“Ah, yes, you are. Such a good little girl you are.”The surprise left me speechless. I expected him to take his hand away, but instead, he used a ...inger on a spot that made my knees go weak and made my breath come out in gasps.“Yes, yes, there it is, the little button which makes women scream. One day someone will fuck you well, and you will then enjoy the pleasure of sex. Until then, have a good afternoon.”He pulled his hand out, licked the finger that had been in me and then left. I stood. We could hear boats going by, and catch glimpses of them through the landscaping, but we were in our own private, sunny little world. We talked and laughed like we’d known each other forever. I refilled our brandy coffees, even stronger this time, and we soaked up some more sun. I went for a bathroom break and when I returned the brandy and sun had conspired to send Kim off to dreamland. I sat back down quietly and the sound of the breeze and the birds soon had the same effect on me and I dozed. "She let me wet my lips and take that first wonderful sip of ice-cold beer and then said, "You're a pirate?" Pardon?"She reached out with one long finger and almost, but not quite, ran it along the deep scar that cut the middle of my face from under my ear to the edge of my lip. It had been bright red when it first healed but now had faded to an angry brown under the sun of a lot of alien climes."It makes you look like a pirate, or a very bad man." No to the first, yes to the second. And you. .. she'd ask me to make her cake. I think the first time, I was eight years old and I hated it. She wouldn't give me any help--only with handling the oven. And I couldn't just go out and get one that came in a box, either. I'd have to look it up in a cookbook and make it from scratch; and there was always a huge mess that I'd have to clean up when I was finished. But when we brought it out after dinner, she'd gush over it like it was the best thing in the world; and then I really started to.