only come up with a briefcase of money, so what? There’s bound to be a good excuse for it. Brought from Indonesia to buy a shipping container of toothpaste or something. We don’t even know how much was in the briefcase.
“No, what we need is the other half of the deal. I think the Irishman had the shipment stored somewhere, and it was handed over when Aidil and Tan made that phone call to Toa Payoh. Now we can’t find it. We don’t even know if it’s still in Singapore, or even if it ever was. It might be in Malaysia for all we know, and time’s running out. They handed over the money three days ago so I expect they’ll be moving it soon, if only to get it out of the Irishman’s grasp.”
“You seem to know so much. There must be something you can do” said Sherry.
Hangchi sighed. “In fact, we’ve got next to nothing to go on. From Sherry’s story, we suspect that Ranji’s father has some involvement, along with his friends, and that Papi Bombar knows more than he should. Still, there’s nothing hard enough to go forward on, and I’m beginning to think that Aidil is hanging around Singapore for a reason. His ticket has given him a full three weeks here, but that can be changed at will. Fortunately he met a friendly Malay taxi driver who is driving him around for a very cheap rate. One of ours, of course. We’ve even provided, through the taxi driver, a charming little girl from Thailand to make sure we keep track of him at night as well. He seems to have enough money to spend and the girl says she’s enjoying herself, but he hasn’t done anything suspicious yet.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull Ranji’s father in if we don’t get a break soon. I’d hate to do that because it’ll ruin all the contacts I’ve made on that side of town, and I suspect he’d keep his mouth shut anyway. But I’ll do it on Monday if that’s all we’ve got. I’ll have no other option. Except…”
Tim wished he did not have to ask, but it was inevitable. “Except?”
“Well—oh look. Here’s lunch. Good. I’m feeling hungry.”
Tim and Sherry had chosen trout as recommended by Hangchi. The man himself took a very unhealthy looking steak topped with buttered garlic mushrooms and bacon. He smiled at them apologetically over his steak. “I only do it sometimes, you know. You don’t get meat like this at the food stalls, and the Department’s paying.” He attacked his meat.
Tim wanted to start eating but he wanted Hangchi out in the open first. “You were saying? Except?”
“Well, I know I shouldn’t ask, but could you get something out of Ranji, do you think? She might talk to you where I wouldn’t have a chance.”
Tim looked at Sherry. “What do you think, love? You know her. I’ve only met her once.”
Sherry had stopped with her fork in mid-air while she thought about her friend. “I suppose I could ask, but why would she tell me? “
“Frighten her. Tell her Tim’s been told by an ugly policeman that they’re going to string her grey-haired dad up by his big toes and tickle him with cattle-prods.”
Sherry was shocked. “You’d do that?”
“Of course not! How can you imagine it! Singapore might be new but we’re not uncivilized. We’re not even allowed to have suspects fall down stairs or walk into doors. All our interrogations are recorded, anyway. No, if we did take him in he’d be safe enough, but I know him. He’s sure to believe the worst and I think Ranji will too.”
They left to take a bus to Collyer Quay. They spent the afternoon wandering slowly in a big loop towards South Bridge Road through the small streets of old fashioned shophouses. This part of Singapore, untouched but presumably doomed by progress, retained the heart of the old Imperial trading city. Their grandparents, or even great-grandparents would have been quite at home.
It was not until they were on the top deck of the number 191 heading for Holland Road that Sherry realised she had a question to ask. “You said you’d met Ranji once?”
Tim started to answer and then smiled. “Oh dear. I’m not very good at secrets, am I? Yes, Alistair introduced me when he was telling me about the flute-playing. I wasn’t going to tell you. I didn’t want you to be cross with her. She seemed quite a pleasant girl.”
“Ranji told you about that?”
“Yes. Alistair forced her. Just to confirm what he told me. She didn’t have any choice.”
“Well, Ranji. I suppose I’d guessed it was her, really. Not that it matters any more. If you don’t mind, that is.”
“Me?” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Well, considering all that’s happened since then, and considering that I now have a double bed again, and a wife who’s so hot that she sizzles, well, no. I don’t mind at all.”
Chapter 24
Sherry came out of the shower to find Tim destroying her new black dress with a pair of nail scissors. Her heart crashed. She had fallen in love with that dress. Why was he being so cruel? He looked up with a smile on his face.
“What’s wrong? I’m just making a small adjustment.”
She came closer to look at the mess of fabric spilled over his lap. He had turned the outer layers of chiffon inside out to detach the lining. He was removing the foundation of the dress, and she looked sadly at the wreckage. With a few more careful snips, he threw the lining aside and held the dress up by its straps for her to see. To her surprise the dress retained its shape, but the black folds hanging from his hands were transparent.
He held it up against her damp body. “That’s better,” he said. “Now
Ranji will be sick with jealousy. I can’t imagine she’ll be wearing anything like this.” Silently, she took the dress from him and went to prepare herself.
Ranji and Tim were talking quietly as she came downstairs. She felt on display, naked and uncomfortable. Her mirror had told her that every detail, every fold and shadow of her body, was open to see. The fine black fabric flowed over her but hid nothing. Ranji looked up and came running. “Oooh! Look at you! So sexy; so elegant, and you take out the inside of this dress, oh, very clever. She is so clever, isn’t she?”
Tim smiled at them. “Yes, very clever. Really knows how to dress, don’t you think?”
“But this is not fair. You did not tell me. Now I am dressed like my grandmother. Now what can I do?” complained Ranji.
She was wearing a sari of dark green and gold, and Sherry thought she looked magnificent. “You look fine, Ranji. Very beautiful and important.”
“Not true,” she said. “You make me feel, I don’t know. Like an old woman. Next time it will be different. Next time you invite me, I will dress… I will make Tim very hungry. You will see. You will see.”
“Mmmh, Ranji,” said Tim, almost licking his lips. “That sounds very interesting. Let’s invite her again, Sherry.”
Sherry steered Ranji to the sofa. “We’ll see. I’m not sure I trust her with you. She’s a very sexy girl, you know.”
“And that’s bad?” asked Tim. “Is that true, Ranji? I want to see for myself.”
Tim did not bring up the real reason for Ranji’s dinner invitation until Sherry was clearing the plates away.
Her Master's Voice Page 18
