The sarong was damp with perspiration and sticking lewdly to her body, and Honor had wanted nothing more than to find the nearest shower, take it off and wash off the accumulation of sweat and bodily fluids on her skin. But the prospect of wearing the sarong back after showering was not very attractive, or practical - especially since Marq had not provided her with anything else to wear.
Except that Bangkok was still hours away; they would arrive at dawn.
Honor stared out over the water under the rapidly darkening sky as she dialed a number she knew by heart, wishing she had found the shower first as she placed the phone to her ear.
Sarah picked up before the third ring. "Hello? Honor?"
"Hey," Honor said, smiling at the voice in her ear.
"Thank goodness!" Sarah breathed out loudly, sounding relieved. "I was starting to get worried."
"Sorry," said Honor, feeling only a tiny twinge of guilt. "My phone was on silent."
"What were you doing? Where are you?"
Honor smiled. "This is sounding like an interrogation."
"Well, guess what, bitch?" Sarah snorted. "It is! Start talking."
Honor laughed. "I'm on a boat," she said, at last, truthfully.
"A boat?"
"A barge, actually," Honor corrected, leaning her hip against the dining table. She could have provided a more fulsome explanation of the nature of the vessel: that all it had in common with the traditional Thai rice barge was its shape and the teak decking; that it had a hybrid power system and that it was right then being entirely controlled and piloted by computers; that it was made of state of the art composite materials with outrigger arms and ultrasensitive adaptive shock absorbers under its decks. That all these innovations, as Marq explained, served to make standing on its decks feel as though one was on solid earth instead of sailing on a choppy river.
"What are you doing on a barge?"
"Sailing back to Bangkok," Honor answered, "From Ayutthaya."
"Oh. Wow. I've seen pictures of the place!" Sarah said. "Did you see the Buddha head in the tree?"
"Yes, I did." Honor couldn't help smiling as she answered.
Marq had indeed taken her to Wat Mahatat, the temple hosting the most iconic image of Ayutthaya, a stone Buddha's head with a bodhi tree's roots growing around it. It was the first place they had gone to after their breakfast at Udom's, and they had been early enough to avoid the usual heavy press of tourists. Marq had produced a small high-end camera and a tiny bolero-style shrug top with billowing sleeves for her, satisfying the temples' requirement for covered shoulders; she had been mildly impressed at how well it matched the sarong.
"Wow. I'm actually jealous," Sarah said, sounding pleased. "Where else did you go?"
Honor told her.
She had visited the majestic statue of Buddha at Wat Phananchoengworawihan, all of sixty feet tall, seven hundred years old, and brilliantly gilded. She had seen the large reclining Buddha covered in its saffron orange robe, the collonaded courtyard lined with dozens of sitting gold-leafed Buddhas and the white fourteenth century prang at Wat Phutthaisawan.
Honor had passed on climbing the huge prang at Wat Ratchaburana, visible from everywhere in Ayutthaya, easily able to imagine an errant gust of wind or tearing her sarong on a jagged edge - she didn't imagine the monks would appreciate it. She left out that part though, as she recounted her visit to the temple.
She had seen the distinctive Angkor-style lion sculptures at Wat Thammikarat before the somewhat longer drive on the scooter to the still active and well-maintained Wat Yai Chaimongkol with its distinctive hundred foot tall chedi. It boasted its own giant reclining Buddha, one of the largest in Thailand, and a gallery featuring rows and rows of smaller stone and gilt covered Buddha statues, most sporting the same orange clothing as the monks taking care of them. The sight of the gleaming white Buddhas in their various poses and orange robes in front of the main chedi and its immaculate hedges had been breath-taking, and later she had enjoyed watching the monks at their prayers and going about their tasks, taking care of their temple.
"That must have been amazing." Sarah sounded genuinely impressed.
Honor smiled, "It was." She looked out of the huge bay windows lining the upper deck, at the Chao Phraya's shores passing by on both sides. "It is."
Honor did not mention Marq, and she felt a twinge of guilt at that.
Her visit to Wat Yai Chaimongkol had also been tinged with guilt - she could still feel Mark's cum, and hers, between her legs as she took in the sights and sounds of the temple. And that, she remembered, heat flushing her face, hadn't been the worst of it.
Honor had known, just seconds after leaving Udom's restaurant, riding behind him on the scooter, her body much tighter against him than necessity and safety required, that they would need to make at least one stop before long. Inwardly, she had marveled at herself - he had been inside her less than fifteen minutes earlier, and already she was feeling the stirrings of need, her nipples hardening rapidly as he took a turn and she grasped herself closer to him.
She knew he was feeling the same way fairly soon. He touched her constantly on their tour, somehow managing to caress, fondle and tease her even in the midst of the other people around them without anyone noticing, her body tingling with nervous anticipation. He somehow found just the exact blind spot in Wat Phutthaisawan where he could part her dress and touch her between her legs and discover just how wet she was without anyone seeing them.
Marq had found another secluded spot in Rama Public Park for lunch, producing and laying out a blanket on the grass in a quiet copse of trees and then opening Udom's set of food containers, surprising her with a variety of seafood laced salads and fruit medleys in addition to their leftovers from breakfast. She had smiled in appreciation as he sat on the blanket, resting his back against a tree and beckoning her to him. Her smile had grown wider when he pulled her unto his lap, making her straddle him.
He kissed her for a while, and she had kissed him back - for long enough that she forgot her initial apprehension of being seen by passersby in what was supposed to be a public park. She remembered though, as she tried to cover herself when he casually undid the knot of the sarong behind her neck and pulled it down to her belly. Her breasts were fully exposed and out in the open, and without him needing to say it, Honor had known that he fully intended for her to remain half naked... in a public park.
Her resistance didn't last long, neither was it any more than perfunctory; she never even got off his lap.
Displaying her body for his pleasure was well within their deal, she had rationalized. 'I like seeing your breasts.' she remembered him saying, as she allowed him to pull her hands away from her chest, distantly realizing just how much Marq Haydn had compromised her sense of modesty. He made her sit between his legs afterward as they ate, her back on his chest, kissing and nibbling on her neck, openly enjoying her partial nudity, his hands caressing her belly and cupping her naked breasts, touching her between her legs as she squirmed against him and repeatedly turned her head so their lips could meet.
They were truly off the beaten path, their picnic uninterrupted despite there being other people within hearing distance in the park with them. Much sooner than was decent, she had found herself relaxing, her self-consciousness and mortification disappearing, enjoying it all; the afternoon's warmth on her bared skin, the food... him.
The last thing out was an ice-cold medley of fruit, predominated by pre-peeled and deseeded lychees and cubes of mango. He insisted on feeding her himself, repeatedly teasing the fruit over her lips, making her follow after him, leaving a sticky mess of fallen juice all over her chest. Which he then insisted on cleaning up with his lips and tongue.
By the hour's end, her nipples were at their full engorged and painful attention as she straddled him again, feeling his erection pressing against her, her entire body humming with anticipation, both terrified and excited at the prospect of being mounted right there and then, knowing she would offer no resistance.
But he didn't take it any further, and she had knotted the sarong back up, covering her pointing breasts, eyeing him with more than a tinge of angry and confused frustration as she followed him out of their secluded picnic spot to the parked scooter.
They had gone to Wat Thammikarat next, where he had pulled her into another hidden spot, again freeing one of her breasts and sucking her nipple into his mouth as her knees weakened and she helplessly sagged against him, gasping out her pleasure in his ear as his hand found its way between her legs again, heart racing in fear at the risk of being seen and the explosive excitement and ecstasy of transgression.
It was utterly nasty, sleazy and trashy behavior on top of what had just happened in the park. Especially in such a sacred place, the oldest temple in Ayutthaya. Sensible, disciplined Honor Banet would have been aghast, horrified at the very thought of it. But, her back jammed against the wall in that hidden alcove, his hand moving between her thighs, one digit then another making their way in and out of her as she held on to him, biting her lip to keep from crying out as she completely soaked his fingers with her liquid, she couldn't bring herself to protest.
