The wind is tickling the leaves of the canopy as Wati and Hussein trudge along a trail in the Sungei Pertak Recreational Forest. A romantic spot—waterfalls, fish sanctuary, Selangor River Dam lookout point, camping site—for a night-clubber to spend personal time with his favourite hostess.
Tweet! Teeet! Tweet! Teeet!
Wati’s gaze rises skyward. “Look! A crow!” She points to the top of a great banyan tree whose trunk is hardly more than a mass of interlocked roots.
A
tight dress shirt wraps her ample chest, with the shirt tails tied in a knot
around her flat stomach.
Belly hanging over his belt. Hussein whips his binoculars out from his knapsack and looks up with it. “No, no. It’s a magpie, not a crow. A black magpie.” He is wearing an oversize T-shirt, extra wide, and unlaced Timberland hiking boots.
They hear water gurgling over a rocky stretch of the river running parallel to the trail. Wati stops abruptly in her tracks and shoots Hussein a quick sideward gaze. “Goodness, looks like a woman bathing.” She points to a spot beyond the bushes.
“Got people staying here?”
“Could be Orang Asli, could be squatters.”
The back of the woman is facing them. Long hair flows from her head to her hip. Her big, round buttocks send a tingling sensation to Hussein’s loins.
“Your handphone got camera with zoom function?”
“Nope.”
“Why?” Piak! Wati hits a mosquito landing on her luscious thigh but misses.
I’d love to be a mosquito and land on her thigh, Hussein fantasizes. “I want to take pictures. Squat down, darling, otherwise she may see us.”
“I'll just enjoy the eye candy.” With bulging eyes, Hussein peers through the binoculars.
The bather starts to turn around.
Wowie zowie, going to get a gander of her boobs, Hussein concludes but, the next instant, he does a double take, lips slashing downward in disappointment. “Celaka! It’s just a Sikh man, not a babe.”
A giggle escapes from Wati’s throat. “Better chance of seeing boobs in a nightclub than in a forest, dear.”
/end
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