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Wife's future hinges on color of panties.

Jennifer was excited at the prospect of the Gin Sling option. Hurriedly they showered and changed before exploring the hotel and its surrounds.

In the bar, they sipped the Gin Slings and soaked up the atmosphere. Peter ordered a light meal of Nonya Laksa. Expensively dressed people from all nationalities chattered among themselves. In the background soft mood music played, and Jennifer immediately reminded Peter of the night when they first met.

"To think I believed you were gay!" They were still laughing as they headed back to the room.

In bed, Peter held her again, but at least tiredness muted the ache of his desire. They slept until the first call to prayer at the local mosque rang in their ears. The boom, boom, boom of a drum, then the rising cadence of the Imam's call to prayer woke Jennifer.

Startled, she shook Peter awake. "My god what's that? What's going on? It's the middle of the night. Has war broken out?"

"It's day already, that's a call to the faithful for prayers. Don't worry you're safe," was Peter's reply as he wrapped Jennifer in his arms and began kissing her shoulder.

"The sun will be up in a few minutes as it's very quick in the tropics. One minute it's dark - the next it's broad daylight. This is the coolest part of the day."

Then, realizing the frostiness that met his kisses, he lay still, cuddling her.

As the day heated, he rose and suggested she join him for a swim.

"I can't," was her excuse as she patted Peter's hand. "Off you go, I'll rest for a while and then I'll come down. We'll have breakfast together and go exploring."

It was not long before screaming and shouting disturbed Jennifer, drawing her to the windows. Throwing open the shutters she leaned out, needing to discover what was causing the fuss.

Below were well-manicured gardens, palms, lawns and the pool. Peter had dropped the robe he had worn from the room and his sarong lay around his ankles. Standing at the edge of the pool clad only in the briefest of swimmers he was about to dive in.

Gardeners, room boys and servants were all pointing at him and shouting. More and more were pouring out into the garden area and pointing at his back. Shutters swung open and more heads poked out as guests wondered what was causing the cacophony. Fingers pointed and arms rose until someone from the office appeared and approached Peter.

It was obvious by the gesticulations that this person was questioning Peter about his back, until Peter tired of the nonsense and roared a message in Cantonese that resounded throughout the hotel. He threw his head back and roared again in Tamil and there was a deathly silence as, much crestfallen, the workers returned to their work.

Day after day, Singapore swallowed them in spite of the heat and humidity. Every street corner offered a new kaleidoscope of life - sounds, colors, smells and tastes. Each night they collapsed into bed, but the moment Peter allowed himself to become amorous, Jennifer froze and, becoming tense, rejected his advances.

Peter knew he was becoming irritable under the strain, but tried to hide his tension behind a screen of false jollity.

Then one night, Jennifer's words, as she slipped into the bed beside him, revealed she had noticed. "I'm sorry Peter, it's not my fault." Weeping she sobbed, "But why have you kept me at such a distance?"

"You're being silly again. There's no blame. If I've kept my distance, it's because I'm terrified I'll lose my self-control. My body's been a raging inferno - a bush-fire almost out of control every moment of the day.

"Walking beside you in the street makes me want to grab you.