The conversation wound up a minute or so later. Sa’afia came back, eyes sparkling. 

“That was Ana.” 

“I know.” Sa’afia paused, in my shirt, glowing white – with yellow curry streaks – on glowing brown skin. She seemed confident, now, that I liked her breasts. “Now take that shirt off.”

She obeyed quickly, as if she’d been waiting for me to get around to mentioning it. I held out my hand and she gave me my shirt. Now she glowed brown, except that her nipples were purple-black and Sa’afia was a pubic hair girl, neat but retro and shining raven-black. She smiled, tremendously amused by me, and certain that I liked what I saw.

I smiled back at her, less brilliantly. “Now come and sit down. Dinner.”

I put my shirt back on while Sa’afia sat across the table from me. When I’d finished doing up the buttons I topped up her glass and mine, and we silently toasted each other, looking into each other’s eyes.

A clothed man and a naked woman, at table. We were doing something perverse. We both knew and felt it. I said, “eat.” 

But Sa’afia took a sip of her wine instead. “I told Ana that you spanked me.”

I was puzzled by Sa’afia’s suggestion – demand, really – that I spank Ana. I knew that if I did I’d have a good time, so long as Ana was having a good time too. But I had no reason to think Ana was submissive, and if she wasn’t going to enjoy it what would be the point? I couldn’t imagine spanking someone who didn’t want it. So I said, “Why should I spank Ana? Do you think she’d enjoy it?”

Sa’afia looked at me. I’d said something genuinely strange. “What? Why would she enjoy getting a spanking?” She frowned. “If she was going to enjoy it, why would you do it? That’s…” We looked at each other, having achieved mutual incomprehension.

Then Sa’afia said, “Oh.” She laughed. She was still stroking my cock. “Oh, you mean, like a pervy sex thing? Oh Jaime, you palagi, you’re filthy.”

(Palagi is pronounced “pah-lang-ee”, where “lang” sounds like the German word “lang”, or perhaps “larng”, if you say larng quickly. Palagi can mean “anyone who isn’t Samoan”, but mostly it means “white people”, especially English-speaking ones. It’s not a derogatory term, though if you hear it snarled at you in a certain tone of voice, it might be a good idea to duck. Sa’afia said it affectionately.)

I said, disingenuously, “Well, I don’t know. I know some people enjoy it. Spanking or getting spanked. Or they do both.”

Not boney. Bonny.

“Palagi think everything comes down to  sex. No, I meant you should spank Ana because she’s been messing with you. That’s disrespectful. She deserves it. Put her boney little ass over your knee.”

“It’s not a boney little ass.”

“It’s not like mine. Yeah?” Sa’afia wriggled. She was facing me, but that wiggle worked on my imagination. 

Both asses were perfect, as far as I could tell, but Sa’afia’s slightly more womanly ass was the one on my bed. I said, “Oh yes. Yes, your ass is very very very fine.”

“Thank you.” She poked a finger at my chest. She was vehement about this. “And once you’ve got her over your knee, you get whatever she’s wearing off: right off. That’s how it works. And you smack her. And you do it right.  Not so she enjoys it. To make her behave, silly man.” She glanced down at my cock.

I didn’t want attention drawn to my cock just then. And I didn’t want to think about where this sudden fervour for the discipline of her cousin had come from: Was she jealous of Ana? Was it something she, Sa’afia, wanted herself? Or had Ana put her up to the whole thing? I’d have to explore that some time, but not now.

I said, “You’re a fine one to talk about being filthy. For starters, you’ve got lettuce on your …” And I dived and took a little fold of belly, and the lettuce shred, between my teeth. I bit lightly and shook my head like a terrier, so that she shivered. I speared the little piece of lettuce with my tongue and made it go away, and veered downhill, the further two inches to her cunt. Salty girl, she was.

Sa’afia put her hands on my head and fell back with a whumpff of pillows. So that conversation was over.

And though she’d stopped thinking, I now had a perfectly good explanation and justification for presenting her with an erection.

I frowned. “I doubt -. No, I’m pretty sure that’s not a good idea.”

“She should know what she’s missing. Since you’re so careful not to -. Well, she’s not going to find out from you.” 

Sa’afia was making mischief. If she was any cousin of Ana’s, looking worried would only make it worse. So I said, “You’re cousins, and you’re both Bad Girls. Both of you. So you tell Ana whatever you like. But it’s not going to matter. I’m still not allowed to tell you anything about Ana, I mean about Ana and probation. And I’m still not allowed to fuck her, no matter what you tell her.” 

“She’s been teasing you. You know that, don’t you?” 

I thought about Ana’s lesbian story, and how disappointed she’d seemed with my tediously helpful reaction. I’d believed the story at the time, but I’d started to have my doubts. “Maybe.”

“No maybe about it, Mr Probation Officer Sir. She’s been trying to give you another rere, because you get so cute when you’re embarrassed.” She looked at me to check, and of course I blushed. “It’s okay. It is cute.” She circled my cock with her fingers. It didn’t stir. 

“Huh.” (A ‘rere’, pronounced ‘ray-ray’, is an erection, in Samoan circles. But she didn’t mean my cock was cute; she meant my embarrassment was.) 

“Anyway, she says she tells you filthy stories, and she shows you what she had for breakfast, and she says you just sit there and react like a robot. She was starting to think maybe you were gay. Or something. So I can tell her she’s on the wrong track there.” Her hand, still on my cock, started stroking lightly.   

“She knows I fancy her. That’s not breaking any confidences.” I meant that I’d said it to Ana at the party, after we’d danced together, so it wasn’t covered by probation confidentiality rules. But that was too boring and priggish to explain. Fortunately Sa’afia didn’t question it. “But I’m supposed to be a professional. I’m trying to act like it.” 

How much had I thought about that? Far, far, far, far too much.

“You know, you should give her a spanking.”

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“That’s what she needs, I reckon. I bet she deserves it, too. You should just put her over your knee and smack her bottom.”

My cock, treacherously, chose that moment to wake up in her hand.