[SerflySGR]

Originally Posted by SerflySGR

The next few days came and went uneventfully, the main activity being my son moving into the same room as my wife. My son was very happy to finally get to sleep in an air-conditioned room.

With the move, this meant that my maid had to go into the study room and wake my son up every day for school. This might inconvenience my wife as she may be still sleeping. But the plus side was I get to maximize the study room aircon (the aircon in our son's room was faulty).

The most important thing is: Wanda was now sleeping alone in my son's room. I felt something in my pants stir as naughty thoughts flashed across my mind.

Wanda having her own room opened to more opportunities; more possibilities. In 'preparation', I wanted to go to 'toy' shops to source for evening wear but decided against it for fear of being recognized. What was I to say when they ask me for whom these lingerie are for? I can't possibly say it's for my sickly wife, can I? Thank God for the world of online shopping - there are so many things one could buy at the click of the mouse button.

With the recent scare still fresh in my mind, I made sure that some of the more valuable items were placed 'elsewhere' so that in the event of a spot check, neither of us could be faulted. But, at the same time, these items could be 'easily reached' so that we could use them for our enjoyment.

Yes, I used the words 'our enjoyment' because as time went by, I noticed that Wanda loved the attention that I showered her and this made me equally happy.

One evening while I was waiting for Wanda to pack food, I met another maid.

"Is your maid called Wanda?" she enquired.

"Yes, she is. Why?" I asked, bemused that the maid should ask such a question.

The maid looked shiftily around and then back at me. Sensing her uneasiness, I coaxed her to relax and assured her that I was 'open' and that she could tell me anything she wanted. Once she felt more comfortable, she said in her heavily accented English, "Sir, you must careful of this girl. She is not simple girl. Very complicated."

Thoughts of Wanda's past swirled around me - her stories; her erotic stories of her wedding night or how her Javanese mother-in-law trained her in the ways of sex - as I mentally brushed the warning aside. My thoughts must have been reflected on my face as the maid seem to pick up my nonchalance.

"I think you not believe me." She shook her head, "maybe too late," she said. She wanted to say something else but she suddenly held back, nodded furiously as if she made some mistake and then quickly scurried away. I shouted out to her and tried to call her back but it only made her hasten her pace.

I stood there, puzzled - what did she ask me to 'be careful'? What did she mean by 'not simple girl'? Why was it 'too late'? Why did she suddenly just stop and 'run off'? Before my Sherlock Holmes detective mind could come to any conclusion, my thoughts were interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

"Abang! Balik?"

Holding onto our dinner, she beckoned me to go home with her.