“Wow, that really is cynical. Of course writing makes a difference. What about Bo Vinh then? Was he just another guy, or did his writing change the world?”
“No, you’re right. He wasn’t. He was a philosopher and a true leader, and without him there probably wouldn’t be any humans left to fight over.”
“But that’s my point — by supporting something you don’t believe in then aren’t you corrupting the very ideals that Bo Vinh espoused?”
I reached up and, stroking the back of her head, said, “Come on, let’s not get into an argument about my uncle or politics in the first hour of the new year. How about we go for a swim instead?”
She smiled and said, “OK, but allow me one last comment. A woman’s prerogative, OK?” And she held her finger out in a parody of Sir Thomas.
I laughed and said, “Sure, go ahead.”
Mariko leaned in close to stare into my eyes, and said, “I don’t care about your uncle or politics, I’m concerned about you, and that’s why I’m a little upset. I like to think of you as my perfect hero, and thinking of you as cynical just doesn’t fit that image.”
She leaned her body forward and gave me a hug, pushing her chest against mine. As I held her, I smiled and thought to myself, I am the luckiest man alive.
She pulled back and reached down, stripping off her top outer. “Now let’s go skinny dipping.”
I stroked my hand up her leg and kissed her, my other hand coming up to support her as I shifted my thighs and laid her back onto the futon. I whispered in her ear, nuzzling it at the same time, “I’ve got a better idea,” and brought my hand from her leg up to her breast, stroking the nipple with my thumb.
She pulled my face from her neck, slipping away a little and looking into my eyes, and batted her eyelashes at me. I smiled, and suddenly found myself lying face down on the futon, with her knee in my back and my arm twisted up with her knee. Her lips teased the top of my ear and she said, “No, I think your first idea was better, wouldn’t you say?” giving my arm a little tug for emphasis.
“Yes, yes, it was much better idea,” I said, starting to laugh.
She released my arm and stood up, walking across the room to the open doors and out on to the deck that surrounded the beach house. She turned and looked at me lying on the futon, my head rested on one hand, gazing at her, smiling. She hooked her thumbs into her bottom outers and pulled down, stepping out one long leg at a time, straightening and hooking her thumbs into the tops of her inners. Turning to face me full frontal, she eased them down a few cents at a time. I rose and she dashed for the stairs that led down to the beach as I came through the doors to the deck. I watched as she sprinted down the beach and into the surf, not slowing down but powering in until she had reached deep enough to swim. I saw her diving in, disappearing.
I stripped my outers off watching where she had gone in. She still hadn’t appeared. My heart beat faster and leaving my inners on I sprinted down the beach to where she had gone in and shouted her name.
“Mariko, Mariko!”
Suddenly my legs were taken from underneath me and I went down into the meter deep water. I put a hand out and felt her hair, as she twisted around me and, surfacing, pulled me up. I was angry.
“I thought you’d drowned.”
She grasped my jaw, thrust her mouth against mine, driving a salty tongue in and grabbing my cock through my inners. She said, “I’m the most dangerous animal on this beach, baby, and don’t you forget it.”
Then she slipped out of my grasp and, twisting in front of me, pulled me off balance again. Taking me across her shoulders in a fireman’s lift, she straightened her legs up and dropped to one knee softly but firmly easing me onto the ground. She tore my inners off with a single harsh swipe of her hand, fingers extended into talons. With the same hand she reached down and grabbed my cock at its base before lowering herself onto me. The sudden warmth surrounding my cock unleashed something inside me, and reaching back with one hand, I pushed myself, my knees straightening and lifting us both. We surged back into the sea as she molded herself to me, wrapping her legs around my buttocks. When the water came to my thighs I held her close and toppled forward, taking my hands down to pull her waist into me. We twisted, joined together, in the sea, holding our breath, until kicking against the bottom I found purchase for us and we surfaced. With her legs wrapped around my hips, and her arms around my neck, she pulled me into another long kiss, and together we swayed with the ocean.
“How does a Special Operations Executive feel about having children?” I asked her.
She clasped her hands behind my neck, and leaning back to look in my eyes, said, “Well that would depend on who the father was going to be.”
I ground against her and said, “I think I’d make a pretty good father.”
“No, you’d make a great father. Now quit talking and get fathering will you?”
Pulling herself up on my shoulders, she lightly bit my earlobe. I braced both feet in the sand, toes curled for extra purchase, as she plunged down with her pelvis, riding me hard.
Chapter 23
Jonah and Mariko’s Beach House, Sisik Beach, Malaysian Geographic
Wednesday 1 January 2110, 11:40am +8 UTC
Sprawled in a tangle of limbs and blanket, I woke to the buzzing of my Devstick. I reached over, thumbed the Devstick to silent and closing my eyes tried to go back to sleep. But the Devstick had done its work.
Disentangling myself from Mariko, I got up and walked over to the shelves that we had put up on the wall facing the jungle. I pulled out one of her batik wraps and wrapped it around my waist, tying it into a knot below my belly button as I’d seen the locals do. I turned around and faced the sea. Our sleeper, large enough for four people, was against the wall to my left, positioned in the middle. Two windows flanking the bed were now shaded by the Clearfilm shading I’d put up as a temporary measure. Against the opposite wall was the railing guarding the stairs until they reached their zenith a meter up. The kitchen, shower and outlet were on the ground floor.
I went downstairs, treading lightly past Mariko, on the wooden floor that we had sanded together a couple of days ago, and walked over to the bench that we had put up that same day. It was temporary but served the purpose of holding the old-fashioned coffee percolator plus the other cooking machines. I filled the percolator with water and set it onto the electric heat pad. Searching the refrigerator I found some grapes and I ate those waiting for the coffee aroma to hit. As soon as I smelled the coffee I got out the cups and put them on a tray.
I dug the croissants out of the fridge. They weren’t as good as those from the French bakery near our old Env, but they weren’t bad. I put them under the heat and waited. The coffee percolated through and the croissants’ butter melted. I placed everything on a tray, added a tub of raspberry jam, and went back upstairs. Mariko was still sprawled out where I had left her, and I set the tray down on the floor beside the futon in front of the large Devscreen.
I thumbed the Dev on and leant back against the cushions. The late morning sun lent a hard reality to the light outside the windows and I debated getting my eye shades. Laziness winning out, I let the daily data stream flush itself out on the screen.
I flicked over to messages. There were several, mostly from acquaintances wishing me a happy New Year. But one stuck out: the subject was ‘wake up’. I thumbed it and the message read, ‘Jonah, Jonah, wake up’. I frowned and thought that’s weird but then dismissed it as a joke or spam — the sender wasn’t identified which, given that it had reached my personal contact messaging, was a surprise but not unheard of.
I reached over and got the coffee off the tray. Coffee in the morning was a new taste, but I was already a committed devotee. The smell made me hungry and the sweet dark taste made me flick data streams back to the daily feed, my brain kicking into action.