May Linh had accepted my contract and was now living with me, in the nude, at my secluded house by the beach in some constantly warm, when not hot, Southeastern Asian country. The first days we somehow got used to one another and after that, for me at least, life had, finally, become simple: a language I didn’t know, no TV, not checking the news on Internet and, thanks to aliens, the dramas of the world simply vanished.
May Linh was naked all day long and she was beautiful, to my eyes at least although she was not so young (although much younger than old Mr. Me), and I could fondle her butthole a little bit every night before going to sleep and this and that fulfilled my desire of beauty and amply sufficed to my happiness.
She was a lot busier than me. She would get up early, although I had no idea at what time since I hardly ever woke up before noon. I knew though she would have breakfast (?) in the kitchen and always prepared coffee for me, although that was not necessarily in the contract. As a matter of fact, she was doing all the cooking and, almost every day, treated me, so to speak, to dinner. And that wasn’t in the contract either.
Then she would spend the morning in the garden which by now was unrecognizable. She had cleaned it all up, planted a bunch of things, green vegetables and flowers she told me, and the stuff was already GROWING! Well it’s hot and humid here so I guess it owes to grow. She would usually still be in the garden when I’d show up on the front porch for coffee and my first cigarette. I enjoyed watching her working – or maybe toiling from where I was – and bending and squatting and digging and pulling wires, wearing her rubber boots, her gloves, her tools and her straw hat but, other than that, totally naked under her gardener apron.
I know now why Gauguin never came back from the isles. In his time, in his own country, white women of his kind were wearing corsets!!!! No wonder he said fuck this shit and took off to a none-white place just discovered and later wanted to show everyone in France and everywhere else that another world was possible, it existed. Lucky he was painting his ass on a faraway island or all the assholes of the planet, especially the religious ones and those beating their wives and kids, would have quickly come after him and cut his dick off. Gauguin didn’t paint naked women, he painted FREE woman just the way they were living in the best of worlds and THAT was a scandal, THAT was sin.
By then May Linh would know I’d be there on the porch and would wave at me if she had an occasion to stand up and face my way.
That’s when I would usually go swim. Swimming every day, old Mr. Me’s body was feeling better, I was getting confident and swimming farther and farther. In fact I think the food May Linh was giving me was also helping and making me feel better, a lot better. Her cooking was healthier than my canned food I guess. Fact is, after a week or so she had been living with me, I was having a better shit in the morning than I had in years. I had even forgotten how it felt.
Then May Linh would take a shower. I had installed – don’t get me wrong, some guys had installed it for me – a big Scandinavian shower with no wall or curtain and lots of space. One morning I was coming back from the beach and, in my shotgun house with no doors, I knew immediately she was taking a shower. So I went to look at her. I don’t know of many things more superb than a woman showering. Remember Hitchcock and others? And they weren’t old fools like old Mr. Me.
While she showered, May Linh didn’t say anything and let me watched her, as stipulated in our contract I guess. That’s how I realized she was using my razor to shave her legs. I was stunned! I couldn’t believe it. I saw her do it that one day and I thought that was an unforgettable sight. Did she shave in front of me on purpose? Just to show me she was using my razor? I don’t know. Fact is, ever since then, I think of her every time while shaving, and that’s about every day, and I wouldn’t for a long time even change my blades as if the cold steel could keep something of her that would also be good for my skin.
In fact I can now look at her also when she’s peeing, if I chance upon her and she is on the toilet. She doesn’t mind it seems. I don’t know when she’s taking a shit – in the morning I guess – but I know I would love to be there one time. In fact I often just stand there, where ever she is in the house, just looking at her. I kind of love it when she’s cooking with her Hello Kitty apron. At the beginning, I didn’t dare to touch her during the day. It’s in the kitchen that I caressed her buttocks the first time, as if in passing. She didn’t say anything so, since then, whenever I have a chance, I caress her ass gently and quickly. Just glimpses really.
After showering, May Linh fixes something for herself to eat and have lunch, alone most of the time, just like I have my breakfast alone. According to the weather, she’ll be eating on the front porch or the back porch or in the kitchen. Every other day or so, she takes the bike and goes to the village to get groceries and flowers and cigarettes. I don’t even have to put flowers in vases myself to have flowers in the house anymore. I don’t even have to buy my own cigarettes anymore… And that in itself is something!
The house is always clean, so I guess she does the cleaning in the morning too. God, she seems to be doing an awful lot of things in the morning. But I’m the one doing the bed and taking the garbage out.
Anyway, she now handles also the cleaner and delivery boys and when any of these guys comes, when she hears the gate’s bell, in no time she turns into this severe female majordomo, always with the same dark dress and attire. She’s always smiling and very polite and respectful though. ‘An Asian Mary Poppins’, they must think. And that makes me what? The chimney, I guess, because of all the smoking.
In short, she now pretty much handles everything around the house.
Yet, for the most part, May Linh lives like a recluse, just like me I guess. She doesn’t seem wanting to go anywhere. Neither do I and old Mr. Me is just happy doing nothing but looking at her. We don’t talk much and that too seems to suit both of us fine. So I believe she too may have had decided to retire from the world and my offer maybe came to her just like a cherry on her cake.