There was no shortage of other men setting their sights on Rumiyati, either. Before some gallant hero far more handsome—and clearly far superior—to him came along, Bandot had to tie Rumiyati to him forever. He knew she was the faithful type. Once she was married, she would never turn to anyone else. And more importantly ... once she was satisfied in bed.
Rumiyati, who had been hoping she could marry Bandot soon, naturally jumped for joy when she read the message. However, she deliberately didn't reply. A woman had to play hard to get, after all. She couldn't accept a man's proposal that easily. She should wait at least a few days before giving him an answer. Besides, she had only just acquired the title of widow. She couldn't let anyone think she was easy, much less cheap.
The young man wouldn't be arriving for another half hour. Rumiyati straightened her tired back after the journey to Mbah Siman's house earlier. Then she lay down on her soft mattress.
She felt something churning inside her, demanding release. Rumiyati bit down hard on her lower lip, holding back her desire. Her breathing grew ragged, her passion burning hotter and hotter. It was torture. As the storm raged within her, she longed for a harbor where she could dock.
Slowly, Rumiyati's hand crept downward. She pulled up the hem of the nightgown she was wearing. Her hand slipped between her thighs, then came to rest perfectly against her most private place.
Should I take care of this with Bandot? We're not married yet, but ... I can't stand it. Rumiyati moaned softly as her hand gently stroked her intimate area.
Warmth spread around Rumiyati's thighs. The sensation was the same as what she had felt that night—the last night Subandi had still been with her. The woman wanted more ... again ... and again.
The roar of a motorcycle drifted in from the backyard. It wasn't especially loud, but it was enough to pull Rumiyati out of her reverie. Her back, which had been arched as she endured the exquisite torment, straightened again.
The woman smiled broadly. Bandot had arrived. She hurried to stand in front of the mirror and tidied her appearance. She could hear the footsteps of the man she adored drawing closer and closer to the back porch.
Rumiyati stepped outside. She wanted to welcome the man she loved right away. She saw that he was already sitting in a porch chair, his expression slightly pouty.
“Let me make you some coffee, okay?” Rumiyati greeted him in passing.
She went back inside, heading to the kitchen to make coffee and fetch the fried bananas her maid had prepared earlier. The man she had spoken to only nodded listlessly.
A few minutes later, Rumiyati was back on the rear porch. She served the coffee and snacks, then sat across from Bandot.
“Why the long face? What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?” Seeing Bandot looking so glum had stirred Rumiyati's curiosity.
“Why didn’t you answer my message earlier? You didn’t like it, huh?” Bandot finally spoke.
“Oh, so that’s why you’re sulking.” Rumiyati felt amused. She giggled softly. “That was an important question. The answer is important, too. I don’t think it would feel right to talk about it over text. I want to tell you in person.”
Bandot shifted in his seat. He moved to another chair, right beside the woman. Then he reached for Rumiyati's left hand and clasped it.
“I want to marry you. Soon.” His voice was gentle, but his eyes were sharp. He wanted Rumiyati desperately. No matter what it took, he had to marry this beautiful, fabulously wealthy young widow ... as soon as possible.