Sugar Daddy Savings
First Day

The alarm clock rang to wake me from sleep. Body feels so tired since the adrenaline-pumping battle with Om Yip last night. I got up by massaging my shoulders slowly.

“Shinta,” call mom who is sitting on the living room sofa with a little cough. I approached him.

“Mother, how are you awake? Mom ‘kan should rest.”

“Mother is okay, Shinta. Where do you get money to pay for the hospital?”

I bowed silently, confused to answer how. It's impossible if I'm honest. I took a deep breath and said, “Shinta has already got a job, Mom. Shinta stories our problems, keep the company want to help.”

“Alhamdulillah, Allah is Most Good.”

“Yes, Mom. Yes already, Shinta get ready first, yes Mom. This ‘kan first day Shinta.”

I went and went straight to the bathroom. When I finished I left. Don't forget to say goodbye to my mother and leave a few hundred money for her. I know and understand, if it's illegal money.

“I'm leaving, yes Bu.” I kissed his hands of reverence. An arch rose on my mother's face that added to my morning spirit despite having to swallow this bitter pill of reality.

I stepped out and rushed towards the bus stop. “Shinta,” call mom from home front.

“Ya.”

“Mother wants to have a daughter-in-law,” she said with a knotty smile.

I turned around and pushed mother's body slowly bringing her in. “Mom said nothing, anyway. Shinta new also work, Bu.”

I took a deep breath and immediately ran to the bus stop afraid of missing. I don't know why, suddenly mom wants me to get married. Anybody wants to marry an om-om stash, my inner self. Five minutes later, the bus arrived.

I sat in the corner by the window. A man sat down next to me with an earphone around his neck. I glanced at him, the man who was the other day together with Om Yip. Soon I turned my face away, not wanting to be recognized by him.

The bus was walking leisurely, my fingers covering my face. I don't know what happened in front there, the car with a height of two meters was braked suddenly.

“Aw!” my cry stumbled on the glass. I rubbed my sick forehead while grimacing.

“Hei. You the other day, ‘kan?”

I nodded weakly, also taking a slow breath. “Hai, I'm Rama. You?”

“Shinta.”

“Wah, we're like a puppet story, yes. Rama and Shinta, it could happen this way.” I just get confused. He kept asking this and that. I answered that whole. Honestly, he's pretty good-looking. Moreover, this morning with a brown hoody and neatly combed hair looks more pleasing to the eye than on that day wearing a uniform.

The bus stopped, I was the one who arrived. Rama also came down from there. Carrying a backpack he followed my steps.

“Oh yes, by the way you work?”

“Ya.”

“Where?”

My phone rang, as soon as I took it out of the bag. Om Yip, that name is there.

“Em, I'm at Satya Buddhist Monastery.”

“You want to go to Satya Buddha Temple. That's my place of work, too. Well, it could be this coincidence, yes.”

I just kept quiet and did not respond to any ramblings. Om Yip has been in the courtyard of the monastery. Rama immediately greeted his boss, I just kept quiet and became a spectator.

“Ram, please take Shinta around the temple first. Later, I will tell you the next task, yes. Shinta you work as my secretary, yes. Okay, I wait in my office after Rama explains your duties and this monastery, yes.”

“Good, Sir,” answer us simultaneously.

“Ih, we are the same answer, lest we be a match again,” he said by nudging my shoulders also raise both eyebrows. I just rolled a lazy eyeball. It's up to him to babble anything.

We toured around the monastery as well as the offices of finance and maintenance. Sometimes these monasteries hold free treatment for the public. Also accept donors to help the troubled citizens.

The temple is dominated by pink paint for the entire room. Rama also explained that Om Yip often went abroad to meet the administrators of the temple from various countries.

It was past noon, I was sitting on a row near the back garden pendopo of the Vihara, watching the falling rain slowly drenching the roof of the monastery. Also let this bare foot get in the drops.

A cup of capucino-flavored coffee was right on my face. “This, drink. It's just the two of us here.”

Yeah, all day I just went around and was introduced as Om Yip's secretary. Tomorrow I'll sit in the office doing my job.

“Shin, can I say something?”

“Nby the way.”

“As far as ‘kan, Mr. Boss never had a secretary. Here, yeah. For five years I worked together he never wanted a secretary, what else if women.”

“Emang why?”

Rama changed his sitting position looking at me. “You don't know what his wife is. His wife was jealous for mercy. Amit-amit, deh.”

I frowned. It is only natural that a wife becomes jealous to see her husband who is still so parliament. Still in my confusion, Rama continued his words.

“Earlier, Mr. Boss was caught flirting with his maid at home. Do you not share his wife in the presence of a maid?” I shook my head quickly and sharpened my hearing and was also careful in case one day swapped positions with the maid.

“She was hit with a golf stick until her face bled.” I swallowed a heavy salivary, suddenly I broke out in a cold sweat. Then sipped the coffee brought by Rama.

“Shinta.” The voice greeted me as I was dissolving in daydreams. Rama stood up and saluted. So did I, Om Yip asked me to go to his room. I'm tailing.

The clock showed at four in the afternoon, Rama went home as usual and the other staff. Leave me and Om Yip together. Yes, it was just the two of us in the room and this second-floor Monastery.

I stood up straight with a little down in front of him. Om Yip tucked my hair in the earlobe and gave a lustful breath there. I shuddered, my feathers bristled. Then it dawned on putting yourself in the office.

“No one will know, Shinta. Now it's just the two of us,” he said by locking the office door.

Om Yip kissed my lips savage and I replied equally wildly. We continued to reply until we were cornered near the table. Om Yip carried my body and placed this slender body on top of this square object with dark glass.

Skirt on the knee makes Om Yip so free to vent his desire that so missed the young leaves. The short-sleeved shirt that showed my body goals seemed to give him dirty thoughts to taste everything.

Om Yip started to unzip it. However, the sound of knocking on the door prevented him from completing his wish. Not infrequently he is grieving and angry about the disturbance that out of nowhere and who comes to disturb his pleasure.