Benjamin whirred with activity, building frames and laying them over each of Mahui's footprints. Her face became a mask of fright as he drew near with his project. Although neither she nor Bob could hear what was said when a group of curious partygoers engaged him in conversation, they both knew how the story would end.

It didn't make Mahui look better. "Let's get out of here," Bob said, coming to her rescue.

He led her back out to the yard, near the tree line where the chairs they sat in earlier remained. It was dark enough and quiet enough there for no one to take notice. Mahui's jasper skin made her nearly invisible, save for the silver and gold threads highlighting her black dress.

And her ridiculously bright yellow legs.

Bob again took pity. "Stay here," he commanded. "I'll be back in a moment."

He returned with a bucket of water and a brush. After rolling up his puffy sleeves. he got on his haunches before her.

"Put your foot in here," he said of the bucket. "Let's see if we can clean you up."

Mahui gave a yelp of surprise when she did as she was told, for the water was ice cold. Bob set about the task of scrubbing the paint from her legs.

"I got it from an outside tap," he said of the water. "So I'm sorry about its temperature."

"It's okay," Mahui lied, holding back shivers when he had her switch feet to do the other leg.

Bob threw the yellowed water into the line of trees. "That's about the best we can do, until we get you to soap and warm water."

This time, Mahui took control. She led him through a rarely used door, back into the manor and then up two flights of stairs. The third floor was mostly unfinished and, after rounding a corner and passing through the door of a sparsely furnished bedroom, they entered a vanity with a sitting tub and running water.

Mahui sat quiet on the vanity chair while Bob filled the tub with warm water. It nearly came up to her knees when she put her tiny feet in the tub. To keep her dress from getting wet, she bunched it up around her waist, revealing shimmering silver bikini panties.

Bands of black tribal tattoos adorned the upper half of her right leg. Bob stared at them politely while she glared at his face.

"Those are pretty," he said of the tattoos. "Do they mean something to you?"

Mahui relaxed her expression. "They do." She ran a finger along the path of the uppermost band, nearly touching her vagina. "This is my puhi."

Bob blinked and reared back, thinking she'd said something else. "Your what?" he asked.

She smiled at his misunderstanding. "My puhi tattoo."

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At first glance it looked solid black, thick and encircling her leg. But upon closer examination, it revealed feathery designs in its pattern.

"It's my first one," she said. "I got when I turned fifteen. It signifies I'm a virgin. A woman of noble descent."

"So you're a virgin? I thought you were married."

Mahui's smile grew prettier. "No. I am not now a virgin. I was then, before I got married."

She pointed out the next tattoo, which was thicker and more ornate. It seemed to almost have a face, with circles for eyes and a triangle nose.

"This is my mata hoa. It represents my husband, showing I am married."

She pointed out the next band. Like the first tattoo, it was mostly solid black. But instead of sporting feathery traces, this one looked like thick twisted branches, and brambles with spiky thorns.

"And this is my pāpua. It shows I'm fully grown." She looked deep into his bright blue eyes. "A mature woman, fertile and willing."

Bob gently touched the tattoo, as it had on it a small spot of paint. Between it and the next band lay space for more tattoos.

Mahui spoke soft and low. "This is the place for my children. When I become a mother, their bands will be here."

"You're going to make a wonderful mom," Bob said to the bare flesh on her leg.

She breathed deep and sat up straight as the comment filled her with pride. "Thanks," she said. "I hope I do. And do you have children?" she asked.

"Two. Fully grown and already moved out."

It was Mahui's turn to rear back and blink. "What? Did you have them when you were thirteen?"

Bob laughed. "I look really young for my age."

"I guess so."

She gently took hold of his hand, to get him to stop touching her leg. He pondered what to do, as there was no way for him to get at the paint in the cramped space of the room, save for reaching around her from behind.

"I'm going to get totally soaked," he surmised.

Mahui stared with wide eyes as Bob began stripping off clothes, He placed them on the bed in the other room until he was left wearing grey Speedo briefs and a stretchy white Lycra t-shirt. Upon approaching her looking sexy and buff, she instinctively stuck out her tongue, opening her mouth wide.

"Why do you make that face?" he asked, perturbed.

She took a moment to realize what he meant. "It is of the haka," she said. "A dance we do before battle, to show respect and sow fear."

Bob set about the task of removing the paint from Mahui's legs, using a bar of soap and a washcloth. "So what?" he asked, confused. "You think we're still fighting?"

She smiled pretty to his close face, as he hunkered over her to reach past her ankles. "No. It's just a bad habit, I guess."

Bob disagreed. "I think you do it because it's cute." She gave him a dirty look. "Scary and weird," he said. "But still cute."

He paused when he got near her knees. "Listen," he said. "This paint has dried on real good, and I can't keep scrubbing you up here without your dress getting wet."

"The only thing I have on besides it is underwear. I'm not wearing a bra."

Bob left to search through the bedroom closet. "There's got to be some clothes around here."

Except for a fitted sheet on the bed and a pillowcase on the pillow, the room was bereft of fabric. He returned to the vanity empty-handed, finding Mahui still seated, but with her dress balled up in her hands and pressed against her chest. She slowly exposed her upper body, holding the dress out to give it to him.

Her breasts were tiny but her nipples huge. They began puffing up noticeably, like marshmallows toasting over flame, until they themselves were bigger than the rest of her breasts. Bob's manhood responded in kind, puffing up in his form-fitting briefs.

He held her balled up dress near his nose and breathed its scent in deep, causing his chest to expand. "Well," he said, exhaling big. "You are beautiful."

She referenced his crotch with her eyes. "Thanks. You're pretty hot stuff yourself."

He left to place her dress on the bed beside his outfit, then returned and pulled off his t-shirt, giving it to her to wear. Although the shirt had stretched tight across his pectoral muscles, on her it hung like a smock. It offered a bird's eye view straight down its collar as he reached over her from behind to scrub paint off her knees.

His rock hard rod bumped against her at times as she sat still while he labored, causing her nipples to puff up more. Neither of them seemed to mind.