"Where have you been?" I asked, rather more sharply than I had intended."Out with friends," she replied, and went into the bathroom. She emerged twent... minutes later, showered, and slipped into bed without so much as a word.The next morning was a little tense. She left before I was ready to say goodbye; and that evening was a replay of the last.I decided discretion was the better part of valor, so I allowed things to play themselves out for a week.Nothing improved, though, and in fact the. We chatted away, agreeing to send emails on a regular basis, and by late autumn, with the help of Google translator, we had become firm friends exchanging views on everything from ancient history to current affairs, and occasionally touching on sex. Tata was a woman who I respected and avoided the temptation to continually tell her how much I missed her and the nights spent reminding my penis of the pleasure we had enjoyed.Realised how things were in Tata’s homeland, I avoided asking about. I remembered Ray, and now it was I who felt remorse by having mistreated him over a mere misunderstanding. But there was no time to lose in childish things, and I called him: ‘Ray, could you be at the hotel tomorrow morning? The clients bombarded us with difficult questions and are going to leave.’ ‘I will be there.’ ‘Please, wear a business suit.’ ‘All right.’ The next day, we met very early, but Ray didn’t arrive. Twenty minutes passed, when he finally appeared. He wore an executive suit, a. Although he addressed each as "Herr" or "Fraulein" he was otherwise quite informal, often reaching out to touch the women when he addressed them. None of the three seemed in the least bothered by the familiarity and I noticed that often their glance seemed to seek out the front of his sarong, perhaps to judge if what was concealed therein lived up to its reputation.The three women were not nearly so formal. They clustered around the three bound males and their hands frequently made their way.