SUMI MEETS THE DANE! She smiled seductively at him and was amazed at the hungry yearning in her loins to have him deep inside her. It was true that Sumi had had many lovers, most of them expert in the art of lovemaking. But somehow she knew that the Dane was going to be different-better I Without saying a word, she wrapped her arms around him, delighting in the feel of his hairy skin against her own smooth, pale flesh. She ground her full breasts against him, moaning low in a sexy, cat-like way. He pulled her down to the tatami mat, moving his big, strong body over hers. Arching her back, Sumi watched through half closed eyes as he slid his manhood into her, inch by wonderful inch....
CHAPTER ONE
"Good evening, Shinpu-san," Sumi Kajiwara said, her liquid contralto framing each syllable as carefully as if she was performing origami, the art of paper folding, making each accent and inflection seem a thing of intense personal beauty and communication.
And, like the proper Japanese girl that she was, she bowed, her lovely body and ripe breasts pressing against the silken folds of her traditional Japanese clothing as she did so.
Shinpu-san-the Zen priest at the Temple of the Golden Pavilion at Kyoto, where they were-was a young novice to the Zen priesthood, not more than five years beyond Sumi's present age of twenty. Slim, his hair skull-cropped in the traditional Zen manner, his pale yellow features seeming almost knife-sharp in the sunset, he bowed in return, his muscular frame almost convoluting itself into an "L" as his gray pants and shirt of coarse cotton rubbed against his crotch, causing him to think of matters other than religion, meditation, and the austerity of the Great Buddha whom he so humbly hoped to serve.
"Good evening, Sumi," he said, a flutter of excitement raising his mild voice half an octave. He had seen her many times, but not quite so close up before; and today he was alone, for the Zen Master and the other apprentice priests were having dinner.
"Did you come to watch the sunset on the temple?" he asked, feeling his throat becoming dry as he licked his lips to bring some needed moisture there.
"Yes, but not completely. I wanted to pay my respects to Buddha, as I usually do."
He nodded, glancing at the sky. It was turning a deep, sensuous orange on this fine early summer evening, its reflection burnishing the gold paint of the Japanese temple even more than usual. The temple's reflection in the water of the pool in front of it seemed almost like a fairy-tale reproduction, with the windows on the top floor shaped like Buddhist temple bells, and the whole thing shimmering in the water, almost in a ghostly, abstract manner. A most moody, introspective sight.
"Have you ever seen my cell?" he asked so suddenly she almost drew back, a frown crossing her thick lips. Then she said, "You mean they keep you in jail when you are not admiring the beauty of the temple reflected in the water? Perhaps I should check with my bank account; I may be able to make bail for you."
Now it was his turn to look puzzled. And, as he did so, he felt another twinge in his crotch; he did not need to glance down to know that more than his spirits were rising at the moment.
Her apparent Americanization of the conversation should really have come as no surprise.
For Sumi was actually Japanese/American, about 60/40, in that order. Her father had been a GI veteran of the Korean War, who had left the country before she was born. Her mother had been a society beauty who had died shortly after giving birth to her beauteous daughter. Sumi had been brought up by a kindly grandmother who had steered her, as much as possible, on a traditional Oriental path, even to the extent of enrolling her in a school for geishas here in Kyoto, from which she had just come to pay her respects to the temple.
She was a trifle taller than most of her Japanese girl-friends, about five-four, very slim and well-proportioned, with symmetrical legs that were long as a dancer's and a pair of breasts that were sufficiently larger than the usual petite Japanese size to cause comment whenever she wore Western clothes. Her face was more oval than round, her skin lighter than Oriental but still darker than that of a Caucasian (pale gold would come close to being the proper color), and her snub nose and slanted eyes, the latter a deep, sensuous brown, combined with her long, lustrous black hair, usually caused male attention to be directed toward her wherever she went.
The priest, now not quite as puzzled as before, began to understand her comments. He laughed softly and said, "I would be honored to show you my humble abode, if you would like to come with me and share a cup of sake"
When he said that, she felt a slight tremor beginning in her breast, as if her nipples were erecting. At the same time she could feel a movement of liquid inside her vagina, as if she was being turned on by something other than her devotion to Buddha. Well, she thought, Buddha was probably no celibate, and I have not been so for the past six years, so what harm is there in conversing with this young priest?
Shinpu-san gestured and she followed him down a gravel path lined with exotic flowers, until they came to a building separate from the temple itself. As she glanced back at the temple-now really glistening with gold in the final rays of the sun-he reached out to take her hand and she felt his long fingernails touch her sensitive skin. Her clitoris suddenly began to erect itself and she could feel a definite wetness commencing within her inner membranes. Her skin felt as if a hot breeze were caressing it and she noticed her breathing was becoming more quickly rhythmic, as if listening to a Beatles' time.
Still taking her by the hand, he led her to his cell, a space about the size of two tatami mats-two by six feet is what one measures-that was dark except for a Japanese lantern burning in the comer. His futon, the soft mattress, was in one comer, and in another a low table sat, with, among other things, a flask of sake and two triangular-shaped cups placed upon it.
They squatted, cross-legged, in the center, and he reached for the sake and poured each of them a cup. As she tasted it she noticed that it was still warm, as good sake should be. That, of course, meant that he just had heated it; as if he had been expecting her, had prepared it in advance. Well.. perhaps he had. No harm in that ... is there?
His eyes, almost expressionless in their cool intensity, looked straight into hers. She smiled, her thick but sensuous Oriental lips curling open as she tasted the sake with her tongue this time, almost lapping it like a cat. He quickly gulped his down and poured himself another. Rather un-Japanese to chug it like that; but he was starting to twitch in his midriff, for his erection was growing like a flower, and his penis was stiffening as if set in concrete.
His testicles were also starting to ache from the pressure and, as he drank his second cup of sake-this time, a trifle more slowly-he began to remove his shirt with his free hand as he said, "It is very warm, please excuse me."
"Yes, the sake is good," she said.
And, she thought, it is warm; it must be, because I am starting to perspire. And, she thought further, I have the feeling that my offering to the Great Buddha may be a more physical than spiritual gift than I had thought.
Nothing wrong with that, really. Sometimes the most spiritual expression one can make is to properly and fully utilize the physical energy one has for the correct expression of oneness with the universe.
She noticed the faint rippling motion of his stomach muscles; nice and flat was his belly, though his breast bones seemed to stick out slightly from his brown skin. And she also noticed something else: the long, cylindrical bulge that was forming in his pants legs. She licked her lips daintily, tasting the residue of sake. She brought her hand down, the one holding the sake cup, and as she did so her elbow brushed against her breast, causing her now erect nipple to tremble as if she were autoeroticizing herself.
The sake felt warm and mellow inside her. He poured her another cup; he was now on his fourth and, as he again reminded her, "It seems so very warm in here...."
He let his voice trail off as he began to remove his trousers, carefully pulling them from his slender legs. She smiled again, sipping more sake, and loosening her obi, the large sash she wore around her waist to keep her kimono in place around her curvaceous body.
As she did so the front folds of her clothing opened up and her breasts peeped through. She was not in the habit of wearing a bra-very un-Japanese, also very un-American, as far as contemporary fashions went-and her elongated, jutting breasts, their creamy smoothness gleaming with a thin patina of perspiration, began to rise and fall, as if they wanted to climb out of her garment by themselves.
She noticed that his eyes were suddenly centered on her. He nodded, licking his lips; he poured another cup of sake and, raising it as if toasting her, he gulped it down. Then he stood up, letting his trousers drop off completely-she saw that his penis was stiff and solid, with a thick tip and a slight conical arc to the upward curve of its outward thrust-and, as subtly as possible, he bowed to her, his erection almost touching the tatami mats as he did so.
If she wanted to leave, now was the time. She could have easily stated her regrets, made her excuses and walked out on the spot.
But ... she did not.
Instead, she removed her obi, and the removal of the sash caused the front of her garment to drop its folds down to her waist, thus revealing her entire upper torso to the view of the flickering lantern-and the supremely cool gaze of the Zen priest, who, taking the remainder of his sake, touched the tip of each breast with the liquid, then quickly got on his knees in front of her and touched his tongue to each nipple, smoothly licking it clean, one after the other.
She shuddered, feeling the electric thrills of oncoming passion bum throughout her bloodstream as she felt the gentle touch of his tongue. She reached out her hands and took hold of his penis, massaging it between her deft fingers. Her nails were long and sharp, and she carefully rubbed them against his foreskin; she heard his breathing change tempo, felt him shudder slightly with her touch, then noticed his penis become even stiffer, almost perspiring in her delicate grasp.
Suddenly he stopped licking her breasts and gently removed her fingers from his instrument. He stood up; his penis was but inches from her lips. He waited, expectantly, for a few seconds, then suddenly turned away and walked across the cell.
She fleetingly wondered ... have I done something wrong ... is he not satisfied with my touch ... what is the matter....
Apparently, nothing ... really.
He had simply refilled his sake cup. And, upon doing so, he returned to her and poured the warm liquid all over his erection, then stood in front of her again, hands on hips, almost like a samurai warrior with a penis for a sword, waving his instrument right in front of her eyes. He saw her eyes following his motion the way a bull catches the cape movements of the matador. Then he rubbed the tip against her nose and she almost started giggling as he pulled back her head slightly and, raising her mouth, opened her lips into an "O" of delight and stuck out her tongue.
She began to lick his penis.
He felt the tender touch of her tongue and his testicles vibrated in their sac like spinning marbles. He began to perspire, feeling some drops run down his forehead. She was licking the very tip, her tongue now lapping along the glans, pushing against the foreskin, licking slowly and softly, causing his nerve endings to vibrate with electric impulses. He was breathing harder, almost mumbling something beneath his breath; his lips were becoming dry, his tongue stuck against the roof of his mouth. He was starting to shake, like a statue about to be broken down by an electric drill.
Her tongue had reached the very base of his instrument and she was licking away at his scrotum, doing a most complete job of things. He could not have been any stiffer at this moment if his penis had been set in plaster.
She stopped.
She removed her mouth from his crotch and, gesturing with her fingers, motioned him to sit, cross-legged, in the traditional lotus position, which is as common to Zen as it is to yoga. He crossed his legs accordingly, squatting on the tatami mats, his penis still sticking out in front of him. She came closer and, as she did so, she began to unfold the remainder of her kimono so that before she reached him she was completely naked ... at long last.
Even in the dim, flickering light he could see that her golden triangle was lush and delicate, its small opening surrounded by a hedge of pubic hair, soft and neatly trimmed. He could also see that her clitoris was as erect and trembling as her nipples-and, his penis. Then his eyes moved upward to take in the magnificence of her breasts, as if they had been freshly sculpted from soft yellow clay. Their symmetry and balance was as near perfect as any Japanese artist could paint on parchment. He wanted to eat them, to suck them, to swallow them ... now....
He reached his head forward and gave her a gentle bite on her right nipple, at the same time reaching for her left breast with his right hand. He cupped her left breast, his forefinger and thumb gently kneading her nipple. He felt her sigh, felt her skin tremble with his touch. She felt his hand massage her, his teeth gently give her the most delicate of love bites. And then his entire mouth was sucking her breast, trying to draw it all the way back inside his mouth; he was gulping greedily, as if she was truly to be his dinner.
She moved closer, and now her clitoris touched his penis.
They both shuddered at the mutual sexual contact.
He stopped sucking and fondling her, and pulled back so that she could get herself in position to attach herself to him. He thrust himself slightly forward and she moved in closer so that her vaginal lips were rubbed against his instrument of joy. He shuddered violently, so violently that he almost broke his austere position and toppled to the tatami mats; she was really making him forget all about Buddha and think only of sexual, sensual satisfaction.
Her silken pubic hairs were rubbing against his navel now. He sighed; he bent down slightly and touched his lips against her forehead. Her thick black hair was still bound tightly in place in a bun; he could smell the subtle essence of her perfume and the odor pleased his nostrils greatly.
Then....
She thrust herself against him, her breasts pulsating hard against his chest, her vagina opening wide and enclosing his penis like a sword in a sheath. He felt himself enter her secret place, her soft center; she was tight, but not too tight, and he felt her elastic membranes stretch to accommodate his member. She felt him sliding slowly inside her; he was filling up her vagina as the sake had filled up her stomach.
Her taut nipples were digging into his chest, almost breaking the yellow skin with the force of their closeness. But he, austere Buddhist priest that he was, still had his arms folded in the classic pose, while she was running her fingers over his spine and moving her haunches in such a way that his genitals were becoming even more agitated than before.
She was coming now.
Her juice was flowing; her vagina was as wet as the sacred pond outside the Temple of the Golden Pavilion, and her own liquid gold was now pouring forth, causing her to vibrate and tremble in every muscle of her beautiful body.
She was silently screaming as she embraced him, calling for him to join her in the ecstasies of sex.
He was thrusting himself into her, upward like a sword, his penis moving, activating itself all around her membranes, each move like an electric charge inside her. She was really perspiring now-she could hardly help it-and he was sweating most profusely too as they rocked together, their bodies joined like lovers, their sexual exertions continuing, her orgasmic convulsions becoming more explosive each second, her orgasms creating wave after wave of sensual expression....
Until....
He came.
It was the perfect moment; she had just reached a crest in her last orgasm and he caught her just on top, letting her feel his sperm pouring into her, letting her ride the crest as it slowly diminished from crescendo to diminuendo. He poured forth all of his manliness, giving her as good as she was giving him, and his body vibrated with joy, as did hers. They were together, truly; almost religiously.
And somewhere in the Nirvana where his spirit resided ... Buddha smiled.
CHAPTER TWO
About half the structures in Kyoto are wood, originally preserved from the 18th century, pure Japanese style, pagoda-arched roofs, subtle colorings-giving the eye an architectural treat as it looks them over. Also, several canals run through the city, giving it the appearance of an Oriental Amsterdam, and thus add to the esthetic pleasures of the environment.
One of the most interesting neighborhoods in Kyoto, where one can observe the truly Japanese ambiance, is called the Gion. Located about ten-minutes walk from the railway station and the center of town, it contains a long street called Shimo-gawara, where many ryokans-traditional Japanese inns-are located.
Now, a few blocks further on, there sits an elaborate structure with hand carved Japanese god-images adorning the front, that houses one of the most famous geisha schools in all Japan, that of Suzuki Aklyoshi (sometimes called by Westerners as Madame Suzy's Hotpants House; though not exactly true, for a geisha school is hardly the hangout of hookers, happy or otherwise). For the select few, there are occasional demonstrations of the geisha arts, usually on Sunday afternoons, and these require special invitations from Madame Suzy, to ensure that only those who can truly appreciate the subtlety and timing, the years of detailed training that go into the preservation, the teaching of such arts, will be allowed to witness their performance.
On this particular Sunday afternoon a demonstration of the traditional tea ceremony was taking place, and Sumi was one of the ladies showing off her stuff. Dressed, these girls were, naturally, in kimonos and obis, their hair elaborately lacquered, their movements exquisitely timed, they sometimes seemed like tiny Japanese dolls as they went through the motions of preparing the green Japanese tea, called cha, for drinking.
The Dane was in the audience.
That's what most people called this Copenhagen native who had recently been transferred from Tokyo to Kyoto by his electronics firm, for which he was a salesman. He had lived in Japan for three years now and was familiar with many of the Oriental customs and practices. He smoked a dark brown hand carved Japanese pipe that looked vaguely like a meerschaum, but had elaborate Japanese figures and language characters carved from tip to bowl. His tobacco, however, was strictly Scandinavian, with a mellow aroma that often caused the girls to comment; one of the reasons, of course, that he smoked it.
He was about six feet tall, built like a Viking, with broad sloping shoulders and trim waistline, long and strongly muscled legs, and lean, loose-hanging arms that seemed almost ape-like in their movements. He was dark blond, with fair complexion; he wore a small, carefully trimmed beard and mustache that accentuated rather passionate, almost pouting lips. His face was slightly creased, with a few "mature" wrinkles therein (he was thirty-seven, and looked, except for a few crinkles around his deep, cool blue eyes, almost ten years younger), giving him the appearance of maturity with intelligence. He was wearing a dark blue suit with wide lapels and bunched waistline, and beneath it a white turtleneck shirt. He looked very Western, very cool, and very masculine.
And, he seemed to take a particular interest in Sumi.
He watched her preparing the tea leaves in the teapot, being careful to grind them into almost a powder, but not so much that they would lose their inherent flavor. He watched the delicacy of her movements, admiring her grace. Of course, he could tell that she was Eurasian; if her slightly Westernized features didn't give her away, her big boobs certainly told the story well.
He placed his left hand in his pants pocket, just to check something out. Yes, he was right; he was beginning to get a hard-on. She was making him feel like fucking, and the only part of her flesh exposed so far was her face.
His cock throbbed as he touched it against his pants pocket. Old Faithful, he called his prick; whenever he wanted it to spout like that well-known geyser, it was always ready and willing to do his bidding.
Carefully, he adjusted his cock so it wouldn't show against the taut outline of his trousers. He removed his hand; he puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. He knew how difficult it was to meet these highly restricted geisha girls; but, what the fuck, he was going to try anyway. At the very least he wanted his hands on those beautiful tits, if only to check out whether they were real ... or a silicone job done to impress gaijin, that is, foreigners.
As Sumi poured the hot water into the teapot she was glancing at her audience, looking over the men, wondering if any of them might be interesting. She could feel a slight stirring inside her cunt, and that meant, to her, that there was some cool cock in the vicinity, waiting just for her. Her clit twinged slightly, curling itself like a finger; that, too, was a good, sexy sign that a new erotic adventure awaited her, somewhere and soon.
She closed the teapot, letting the hot water do its job of softening up the ground-up tea leaves. Her eyes took in the typical tourists, the curious Japanese, the group-tour types; then she spotted the Dane, and knew instantly that he was in none of those categories.
Their eyes met for a mere few seconds.
But that was enough.
Her huge brown eyes seemed to him a repository of all things both Oriental and sensual. To her, his blue orbs were European lakes, either smooth sailing or turbulent waters, and that made her curious to find out which. She could smell his pipe tobacco too-they were not more than a few feet away from each other-and she liked that. She sniffed with her delicate nostrils, wrinkling her nose like a rabbit. He curled his lips into an amused smile; she smiled back, but only for a fraction of a second. But he got the message.
The tea was ready in a few minutes.
Carrying the teapot and several cups on a tray, she walked down the line of watchers, serving each of them a cup of steaming cha. Some thanked her; some did not. The Dane made sure he was the last one in line. When she came to him he bowed slightly-about a half-Japanese bow-and, removing his pipe from his mouth, whispered into her ear so quickly that no one but she could hear him:
"Let us make love."
He could have said "Let's fuck," but that would have been crude, under the circumstances. He would probably say it later, anyway-when he had her alone in his room at the roan where he was staying, the Maruyama-Gone, a very plush Japanese inn just a few blocks away (he was living there until he found himself an apartment). Then, those words would be appropriate.
At his words, she felt her nipples grow taut with excitement, and her clit was truly vibrating from his presence. She knew now that he would be the man she would spend some time with today. But, she must make excuses, she must slip out; she must be goddam careful, for if she was caught, the geisha school would throw her out on her ass, and that would be, if nothing else, most un-Japanese.
She bowed back, smiled in a special manner, poured him his tea and disappeared into a back room.
The Dane sipped his tea, pleased with the delicate taste. Then he set his cup down, took out a business card, and wrote in Japanese-he could speak, read and write enough basic Japanese to get around; after all, he'd been here three years, he'd certainly learned something of the language by now-his address and room number, adding that he would be at home for the remainder of the day.
He waited until Sumi returned.
Then he went up to her, being as careful as he could so as not to arouse undue suspicion, and said, "Thank you," in Japanese. He caught the slight look of surprise in her eyes, hearing a gaijin speak her own language; then he deftly placed the card just inside her kimono, right by the cleavage between her breasts, so quickly, so deftly, that no one but she knew what he had just done. Then, bowing again, this time a full Japanese bow to the waist, he walked off, his posture erect, the words of his mellow Danish inflection still lingering in her ears, and the silken smooth texture of her skin still feeling nice and sensual on his fingertips where he'd touched her tits as he'd put his card inside her kimona.
Back in his room, he waited, reading a book, drinking some Danish schnapps he always picked up from an import store. The liquor warmed his throat and increased his eagerness for the encounter he was sure would take place.
Time passed.
It was dark, pushing seven o'clock; he was tempted to order dinner, eat it, and take in a film, figuring that he hadn't made it this time. Oh well, win a few, lose a few; what the fuck, he'd make it with someone else, sooner or later.
Suddenly....
His sliding door was rolled back, and standing in the doorway to his room was....
A little old lady with a tray of food.
"Yes?" he said, curious, thinking he had not ordered dinner, and also that this was not his usual serving girl, either. She looked like an aged crone, with wrinkled face and white hair.
Until she spoke; then the voice of a young girl came through, as Sumi said, in English-she spoke some of that language these days-"I could not get away earlier, and I thought you might be hungry, so I brought some food that I cooked myself."
"Thank you," he said, grinning pleasurably as he let her inside and slid the door back into its original position.
He had the futon mattress on the floor, and she placed the tray of food on the table by the wall. He pulled out two pillows for them to sit on and she took off her false mask and wig, revealing her long flowing hair-she was wearing her hair loose-and her beautiful Eurasian face.
They talked briefly, introducing themselves, discussing their lives, the usual small talk. She told him she could only stay with him for a few hours; he told her that he was pleased that she had responded to his invitation. She laughed, saying that she liked his cool, smooth style, and that since she was part Western herself, certain Occidentals turned her on in ways that her own countrymen did not.
"That is most interesting," said the Dane as she fed him juicy tempura and seaweed with her fingers while he poured her cup after cup of schnapps, which she sipped delicately but finished without wasting too much time.
It was not long before they were making themselves comfortable by removing all their clothes.
And she could not help notice but that his cock, long and lean, its tip the size of a baby's fist, was the kind of cock she would very much enjoy having inside her cunt.
So....
Giggling slightly, she dipped his semi-erect prick into the remains of the sunimono soup, which was now cold but still afforded a most interesting taste treat, as she removed his soup-drenched cock and began to lick at it with her dainty tongue.
He shuddered, lying there on the futon, now flat on his back as she hovered over his crotch, her hands holding his dick and massaging it gently, her tongue lapping carefully away at his tip, then moving on along the glans, the foreskin, all the way along the entire length, licking away the sunimono and licking so delicately at his scrotum, and so provocatively, that his balls jumped like frightened animals and his cock began to erect itself into a swinging sword, a thick stick....
She closed her mouth over his cock and drew its length inside her lips. Her tongue nestled its tip; her membranes massaged it as she tried to swallow it deep into her throat.
At the same time her cunt was churning wildly, her liquid beginning its sexual flow, and her clit and her nipples were erecting rapidly, giving her many good feelings. These feelings were increased in intensity when the Dane reached up and got his long, limber fingers on her breasts, squeezing the ripe fullness of them in his hands. Yes, he thought, no silicone here; they are definitely for real, fantastic breasts, most authentic, and quite nice.
He was feeling the good vibrations of sexual arousal coursing through his Viking blood as she sucked his cock with her masticating mouth membranes. He could feel a few drops of sperm dripping out; she tasted them, almost smacking her lips, and swallowed his life-giving liquid without delay.
Then....
As if teasing him, she suddenly released his prick from her mouth and pulled her tremendous tits away from his grasping hands. She reached for her plate of tempura-there was still a fish or two left that had not been eaten-and, grabbing it by the tail, she stuffed it inside, not her mouth....
But her churning cunt.
She was being autoerotic; like a cock, the fish slid inside her well-lubricated pussy quite smoothly and she began to manipulate it inside her wet membranes as if she was, in fact, fucking herself.
She was, in a way, surprised; she had done some weird things, sexually speaking, with Westerners that she had never done, or dreamed of doing, with a Japanese. Yet, the cool command of the Dane, the way he had persuaded her so skillfully and sophisticatedly to come to him-and, soon she was sure, to come with him-was very much turning her on, making her think and carry out such wild, incredible sexual fantasies that they were indeed turning into split-second realities.
As she stood over the Dane and diddled herself, her thumb also manipulating her clit, the sexual charges jabbed into her body like bullets. She began to move, as if dancing, her lustrous hair streaming from all sides of her head, her eyes wide open and almost popping like a fish, her mouth gulping air as if sucking an invisible cock.
The Dane, taking all this in, decided to take more affirmative action. His cock was not the only part of him ready to make a move; not hardly.
He stood up and approached her, his cock jutting out in front of him like a club. He grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her into him; her breasts shoved against his chest, her taut nipples digging into his sweating flesh. He placed his mouth firmly against hers, tickling her delicate facial skin with his beard.
His lips clamped onto hers, he forced her mouth open and shoved his tongue inside, slipping her a very quick, efficient French job, pushing her tongue almost back into her throat as he reamed her mouth membranes, feeling her respond with a propulsive effort to tongue him back. With one hand he took hold of the tail of the fish she had stuffed into her cunt, and began to manipulate it himself. From the gulping, gasping, wordless sounds she was making deep inside her throat, he knew that he was getting to her, in more ways than one.
Her haunches were pressed against his crotch; he could feel her clit against some of his fingers. Finally he stopped kissing her and broke their embrace. Seconds later he got both hands on the fish and, twisting wildly, broke off the tail and tossed it away, leaving the remainder of the fish still stuffed inside her palpitating pussy.
Then....
He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of meal. He whirled her a few times-perhaps to clear her head-and then placed her gently but firmly upon the futon. When he joined her, seconds later, he placed both of them in the 69 position.
He didn't have to tell her what he wanted; in even her wildest fantasies, her strangest dream imagery, she knew.
She got her thick, juicy lips working on his cock right away.
And he got his teeth right into her cunt.
That is, he started to eat her, including the remains of the soggy, juice-drenched fish inside her. Using his tongue and teeth-and rubbing his nose against her vibrating clit with the driving power of an electric drill-he began to chomp and chew, bite and eat her delicious pussy membranes and the still-tasty remains of the tempura. He slurped, gulped, swallowed the mixture, making great approving grunts in his throat.
She could feel him like a ravaging beast, devouring her soft center, causing her to moan and wail in her own throat as she gave him head to end all head arrangements, her tongue slurping, her mouth masticating his cock, which was just about ready to blast off. Of course, her own cunt was churning its multi-orgasmic way so strongly, her life-liquid flowing so quickly that she almost thought she might faint, might pass out from the fantastic sexual strain she was now undergoing. She could not remember when she had been so turned on, so totally devoted to sexual satisfaction.
She could even feel the Dane's beard tickling her pussy.
Well, he continued his gulping away, and when he came-timing things superbly-he caught her just at the beginning of an overflowing orgasm, forcing her to really fight back with all of her strength to keep him satisfied.
She nearly exploded, as if someone had set off a stick of dynamite in her mouth, not just a fucking cock. She gulped down his sperm as fast as he could shoot it out, for he came in one steady, ever-growing stream, pouring forth his juice as he gulped hers down from within her vibrating vagina.
Their bodies meshed and merged and intermingled in the joys and expressions of mutual sex.
It was a long time before, spent and exhausted, yet satisfied despite their physical weariness, they finally broke apart.
He poured some schnapps into her pussy and tried to lick her dry. In this he was only partially successful.
Then he poured some schnapps over his prick and told her to "Please clean it off, it has some more things to do this evening."
Her eyes now bulging as if they would pop right out of her head-she could see that, even as soft as it was, it was about six inches already; of course, it could extend to almost eight (or more) with the proper stimulation-she moved her mouth to do as he commanded.
As her tongue touched his prick again he felt a jolt of electricity jab him. And his cock began to erect itself again as her gentle, trained tongue began to massage his member in its subtle, Oriental way.
And soon he was sticking his cock into her cunt.
Only this time they were standing up.
CHAPTER THREE
A group of Japanese businessmen, none of them under fifty, were hosting a party, and of course they had hired several geisha girls to add their delicate feminine presence to the festivities. They had hired all of the geishas from Madame Suzy's school; all but one were full-fledged geishas, and that one was so advanced in her studies (not to mention breathtakingly beautiful as well) that, since the businessmen were steady (and well-financed) customers of Madame Suzy's, they had insisted that she bring along that super student of hers to the party.
Sumi, of course.
From the hotel's banquet room, exquisitely furnished with many low Japanese tables and calligraphy from the finest painters mounted on its walls, the view of nearby Nijo Castle, its ramparts magically gleaming in the shimmering waves of moonlight, was a most romantic sight. It added much to the general gaiety of the atmosphere, as the geishas, their hair elaborately lacquered and coiffed and garnished with exquisite pearl combs, their sensuous bodies wrapped concealingly in kimonos and obis of all colors, circulated around the booze-guzzling businessmen like so many earthy Madame Butterflies, oohing and aahing whenever one of the more erotically aroused Japanese gentlemen would-but ever so subtilely and deftly, if not politely-try to place his grasping fingers where they should not, under strict Nipponese decorum, be placed.
That is, naturally, beneath the quivering, flowing folds of the girls' kimonos.
You see, the Japanese code of etiquette is quite severe, as far as being in public is concerned. During the day, extreme and exquisite politeness and much bowing and scraping must be observed; all the nuances and subtleties of communication must be exchanged in their proper order, and with the correct parties. However, once the men went out "on the town," especially, as is the Japanese custom, without their women-leaving them home, where, to the Japanese male's mind, they properly belonged-they could operate in a sort of free zone; that is, if they started getting drunk (or only pretended to be getting drunk), they could pretty much get away with almost anything they chose. Their excuse, in these cases, would be that they were only trying to relax from the rigid pressures of Japanese daily life, by drinking, one of many "good feelings" in Japan. Therefore, if they, shall we say, "relaxed" a bit too much, they could be forgiven for whatever indiscretions they might have committed while under the influence.
And thus, the next morning, hung over but unburdened by any guilt feelings, they could go through the usual politeness of the day, then cut loose again that same evening ... and so on, ad infinitum, from one night to the next.
"Sumi ... will you play kasui with me, please?"
It was Takao Takimoshi, an elderly gentleman of about sixty, talking to Sumi, who was sitting on his left while two other geishas were also taking up his time and amusing him with innocent games, such as counting the number of fingers he held in front of him, making anagrams and rhyming words, and other childish pastimes (for that is what most geisha games are, really; kids' games, inebriated Japanese men being like spoiled children at play, for the most part).
Takao was corpulent, but not disgustingly so. Merely that his belly nearly overflowed his blue silk suit at the waist, and several folds hung loose from his chin. His eyes were slightly bulging behind thick folds, his nose squat; he wore metal-rimmed glasses of a thickness enough to create reflections like a rear-view mirror. But he was the most important industrialist there-steel, no less-and his every whim was as binding as a constitutional clause endorsed by the Prime Minister himself.
Sumi nodded, bowing in his direction. As her head came close to his torso, he reached out and patted her elaborate hairstyle with one hand, as if petting a cat. But his other hand, moving with amazing speed for such an older man, slipped quickly inside her kimono and squeezed the nipple, the one on her right breast, then quickly removed itself. If you had not seen it, you would not have known that it had happened. And, as far as everybody else at their table was concerned, it had not happened.
Except Sumi, feeling a tingling around her delicate breast where one of Takao's long fingernails had inadvertently scratched her soft skin, knew.
She also knew that her clitoris was beginning to become aroused, almost to the point of erection. Not that she was all that excited about old Takao; just that, with mostly men around her, she tended to feel like sexual cohabitation more often than not. And, as far as Japanese men were concerned, she could take them or leave them, these days. Which she often did; taking them first, leaving them later.
Takao's old, slightly withered and wrinkled penis nevertheless felt a twinge of rising action as he touched Sumi's skin. Yes, she was arousing him, much more so than the others. He would give Madame Suzy the signal, shortly; then, the Mama-san would suggest an engagement for Takao and his indicated woman.
"Of course, I shall be most happy to play kasui with you, Takimoshi-san," Sumi replied.
Madame Suzy herself, wandering by at that moment (on purpose; she had spotted Takao's maneuvering with little difficulty), bowed in Takao's direction and moved her fan from her left cheek to her right, as if giving a secret signal. Which she was; in effect, "I'll make the proper arrangements for the both of you, when you are ready, oh most distinguished guest."
Madame Suzy was a bit on the large side herself. Two and a fraction inches shorter than Sumi, she was a good half a hundred pounds heavier, and her face was moon-round and rather full, though the folds of flesh around her Oriental lips were not so obviously outstanding. Her eyes were the color of burning amber; they sometimes flickered like flames, other times were as cool as the Suntory Scotch that Takao was gulping down, and had been guzzling all night. Her kimono was green as rich, rain-dampened grass on the temple grounds, and her black hair was flecked with several strands of gray, for she was in her late forties, and such was to be expected, even though she lacquered most ambitiously to keep those strands from showing every day.
Sumi, her bright red kimono and black obi concealing her slowly expanding breasts-but not their general folds, which, as old Takao kept glancing at them, his eyes narrowing like those of a ferret, seemed to be growing larger and larger, as if threatening to burst forth like flowers at any second-began to play a game of kasui with the old man.
Now, kasui is a sort of guessing game, whereby, say, the girl tries to guess what object the man is representing by the motions and shapes of his fingers and hands. It is almost as if the man is sculpting something in the air and the girl must guess what he is trying to say nonverbally.
Several of the other geishas, noticing Takao making motions with his hands and fingers, began to gather around his table, giggling and blushing behind elaborate Japanese fans. They too would like to cultivate his patronage; patronage was what kept a geisha in the style to which her training, not to say experience, had accustomed her.
Yet Sumi couldn't care less about being supported by someone like Takao. Her Western heritage rebelled at it; she would rather make her own way, in whatever way she could. Only, at this moment, she pretty well had to go along with Madame Suzy and Takimoshi-san in their ritualized game-playing because in Japan, under those circumstances, that was the way it was (and often is).
Several other businessmen, too, were watching as they continued to eat tempura and drink sake and Suntory Scotch. A few of them licked their lips as they glanced admiringly at Sumi's breasts, those lovely round mounds now rising and falling slightly beneath the folds of her kimono. In fact, one medium-aged man kept licking at his tempura, biting off thick pieces and gulping it down as he looked at Sumi's breasts, as if wishing he were biting into them instead of the dead, fried fish.
"Do you ... do you know what I am portraying?" Takao asked, first Madame Suzy-who coolly shook her head, courteously-and then of Sumi.
Sumi smiled politely, giving a short bow.
Of course she knew, but it was not the proper moment to mention that particular piece of information. He had just started; giving the man time to get his Japanese thing together, and then she would let him know that she really did comprehend his hand motions. Yes, indeed.
For the old man was moving his hands in an elongated motion, the fingers cupped against the palms, as if eating a hot dog or stringing out a sausage in a grinder. It could have been a passing attempt at imitating a flute player, too, but it was not.
"Let me ... oh, let me put it this way ... Takao mumbled, freeing one hand to gulp down a quick swig of Suntory. He was getting quite drunk, but not collapsing-drunk yet; though his aged hands were shaking, they were still etching a word-portrait that many of the other businessmen were now catching on to, and a few of the geishas could barely restrain their more outrageous giggling spasms.
As for Madame Suzy, she merely nodded, her eyes taking in everything, figuring within a few more minutes the old man would make his play, his last move for what he came to the part for in the first place.
Herself, for one thing.
For they were, had been, lovers of a sort. More like a "sponsor" than a lover, but bedmates, from time to time, nevertheless. Anyway, his financial patronage paid the rent-and much more besides.
The old man was now bowing forward, more in alcoholic splendor than Oriental custom, and his hands were beginning to tremble, as was his ancient sexual organ, which was now beginning to erect itself sufficiently for him to feel it against the confines of his trousers. He continued to move his hands now as if he were peeling back the outer skin of a banana, his fingers as tight as if gripping something long and round and-unlike a banana-stiff and solid.
One of the geishas was giggling so much she got into a coughing jag and had to be excused from the table. A few men were grinning, their mouths as slanted as their eyes, and still Sumi was keeping cool, though in truth, in some abstract way the entire procedure, including the old man himself, was arousing her sexual desires. Her clitoris was beginning to tremble almost as much as the old man's hands, and her nipples were electrifying her breasts with their increasing erections. In addition, the atmosphere was getting stuffy with smoke and incense and she was starting to perspire under her arms.
Finally, after glancing at Madame Suzy-and getting an eyebrow message that was unmistakable in its intent-Sumi decided that the game should be consummated at this moment, and, in effect, a different game begun at another location.
"Yes," she said so sweetly and softly yet her voice was so charged with suppressed emotion that all eyes were suddenly upon her. "I know, Takimo-shi-san, what you are trying to tell me."
Meaningful pause. All motion, all conversations ceased, as if time remained suspended. All attention on Sumi now, as she carefully moved her legs in such a way as to call attention to her soft, sensual center of attraction.
"You are a jet plane, and you are going to land at an unknown destination, and enter a secret hangar, where your plane will be refueled so that you may fly again." She bowed, most gracefully, and asked, "Is that not so, Takimoshi-san?"
The old man laughed, his voice almost cracking; then he started coughing and reached for another swig of liquor to straighten himself out. Madame Suzy smiled, then motioned the other girls to leave, to join the other gentlemen who seemed desirous of their services.
Madame Suzy looked at Sumi, then at Takao, and said, "Let us go to your room, Takao, and we shall continue our games in private."
Takao staggered to his feet with one hand gripping the half-empty Suntory bottle so that he would have liquid excitement, should he desire more. Madame Suzy was on one side of him and Sumi on the other as they led him upstairs to one of the suites that had been prepared for those gentlemen who desired to spend the evening there (and, naturally, not alone). It was about three times the size of an ordinary room, and not only was a pot of steaming cha set for them, but also several futons were laid out so that the Japanese mattresses covered almost half of the floor area. And, in the background, from concealed speakers, a record of Japanese koto music was playing, creating the proper atmosphere for what was to follow.
As soon as they were inside, Madame Suzy locked the door. Which somewhat surprised Sumi, who had assumed that she was to minister to the old man's needs by herself.
Though ... no.
The Madame told Sumi to help her undress Takao.
Slowly, carefully, they peeled off his damp, rumpled clothing. Suzy patted his ample belly as she did so, and Sumi smiled wistfully as she noticed his wrinkled, aged old organ, struggling to assert itself. Touchingly, she bent over and kissed it right on the tip, and the old man moaned with rapture as he felt the delicate touch of the young girl's lips.
Madame Suzy smiled her approval as they finished undressing Takao and placed his clothes inside the closet. Then the Madame poured him a cup of tea and forced him to drink it, to sort of sober him up a little while Sumi reached inside her kimono and carefully placed her forefinger against the entrance to her vagina. Rubbing her finger against those soft membranes, she could feel a touch of wetness there, a few drops of her life-giving fluid beginning to seep out.
She withdrew her hand and placed her forefinger an inch or so from the old man's lips and nose.
He finished gulping down a cup of steaming tea, and, setting the cup down, he suddenly began wrinkling his nose like an agitated rabbit. Then he moved his head slowly, carefully-he was still slightly drunk-toward her finger, his nose sniffing all the while, and his tongue, also slowly, carefully, began to protrude like a snake from its hole, until it was just barely touching her finger.
Madame Suzy nodded in approval as Takao started to lick the vaginal juice from Sumi's finger. As he did so he made gurgling, slurping sounds in his throat, as if he meant to lick her skin right off to the bone.
His senses aroused by the delicious flavor of her juices, he started to touch her, to take off her clothes. She continued to sit on the floor, allowing the old man to unravel her kimono and remove her obi, until her magnificent body was complete unclothed, her fully erect breasts protruding forward like cannons ready to fire.
"Aaaaah!" the old man muttered, seeing for the first time Sumi's voluptuous young body with its exquisite proportions. "Buddha is most kind ... to allow me ... to enjoy the sight ... of such a lovely young lady ... utsukushii...."
Which means, of course, beautiful in Japanese.
And, that same sight of this lovely young lady seemed to be doing wonders for his ancient organ, for it was sprouting like a fast-growing tree, its foreskin slowly peeling back from its glans, its head as tough as a tiger lily and its testicles growing and bunching together like two oranges in a sack.
In fact, Takao was feeling those electric thrills running through his nervous system, rejuvenating his aged body in a way that he had not felt in years, if not decades.
And in this feeling he was greatly helped also by the sight of Madame Suzy, who was removing her clothing, too.
Yes, the Madame herself was going to join in the fun, just to make sure her number-one customer was thoroughly satisfied, for Madame Suzy had a yen to make yen as well as make love.
With great dexterity she removed the folds of her clothing until her pendulous breasts and bulky body were completely on view. Her own nipples were rather erect by this time and she could feel her finger-large clitoris trembling with excitement, her vaginal fluids beginning to flow like a river after a spring rain. The Madame came close to Takao and placed her bulging breasts directly in front of his eyes, which were burning with lust. He reached out his trembling hands and placed both of them on her appendages, squeezing them as if testing fresh fruit. She could feel his fingernails scratching at her akin, his thumbs needling her nipples, and some electric thrills now coursed throughout her own body as he began to massage her giant breasts, his tongue slowly licking his lips as he did so.
As for Sumi, she was playing with his penis with one hand, stimulating her breasts with the other.
With her left hand she began to fondle her own breasts, rubbing her fingers up and down from nipple to base, her fingers carefully nurturing her nipples, feeling a pleasant glow appearing on her skin from her autoerotic movements. She began to rub the lovely cleft between her breasts, feeling her breathing change tempo and her sexual desires become aroused. At the same time her right hand was deftly squeezing Takao's instrument, slowly pulling back the foreskin and also tickling at his scrotum, and he could feel his manhood growing ripe and full with each passing second.
He began to sing-song an ancient melody, an old song he had first learned in school when he used to play the samisen, a traditional Japanese stringed instrument. Now he felt as if he himself were the samisen, and Sumi was playing him.
He dug his hands deeper into the fantastic flesh that was Madame Suzy's breasts, as she felt her inner liquid become as hot as the pot of cha on the table.
Sumi continued to fondle his organ, pleased to feel it growing into usable shape as she did so.
Then she stopped fondling her own breasts and moved her hand over to tickle the old man behind his ears. He began mumbling, giggling, almost laughing as he felt her deft fingers running over his sensitive, though slightly wrinkled, skin.
His mouth opened and closed several times, as his eyes were but inches from Sumi's breasts, and he was beginning to want to do something about them, with them....
He did.
He moved his wizened old head forward and got hold of her left breast with his mouth.
He started to suck her breast, his tongue pressing against her nipple, his aged teeth pressing against the outer skin of her appendages. He began to make deep, rumbling, slurping sounds from his throat, and his body hunched forward like a striking snake as he sucked and bit and massaged her breast with almost every ounce of strength he could summon.
And, old though he was, he was getting Sumi excited, for she could feel her vaginal juices flowing now like a river flooded by heavy rains. Her skin was feeling tingly all over, her breathing was still changing and her breasts felt solid and sensual.
Finally she and the Madame felt that the old man was ready for some serious sexual action.
And, judging from the way that his penis was throbbing in intensity, now raised as fully erect as a tree in the forest, he would agree.
All three of them broke apart temporarily as the two women laid the old man on the tatami mats, flat on his back, his organ sticking straight up like an exclamation point.
Then Madame Suzy got the nearly empty bottle of Suntory and poured some on his penis. Sumi reached over and touched her tongue to his tip-causing him to shudder slightly and start humming his school song again-and began to lick the stuff off, noticing that a few drops of his semen were now intermixed with the Scotch as she slurped both down her throat.
Madame Suzy, meanwhile, was sucking at the Suntory bottle as if it was a penis itself, slurping down some of the liquor into her own gulping throat. When she had knocked off a few swigs, she bent over Takao and began to kiss his mouth, her tongue sliding past his teeth and right into his throat.
And in the background the taped music of the Japanese koto was swelling into arpeggios and glis-sandos of subtle, exquisite beauty, adding to the sensual awareness of all concerned.
Sumi now had most of the old man's penis inside her mouth as her thick lips sucked away, her tongue working out on its tip. Her throat was tickled by the eel-like thing she was nearly swallowing and she almost started to cough.
The Madame was still kissing away at the old man's mouth, her teeth biting his lips, her tongue swishing away inside his mouth. He was kissing back, of course, trying to bite her tongue as he did so.
Now Sumi took her mouth away from his penis.
She looked down at it; it was covered with saliva, glistening in the dim light. It was now fully erect, as fully erect as an old man's instrument could ever be.
So she carefully lowered herself over his aged body, touching her clitoris against the tip of his organ. She shuddered, as did he; those electric thrills began coursing throughout her nervous system, prickling her skin, causing her breasts to rise and fall again.
She rubbed against him for a few minutes and he could feel those youthful desires really stirring now, especially as the Madame was also rubbing her breasts against his chest at the same time, their fat fleshy things rubbing against his white hairs.
Now Sumi began to lower herself on top of him.
She touched the opening of her vagina against his erection. He moaned loudly as she slowly lowered herself over him, and she could feel her lips slowly opening up to receive his organ. He could feel it penetrating inside her and enclosing him like a velvet blanket.
He thrust upward.
She felt him jabbing her, and he was not completely filling her, though he was managing to cover a lot of ground inside her just the same. She started jiggling up and down, moving around so that he could touch every part of her membranes, and she felt her fluids pouring out more with each movement.
Now, the Madame was not getting anything in her central opening, since Sumi had the old man's instrument in hers. Yet Madame Suzy wanted her pleasures too, so she moved herself around so that her own vagina was now poised above Takao's face and her body was at a right angle to his. That is, she was spread across him, like the upper part of a cross.
The old man's eyes were bugging out by now, feeling Sumi's vaginal membranes taking care of his instrument and at the same time feeling the Madame's huge, gaping hole slowly descending over his....
Nose.
Yes, she was letting him sniff her from the inside.
He almost sneezed, but he breathed in the heady aroma of vaginal juice, and his tongue began to slip outside and try to lick at her slit. She pulled herself off his nose and let his tongue slip into her slit and lick away at her juices, which were now starting to flow more freely. He gulped the stuff down, his body now jerking spasmodically. Sumi was really putting the pressure on him from the other end, his ancient penis jumping and jabbing into the young girl's center like a sword.
He bit the Madame on her clitoris and she felt a stabbing, excited jolt of sexual electricity blast through her.
Then his nose was nuzzling her clitoris and his lips were firmly clamped across her vaginal lips; his mouth began to suck and his tongue began to strike, and she could feel him going hot and heavy inside her.
He reached out to steady himself and got hold of the Madame's right breast. His fingernails creased her skin, his fingers clutched strongly at her flesh-he was holding on to her is if he were drowning and she was a life raft. She could feel his strong, talon-like grip, and she liked it, her own vaginal juices beginning to pour out, her own orgasm beginning even before that of Sumi, who, after all, was really the one with the old man's main device inside her.
Now, as for Sumi, she was feeling no pain or strain, just Takao's machine inside her, jabbing and stabbing away. She was starting to come, her juices intermingling with a few drops of sperm that he had managed to shoot off, and plenty of perspiration.
She felt her erectile nipples digging against his chest, and her head was also rubbing against one of Madame Suzy's breasts, judging from the position of both women on the old man. It was a strange sensation, almost a menage-a-trois Japanese style, and it was turning Sumi on even more than the old man.
His testicles were inflamed now to the point of bursting through their scrotum sac, as thin as parchment, and his foreskin was really stretched back, leaving his glans so exposed that it was getting super stimulation from the soft membranes of Sumi's vagina. He had to come ... no doubt about that ... and soon ... or he might explode from the strain....
And ... he did....
Not explode, but ejaculate.
Sumi was in the middle of only her first orgasm, but she felt his penis fire off a short, gasping round that caught her, and she increased her ministrations as he did so. Madame Suzy felt it too, even at the other end, and she increased her own orgasmic thrust until she could feel his tongue jabbing her like an erect member, and he could feel her liquid gushing out all over his face.
He started swallowing her stuff, gulping it down as fast as she could chum it out. He clutched her breast even more firmly, almost as if trying to rip it off. He moaned and gasped, his body shuddering as if attached to an electric vibrator, as every drop of semen he could summon poured into Sumi's vaginal opening, and her own beautiful liquid poured out, merging in rhythm with his staccato outbursts and the koto music, still playing in the background.
They continued until the old man was out of steam-and sperm.
But Madame Suzy let his tongue rest inside herself as Sumi let his penis also stay inside herself. Both of them wanted to give him as much pleasure as possible.
Yet, Sumi sighed; while she had enjoyed it, she still wanted someone else, not him, inside her.
Who else but-the Dane?
CHAPTER FOUR
The Dane and Sumi were together again.
She had missed him so much, and he her; so, again, at his hotel room-they could hardly get together in her geisha house, without causing problems for a maiko, an apprentice geisha, that might prove insurmountable to her status there-they were doing what comes most naturally to both of their ancestral heritages.
Fucking, of course.
But ... not just yet.
First he was reclining, Buddha-style, his legs crossed in front of him while she anointed his body with schnapps by pouring the liquid over his shoulders and letting it slowly drip down his well muscled body. He sat there naked, his prick semi-erect, his expression wryly amused as she finished dousing him with the liquor.
Then, kneeling behind him, she began to lick at his back.
She started with the nape of his neck, sniffing first his dark golden curls, then letting her tongue nibble at the nape of his neck, slowly moving her tongue so that it also made contact with some erotic places behind his ears and on top of his shoulder blades as well.
He shuddered, feeling pleased by her touch. His skin tingled; he felt his prick becoming aroused, his balls tightening inside their scrotum. He smiled, sniffing the air, as if he expected to smell her sweet juice already.
He might have been able to; she was naked too.
Her tongue was now moving at the upper middle of his back, as she licked away at his shoulder blades, then began to tongue him along his vertebrae. Her lips were touching his skin at the same time, and he was getting warmer-and, sexually speaking, hotter-by the second.
She kept on licking, her tongue now moving down to his waist.
She licked around his waist, moving down to the very tops of his buttocks, rounded and smooth and as well-muscled as the rest of him.
She kissed his ass.
Not in prostration or submission; no, because she liked his well-rounded ass and its nicely curved buttocks, and she wanted to show him, in her own subtle Japanese way, how much. Plus, in her own part-American way, she was becoming more aroused by him and she wanted to show him that, too.
So, after lip-smacking his skin, she took a gentle love bite on his left buttock.
He almost jumped; her teeth bit down, harder than either of them had expected, into his flesh, and she started chewing at him as if he was a piece of Kobe beef. Then she moved over to his right buttock-by now the astringent flavor of the schnapps had penetrated her taste buds, but there was no liquor where she was now munching-and bit him there, too.
"Marvelous," he said. "You are so unbelievable, Sumi, I would not believe you if you were not biting my sweet ass."
Sumi said nothing.
She was too busy eating at his flesh.
When she was finished, she came around front and checked his cock.
It was about halfway up now, its tip protruding nicely, its foreskin partially pulled back. She knelt in front of him and, bending over, rubbed her breasts against the tip of his prick. She felt those prickly feelings rising on her skin and her blood began to flow warmer and faster, her skin vibrating with pleasure. Her nipples began to erect, her breasts felt fuller with each motion as she made contact with his cock.
She did not feel like talking; not just yet. Better to start out the Japanese way, subtle and cool; then to finish things the American (and/or 'European) way, with much sex talk and exhortations to "Get it on!" and "Fuck me, sweet baby!" and such expressions as that.
Now she straightened up and reached for the bottle of schnapps. She poured a generous helping of schnapps over her breasts and moved in again closer toward him.
He knew what to do.
Without touching her, keeping his arms folded like a presiding judge in court, he bent his body and lowered his head so that his nose touched the soft place, the cleft between her breasts.
He sniffed the pungent aroma of the liquor, rubbing his nose in it, and she could feel the marvelous sensation he was causing in her. Her cunt started to chum out some joy juice, and she was trembling all over as he now moved his nose to rest against first her left nipple, then over to her right, nuzzling each one with firm yet delicate strokes.
Then he pulled back slightly, opened his mouth, and, sticking out his tongue, started to lick her left tit.
She trembled some more as his tongue made contact with her erectile nipple, and she could feel him lapping and licking away. He moved from tip to base and back again, covering every square inch of her beautiful boob, not making any sounds whatsoever in his throat.
Next he moved over to her right tit, and this time, as well as licking it, he gave her a couple of generous love bites that almost had her leaping off the floor.
"Ooooooh!" she sighed, her voice as musical as a koto. "I cannot wait ... I must have you in me ... now...."
Not now, though.
First ... some more tongue and teeth action.
He unfolded his arms and reached for the bottle of schnapps, which was almost empty. He took a long, great gulping drag of the bottle, getting most of the stuff inside his mouth. But, before swallowing, he suddenly moved his head downward, moving his entire torso at the same time, and, placing his lips directly against her pussy lips, he let much of the schnapps pour inside her pussy.
She shivered, feeling the liquid hit her in her soft center. But that was only momentary; a few seconds later she was sweating with satisfaction as he started licking and sucking at her cunt, giving his taste buds a treat of perspiration, perfume (for she used that in places other than behind her ears), pussy juice, and Danish liquor. He gulped down whatever liquid mixture he could get inside his mouth, malting loud sucking sounds from deep within his throat, and she shuddered and trembled almost as if he was beating her up, the way he was using his tongue almost as a fist inside her.
As for Sumi, she was sitting on the tatami mats, her body erect though trembling in the throes of sexual stimulation, her hands running through the Dane's curly hair and tickling his beard. He said something like "Ummmm" as she did so; in fact, his mustache was tickling her trembling clit and she was getting that electronic message from him in more ways than one.
Some Danish music played in the background, courtesy of some tapes the Dane had brought with him from Copenhagen. A symphony written by a famous Danish composer at the turn of the century, with a somewhat impressionistic theme, yet featuring much expressive brass; in short, moody and powerful music.
Not to mention the Dane's omnipresent pipe.
His pipe?
With his tongue still dipping deep into the Japanese girl, he suddenly remembered ... where was his pipe? ... he had not smelled the pungent aroma of his own apple-scented tobacco for quite some time....
Abruptly he pulled his head away from her crotch.
He raised his torso erect again, but said nothing. She was startled, but made no comment. She was sure that he knew what he was doing; she knew him well-enough by now to know that. He wouldn't pull out for no reason at all. As he once put it to her, "Sumi, my sweet, just trust in the Dane's brains, and everything will be well."
Ah!
There it was, on the low table; it was sitting there in an ashtray, but it had gone out. He had previously placed it there when he was getting undressed and had apparently forgotten all about it. He craved a smoke; and yet he also wanted to try something else, to have Sumi join him, as it were, in smoking.
But ... in quite a different way....
"Sumi," he said most politely. "Would you please light my pipe and fetch it for me?"
"Hai," she purred (the Japanese word for yes; it was, needless to say, the Dane's favorite word, if not also hers).
She reached for his silver pipe lighter, lying next to his pipe.
Then she noticed that his pipe bowl was only about half filled with tobacco. Obviously, he needed more, if he was really going to get a good smoke going. So, since his tobacco pouch was also on the table, she unzipped it, placed some fresh tobacco inside the bowl of his pipe, patted the stuff down with her sensitive fingers, lit it, and then passed it on to the Dane, who stuck the pipe stem into his mouth, took a few exploratory puffs, and was rewarded with his special flavor and a few approving puffs of smoke.
As he puffed away, Sumi, without being asked-one of the Japanese ways of endearment was for a lady to take care of her man's needs before he even felt the need for them, much less said so; in short, to anticipate his needs, and get with it at once-bent over and began to take hold of his cock, gently easing back the foreskin, holding it between her hands, stroking the scrotum and at the same time bending down low enough so that her tiny tongue could dart out like a striking snake and lick its tip.
The Dane shuddered in enjoyment, feeling the touch of her tongue all over him. He smiled, still smoking his pipe, tasting the tangy aroma, watching the smoke pile up above their heads.
Sheer bliss.
He could feel his cock growing longer and stronger with each tantalizing touch of her tongue.
Finally, she too could see that she had accomplished her main purpose, so she stopped licking and sucking him, and raised her head and torso back to her original position. Her lustrous black hair was loose, hanging around her shoulders and down her back like a dark-textured waterfall, and her deep, limpid brown eyes were glowing with sexual arousal.
The Dane's baby blues twinkled with delight as he removed his pipe from his mouth and said, "Sumi, I would like you to join me in smoking my pipe." Pause. "Would you like to try it?"
She looked at him with a twinge of uncertainty in her eyes, as she replied, "Well ... if you wish. But, I must tell you that I have never smoked before."
"That is not what I meant."
She blinked a few times, puzzled, then said, "I do not understand...."
"You will, my sweet. Just be patient, and watch what I am going to do, which will tell you exactly what I have in mind."
So saying, he took his pipe and placed it....
Inside her pussy.
Yes, he carefully opened her cunt lips and slipped the stem of his pipe inside so that it was held securely by her moist membranes. He was careful to insert it so that it did not tilt, so that it stood straight up, so to speak; otherwise the hot ashes might fall out and bum her sensitive skin, and neither of them would want that to happen.
She giggled slightly; it was a strange feeling, the burnished wood of his pipe instead of the solid flesh of his prick inside her trembling pussy. She could feel the heat from the burning tobacco, she could smell the pungent aroma of his tobacco wafting upwards and into her quivering nostrils.
She smiled.
She thought that, like most Danes she had heard about, he had a droll sense of humor. She remembered that he had once told her that Victor Borge was not a typical Dane; that is, only in his finances, for, while he was obviously richer than most Danes, his basic sense of humor was about the same as all of them.
The pipe started to droop slightly.
He spotted that and, reaching over, took hold of the stem to steady it; at the same time his thumb came into contact with her clit and he began to tweak it just a bit, still holding the pipe steady. He was really grinning now because her pussy was really moving, really puffing away on his pipe so that the fire was still burning and puffs of smoke were pouring out, exactly as if being smoked by human lips.
"Very good, Sumi," he complimented her. "You smoke my pipe better than the Danish ladies smoke their famous cigars, on the Vesterbrogade in Copenhagen."
She nodded and bowed slightly, acknowledging his compliment. She could feel the burning tobacco smoke from his pipe coursing throughout her body, as if it had entered her bloodstream. She was becoming aroused in a strangely different way. Too much so, though; for, as her liquid started to flow, it was also jamming up the pipe stem, and....
Suddenly, the pipe went out.
"I am sorry," she apologized, and reached down to get hold of the pipe. But he intercepted her and removed it from her cunt himself, saying, "That is all right, it is time I had another smoke myself."
He placed it between his lips, tasting her pussy juice as he did so. He reached for his silver lighter, and ignited the tobacco again. He sniffed the combined aroma of apple-scented tobacco and fresh pussy juice and, breathing them both in, he was content.
For the moment.
She sniffed, her nostrils wrinkling like a rabbit's. She could smell the mixture, too. And she liked it; it made her clit twitch and her tits tremble and her cunt chum with sexual desires, the ever-increasing desire to have the Dane inside her, doing it to and with her, fucking like a fanatic, so that she could cut loose from her Oriental politeness and get as rough and raunchy as a Western cowgirl with her cowboy.
While the Dane was not exactly Clint Eastwood, shooting and screwing everything in sight, he was still the only man who had really appealed to her in months, if not years. And, right now, she knew where she really wanted him....
"It is time to fuck," he suddenly said, as if he was reading her mind; or ascertaining what her pussy was really palpitating about.
"Come to me, Sumi," he added, altering his Buddha-like position slightly so that his cock stood straight out, pointed at her belly like an accusing finger. It was now quite erect, quite ready for action.
She bowed, acknowledging his masculine take-charge manner. She moved closer to him, spreading her lovely legs at the same time so that her damp pubic hairs and trembling clit, her pussy lips opening like an envelope containing an invitation to a particularly enjoyable party, were all at his disposal.
"Come closer yet, Sumi, so that you may envelop me in all of your Japanese delicacy," he purred, his voice as smooth as his tobacco.
She trembled again in eager anticipation of their upcoming union. She moved closer, until her elongated nipples were rubbing against the tangled, curly hairs on his chest. She felt her clit make contact with his navel, felt her cunt suddenly closing over his cock....
And with one sudden thrust-hers, not his-he was inside her, his cock cutting upward into her cunt, her membranes by now so well-lubricated that he was able to enter her in just one powerful thrust. Only, as mentioned, she was making the opening moves in this sexual chess game, not him.
She felt him inside her, round and firm, fully covering all the membrane expanse inside her pussy. His cock began to move and groove, almost automatically, and she could feel those powerful sexual vibrations all over her body, from the tips of her hair follicles to the nails of her toes. She was starting to do a very un-Japanese thing; she was beginning to perspire, and rivulets were running down her face and front and back.
The Dane was sweating too as he began to hump and pump his prick inside her, feeling it jabbing at her sensitive membranes, feeling her quick responses as she thrust her breasts harder against his chest. He could feel their fullness, their nipples digging into his flesh, her clit being activated by his navel, her arms around his shoulders and her fingernails scratching out a "Let's go, lover!" on his back.
Yet, almost as austere as a Buddhist priest, he still maintained his basic position, squatting on the tatami mats as he had been doing before, barely moving his body, letting her do most of the work this time. He knew that that was the way she wanted it; he knew that she was really digging him more every moment they spent together. He was, in short, exerting his masculine prerogative, taking charge of things, and taking care of business the way it should be taken care of.
She was starting to come now, her orgasmic thrusts increasing in intensity and vibration. Her entire body trembled with lust as she felt his prick jabbing away inside her pussy, and her own lovely liquid flowing out and covering his prick like soft butter being spread over a thick chunk of home-baked bread. She was clutching him even more closely to her, and her thick, Oriental lips were kissing his face and neck, her white polished teeth taking gentle bites out of his skin.
While he, his arms impassively folded in front of him, was letting her make most of the efforts. Though it must be said that his mouth was not unbusy, for his tongue was snaking out and licking at her eyes and mouth, his lips clamping down sometimes rather hard on chunks of her sensitive skin. And he was making great barks from his throat, almost like a hunting dog cornering its prey, as she kept crying and sighing and humming some obscure Japanese melody, as the Danish symphonic music from the Dane's tapes was rising into a powerful brass climax, a blistering musical crescendo....
In her mind, she was screaming for him to come, to join her in sexual unison. Her orgasms were increasing in intensity with each passing second and she felt as if she were going to explode, as if her body was going to break up into a dozen parts and go flying in all directions, if he didn't come soon....
Well, he was waiting, this time wanting to catch her on the downward slide of an orgasm so that he could really shake her up, make her try just that much harder to catch up with him again. He waited, his cock jabbing her cunt, forcing her into explosion after explosion, until....
He came.
He exploded inside her churning, liquid cunt, his cock blasting into her with the power of a 30-30 rifle. He let out one steady, spurting stream of sperm, his style cool and continuous, his ejaculations as smooth as milk pouring from a container. She felt him shooting off inside her and struggled to get her orgasmic thrust going again, feeling his sexual inspiration moving her.
Finally, just before he was forced to slow down, to cease altogether, she got another orgasm going and began to ride him home. He felt her beginning to crest again, and though his exertions were slowly dying down he gave one last great savage thrust that almost knocked her over on her back as the two of them blended and melted within each other, their sexual union complete.
Their relationship thus far seemed to be taking on all the characteristics of a joji; that is, an authentic Japanese affair.
CHAPTER FIVE
A Kyoto spring is not complete without a festival, and one in particular is famed far and wide throughout Japan. It is one of the three biggest in Kyoto, held in mid-May, and it is called Aoi Mat-suri, in the Hollyhock Festival, featuring not only a great flower-bedecked parade but also a procession of nobles wearing costumes from the 8th century and riding imperial carriages drawn by oxen, exactly as in those glorious days of yesteryear.
The procession itself winds through the narrow, twisted streets of the old city, starting from the city's center and ending on the grounds of the Old Imperial Palace (for Kyoto was Japan's capital city for many centuries, until 1603, when it was moved to Tokyo). It is always crowded and sometimes the oxen have great difficulty in getting through the streets, so thronged with people laughing and singing and dancing and in general making much merriment, Japanese style.
So also was the situation on this particularly balmy, sunny May day, when Sumi and her girlfriend, Mari, were observing the festival. Mari too was a maiko, in the same house as Sumi. She was about Sumi's age, though two inches shorter and ten pounds heavier; but still, though slightly overweight, she was not unattractive. Far from it; most of her weight was in her buttocks, though her legs were not quite as slim and trim as Sumi's, but her torso was fairly slim and her face was only slightly more rounded than Sumi's, her lips slightly thicker and her eyes as big and beautiful as her girlfriend's. She was, moreover, more aggressive in her manners than Sumi; that is, in an aggressive Japanese sort of way, she would make eye and hand signs indicating what she wanted, with no further delay.
And, as Sumi and Mari were watching one carriage in particular, the latter had something in mind.
The driver.
A most aristocratic-looking Japanese, as far as his face was concerned, for that was all that was visible from his elaborate, fringed costume, all flowing red and black and green silks and a three-cornered helmet mounted atop his head. His face was long, lean, very masculine-looking, his eyes slanted almost at a ninety-degree angle, his mouth sharp but not nasty. He seemed to have an arrogant smirk permanently etched upon his countenance, and the way he held himself upright while giving orders to his driver to move his carriage on its way seemed to impress Mari all the more.
"I would like to bounce with him on my futon," she said to Sumi, her voice a high-pitched sing-song of desire.
"You should not say things like that in public," Sumi replied.
"Why not? I do not care who is listening, it is none of their business." She pointed, in a most direct way, at the man in question and continued, "He looks like the kind of man who really knows how to take charge of a woman. I would like to meet him, to see if he is man enough to take charge of me."
Sumi whispered into her girlfriend's ear, "He would probably give you a karate chop on your left kneecap, and walk away laughing. He looks like a mean man, and I do not like those kind of men at all."
As if to emphasize her point, the gentleman in question was shouting at his driver, demanding that he clear some of the people out of his way so that his carriage would continue to move at its accustomed pace. He ordered the driver to crack his whip over the heads of a few people who were standing, he thought, too close, crowding around his tired ox. The snap-snaps of the whip caused much attention to be focused in that direction, and some of the people backed off hastily, thus clearing more of a path for the carriage.
Mari, observing, raised her hands and applauded as if witnessing a performance by a stage star.
Sumi, also observing, had to admit that the man did have a most aggressive, quite masculine way about him. In fact, upon second thought, she could feel her central parts agree, for a few drops of fluid were now forming inside her vagina and there was a tingling sensation in her nipples that seemed to be arousing her sexual interest, if only by a small amount.
As for Mari, she could feel her clitoris twitching with desire the more she looked at the man. Though her breasts were about two sizes smaller than Sumi's, nevertheless there were tremblings there that indicated her first impressions of the man were indeed correct.
Now, Mari, noticing the parade continuing, and the man in question moving away from them, decided to take action of her own. Not exactly un-Japanese action, but rather a more direct form of Oriental subtlety, so to speak.
That is, she suddenly left Sumi and moved quickly toward the man's carriage, carefully thrusting herself through the crowd so that she was almost standing beside the open carriage door, where the man was reclining inside. As she did so she quickly opened the folds of her blue silk kimono so that no one but the gentleman in question could see the two-second glance at her breastworks.
He saw.
A smile that was almost a leer crossed his face like a flickering shadow. He licked his lips, thoughtfully, a crafty gleam forming in his super slanted eyes. Then he called, almost shouting, "Oh lovely lady, would you like to ride in the procession with me?"
Mari giggled, bowing quickly, then half-walking, half-running alongside the moving carriage. At the same time, she glanced back at Sumi, and, gesturing with her fingers, motioned her to join them. Not that this was surprising; Mari wanted not so much a private love festival with the man but also to show off in front of Sumi that she too could capture and hold a man's interest and attention, even if she didn't have the big breasts and trim legs of her girlfriend.
Sumi hesitated, wondering if this was the proper thing to do. Then, reasoning that Mari was not half as wild as she liked others to think-and further reasoning that nothing was liable to happen during such a procession and festival, where everyone was practically in sight of everyone else-she nodded in agreement and made her way through the crowd until she too was by the moving carriage.
The man gallantly grabbed hold of Mari's hands and hoisted her into the carriage, doing the same thing with Sumi. Sumi noticed that his fingernails were more than an inch long, almost like those of a samurai warrior of long ago.
He complimented both girls on their clothing (Sumi was dressed in a white kimono with red characters; most chaste-appearing), and arranged for each girl to sit on either side of him, Mari on his right, Sumi on his left.
The carriage continued in the procession and the man, whose name was Sato, told them that he was of royal blood and had his own estate on the outskirts of town. However, that was not where they were going, he hastened to assure them, bowing his hat rakishly so that his glossy black hair was revealed, from which the light glistened as if he had waxed, not oiled, his strands. His voice was deep, a sort of rusty baritone, but sensual enough. And Mari was doing something few Japanese do in public; she was resting one of her hands on Sato's thigh.
However, since Sato had conveniently drawn the curtains seconds after the girls had entered his carriage, one could not exactly say that Mari was revealing herself in public-could one?
Sumi noticed Mari's motions, but said nothing. She had noticed something else that perhaps Mari had missed. At least, on the left side of the man, poking through the folds of his costume, was something that was not quite a sword, not quite a club.
In short-Sato was getting an erection.
Sumi smiled the tiniest of smiles and she could feel her own nipples erecting at the sight of his masculine equipment making itself known. She placed her hand, most carefully, over her crotch; yet she was growing warmer and she knew this without even touching herself; she could feel the liquid beginning to rise inside her soft center. Her clitoris was tingling just the tiniest, but sufficiently enough for her to feel its comforting vibrations. There was something more European than Japanese about Sato, the aggressive demeanor, the take-charge attitude; she was beginning to feel as if she would, perhaps, surprisingly enough, like to become better acquainted with him.
In the meantime, Sato, noticing Mari's movements and correctly interpreting them, was wasting no time. He was patting the girl on top of her head-Mari's hair was clipped very close and she looked somewhat like an Oriental version of Liza Minnelli-and then moving his hand down the back of her head, his fingernails scraping at the skin on the nape of her neck. She felt his fingers and her skin began to feel prickly as she shuddered slightly beneath the folds of her kimono.
The next movement Sato's hand made was to crawl along Mari's neck and get around to her front so that his fingers could ever-so-carefully slip inside her front, around the folds of her kimono, and get hold of her left breast, the fingernails casually scraping the base of her breasts and his thumb quickly tweaking her nipple.
Mari started giggling and moved her own hands as if to remove his from her. However, what she did was to take hold of his hand with hers and try to manipulate his hand so that it could better get hold of her throbbing breast. She was feeling warm, and underneath her arms the perspiration was forming. And some other liquid was rapidly rising to a boil, inside her vagina.
This time his smile was a lustful leer as he chuckled confidently, increasing the pressure upon her appendage, feeling her almost starting to squirm underneath his firm, fondling touch.
Sumi could hardly help but notice this, and she watched out of the comer of her eye, being discreet about the matter. She was slowly licking her lips, her own sexual desires slowly arousing themselves as Sato and Mari went at it.
He noticed Sumi's lip-licking, and half-bowed his head in her direction as if inviting her to join in the festivities. To demonstrate, he reached his other hand over to her and took hold of hers. She felt the sculptured edges of his fingernails touching her palm; it was a direct, masculine touch, and she did not mind it at all. In fact, she squeezed him back, thus indicating she would consider herself open to further suggestions.
Mari, meanwhile, was busily making hand signals with her free hand.
She was twirling her fingers in the air, as if drawing invisible figures; more like making Japanese calligraphy, those most creative line drawings upon parchment where the artist must continually improvise a flowing, creative line or the abrupt stoppage of the brush will break through the delicate fiber of the parchment.
Yes, Mari was unmistakably drawing, upon the air itself, a most triangular configuration. In short, it seemed that she was hand-motioning her own vaginal shape.
Sato laughed, his voice growing huskier, more resonant. Sumi smiled, almost shrugging; that was much too direct a motion for her. At least, with a Japanese man, it was.
Since Sato got her message, he made a motion to move the position of his hand. She went along with that; she allowed him to move his hand further down the side of her dusky flesh, tickling her stomach briefly, until it came into contact with her clitoris and vagina, at which time she sat up very straight-as if being called to attention by a teacher in geisha class-and then proceeded to wriggle like a worm as his thumb caressed her clitoris and his forefinger penetrated her vaginal orifice.
Mari was both giggling and sighing as she felt the finger-and the elongated fingernail, itself causing all sorts of fantastic sensations along her moist, delicate membranes-moving its forceful way along her central cavity until it was all the way inside. His finger began to turn out some incredible configurations of its own, causing her to arch her back suddenly, spread out her legs and in general begin to behave like an animal being roasted on a spit.
While, with his other hand, Sato was starting to explore the world of Sumi.
His hand was fondling her trim ankles, moving slowly up and down from her knees to her ankles, pressing carefully along her calves and then moving to check out her juicy thighs. His fingernails were doing their insistent probing and her own skin was beginning to tingle, her own juices were starting to flow. Her clit staggered spasmodically into an erectile position, as did her nipples; slowly, by degrees, but getting there nevertheless.
Her face was becoming flushed, as if she were blushing. She really did not quite expect-nor, in reality, like it all that much-such direct, almost blunt actions from a Japanese aristocrat (of royal blood, remember) such as Sato. Would the Dane do this to her? In front of her girl-friend? In public, so to speak?
Well....
Perhaps he would, but he hadn't yet, and Sato was.
Almost instinctively, Sumi reached for Sato's penis.
She was surprised to find herself doing this; but she was becoming aroused, she was feeling like having sex, so it was, again, only natural that she should be moving so instinctively.
She located his organ.
It was quite erect, or so it seemed; he was not wearing shorts and she could feel that it was long and strong, its head even a little wet. It was, she thought, almost as powerful and pulsating as the Dane's; but, she thought again, not quite a real Copenhagen sausage, either.
As she began to fondle it, Sato began to squirm, feeling the delicate touch of Sumi's fingers rubbing back and forth, tickling his scrotum as well. As he moved, his finger bit even deeper into Mari's opening, and she too was squirming with delight.
As these affairs were taking place, the curtains on the carriage remained discreetly drawn and the driver concentrated on his own business of keeping the carriage moving through the crowded streets.
Sato was really getting more aroused, it seemed, than both of the girls. Great beads of perspiration were appearing on his forehead and dribbling down his skin. He could feel his rich, tailored garments clinging to his damp skin, and, with his free hand, he began to remove the upper portion of his robes so that shortly he was naked from the waist up, revealing a tough, slim chest that had apparently been well-shaved, for there was no trace of hair upon it.
Mari, giggling all the more, took a hand and swept aside the upper folds of her kimono so that she too was unclothed from the waist up, baring her small but still effective breastworks. Then she took her hand and began to draw some more configurations in the air; actually, only one, moving her fingers back and forth in the shape of a long, cylindrical sausage-shaped object, illustrating same with her forefinger by making short, stabbing motions.
Sato was laughing wildly now.
But he moved aggressively, perhaps too much so, for Sumi. Without waiting for her permission, he grabbed hold of her kimono and pulled loose the upper portion so that Sumi also could join the other two, nude from the upper half.
Sumi, however, did not exactly like that and was about ready to comment unfavorably when the man made a quick move of his head....
And buried it in Sumi's chest.
Still manipulating Mari's vagina with his hand, he got his nose right between Sumi's breasts and began sniffing at the cleft, rubbing his nose into Sumi's soft skin. She tried to push him away, but he was insistent; next, he began to nose around her breasts, sniffing at and rubbing against her nipples, moving his short, stabbing tongue along her breasts from the tip to the base, rubbing his closely shaved chin against them as well.
Well, Sumi was feeling like some action, but she just wasn't sure she liked such behavior from one of her countrymen. Yet, again, it was, on another level, turning her on, because her vital juices were now flowing freely. Before she could take proper precautions, she was dampening the lower part of her kimono with her fluids.
And, she was rarely, if ever, so hygienically careless as that.
Sato, noticing her fervent attempt to take care of that matter, laughed and bit her on her right breast.
She felt his teeth really digging into her flesh and let out a startled scream.
He moved his mouth against her lips, his tongue snaking out and slipping past her protesting teeth, entangling with her tongue and working out on her moist membranes. She could feel the pressure of his lips against hers, and suddenly she felt his hand move into her lower extremities, and his long-nailed finger was, all of a sudden....
Inside her.
She almost jumped; her back arched erect and she tried to sit up. She let go of his organ and tried to push him away. However, Mari, on the other side, seeing what was happening with her "competition," became, shall we say, a bit jealous.
She reached over and grabbed Sato's instrument, trying to pull him by it toward her. He yelled; she had grabbed him hard, and he had other things in mind. Actually, both of his hands were now occupied with finger-stimulating the vaginas of both women....
And, shall we say, that was his "perversion," that was what he had wanted to do in the first place, with both girls, when he invited them to join him.
Not surprisingly, considering the dexterity as well as unusual length of his fingernails, he was accomplishing it quite well. He had such a firm grip on-and in-both girls that, despite both of them now beating on his head and chest, angrily crying for him to cease and desist, he continued to keep his two hands firmly gripping both of them by their vital centers, and also to move his head around from one to the other, and continue to use his nose, tongue and teeth to sniff and rub around on their chests and breasts.
The carriage continued to make its way along the procession, through the crowd; no one outside knew (though the driver probably suspected) what was happening inside.
And Sato ... the sensual Sato-sare ... with Mari's hand still gripped around his over-stimulated sexual organ....
Ejaculated.
Right into Mari's clutching hand, he came, in a series of short spasmodic spurts, his life-giving fluid filling her hand and dripping into the folds of his costume. He moaned aloud, arching his back and flailing with his legs, feeling himself coming all over his carriage, burst by burst.
And ... he was not alone....
Mari was coming too.
His nimble finger (and nail) had done its job well; she was exploding into orgasm after orgasm, her clit vibrating as if struck by lightning, her vagina churning and pouring out her own life-giving fluids into the folds of her kimono as his finger kept ruthlessly pressing and manipulating her sensitive membranes. She kept holding onto his organ as he was pumping her orifice, and, in effect, the two of them were making love together, though from a distance.
While Sumi....
Due to the distraction of the other two, she finally managed to yank Sato's finger from her own center. And, feeling unsatisfied, decided that he would make it with her on her terms.
So, as Sato and Mari were making it, Sumi suddenly spread open her kimono and pressed her vagina into his face, saying (with unmistakable Western overtones in her voice):
"Eat me ... man....
CHAPTER SIX
The Dane and Sumi were having dinner at Rashomon, a restaurant on Kawaramachi Shi-joagaru, where the specialty of the house was the same as the specialty of Kyoto itself-tonkatsu, or breaded pork cutlet. Not the usual stiff-backed stuff one might find in the freezer of an American supermarket or sitting around on a butcher's shelf for six months. No; the Japanese version was actually a pork fillet, grilled rather than fried, using a very light batter and just a brief sprinkling of bread crumbs, and as flaky and digestible as, say, tempura or sushi.
The restaurant was low-ceilinged and quiet, all Japanese decor, folding screens and paintings of Nipponese outdoor scenes on the walls, low tables and a few private rooms where one (or two, preferably) could dine with the maximum of privacy and the minimum of outside interference.
And it was in that private room that the Dane and Sumi were taking their gourmet repast.
Since Sumi was very close to becoming a full-fledged geisha, she had considerably more freedom in the geisha house than her more recently arrived sisters. That is, she could get out (and away) more often, with fewer hassles, and so this week-night evening she was so doing with the Dane.
And, as perhaps a sort of celebration, she was wearing Western clothes. A black pants suit with white trim, which emphasized the delightful curvature of her lovely body. Her hair was loose, flowing freely over her shoulders. As for the Dane, he had on a pair of wine-colored bell bottoms, a double-breasted jacket and blue and red patterns and a white turtleneck shirt. Of course, he was puffing on his pipe, and the aromatic apple-flavored tobacco was, to Sumi, these days, as delightful an aroma or sensation as that of incense being burned in obeisance to the gods.
They had finished their seaweed salad and were now digging into the tonkatsu itself, in some ways a rare culinary treat for the Japanese because it was made with bread crumbs, and they did not normally eat bread at all.
"How do you like it?" she asked.
"Very good," he said, swallowing a bite. "I always thought we Danes raised the world's best pork, but I think this is equally as good as ours." He raised his glass of plum wine in salute, saying "Skoal to tonkatsu-and you, my dear."
Giggling just a bit, she echoed his toast, pronouncing the Danish word with an almost-Western inflection that aroused him. He had taken off his shoes and he reached forth under the table and rubbed his toes against her thighs. She giggled some more, feeling the caresses of his foot; she too had removed her shoes, and so she footsied him back, her toes touching his calves in response, giving him a nice, tingling feeling, too.
He speared a piece of pork from his plate and passed it over to her. She shook her head; when he asked why the negative response, she pointed at the unused chopsticks lying beside his plate (for he had been using the Western utensils the management always provided for those of that geographical persuasion).
He laughed, saying, "Yes, I suppose it would help if I was more authentically Japanese, especially in this place. Yes, you are quite right, I shall use the chopsticks from now on."
He dropped the fork, picked up the chopsticks and got hold of that same piece of pork and passed it over to her. She leaned forward slightly, opened her dainty mouth and took the morsel from him. Then she picked up a piece from her own plate, with her own chopsticks, and passed it over to him. He did the same as she had done.
"Arigato," he said, thanking her in Japanese.
In fact, they were mostly speaking in Japanese anyway, for he was moderately familiar with the language and could make at least the most basic conversation. She was, naturally, helping him along as well, while he in return was teaching her as much English as she could absorb. He had not passed on to her more than a few words of his native language, Danish, for, as he once told her, "We Danes speak with a catch in our throat and I do not want you to catch that particular disease just yet."
She had wondered what he meant, until he had reeled off several sentences in that language. Then she had understood, for the language was all glottal stops and consonants, and difficult enough for a Dane to learn, much less anyone else.
She really liked the Dane.
It was probably his consummate cool, his droll manner and generally likeable personality that was doing it. Plus, of course, his sophistication and the fact that he was so well-traveled-as well as her partially Western heritage itself, pulling her toward him.
She would treat him now, since he had been treating her.
She took her chopsticks and slipped them below the table, with her other hand opening her pants. Into her sweet cunt went the edges of the chopsticks; she held them inside herself for several seconds, feeling them brushing against her moist membranes. Her clit began to tremble and her breasts began rising and falling in their usual sensual manner as she probed inside herself with the ivory chopsticks, feeling her own liquid beginning to flow from her careful exertions.
Then she pulled them out and passed them to him saying, "Would you like a taste of dessert?"
He chuckled, comprehending exactly what she had been doing. He reached over to taste the tips of the chopsticks....
When the waitress unobtrusively entered, inquiring, "Would you like dessert now, please?"
Sumi almost blushed, but the Dane, keeping his consummate cool, merely swiveled his head in her direction, said, "No thank you, we are quite satisfied now."
At least, as far as restaurant food was concerned.
She withdrew as silently as she had entered; now he stuck out his tongue, tasting the edges of the chopsticks, his tongue licking her pussy juice off them until they were dry.
Licking his lips, he commented, "Not bad, but I think a touch of soy sauce would add much to the flavor, if you know what I mean."
She smiled, saying, "We shall soon see, perhaps," as she sipped some more plum wine, feeling a sweetness flowing down her throat. But not one tenth as sweet as the feeling forming inside her cunt, at this moment.
Shortly, they were finished. He paid the check, left a tip and prepared to depart. On their way out they made the traditional bows, about halfway to the waist, to the staff; the waitresses, matre d'ho-tel, manager, and so forth. Smiles and pleasantries were exchanged and much good feelings were communicated before they left.
It was such a pleasant, warm night that they decided to walk to his ryokan, the Maruyama-Gyoen. He was still staying there; he liked the place so much that he had not really started looking for an apartment yet. But he would eventually move, for he was now permanently assigned to Kyoto, and much as he enjoyed being waited on and having his every need catered to by the staff, still there was nothing like one's own apartment, with maximum privacy of movement and activity. Though the Japanese, being highly motivated themselves by privacy, understood his needs in that respect and did not bother him at all when he wished to be alone.
They walked slowly, taking their time. He liked the way her body seemed to float rather than walk along the streets. Even her breasts did not bounce and she seemed more of a unity than most women he had known.
Finally they reached the ryokan, and he never failed to marvel at its fantastic, almost overly gaudy lobby which was framed by purple sliding doors and filled with such extravaganzas as a colored perfumed fountain and a batch of singing birds. The effect was like entering a circus playground, perhaps; but, the Japanese do these things with taste, so the decor, while slightly wild, was not in the least offensive.
The staff pretty well knew the Dane by now, and they smiled and bowed as he made his way to his room. In fact, they also pretty well knew Sumi by now, too; but, being polite and courteous, they kept their mouths shut while leaving their eyes open. To them, as to most Japanese, sex was but one of many "good feelings," and who a man slept with was his own business (and hers, too).
They entered his room and he closed the sliding door. This time he used his hotplate to warm some sake, pouring it into the traditional flask and serving her with the traditional flat cups it is drunk from.
But first he removed his jacket, and then his shirt, explaining that he wanted to get comfortable. She nodded in agreement; and, not surprisingly, she also took off her own top part of her pants suit so that she too could "get comfortable." In the flickering candlelight that he had set up her elongated breasts seemed to glow like gold. He really loved those subtle skin tones of hers, and of course he knew of her mixed ancestral background by now.
"Thank you," she said as he served her the sake. She sipped it very briefly, looking him right in the eyes as she did so. He returned her gaze, feeling something stirring front and center as he did so. He knew what it was, and so did she.
And that reminded him of something he wanted to do.
"I want to show you something," he said, turning away and rummaging in the closet. "I had it adapted from one of our electronic devices. I think you might find it interesting."
She sipped more sake, watching him intently as he continued his search. Finally he pulled out a rectangular box, about half the size of a shoe box, and removed the lid, revealing....
A dildo.
"Oh," she said as he showed it to her. It was made of plastic, of course, but so naturally created that it looked like a genuine cock, as if it had been ripped directly from some well-endowed man's crotch. The foreskin even looked authentic-it could be pulled back-and the tip was like a baby's fist, tough and elongated. And, in addition, inside the box was also something that looked like a control switch, with dials and buttons attached, about the size of a man's palm.
"What is that?" she asked.
"Why, that is the control panel. This thing does not move by itself, you know." He grinned. "It must be persuaded ... electronically." He reached forward, tweaking her nipples, which were beginning to harden as much as his prick, and added, "As the woman who is to receive it must also be persuaded ... physically."
She hesitated, saying, "Well, I do not know ... ". "Come, come, you Japanese are more into electronics and miniaturization than all of the Western countries combined. And, besides...." He grinned and squeezed her breast with a firm, loving grip. " ... it is, after all ... made in Japan."
His appeal to the basic Japanese chauvinism, if not actual xenophobia, struck home.
"Well ... maybe ... ".
"Let me show you how it works."
He pressed a button and the device actually began to crawl along the tatami mats, like a snake searching some warm hole to crawl into. Not in a straight line, but moving and buckling, curving and crawling; like, one might say, a guided muscle.
"Oh, yes ... before I forget ... ".
The Dane stood up to pull off his pants and shorts-he had earlier removed his shoes and socks-so that he was completely naked. He gestured at his prick, which by now was almost fully erect; then he pointed at the dildo, which was now about halfway between them, and again gestured at his prick.
Her eyes grew saucer-wide as she also opened her mouth into an "O" of amazement.
She got the message.
The electronic dildo was modeled exactly after the Dane's dick; that is, it was an exact duplicate of his prick.
He pressed another button.
The dildo began to move faster, as if accelerating speed. Closer and closer it crawled to Sumi, who stared at it in total fascination now, feeling her own sexual desires becoming more strongly aroused. She could feel her clit twinging in erectile motions, her nipples becoming taut and her juices beginning to flow freely. Her breathing was also increasing in tempo and a fine patina of perspiration was forming on her golden flesh.
"Would you like to kiss it?" he asked as it began to crawl up her thighs.
She nodded almost absentmindedly as the thing continued its journey up her side. She could feel its touch, and it was amazing; just like flesh against flesh. Ah, these clever Japanese; what will they think of next?
The Dane thoughtfully sipped his sake, feeling the warm liquid flowing down his throat.
He watched the dildo reach her breasts.
He pressed another button; it began to crawl over her tits like a question mark, curling around her boobs and making her feel like fucking. Its warm, crawling presence seemed so strange, yet so familiar. Her eyes were fascinated by it, focused as if hypnotized; she was really, at the same time, admiring the Dane's inventiveness as well. He was, in some ways, quite Japanese, quite subtly Oriental.
She reached for the dildo, touching it, touching her breasts; her other hand went to her waist, fondling her clit, getting a few of her fingers wet inside her slit. She was really feeling erotic, as well as autoerotic, now, and she was fondling herself, turning herself on as much as the dildo was.
The Dane smiled, digging her responsiveness. His balls tugged at the confines of his scrotum, his prick elongated so strongly that its foreskin was now pulled all the way back. He felt that it was time to get himself some satisfaction.
In fact, he was getting so ready for sex that he had quite forgotten about his pipe, which was now resting in the ashtray, burnt out for the moment.
Anyway, he finished off his sake and moved closer to Sumi. The dildo was now around her neck, almost like a hangman's noose, but loose and easy, and its tip was directly opposite her lips. She was licking it, her tongue darting out and touching its tip, then smoothing its way along the glans and foreskin.
He reached her and whispered something into her ear. In response, she began to recline, lowering her beautiful body onto the tatami mats until she was lying prone on her back. She was now sucking the dildo, having it halfway inside her mouth, her thick lips clamped firmly upon it, her tongue diddling its tip, her moist mouth membranes holding it firmly. He could hear the sensual, sucking sounds from her throat, her nostrils twitching as she sucked slowly away.
Kneeling over her crotch, he decided to do some licking and sucking of his own.
He snaked out his tongue, connecting with her clit, and she felt the smooth vibrations his tongue was providing; it made her shiver all over, even though she was now perspiring. She shuddered, feeling his tongue move away and touch her pussy lips. Then he slipped it inside and began to eat her.
She twisted and trembled, but kept the dildo inside her own mouth as his lips connected with her lower lips and he began to suck her sweet juice into his mouth and down his throat He was sweating too, but it didn't bother him, as his blond hairs tickled her pudendum and his sucking mouth and striking tongue kept turning her on more and more with each passing second.
Finally, he was finished.
Slowly he withdrew, licking off her pussy lips, then licking the lovely liquid off his own lips. He could feel her shuddering even more and he could tell her orgasm was just about ready to begin. Yet he wanted to fuck her differently this time, and with the extra added attraction of the electronic dildo.
He took hold of the control panel again-he was now squatting beside her-and the dildo began to remove itself from her mouth. She gasped, as if sorry to see it go; she reached for it, but he pressed another button and it accelerated its speed again, crawling over her body until it reached her crotch.
"All the way in with Old Faithful now," he said, and, pressing still another button, he watched the dildo squeeze its way inside, penetrate her pussy lips like a real prick.
Then he snapped his fingers; why was he calling the artificial phallus by his pet name for his own prick? Old Faithful indeed! He would have to make sure his real cock got taken care of too.
Sumi was squirming now as much as the dildo, thrashing about, twisting her legs into cantilevered positions and swinging her arms. Her breasts were bouncing like buoys on the sea, her hair splashing all over her shoulders and breasts. She reached for the dildo, now rapidly disappearing inside her churning cunt, and got at least two fingers of one hand on the end of it so that she could take hold of it, feel it while it was doing its sexual thing.
In the meantime, the Dane changed positions and postured himself so that he was now sitting astride her chest-though not with his full weight on her; he was balanced more on his own haunches and legs than her torso-and his ass was rubbing her tits. He loved the tingling feeling her nipples were giving him, rubbing against his buttocks. He took his erect instrument and rubbed it against her nose and along her cheeks before letting it come into contact with her luscious lips.
Then her tongue came out and started to lick it, moving smoothly along the entire length. He shuddered deliciously at the touch of her talented tongue, feeling like exploding, holding back until it was time. Her own cunt was now letting loose its juice as she went into an extreme orgasm caused by the driving dildo inside her cunt.
From the way her haunches were hammering against the tatami mats, he could tell that the dildo was really doing its job, and beautifully so.
Now....
His cock was inside her mouth, her lips clamped tightly around it, his balls balanced against her chin, her mouth membranes sucking it almost all the way down her throat. She felt its expanding size, its elongated shape, and she thrust her head forward, using every ounce of strength in her neck and throat muscles to get his life-giving juice inside her mouth.
He was ready to explode, but he was trying to figure out her orgasmic stimulations down below, to coordinate their mutual ecstasies, and it was hard when it was the dildo, not his dick, inside her. Nevertheless, he figured the right moment to catch her on an upcoming orgasm....
And, he came.
Back and forth, almost losing his balance, he fired off a long, strong round of sperm, feeling her mouth gulping down every drop as fast as he could supply it. Her body rhythms were perfectly coordinated with his, and he was moaning and sighing every bit as much as she, while she felt two cocks-two for the price of one-penetrating her two favorite openings, her own cream flowing freely in her cunt as his sperm filled her mouth to overflowing.
Double or nothing? Just double pleasure, period.
CHAPTER SEVEN
At Madame Suzy's geisha establishment there was an ornate Japanese bath that filled a room almost as large as a Western living room. The bath itself was sculpted from Japanese marble, with depictions of long-departed gods and goddesses from Shinto scenes (Shinto, the state religion, a naturalistic sort of religious philosophy; hence, the adornment of the bathtub) and other exquisite accessories in a similar vein.
As part of their geisha training, the maikos had to learn how to bathe themselves properly. For, as Madame Suzy said, "As long as our prime purpose is to make men happy, we should realize that they want us to look clean and smell fresh. And there is no better way to accomplish this than by learning the proper bathing ritual, so that we may make our own lives as happy as we are trying to make theirs."
What she really meant, of course, was that the sweeter the geisha, the greater the financial gain. Or, in other words, she who keeps clean cleans up.
Now, at this moment, all of the dozen or so maikos were in the bath with Madame Suzy.
No lesbian scene, this; merely that Suzy was demonstrating how to do it right. How to get clean and stay clean. Clean with a capital C-as in cash.
And, as in cunt.
Madame Suzy, her plumpness visible to all concerned (but she was not ashamed of same, either), her pendulous breasts slightly sagging, her extra folds of fat showing around her stomach and buttocks, nevertheless continued her demonstration of how to keep things clean. She was standing at the foot of the tub, from time to time dipping her toes into the steaming hot water, while the girls crowded around that part of the tub to observe her. Sumi was naturally among them, and she was reclining in the water right at the edge, quite close to her teacher, trying to learn every word uttered so that she could become that much better a geisha and a woman-especially where the Dane was concerned.
But the Dane was not around.
Only Madame Suzy and her maikos.
Madame Suzy, gesticulating profusely to better attract (and hold) the attention of her charges, pointed to her bulging breasts and said, "Now, maikos, what is the best way to clean your breasts, so that a man will become enamored of them?"
Sumi, the most Westernized of them all, shyly suggested, "With a washcloth?"
The Madame shook her head sadly; Sumi was one of her favorites and she hated to hear the young girl give the incorrect response.
She called on Sumi's friend Mari, who was equally out of line when she said, "Soap them for at least five minutes?"
Shaking her head again, the Madame glanced around the group of girls, searching for at least one who would give her the correct reply. A very shy girl, Katsuzuko, the youngest in the group-shy but pretty, demure but curvaceous-was finally per suaded to say a few words, namely, "I believe we must use our hands in some way, Madame Suzy, is that not correct?"
"Not completely correct," Madame Suzy said.
Silence for several seconds while she waited for the answer. Which did not come, so she had to supply it herself.
"Anata no shoy."
Translated: your hands.
And, to drive home the point, she began to demonstrate.
"Girls," she said as she began to move her hands over and around her breasts, her fingers fondling her nipples and massaging her base, "there is an oil secretion in the palms of your hands, you know that. Now, when you are excited by the presence of a man, this secretion will come forth, and you may use it as cleaning oil to clean your breasts with. Provided, of course, you use the correct hand gestures and movements."
As the Madame was surely doing.
For, as her thumbs probed into her yielding flesh, she could feel her breasts growing, her nipples becoming more taut and tense. Her clitoris was beginning to become erectile and she could even feel a few drops of her liquid forming inside her vaginal orifice. She was beginning to hear her breathing change tempo and her skin was tingling as if she had just applied cologne to its soft surface.
In fact, her entire body was beginning to tremble, and some of her students were looking at her strangely as she continued to make those hand and finger motions, feeling herself up, so to speak, autoerotically arousing her previously dormant passions.
Mari whispered into Sumi's ear, "If Madame Suzy keeps this up we shall have to send for a man to satisfy her, or she will keep us here all day doing these things."
Sumi nodded, absentmindedly placing her own hand, her left one, over her right breast. She was surprised to feel her own nipple growing taut; she had not noticed that before. She could also feel an expansion of her breast and she began to probe at the base with her thumb, moving it around in a full circle, feeling the tingles of a pleasant feeling forming on the outer layers of her skin.
Madame Suzy nodded in Sumi's direction, then said to the rest of the girls, "Do you see? Sumi is doing it the way I have shown you. Now, I would like all of you girls to try these movements, exactly as Sumi and I are doing." She paused, then underlined, "Now."
Within seconds every maiko was massaging her breasts, sighing and humming, feeling the wonderful stimulation of their own sex, feeling those telltale tingles forming on their skins. Madame Suzy, of course, continued to do the same; she was becoming, with each passing moment, more absorbed in her own sexual stimulation than in really teaching her charges anything except how to turn themselves on minus a man.
There was now a considerable thrashing of water as the girls twisted and turned, feeling the sexual moods arising inside themselves.
And, naturally, the next step was....
For one girl to touch another.
As Mari did to Katsuzuko.
While continuing to massage her own right breast with her right hand, Mari suddenly reached for the shy girl with her left hand, and connected with the girl's right breast. It was a small but perfectly formed breast, and the second Mari touched it she could feel a response from the younger girl. But Katsuzuko's eyes opened in shocked surprise, and she started to protest. However, Mari had a good grip on her and was finger-fondling her so expertly that the younger girl's expression soon changed into a more blissful repose than previously.
Madame Suzy should have noticed this, but she was so involved with her own convolutions that she did not.
Mari moved in closer, so that her thighs were nudging those of the younger girl. Katsuzuko shuddered, trying to back away; but it was so crowded in that area of the bathtub that she bumped into another girl as she did so, and this girl bumped her back, so that she was up against Mari again, whether she liked it or not.
And Mari was doing her best to make sure that Katsuzuko liked it.
Mari's thumb was tweaking the younger girl's nipple, and the younger girl was feeling some strange sensations arising within her. She was even feeling some vibrations from her vagina, which was beginning to let loose some of her own liquid, and her clitoris was starting to tremble with ecstasy.
She was a virgin.
All apprentice geishas are supposed to be virgins; at least, in theory. In practice, it was probably closer to 10% than 100%, and both Mari and Sumi were in that 90% bracket who were not.
Some of the other girls, also fondling their own breasts, had noticed what Mari was doing with Katsuzuko, and were looking at both of them with slightly upraised eyebrows, their sensual slanted eyes narrowing in perhaps disapproval, perhaps concern. At any rate, they had never seen anything like that before. Maybe, in the army, men did such things when they had no women available. But ... here in Kyoto ... with plenty of men just down the street....
Unbelievable!
"Do you like it?" Mari leaned close and whispered into Katsuzuko's ear. Not that Mari was bisexual or anything like that; merely that she was of a mischievous nature and enjoyed playing games, including those of sexual orientation. Fondling another girl's breast was no big deal-just fun where fun could be had, because Madame Suzy could be strict during school hours, so why not take advantage of whatever pleasure might occur during the teaching time, right?
Katsuzuko was trembling from the top of her lovely black hair to the toes of her tiny feet. She had never felt any such sensations, even when her mother and father had put her to bed in her younger days. Then, they had fondled her considerably, as parents often did; but nothing like this "girl-to-girl" exchange that was now happening between her and Mari.
Some of the other girls, still observing, still noticing that Madame Suzy had not yet called down any wrath of the gods (and goddesses) upon Mari, began to wonder if what she was doing to Katsuzuko might be equally pleasurable for themselves as well.
So....
They started pairing off, each touching the other's breast. Only, they were going one step beyond; that is, instead of one hand on their own and the other hand on their partner's, they each grabbed hold of each other's frontal appendages with both hands.
All, that is, except Sumi.
Not that she was a prude, or anything like that; far from it. It was just that there were an odd number of girls in the bath, and, by sheer luck (or accident), the other girls had paired off without her. Besides, she was closest to Mari of all of them, and Mari was, obviously, otherwise occupied at the moment.
Now....
Madame Suzy, working herself into a fantasy of sexual stimulation, was still finger-fondling herself, but for some reason she was not coming. Even though she could feel her liquid flowing inside her, it was remaining inside and not being released to give her relief.
And, finally, feeling her ecstasies receding, she glanced, at long last, around the bathing room, and suddenly noticed....
"Girls! Did I allow you to do such things as those you are now doing to each other?"
Most of the girls did not reply, since they were too involved with each other to pay the Madame much attention. Except for Sumi, who was now standing alone by the edge of the bath while the other girls were fondling each other and trashing in the steaming water, perhaps adding several degrees to its heat by their own physical exertions.
Madame Suzy raised her voice, shouting for her charges to knock it off.
For the first time in all her years of geisha instruction, she was not obeyed.
Frustrated, she turned on Sumi, who was innocently placing both of her hands over her breasts, as if to make up for the lack of a partner. Not that she was really all that autoerotic; it was just that the sight of all of her girlfriends enjoying them selves made her feel almost unwanted, so that she was making do with what she had by herself.
"Well, if no one else will listen, I am sure Sumi will."
Sumi bowed, still manipulating her nipples, feeling those good vibrations beginning inside her again.
Speaking loudly enough for an army to take notice, Madame Suzy said, "Now, girls...." even though she was actually only being heard by Sumi, " ... I shall demonstrate how another most important part of our bodies is to be cleaned. Now, please pay strict attention, for I shall not repeat myself."
And, taking her right hand away from her breast, she reached down and placed her forefinger at the entrance to her vagina.
Rubbing against the opening lips, her finger began to slide inside; at the same time, she was rubbing her thumb against her clit. The latter was not exactly a cleansing action, but it certainly did not hurt the good feeling she was getting, and therefore it was in line with what else she was doing.
Sumi watched, fascinated; she had never seen Madame Suzy go so far in front of her girls. Of course, they had often bathed-and even studied-in the nude on previous occasions. But ... doing what they were now doing ... what she was now doing ... in front of everyone? Unheard of!
Still....
Sumi, feeling almost depressed by her induced loneliness, decided that the Dane would approve of her trying to make herself happy under such a situation. Since she could not leave without "losing face" in front of both Madame Suzy and the rest of the girls, Sumi, as the Madame was doing, took her hand and began to play with her clitoris and her vagina, just as Madame Suzy was doing.
First she took hold of her trembling little clitoris between thumb and forefinger and began to squeeze it like a nipple. She kept this up for several minutes, feeling her body temperature becoming hotter by the second, almost blending into the extreme heat of the water in the tub.
Then she began to explore her sweet orifice with her thumb, while at the same time massaging her clitoris with her knuckle. Her thumb pressed open the lips of her vagina like a flower being pressed open in a book, and she could feel her thumb penetrating a few inches inside, touching her moist, sensitive membranes.
She began to shiver despite the high temperature of the water. She was beginning to enjoy playing with herself; strange, she thought, and yet not so strange, for what is best for me is what I can do best for myself, is it not?
Not exactly Confucian philosophy.
But then, Confucius was Chinese, not Japanese.
She kept up her manipulations, feeling her body beginning to experience a profound ecstasy, one she had never experienced before. Her skin felt as if it was on fire; her mouth began to feel dry; she was shaking her head and blinking her eyes; her breasts were bobbing up and down, her torso twisting as if she was dancing at the Imperial Palace in front of the Royal Family. Which, of course, she was not.
However, judging by Madame Suzy's observations, Sumi was indeed putting on quite a fine performance.
The Madame, who had taken a momentary break from her own orgasmic delights to see how her charges were coming along-and noticing that Mari and Katsuzuko were really locked in one fine embrace, as were all of the other young maikos except Sumi-also could not help but observe that Sumi was really going at it quite nicely by herself.
However, that was not exactly what Madame Suzy had in mind.
For her, all of her girls should be treated equally. And, since Sumi apparently had, for the moment, no partner as such ... why then, the Madame must supply her with one so that things could indeed be equalized.
And the only logical solution, as far as this sophisticated Japanese lady was concerned, was for Madame Suzy herself to take the appropriate action.
That is....
For the Madame to make it with Sumi....
By herself.
So....
Having made up her mind, Madame Suzy simply jumped into the water, splashing everyone within range, and with great strides she was soon standing right next to Sumi, who was now manipulating herself with her forefinger, at the same time massaging her clitoris with her thumb. Her other hand was drawing patterns across her bounteous breasts, fondling her nipples and pinching at her breasts from the base to tip.
Madame Suzy came straight up to Sumi and began to rub her own breasts against the girl's body. Sumi, suddenly paying attention to her teacher-despite her autoerotic self-absorption in herself-realized what the Madame had in mind.
Which was not necessarily the same as what Sumi had in mind, either.
However....
Madame Suzy was, in effect, the boss. And, being the boss, she did have the right to give the orders in her own geisha house, right?
Right!
The Madame took Sumi's hand away from her front and instead began to rub her own breasts against Sumi's nipple, her torso also coming into contact with other parts of Sumi's lovely young body. At the same time, the Madame took hold of her young Maiko's hand and firmly removed it from her center.
Now....
Madame Suzy began to rub her vaginal parts against those of Sumi, and at the same time took hold of her and placed her arms around her shoulders, drawing her even closer to her. She also began to kiss her young charge around the ears and eyes, the nose and mouth, her tongue lapping happily away, her lips sucking hard whenever she came into contact with Sumi's soft skin.
Sumi shuddered; she was not really liking this, not the way things were going. She did not feel quite right about these activities; yet, she would lose face if she tried to obviously escape Madame Suzy's tightening grip on her young body.
What to do?
Well, what else could she do ... except to, as good Japanese should, obey her elders?
So....
Sumi, feeling her life-giving liquid beginning to flow inside her, from the friction and vibration of Suzy's rubbing against her, began to rub back, to move her crotch and her breasts against those of her teacher.
Madame Suzy began to tremble in ecstasy, feeling the excellent response from her pupil. She start ed kissing her on the mouth, slamming her tongue past the young girl's teeth, slurping strongly inside her mouth. Sumi's breathing was really going strong and her body was shuddering from head to foot with this strange new experience that she was, momentarily, beginning to enjoy more than she might have originally thought.
While all around them other girls, seeing and emulating their geisha mistress, were also doing the same thing-rubbing their firm, supple young bodies against each other, feeling their fine young breasts touching, their vital center parts becoming more aroused until....
They were coming.
All of them.
Especially Mari and Katsuzuko, who were no longer standing up, but lying halfway into the water, their backs braced against the edge of the tub, really having a fantastic multiple orgasm by themselves, bodies intertwined, lips upon lips and mouth upon mouth, tongues tangling with each other....
While Madame Suzy was pouring forth her own life-giving juices now, the waters becoming satiated with female ovum, all of those fine female bodies rubbing and pressing and embracing and churning round and round in the still-steaming Japanese bath water....
And Sumi, her own orgasmic explosions now wracking her own body, just kept on doing it, too.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Oh ... oh, my beautiful Dane ... what are you doing to me...."
They were in the Dane's ryokan room and she was lying flat on the futon mattress, almost spread-eagled, her lovely brown body completely unclothed and writhing with sexual excitement. He was squatting beside her, his semi-erect prick rubbing against her side, caressing one of her lovely buttocks as he bent over her and sprinkled her breasts and her chest with some dark brown liquid.
She shuddered as the drops of liquid touched her sensitive skin. It was as if he were tenderizing a piece of meat for cooking, the way he was dousing her with this liquid. Almost like putting steak sauce on freshly cooked food.
"I just want to taste you with a different flavor," he said laconically as he continued to sprinkle her with....
Soy sauce?
No, that would be Chinese; inappropriate here.
What was it?
Why, terlyaki sauce, of course.
To the Japanese, one of their greatest gourmet delicacies is beef or chicken terlyaki, the meat cooked in a pungent sauce that is more potent, flavorfully speaking, than soy could ever be. So, since the Dane was getting ready to, shall we say, do a bit of eating with his lady, what could be more correct than slipping some terlyaki sauce to her, as well as eight inches of solid Copenhagen cock?
Plus, intermingled with the aroma of the Dane's tobacco-he was also puffing his pipe at the same time-one would savor a real taste treat.
He finished sprinkling the sauce on Sumi.
He placed the bottle beside her and took his pipe from his mouth, holding it off to one side as he bent over her and began to lick the sauce from her breasts.
She felt those delicious sexual shivers begin all over her tactile body and she began to move her limbs as if stretching awake from a long sleep. As he was licking her breast, he placed his free hand over her cunt, his fingers fondling her smooth pubic hairs, his thumb just touching her clit, which was as stiff as a stick. She could feel her erectile organ doing its reactive job as more sexual stimulation roared throughout her bloodstream like a raging river in a spring flood.
His tongue was licking easily at her nipples, then moving along the rest of her responsive boobs as he continued to lick and suck at her voluptuous body. His lips made contact with about half of her right breast, and he began to draw it inside his mouth, his teeth just barely touching her skin, his tongue licking at her nipple, his lips closed firmly around her tit. She had her arms around his neck and her fingers were running through his thick blond hair, massaging his scalp as only a nubile, well-trained Japanese girl could. While, at the same time, his beard and mustache were, in effect, tickling her skin so much that she was half-laughing as she felt him fondling her.
Finishing with her right breast, he moved over to her left while she continued playing with his hair and began to move her head slightly so that her mouth was close to the nape of his neck. She began to lick at his neck, then to make some dainty love bites thereon; he felt her, and it made him feel good all the way down to his cock, which was beginning to expand more and more with each passing second.
Now, he was also still playing with her clit, but by this time had gotten his forefinger inside her snatch, feeling the increasing moistness of her membranes, feeling them responding to his tender touch. He was finger-fucking her most carefully, most efficiently, as his thumb also diddled her clit, causing those sexual shock waves to really roar throughout her nervous system, her body vibrating like a tuning fork with exactly the correct melodic tones being played upon it.
He was licking and sucking her left breast now, his teeth this time rimming her tit with gentle bites. He could be, in his own Western way, almost as subtle as this Oriental pussycat he was playing with. His three years in Japan had helped, of course; but, as any woman knows, the best male lovers are those who are firm and strong in their dealings but soft and gentle in their touch.
She was starting to come now, her cunt churning with the flow of vital fluids, and he could feel with his finger that she was just about ready for some more direct action.
So he removed his finger from her cunt.
And he stopped sucking her breast.
He moved his head and torso away from her and again picked up the bottle of terlyaki sauce. This time he sprinkled his cock and balls with the stuff, then poured the rest right into her pussy.
She shuddered as she felt the liquid entering her cunt; for he was pushing the neck of the bottle right inside her slit, and it truly felt to her as if she were being fucked by a glass cock.
When he had finished, he removed the bottle and tossed it aside. Then he assumed the 69 position with her; she was not too surprised, for he often liked to start a sexual liaison with that particular position, then move on to the more exciting situation of cock to cunt.
But this time it was mouth to cock and mouth to cunt.
As he straddled her, she could feel the tip of his prick brushing her lips. She stuck out her tongue and tasted the terlyaki sauce; it was such a pungent aroma, she gurgled with delight. Especially since he had a few drops of semen right on the end of his dick, and she was able to sample and savor both flavors at the same time.
His own tongue glanced against her clit and he felt her tremble anew as he began to use his tongue against her pussy lips, pushing them aside to get his tongue inside. He tasted the terlyaki sauce, too, intermingled with her female fluids, and it was as heady as knocking off an entire bottle of Scotch or schnapps. He gulped greedily, his lips clamped against hers, licking and sucking her juices into his mouth, swallowing in great savage bursts of neck-muscle action, feeling the thick liquid swilling down his throat.
He could also feel his dick getting big and fat, his balls pulsating inside their scrotum as if they wanted to break loose. Her lips and tongue, her licking and sucking, were taking care of business at the other end quite nicely.
His whiskers were really tickling her clit, because she was really feeling hairy about the whole thing, her lovely young body now shuddering as she felt his talented tongue beginning to release her juices. He could feel it too, and he began to gulp with more excitement, more effort; he could also feel his balls about ready to burst, and her sucking, slurping mouth trying to take all of him right down her throat.
He had his hands in her soft ass, his fingernails digging into her flesh, and she was doing the same thing with her hands around his ass, fondling rather than scraping his skin with her own nails.
She came first.
She erupted like Mount Fuji would have, if it had not been so many centuries dormant, as her lovely liquid began to pour out of her pussy and into his mouth. He gulped her stuff down, breathing hard, watching his rhythms so as not to gag. As fast as she could get the liquid flowing, he was keeping up with her, swallowing like a man trying to win a chug-a-lug contest, tasting her innermost flavors, her most intimate self.
He held back, waiting for her orgasm to crest, as he could almost hear her, inside his head, crying out for him to join her in sexual union; in short, to come.
Not yet, his head told him; not just yet.
Her taut nipples were rubbing against his waist as she implored him to get with it. But, being the super-cool Copenhagener that he was, he waited until she was right at the crest of a raging, exploding orgasm....
And then....
He came.
She felt him blast off inside her, white-hot heat like a rocket taking off to the moon. His cock buckled and jolted her, its semen splashing out in a savage, steady stream, slamming against her membranes and filling her mouth full to overflowing. She gulped first, then started coughing as her mouthful of hot come was almost choking her. Then she quickly recovered herself and began to slurp down the hot, sticky joy juice that his cock was pouring into her throat. Her throat muscles expanded and contracted as he kept right on coming, and she was swallowing as fast-and as rhythmically, too-as she could.
They both continued eating each other's privates until both had exhausted themselves in giving out of their life-loving juices.
Slowly their mouths moved away from each other, there tongues licking and tasting and lapping up the residue of their respective orgasms; they completed their coupling and relaxed next to each other. She switched herself around without him even asking her-again, that Japanese characteristic of anticipating someone else's needs and satisfying them without being asked-and started to lick his lips, her tongue snaking out and slurping along his come-stained lips.
In response, his own tongue went into action and he slowly forced hers back and got his inside her mouth.
Once inside, he began to French her, reaming her mouth, feeling her tongue gracefully yielding and making room for his. She gave him just a touch of teeth as he did so, but their lips then closed over each others, and her hands were rubbing his back, as his were massaging her ass.
After a few more minutes they broke their kissing and moved away from each other. They both got up and put on their bathrobes, to take a walk down the hall for a shower and a quick dip in the Japanese bath that was provided for the guests.
No one was in the shower, so they had the place to themselves. They let the warm water trickle off their skins, and stayed body-rubbing close to each other while so doing.
After each had soaped the other down and had let the water wash the soapsuds away, they turned the temperature to cool, then let the cool water close their pores.
Next, they did some romping in the bath itself, enjoying the steaming fumes of the superheated water for about fifteen or twenty minutes. Touching each other, splashing a little water around; but no sex for the moment. Not that they wouldn't indulge later; but, for now, it was relax, be warmed by the water, let the muscles recover for another round.
The Dane was really enjoying such logical, to his mind, Japanese customs as the bath. For, in the Japanese theory (and reality) of bathing, a shower is simply to clean off the body itself, but is not sufficient to really relax a person. What is needed, insist the Japanese, is a long, relaxing soak in the superheated water of the Japanese bath. Then the muscles are truly relaxed, one's cares are completely driven away and one can then rinse off in a cool shower, if one wishes-again, for the purpose of closing the pores-and then one can dress and feel completely recovered and revitalized, and ready for another go-around at whatever one wishes to do.
So the Dane and Sumi cooled off after the bath with a quick shower, then donned their bathrobes and returned to his room. Her bathrobe was almost floor length, a rich earth-brown color with white Japanese characters all over it. It was an unusual color, he thought, for a girl with such skin tones as hers. However, the more she wore it, the more right it seemed, for her skin and the bathrobe's color did blend better than he might have originally thought.
"What do those characters say?" he asked her, realizing that he had seen her in this particular robe many times, and since he could not read Japanese-only speak it from the written alphabet that he had learned, called roma-ji-he had always been curious whether those characters on her robe had any particular meaning or not.
"It is an old Japanese proverb," she said, smiling mischievously. "If a man wants to understand a woman, he must get inside her skin. The best way for him to do that...." She paused, giving him a strangely Western wink of her left eye. " ... is to wear her bathrobe for a while so that her presence will make itself known to him in that manner."
He laughed and patted her on the ass, copping a quick feel, as they say in such countries as America. She did not object.
Back in his room, she lit up his pipe for him and he leaned back against a comer of the room, his back to the wall, puffing contentedly while she spread herself out in a semi-squatting position in front of him. His own robe was a rich royal blue with yellow characters scattered about. As he sat and smoked while she sat beside him and kept her hand on his thigh; he relaxed, thinking about the TV show they would watch this evening. It was one of the more interesting shows on TV, especially in its revelations about certain things....
But, that for later.
First ... some food.
The Dane had ordered, through the front desk, to have some food brought precisely at 7:00 PM, the time the TV show would start. And, at perhaps ten seconds before that time, by his Seiko watch, there was a discreet tapping on the door.
"Come in," he said.
A young, teenage Japanese delivery boy came in, carrying a couple of sacks of paper, which he placed on the low table. Then he bowed and asked if the Dane wished to pay cash or charge it. Since it was from a snack shop nearby, rather than the inn's restaurant, the Dane asked Sumi to get his wallet, and he handed about five hundred yen-worth about two dollars, or a little less-to the boy, speaking in Japanese. The boy, hearing his own language spoken, struck up a quick conversation, asking the Dane about such things as pop-music groups (he liked the Stones better than the Beatles, but the Dane said that he knew of a Danish rock group called the Screaming Sounds that could outplay them both). Then, bowing as the Dane gave him a generous tip, he withdrew, closing the door carefully behind him.
Sumi, again anticipating his desires, got some Danish beer from the refrigerator-there was a small one in the room-and poured a glass for each of them. She also opened the sacks-she did not know what he had ordered-and was slightly surprised to notice that each sack contained a sandwich on a long, cylindrical chunk of bread, split through the center, stuffed with, in her case, Italian cheese and breaded veal, in his case peppers and salami and thin-sliced ham.
"What is this?" she asked.
"That is what they call in America a hero sandwich," replied the Dane, who had been to not only New York but also Chicago and therefore knew a bit more about that country than most.
He then explained to her what a hero sandwich was, and how he had first tasted them on Ninth Avenue and thirty-second Street in Manhattan, telling her that the Italians had a word for it, but he couldn't pronounce it, so it was to him (as to everyone else) just a New York hero sandwich.
She took hold of hers, holding it just a few inches away from her lips. She said, smiling sweetly, "You know what this looks like?"
The Dane, digging her but quick, whipped open his robe to reveal his crotch and his hairy cock, and said, laughing, "Of course. That is why I ordered them. You can pretend that it is me you are eating while you are eating your sandwich...."
Suddenly, he remembered something.
He snapped his fingers, frowned, and said, "Sumi, please! The TV set, we must not miss the show...."
He told her what channel to get and she moved over to the set and turned it on, switching to the channel he ordered. The nine-inch Japanese set glowed into a merging of colors like sherbet ice cream, then settled into a clear picture as she said, "Oh, now I see why you were so anxious to watch TV. I had forgotten it is Sunday, and the Pink Pussycat show is on."
He grinned, beckoning her back to him. She moved beside him so that both of them could watch the show. She stuck out her tongue tentatively at the sandwich; then, as he watched approvingly, she licked the edges of the hero as if it was a cock she was starting to prepare for sucking, then took a small bite in her dainty mouth and began to chew.
"Good?" he inquired.
She nodded, taking a sip of beer.
He bit into his own sandwich. It was still warm and he began to chew and swallow, savoring the tangy flavor of the cheese. He gulped down a couple of swigs of beer and sighed; life was quite content at this moment and he was feeling most happy indeed.
Especially as he turned his main attention to the TV.
The Pink Pussycat Show was a watchword on Japanese TV, an incredibly innovative show on any country's boob tube. It was, strictly speaking, a sex , show; plenty of girls, lots of flesh showing, most provocative poses, and much risque dialogue and teasing movements. It was sort of a show to fuck by, and the MC, a cool Japanese version of, say, James Bond crossed with Woody Allen, was getting and holding the audience's attention, for the show was broadcast before a live audience, and if one were to look closely when the camera panned out over the audience, one could probably see some elderly Japanese gentlemen jerking themselves off, only being discreet enough so that their neighbors would not notice, even if the camera, from its different position, did.
The chorus line was almost straight out of the old Jackie Gleason show, lots of fancy costumes and complex steps with a pulsating, driving band whipping out some pop-rock music behind them. The girls' costumes, for the main part, were pink or pink-based or blending colors; hence, the title.
The music was now really getting brassy, the girls kicking and showing off their excellent legs, their dresses pulled high enough to see that if they were wearing panties, they must have been flesh-colored, for a lot of thigh (and perhaps other things as well) was showing. Perhaps, also, the cameramen were sex freaks who liked to show a lot of crotch; or else the director wanted strictly snatch shots. At any rate, what was being revealed was, to say the least, quite a revelation.
The Dane chuckled; though Danish TV was pretty far-out at times, they had nothing like this at home. He sipped some more beer and felt something in his crotch.
It was, apparently, two things.
One, his prick, beginning to go into erection.
Two, Sumi's hand, helping the above to occur.
She smiled, showing her teeth; teasingly, she stuck out her tongue at him. He moved his hand holding the hero toward her, letting her take a bite of his sandwich. She gulped it down, nodded to indicate it was good, and continued to take care of her own food and drink with one hand while the other was running along his cock, fondling and playing with it.
The dance number was over and the MC was getting off a few sophisticated jokes. He was getting involved in a story about a girl who was a traveling saleswoman when one of the girls in the chorus line slipped up behind him and goosed him. The two-octave change in his voice was quite noticeable and the entire chorus line of girls started giggling and pointing as the MC tried to recover his aplomb. Then the camera panned out over the audience, to catch their tittering reactions; of course, from the almost conformist way everyone-audience, chorus girls, even the stagehands, in all probability-was behaving, you could easily tell that that particular bit had been strictly "made in Japan."
The Dane smiled, but he did not laugh. He reached for his pipe, which had gone out. He lit it up again, sniffing the pungent aroma, puffing away and blowing out a few smoke rings. Then he removed his pipe from his mouth and finished eating his hero sandwich, washing it down with more beer.
Sumi was still eating her sandwich and at the same time playing with his prick. She could feel it responding nicely under her expert hands as it began to grow longer and stronger. He could feel it, too; but he was playing it cool, just enjoying her presence and her touch and, hopefully, the TV show.
"That was really corny," he commented about the goosing incident. "I expect much better from a show like this. I have seen it before, and I thought it usually showed good taste." He shrugged. "It should get better, I suppose?"
"Oh yes, I think so," she agreed, giving him her full attention, her eyes running up and down his body like a TV camera panning over the entire scene. "I did not like what she did to him myself; I thought it was obvious and silly. Still ... it is an hour-long show, is it not ... and it has only been on for ten minutes now...."
The Dane, glancing at his watch, observed that she was quite correct.
"Oh," he said, noticing that his glass was just about empty. "Would you please get us some more beer, Sumi?"
She nodded, released his dick, got up and did as she was requested. She returned with two opened bottles of cold beer and placed them on the low table. She poured a glass for each of them, but then she took her glass and placed it over the tip of his prick so that a small foaming patch of brew was left right on the tip. Then she bent over and slowly and carefully licked it off, her tongue slurping silently for several seconds as she did so.
He chuckled; he felt like telling her that what she had just done would have been a much better TV skit than what he had just seen on the screen. He could also feel his cock throbbing in response; she was really getting him aroused in her own sweet and subtle way, which, of course, was all to the good for them both.
The band was playing a fast-stepping number now and a few of the girls were dancing around the MC, swooping in close like flying birds, taunting him by shoving their breasts into his face. He was reaching for the tempting appendages, but each time he would do so the owner of same would immediately dance out of his reach, thus causing him much consternation and frustration.
Finally, one of the girls-a very sexy one indeed, with huge smiling eyes and rather large boobs for an Oriental wench-seemed to bend so far over in his direction that her breasts just "popped" right out of her low-cut dress, right in front of him, the other girls, and, of course, the audience, both in and out of the studio.
The MC feigned delighted surprise (though this bit had probably been finely rehearsed at least a dozen times), and reached, not with his hands this time but his head, thus apparently "surprising" the young lady in question, for his mouth connected with her right breast, and the cameramen zoomed in for a close-up, showing the MC really getting a good grip on the girl's tit, his mouth moving and grooving while she just stood there with a feigned expression of surprise, as if she just could do nothing but stand there and wait until he was finished.
The Dane was chuckling now; the show was getting better and he watched with amusement as suddenly the others girls surrounded the MC and, pointing their fingers at him in a "no-no" sort of way, caused him to feign embarrassment, his face blushing almost as pinkly as the show's title, then slowly removing his mouth from the girl's breast and backing away while the other girls approached him, still admonishing him, making him feel and appear guilty in front of the audience.
Sumi, taking a small sip of beer, was smiling as she watched the proceedings. In fact, as if the MC's mouth was munching her own boobs, she began to feel a familiar sensation around her own breasts as their nipples, as if by autosuggestion, began to erect and her titties began to rise and fall in a prescribed rhythmic motion. She could also feel her fine little clit begin to vibrate meaningfully, and inside her sweet cunt some juices began to form.
The Dane, glancing at his lady, noticed her signs of sexual agitation, and grinned as he puffed on his pipe. Yes, he thought, the show is indeed getting better; and, soon, so shall we be getting some good things, too.
The girls had now backed the MC into a comer and while he was cowering and covering his head as if to ward off imaginary blows, the girls, as if orchestrated, in unison popped their breasts out of their dresses and thrust them, as a group, into his face.
The Dane, chuckling loudly, watched as the girls swooped like hawks around the MC. The MC peeped out from behind his covering hands for a few brief glances, then, as if doing a deliberate double-take, he slowly began to unfold his fingers so that one eye could be seen checking out the chicks, then the other eye, and finally he took his hands away from his face and, his face sagging and mouth opening in amazement, he reached out and took one breast each from one girl each into each hand, and then clamped his mouth on the breast of still a third girl, while the other girls surrounded him from the back and began to rub their boobs against his back, all this happening to the cheers and cries of the audience and the sounds of vibrant, hard-rocking rhythms from the band.
As if inspired by what could really be called, with no insult intended, the "boob tube," the Dane reached out and touched Sumi's left breast. His fingers quickly noticed her erecting nipple and his hand began to roam along the base and cleft between her breasts as she again transferred her hand to his cock and began to massage it as before.
The camera, panning over the audience again, showed them laughing and applauding and, in some cases, copping a feel themselves.
Then the camera turned its attention again to the MC and the girls, who now had him down on the floor and were on him like birds of prey, shoving their bared breasts into every portion of his body they could. He was gasping and struggling, but not very hard; in fact, he seemed to be getting a sly sort of enjoyment from his job, during this particular skit, as the camera slowly faded the scene away and the screen blacked out.
The Dane gestured at Sumi.
She had removed the top folds of her bathrobe and her own breasts were now exposed and pointing in his direction. He blew two smoke rings over toward her; they settled right on her boobs, like clouds over mountains. She laughed softly and, throwing off the rest of her robe, came toward him, her breasts thrust out firmly in front of her, exactly as the girls on the show had done.
He chuckled again, taking a final puff from his pipe before he placed it on the table. Finishing off his beer in one giant gulp, he removed his own bathrobe and, placing it over the tatami mats, he lay down on his back with his semi-erect prick pointing skyward, waiting for her to do what was expected of both of them.
She climbed right on top of him.
At the same time, the screen faded in again, this time on a different scene. It was a bedroom in a house, containing twin beds; in one was one of the more voluptuous girls from the show, and in the other was the MC. They both seemed to be sleeping as the music came on soft and romantic, with much strings and woodwinds.
Sumi was kissing the Dane, her lips smacking on his nose and cheeks and neck. He was rubbing her back as she was braced above him, her body just barely touching him. She moved the tip of her clit against the tip of his cock, and, as he began to feel his erection growing to completion under her excellent ministrations, she could feel those electric charges blasting through her body again, and the juices inside her cunt began to flow faster while the entire surface area of her skin was tingling as if doused with cologne ... or, in her case, perfume.
On the screen, the MC was slowly pulling off the covers from his bed. It was noticed that he was naked from the waist up; however, he was wearing a striped pair of pajama pants, and they were loud and bright in color.
The Dane was giving Sumi some love bites on her chin and neck as he felt his cock getting stiffer by the second.
On the screen, the MC was now getting his feet out of bed, yawning and stretching, and poising himself toward the other bed, where the girl was still feigning sleep.
Sumi was now Frenching the Dane, her lovely tongue slipping inside his mouth and slurping away happily, her cunt now touching his cock, her body getting closer to his all the time.
On screen, the MC was standing over the bed where the girl was sleeping, looking down on her, a leer slowly forming on his lips. The music was muted trombones, sliding up and down the register, and the camera, after catching that smirk on his face, panned over the audience, most of whom were grinning with eager expectations of some interesting actions about to occur.
Sumi was coming down on the Dane.
Her cunt lips were poised over the tip of his cock, which was now fully erect. He could feel his balls straining in their scrotum, and his foreskin was pulled all the way back, his glans revealed in all their sensitivity. As her lips slowly parted to allow him entrance, she began to come down on him, inch by inch....
In the world of the Pink Pussycat Show, the MC was now drawing back the coverings on the girl's bed. As he slowly pulled back the covers, inch by inch, it was revealed that the girl was not wearing any pajama tops. And, as he finally got the last of the bedcovers off, it was further revealed that she was wearing bottoms exactly like his, same color and design, like matching "his and hers" ensembles. Of course, her breasts were nicely curved and elongated, and seemed to be pointing, in a sort of teasing manner, right at the camera itself (and, by implication, the audience).
Sumi was now down all the way on the Dane, and she had opened up her pussy enough so that his prick was jammed all the way inside. She could feel his maleness all the way up to her hair follicles and down to her toenails, and her breasts were boring like drills, their nipples taut as springs, into his chest. She had her arms around his waist and he had a good grip on her nubile buttocks as she began to rise and fall in sexual rhythm, this time doing most of the work herself and really give him a fantastic fucking time. Up and down ... in and out ... over and around....
On camera, the girl had suddenly awakened and had quickly reached out her hand and slipped it inside the MC's bottoms. On screen, she seemed to be holding something belonging to him, and his expression had suddenly changed to extreme surprise, with perhaps a touch of simulated pain and agony added.
Sumi was coming now, her orgasmic thrusts beginning, and she could feel the Dane's dick stabbing and jabbing inside her churning cunt. Her clit was nestled into his navel, throbbing like something separately alive, and he could feel his balls bouncing, his cock working out on every square inch of her membranes. But he was still lying back, letting her do the work this time, awaiting the proper moment to join her in sexual commingling.
On TV, the MC had retaliated by reaching his hand inside the girl's bottoms, and seemed to be moving it around quite a bit. However, her expression, rather than one of pain and surprise, was a pleasurable, mouth-watering grin.
Sumi was coming now, her orgasms blasting off like rockets, her pussy juice pouring out all over the Dane's crotch. She was singing, sighing, crying for him to get with it, with her, in her, fucking her, letting loose his juice, as he still held back, waiting, and, this time, catching her at the end of an orgasm and firing off his sperm, exploding inside her, making her really work to get going again and catch up with him, his prick pulsating inside her churning cunt, their bodies meeting and greeting in sexual harmony, she humping and he pumping, their mutual orgasms putting them into a stimulating sexual world all their own, with stars bursting and planets colliding and....
On screen, the two of them were under her bedcovers, bouncing away wildly, moaning and groaning with joy as the scene slowly faded out and the superimposition came on with "Tune In Next Week for Another Great Show."
CHAPTER NINE
Less than an hour away from Kyoto sits the small, serene city of Nara, originally the first permanent capital of Japan, but now just a stop on a road map-except for a few Japanese (and tourist) attractions that are in themselves fairly unique.
One is the Deer Park.
Over 1,300 acres of grass and woodlands, with pine trees and ponds and literally hundreds of deer wandering around loose. Tame, almost domesticated deer; they will literally eat out of your hand (without eating your hand). Millions of Japanese, and tourists too, have spent many pleasurable Sunday afternoons, say, just wandering around the park and petting the deer, copping a feel, so to speak, of warm animal fur that means no harm (and, in other countries, might end up on some woman's coat).
The other is the world's largest Buddha, made entirely out of bronze, called the Daibutsu, located in its own hall at the end of the Deer Park. It is also known as the Great Sun Buddha, the repository of all the totality of universal knowledge, and supposedly, upon a visit to its towering grandeur-almost seventy-two feet high and weighing over five hundred and fifty tons-one is supposed to become, like the Buddha himself, enlightened. Per haps one does; at any rate, no one measures IQs on the way out.
You can, if you wish, enter the Buddha from the rear, and look around inside, about as large as a Western bathroom. Not much to see; but supposedly being that close to the inner "soul" of the Daibutsu might help one become more enlightened, so they say.
Now, on this Sunday in particular, with a bright summer sun shining down serenely upon them, Madame Suzy had brought her entire group of geisha girls-to-be-still maikos all-for a relaxing afternoon feeding the deer and watching the kids play with balloons and the adults play with each other. However, as the Madame was known for not wasting time at play when there was money to be made or business to be discussed, she had brought the girls here for a reason.
As she said to Sumi-when the others were not close enough to be listening-"You must have a patron very soon, Sumi, for you are almost ready to graduate, to become a true geisha, and a patron will be necessary to support you in true geisha style, as you well know."
Sumi raised her eyebrows slightly and smiled politely. She wasn't really sure what to think about the Madame any more. The lesbian love scene in the bath had made her wonder just what Madame Suzy had in mind for her. If her desire to be a geisha was not as strong at it was-and she had discussed this with the Dane on several occasions, when he had suggested that she "drop out" and get a real job that was more closely related to contemporary realities, such as that of teacher or airline stewardess-she might have quit. What money she had saved to pay for her schooling was almost gone, and, since she well knew that a geisha must have a patron to live on, as far as income was concerned, she knew full well what the Madame meant.
Yet, she thought, Madame Suzy may truly have my well-being at heart. But I do not want to sleep or play around with women, really. The Dane has offered to support me, but I am not sure that is what I want at this point. So I had better listen to what Madame Suzy has to say and see if I can derive some benefit from her experience and advice.
"Yes, Sumi, I have one particular patron in mind for you. He has seen you several times and has been much impressed by your delicacy of breeding and daintiness of bearing. He is a very important man and I think you should meet him so that you might appraise him as well." She paused building up suspense, then whispered into Sumi's ear, "He is the mayor of Nara, Shaguchi-san."
Sumi gasped.
Not so much in wonderment as in disgust.
For the mayor was known in private circles as a "dirty old man" in the extreme. That is, for debaucheries that had sometimes even shocked the tolerant Nipponese, such as one involving two eight-year-old girls and a ten-year-old boy. Even his political party, the dominant party in the country's government, had had to hush things up, and as a consequence had suggested that the mayor "retire" at the completion of his current term. With, of course, enough cash put away from various grafts, bluntly put, to support him for two or three normal life spans.
Sumi, still listening, nodded slightly but said nothing.
"I have arranged for you to meet him, here, alone, so that you might discuss your future with him. He is most interested in becoming your patron, and I suggest that you treat him with the utmost respect, as I am sure you will do anyway. Oh ... here he comes."
They had almost reached the back of the bronze Buddha, having walked almost the entire length of the park by now. The other maikos were quite some distance behind-Madame Suzy having signaled them to cool it for the moment-and, as the Madame gestured, Sumi now saw the mayor emerging from behind a clump of bushes, as if he had been waiting there (and spying on them) all the while.
He was not really so old, only in his mid-fifties. He was short and stocky, had a moon-round face with silver-white hair slicked back down to his neck, and very narrow eyes that seemed to have a permanent rigid cast to his gaze; his mouth smiled foolishly but his eyes looked as cold as ice cubes. He wore a pair of baggy trousers and a happi coat, a garment much like a Western smoking jacket only hanging almost to the kneecaps and being of a looser construction. He licked his lips eagerly as he spotted Sumi and, when they were but a few feet away, he bowed profusely three times and gestured that Madame Suzy was to leave them alone to discuss mutual matters in complete confidence.
Madame Suzy bowed and went to rejoin the other girls.
Sumi gave him a three-bow return, and he cackled, his gritty voice grating her ears, as he mumbled something about "joining him inside the Buddha for some enlightenment." A great public speaker and charismatic personality, he most certainly was not.
Quickly glancing around as if he did not want to be observed, he placed his arm around Sumi's waist and escorted her around the back of the Buddha and through the opening there. He said a few words to the guard, placing a one-hundred yen note in his hand, and the man mumbled his thanks and turned his back. Once inside the Buddha, Saguchi closed the door that slid back and made sure that they were, indeed, alone and undisturbed, the area lighted only by a small Japanese lantern dangling from the ceiling.
The mayor was not the most talkative man, so, from inside his happi coat, he pulled out parchment and a pen and began to draw some Japanese characters and pictorial scenes for Sumi's enlightenment.
Oh yes, it should be mentioned that Sumi was wearing a pants suit that was a cross between Oriental and Occidental fashions. That is, it was black silk, like a pair of pajamas, yet not so, for street wear only, trimly tailored and cut rather low in front so that whenever Sumi bowed or otherwise bent over, a touch of cleavage would appear, if one was looking closely enough.
And Saguchi-san had an eye, shall we say, for his favorite parts of the female form. As soon as Sumi bowed again, out of respect for his age or position or person or something like that, his cool eyes would suddenly become as warm as the embers of a burning fire and his gnarled nose would start sniffing as if he was smelling her sweet center itself.
But at the moment the only thing stirring, besides his hands and pen over the parchment, was his penis. That is, he was getting an erection, and it was starting to strain at the confines of his trousers. However, since the happi coat pretty well covered that part of his person, Sumi did not see nor know of the struggle that was taking place along his left trouser leg.
The mayor had drawn what looked like a suburban villa, with a small house and much acreage surrounding it. He was not a particularly outstanding artist, so the textures and lines of his artwork would hardly have passed muster in a grade school, but there was enough there for Sumi to understand what he was trying to portray, if not say.
Then he drew another pictorial scene, this time of a bedroom, with a female figure reclining on the futon mattress and a male figure just walking in the doorway. Such a picture, of course, needed no further explanation.
However, the mayor, trying to drive his point even further home, next managed to make some scrawls showing the man taking off his clothes. All accompanied, naturally, by a few carefully selected Japanese characters, to kind of add the dialogue. Though, with the explicitness of the drawings, dialogue was superfluous at best.
Sumi knew what the old man wanted.
He wanted to make love with her, of course.
Did she want that?
Again, she was not sure. Though he had so far treated her with respect, his reputation was so unsavory in her circles she really did not know what to think. Yes, she should have a patron; but, someone like him? And for how long? And most importantly-for how much?
Well, she supposed she owed him the courtesy of hearing him out. And anyway, the pictures were making her think happy thoughts of sex, so it was not surprising that she began to notice a familiar feeling stirring in her vital parts, a slight loosening of the fluid and a slight tingling of her clitoris.
But to be certain she carefully slipped her hand inside her bottoms while the mayor was drawing still another pictorial scene. This one was of the bronze Buddha itself, showing a man and a woman entering through the back door, the man holding onto the woman by what was apparently her vagina.
Then he quickly drew another one as Sumi moved her fingers in and about her central parts. Yes, her clitoris was indeed trembling, especially when she touched it with her thumb and slipped her forefinger along the delicate lips of her vagina, pushing it a few inches inside to the moist wetness of her membranes.
The mayor finished this picture, which showed the couple inside the Buddha looking at each other in a slyly provocative way.
Then his attention was turned toward her-she had started to walk about a bit, and he heard that, and looked-and he saw her with one hand inside her crotch, so to speak, and his mouth opened into an "O" of orgasmic sensation and his tongue slurped out and started to lick at his lower lip. He imitated her, slipping his own hand inside his trousers, there to discover his penis engaged in expansionary movements. He began to fondle his scrotum first, feeling his testicles swelling up and filling up the sac rather rapidly. Then his finger pushed back a portion of his foreskin and he began to fondle his glans; the stabbing feeling of sexual stimulation that shot through him made his start to perspire with passion, to feel consumed with lust so that he could barely think about his next work of art when....
When Sumi suddenly said, with all the blunt m honesty of, say, a society call-girl, "Would you like to make love with me, Saguchi-san?"
He was so startled he almost lost his grip on his instrument as he mumbled something about " ... want to be ... your patron ... have you tell me stories ... brew me cha ... play games . .
Well, she knew what he wanted, of course. And, being Japanese, she did not expect a direct answer. But, also being American, she wanted to ask him, anyway.
She would try him, she decided; as long as they were there together and Madame Suzy had so arranged it, she felt obligated to do so. Let him, though, make the next move; it was not up to her to put words in his mouth.
Perhaps something else, but certainly not words.
With his free hand he undid the sash around his happi coat and stripped the jacket from his skin, for he was wearing nothing underneath. His chest hairs were quite pronounced and he looked slightly fat, but not too much so, just a few inches of flesh at the waist. With his other hand he kept on massaging his sex organ, feeling it growing more and more with each movement.
Sumi smiled, and did the same with her free hand, removing the top of her pants suit, and her beauteous breasts were now on view for the mayor to take in with his sensually burning eyes. They were almost popping out of his head as he observed the magnificent width and breadth of her breasts. His nostrils were sniffing away, his tongue still licking at his lips; his throat felt dry, his heartbeat changed into a faster tempo. She was truly a well-endowed lady, and he began to move toward her, his hand still jerking himself off as he did so.
When he was standing right in front of her, she gave him a quarter bow, but kept her eyes glancing at his crotch, as if to tell him something. It took him a few more minutes to get the message; but when he finally understood he removed his hand from therein and removed his trousers and shorts, then kicked off his Japanese clogs and was as naked as the treasured day he was born.
As he stood their in his naked majesty, he began to mumble, as if embarrassed. He was not being too articulate at the moment-especially since his sex organ was now fully extended and looked like a stuffed sausage the color of dirty parchment paper-but she managed to understand a few words of his fulminating voice, such as " ... we are inside Buddha ... we came in through the rear ... it is only proper ... that I do the same to you ... ".
She was removing her shoes and the bottoms to her pants suit as he was saying these words, so she did not quite catch the full significance just at that moment. She turned her back toward him and he could see the fine, rounded contours of her beautiful buttocks rising out of her pants suit bottoms as she shed them like a snake's skin. Then she pulled off her pantyhose, and she too was completely naked.
She turned toward him and he could see her clitoris wiggling like a beckoning finger. His mouth kept opening and closing as he looked at her dainty vaginal orifice, noticing the fine spray of mist on her pubic hairs. He fell down on the floor in front of her and like a subject giving homage to his queen he took hold of her buttocks, gripping his fingers hard into her flesh, and began to eat her.
She shuddered, feeling his tongue licking at her clitoris, causing that sensitive organ to vibrate like a tuning fork. Hot flushing feelings were rushing throughout her nervous system and she could feel his slurping mouth making connection with her vaginal lips next, his tongue almost knife-sharp, slipping inside and slurping away.
Her juices began to flow and he could taste her sex fluids as he continued slurping away, his chin rubbing into her pudendum, his lips now clamped firmly upon hers. He was making great gulping, slurping sounds with his mouth and throat, and she could, from time to time, feel a touch of teeth as his molars accidentally scraped against her sensitive membranes.
As for himself, he could feel just how agitated he was in the crotch, and that his erection had to do something, too.
But....
He could not enter her while he was eating her, could he? That would be quite impossible.
However....
Perhaps, by praying to the bronze Buddha at the same time, an idea might come to him. Perhaps the Buddha would speak, would communicate some useful suggestion to him concerning this matter.
In fact, what he should do is to dedicate his sexual offering to the Buddha, make him a partner, so to speak, in what he was now doing. Make obeisance in his own way, offer the delightful mouthful he was munching to Buddha, and see what might happen.
He did.
As he continued to eat her, a part of his mind was praying to the Buddha, trying to get into communication with that great philosophical spirit. He could feel the spiritual message coming, he thought ... something seemed to be taking control of him ... what was it ... was it truly a message from the spirit world...?
Not quite.
What he was feeling was Sumi's orgasmic thrusts now being communicated to him via his mouth. He was gulping hot, gushing liquid as she held onto his head for support and poured forth orgasm after orgasm, right into his sucking, swallowing mouth.
He was almost choking on her come now, and had to tear his mouth away in order to catch his breath.
Had Buddha now spoken to him?
In a way ... yes.
For the mumblings he had previously uttered mere minutes ago seemed to be the correct message. That is, Buddha had already told him what he should do to honor that great saint's memory.
In short-the back door.
Now, he had never, not in his entire life, made love with a woman in such a way. However, he mused, one must do as Buddha commands; one must find a way to make the proper obeisance, to offer up the proper spirit and feeling to the Buddha.
Otherwise ... it might fall on top of him ... and her ... and then ... where would both of them be...?
He stood up, straightening himself out.
Sumi, who was still coming like a waterfall, tried to get hold of him, to steady herself. He took hold of her instead and spun her right around on her feet so that her rear was facing his front.
Feeling his own instrument so stiff it was likely to erupt at the slightest touch, he knew what he had to do, and do it quickly.
He placed his organ against her anal orifice and started to shove it inside, at the same time holding her by the breasts, feeling his fingers digging into that soft yielding flesh, also fondling her taut nipples at the same time.
She felt him begin to enter her back door and it was a most unfamiliar feeling to her. She did not really like it, at first, and struggled, feeling that sharp pain in her behind that was his instrument slowly coming into her sphincter. She could feel her muscles involuntarily making way for him, and at the same time she was still shaking and shuddering in the throes of her own up-front orgasm.
And, in fact, she wanted something in her vaginal orifice, too, to intermingle with her orgasmic reactions.
What choice did she have?
She had to use her own finger.
No; this time, two of them, slipping into her little slit, feeling, again, something inside where something should be.
As she felt something inside her rear, too.
Shaguchi-san's erection was penetrating all the way inside now and he was jiggling it as best as he could, trying to get it off, trying to make the final supreme sacrifice to the bronze Buddha.
And he did.
He came with a pent-up frustration, his orgasmic convulsions knocking them both down from its force to the floor, where they lay struggling, still jammed together as he let loose his juices in a series of spasmodic, old-man jerkiness, and she felt as if her entire sphincter was being bombarded with kamikaze pilots, all dropping their bombs simultaneously as he cried aloud, "Nagaiki Buddhal"
Translated: "Long live Buddha!"
CHAPTER TEN
The Dane had finally found an apartment to his liking.
It was on Kitaoji Street, on the north side of town; in fact, almost on the outskirts. The building was only three stories high and his apartment was on the top floor, facing the countryside that began just a matter of blocks away. An excellent view, and the place had a separate room for bedroom and kitchen, as well as a living room.
Unfurnished, too; that was what the Dane wanted. He picked up some Danish modem stuff, naturally, and mixed it with Japanese, too. Danish sofa, Japanese low table, Danish glassware, Japanese paintings ... and so on.
The only disadvantage was the bath, which was a community affair. That is, few, if any, places in Japan have private baths; they are generally shared with other residents on the same floor or floors, and the superintendent generally has a list of those wishing to use the facilities, so they do so, like queuing up or waiting in line for one's turn. A minor disadvantage; the Dane had lived in Japan long enough to get used to that, and besides, if he was really hurting, he could always piss in the sink and wash it down with hot water if he had too, and it wouldn't be the first time for that, either.
He was telling Sumi all about his place while they were having an evening out at Victor. Not a very Oriental name, naturally; however, it was one of the better tea houses in town. It was a place with careful cosmopolitan decor, high ceilings and chandeliers, burnished wood tables and chairs, faintly reminiscent of Demel's in Vienna but with Japanese reds and yellow also predominant in the color scheme. There were quite a few people there, listening to the up-to-date pop music on the stereo system; in fact, though, they were now digging some golden oldies, the Beatles' Abbey Road, and the Dane was tapping his foot to the strongly blues-based rhythms while puffing on his pipe and filling their area with the pungent and bittersweet scent of burnt apple tobacco.
Sumi liked it too.
She wrinkled up her dainty nose and breathed a few puffs of it into her own lungs. She also had her shoes off and was giving him some footsie under the table, her toes nudging his calves and ankles. She was wearing her red kimono, and he really dug her in red, a most regal-and, in some respects, Danish monarchy color too-shade for her subtle golden skin tones. As for himself, he was merely in a cardigan sweater over short-sleeved turtle, dark green over white and plain black pants.
They sipped their tea-that beautiful, soft green cha that they both loved so well-and looked into each other's eyes, as lovers usually do. She was really digging the Dane, despite her other sexual excursions, which she excused on grounds of her geisha training and to please Madame Suzy. Though she still would prefer the Dane as her patron, but he had declined on various grounds, so what could she do but keep on going to geisha school and watching and waiting for what might happen next?
At any rate, the Dane was still stationed in Kyoto, so they could see each other as often as they liked.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
She smiled, bowing slightly, and said, "Only for you, Dane-sare."
Her pet name for him.
He chuckled and blew a smoke ring over her head, where it wafted like the crown that suddenly appears over the head of an American housewife in a popular margarine commercial. The smoke ring hung there for several seconds before it faded away.
"Well, when we leave, after we get to my place, you can fill up on me to your heart's content," he said, feeling her toes tattooing his thighs with passionate Morse Code messages.
The music was switching to Santana now, and the Latin rock with the conga drums bopping away gently in the background was good foot-tapping music, so the Dane was doing so, with his free foot, beneath the table.
He sipped more tea and leaned back, noticing her breasts rising and falling as if responding to the music in the background. He smiled and let his tongue slip out and lick at his upper lip, as if suggesting something. She averted her eyes temporarily, feigning embarrassment, as if he was being too direct.
They finished their tea.
He paid the check and they left. He had a new Datsun these days, and it was a two-door compact car, most convenient for driving around Japan's crowded streets, and plenty easy on the gas.
Cream-colored, he always said to her-at least, starting with the first time she laid eyes on the vehicle-that it was the color of their love, the shading of his sperm and her ovum, the hue of their sexual congress.
In short-a fine fucking color.
They drove slowly through the deserted streets. It was after one in the morning, and most places in Kyoto-as in all of Japan pretty much-close around 11:30. Victor was open until 2:00 AM, which was rare, so that was why they were late-nighting it there.
The Dane managed to park only a block away from his building, so they got out, he locked the car, and they walked through the quiet, warm night to his entrance, where they gave courteous bows to the doorman who let them in. Then up the stairs and into his Danish-Japanese pad for the rest of the night.
He took off his sweater, removed his shoes and got some Danish schnapps for them to drink. She too removed her shoes, and sat down on the sofa while he checked out his Sony stereo and slipped on some Stan Kenton sounds. He liked the big bands on occasion, and, while the Kenton trumpet section was best known for its upper-register screeching, still he liked the sound of a powerhouse brass section, and that Stan certainly had.
What came roaring from the speakers was an Afro-Cuban selection--Kenton had been into that for a long time, decades it seemed-with plenty of congas and bongos in the background. Sumi leaned forward, eager to pick up on those distinctly un-Japanese sounds; her American portion of her heritage was making that music interesting to her, no doubt.
She sipped her schnapps, feeling the potent liquor slide down her throat. With her other hand she unfastened her obi, letting her kimono fall loose in the front, and her throbbing breasts showed through in all their sculptured magnificence. The Dane took his glass of schnapps and poured a few drops on her right breast, then leaned over to lick the stuff off.
She trembled, feeling his tongue gently licking at her sensitive skin. She began to feel warm, and not merely due to the midsummer heat, either. A thin patina of perspiration started to form on certain parts of her golden flesh and she felt those sensual fires beginning to bum inside her.
In her ears, the music was roaring into a tumultuous brass climax, and the Dane was now sucking her tit, his teeth biting gently, his lips holding firmly, her breast slowly sliding into his mouth.
She reached over and unzipped his fly.
Now, she would normally not do anything so direct; but these days the Dane was really turning her on, she was really digging him more than any other man she'd ever met, so she was not so surprised-nor, for that matter, was he-that she would do a thing like that.
She felt his cock.
He felt her fingers closing around it; it had been getting harder ever since he'd brought her home. She could feel it growing slowly, so she deftly slid the foreskin back and began to finger-fondle the glans. He felt those sexual tremors start in his body, and it made him feel goddam fucking good, to say the least.
He stopped sucking her right boob.
He reached for the schnapps glass and poured some more on her left breast. He moved his mouth over there; she felt the cooling effect of the liquid against her warm flesh, then his tongue was licking at her nipple, which was now growing taut with excitement, as was the other nipple.
His tongue licked along the entire length of her left tit, then began to move about in that sculptured cleft between her breasts. His nose tickled her nipple and she almost sneezed. She continued to play with his prick as, this time, he got his mouth over her tit and began sucking for all he was worth.
She was really squeezing his dick now and he could feel his balls filling up his scrotum as he kept on sucking away, feeling her warm breast leaping like a fish into his mouth, tasting her skin and perspiration and schnapps all at once.
Finally, he stopped, leaned back, and made her let go of his cock.
He took off her kimono, took her by the hand and led her from the couch to the center of the room.
"Do you like that music?" he asked her.
"Very much."
"Would you like to dance to it?"
"If you wish."
"I wish. But, first ... ".
He started to strip.
He whipped off his shirt, then dropped his pants, followed by his shorts and socks. Now he was naked too, his well-muscled body flexing as if exercising. But before going into any terpsichorean activities, he reached for his glass of schnapps and poured the rest of it over his prick.
He gestured for Sumi to kneel in front of him, to pay homage and give worship to this descendant of the victorious Vikings of centuries ago. In short, he wanted her to give him some head; and then he would give her some too.
She understood.
She knelt down in front of him, her eyes wide and eager, her nose upturned and her mouth open into a sensual smile. She took hold of his scrotum with one hand, the base of his prick with the other. She let her tongue roll out and just touch the tip of his prick; he shivered, feeling her tongue lapping away, and feeling a few drops of sperm slip out at her passionate ministrations.
She could feel him growing right in her hands.
Licking away, she started to draw his dick closer to her lips. She opened her mouth, using her tongue to guide it inside. He felt her mouth closing over it, her nose tickling his pubic hairs.
She was munching away now, her lips clamped firmly over his cock, and her hands were still manipulating his base and balls as she started sucking him off.
He could feel her tongue still working him over, the moist membranes of her mouth like the satin lining of her juicy cunt, as her throat muscles did their job and drew his prick inexorably into her throat. She licked and sucked and they could both feel his instrument growing longer and stronger by the second. Her clit was also trembling with ecstasy and she was feeling just a bit wetter inside her pussy, too, as she licked and sucked away with great satisfaction.
In their ears, the music roared on, the drums getting wilder by the beat.
He was starting to sweat and he could feel drops of perspiration running down his flesh. He could not hold back much longer, either, from the expert way she was working him over. Well, he wanted her to suck him now, and fuck him later.
But....
It was now, not later, that he came.
His cock exploded inside her mouth, and a river of white-hot sperm gushed out in that steady, stroking style of his. Her mouth was filled to overflowing with both cock and come and she almost coughed as the first batch blasted into her. She struggled to swallow, tasting his manhood, slurping down his sperm as fast as he could pour it out. He felt the vibrations of his explosions, and her responsive membranes taking care of him, too.
He just stood there, his hands folded over his chest, his feet braced firmly on the floor while she sucked and swallowed the stuff from his slowly softening organ. Finally, when she had gulped down the last eruption, she slowly removed his penis from her mouth and daintily licked off the come from his cock and balls, her tongue still tasting his essence as she did so.
He was trembling slightly from his efforts, but was still standing tall and straight as he reached down and helped her to her feet. His dick was limp as lasagna and he knew it would be at least a little while before it could harden again. But he had the answer to that; he knew the stimulation he wanted.
As he had said before, so he said again.
"Let us dance."
She stood in front of him, her boobs thrust toward him, and began to do as he asked.
She began to move her hands, almost like a Hawaiian hula, as supple as twirling snakes. Her sweet ass began to shake and shimmy like a stripper. In short, he was making her feel mighty raunchy, more earthy than exotic; her Western heritage was coming out full bloom and really exciting her bloodstream with raw, screaming sex as her hair sprayed over her tits and her back and her eyes began to almost dilate. As if she was puffing pot, her mouth began to feel dry as sand, and she was really sweating like an animal in the steaming summer sun as she spun around and around like a whirling dervish in time to the earth-shaking music.
The Dane wanted to dance with her, but he was so surprised, almost startled, that he more or less stopped in his tracks and just stood and stared, watching her moving around the room, deftly ducking the furniture, her body a gyrating creation of some world he had never known. He just stood there, feeling his prick coming to life again, just watching her move and groove to the music, and it was all he could do to take in this new, uninhibited side of her.
So he waited and watched until he finally decided that he wanted to be a participant, not merely a spectator. He began to move himself, doing a sort of shuffle, an old and revered sailors' dance that his Viking forbearers had done, a sort of hornpipe with a fast, shuffling motion that seemed to make him sway from side to side as he clapped his hands above his head and twisted his eyes and neck to watch her at the same time.
She seemed to be ducking him.
She was dancing away from him, her body moving, it appeared, in the opposite direction. If he headed for her and she was moving toward the wall, she sort of reversed her field and swung right by him. Then he would have to start going after her again.
Now he was shuffling around her back, pointing his masculine buttocks in her direction. He got himself close enough to "crease bumpers" with her; ass to ass, flesh against flesh.
She felt it too, and strangely enough, she quickly turned around and, reaching out with her fingernails, raked his back. He could feel blood pouring from where the nails had cut through the flesh. He was really surprised; he had never experienced her doing anything remotely related to that before, and wondered what had released this new, and possibly dangerous, facet of her psyche.
With one hand he wiped the blood off his back.
Then he dropped his dancing step and simply leaped toward her. His long legs made all the difference, and he got close enough to grab her by the breasts and begin to shake the shit out of her, in retaliation, and also to get her shaped up into the sweet, sexy Sumi he knew.
That lasted all of two seconds.
Her skin, damp with perspiration, slipped away from his grip. He chased her, cornering her by the front window. He grabbed hold of her shoulders, pinning her body into the comer, his cock-now getting pretty well stiffened and straightened out-jabbing her stomach like a gun.
He shouted, "What the fuck are you doing? Why did you scratch my back like that?"
Her comments were almost undecipherable, but he managed to make out something like " ... that is part of fucking ... I want you to really ... fuck me good ... really let me have it ... hard and strong ... fuck me so beautiful I never forget it ... damn you, Dane, why are you waiting ... fuck me now...."
She was acting just like a cheap whore, he thought.
Then, thinking again, he wondered if perhaps he was bringing out this strange side of her sexual persona. And, after a few seconds further perusal, he was thinking that perhaps he should test her and really see just how rough she wanted to be, not so much fucked as raped.
With one hand he released her shoulder and grabbed hold of her long hair. He yanked, forcing her head against the wall, and slammed his lips into hers, not only using his tongue almost as a club inside her mouth but also getting his teeth going, biting her on the lips almost hard enough to bleed.
From her throat she shrieked, not in terror but pleasure, and tried to bite him back. She banged her boobs against his chest as if they were boxing gloves, and he could feel the hard edges of her taut nipples tearing into his skin. He moved his cock from its position in her stomach down to her clit, and really started rubbing that sensitive organ, feeling her instantaneous response, her body twitching as if being electrocuted, her cunt lips opening wide and grasping for his cock.
He moved it along her clit for a while longer, both of them hearing a screeching Kenton trumpet section intermingling with their own harsh cries of lust.
Then he got his cock right against her cunt lips, and pressed hard.
He felt her lips open wide, and he could feel his prick pushing its way inside, in one long savage stroke. She felt him suddenly filling up that passionate cavity of hers and she gasped and gulped as if socked in the stomach. Her back was really jammed into the comer and she braced herself as he rammed, slammed and jammed it to her, his cock a guided muscle going to give her plenty of far-out fucking right on the spot.
Her orgasms began almost instantly and her clit was an electric wire sending supercharged sexual energy into her willing body. She got her hands around his neck and began to scratch at his neck, almost as if she were trying to strangle him. He felt her fingernails, but he didn't mind this time; his own fingers were clutching at her sweet ass, gripping deep fingerfuls of flesh as they did so.
He started to pump her as she was humping him; he could feel her coming like an erupting volcano, her hot passionate liquid flowing out of her cunt and drenching his cock and balls. He dug in harder, sending shock waves up and down her spine as his cock made contact with every square inch-or perhaps cubic inch-of her manipulating membranes.
She pulled herself further into him, her haunches jammed against the wall, her hands almost choking him around his neck, as, not caring to wait at all this time, he came right at the middle of one of her gigantic orgasms. His juice cut loose, stabbing her, drenching her, his prick buckling like steel under hot sun, exploding like a dying star inside her quivering cunt. It was raw, uninhibited earthy, and raunchy sex they were having; grunting and groaning, sweating and swearing, and, as he fucked her, he wondered ... which was really ... the real Sumi....
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Dane and Sumi were spending the holidays in the Japan Alps.
The Christmas holidays.
Although, to Japan, essentially a non-Christian nation, Christmas meant nothing at all. However, New Year's was a big scene, but, in this case, the Dane and Sumi had reserved some time in the mountains during Christmas, getting there early enough so that they got a fine, well-equipped room at the Iwappara Ski Lodge, all exquisitely Japanese, before the mob scene began. That way, they were booked through New Year's as well.
Now, the Alps are located on the northern tip of Honshu island, the main island, and a good 500 miles or more from Kyoto. However, the country's excellent train service got them there with no sweat, and they even rented some skis from the local proprietor, though bringing their own ski clothes. Hers were red velvet with fur trimming, his a black leather but also with fur trim.
Now, Sumi had been finally graduated from Geisha school.
Yes, Madame Suzy had finally let her favorite pupil make it through her diploma. And, as far as "sponsoring" Sumi was concerned ... well, guess who finally made that very special scene....
A rich Japanese businessman?
A passionate Buddhist priest?
A cool young stud?
No.
Madame Suzy herself.
That way, the madame could have a sort of "hold" over her precious charge. That is, if some influential political, economic or social type might want to give a geisha party, Madame Suzy would deliver Sumi like a prize package, and have her listen well to what the men would talk about and report back to her. That way the madame would be very much in the know about what was happening in certain circles of influences; in short, she would have interesting information with which to confront those personages of power, should she want to play subtle Japanese power games with them, for any reason.
Among which financial gain would obviously be the main one.
Sumi couldn't care less.
She was living with the Dane now.
And she was digging him more and more each day.
So, naturally, was he.
Right now they were sitting in their room, she on his lap, almost American-secretary style; she was sucking a drink from his bottle of schnapps, and as she was putting the bottle to her pouting, thickly passionate lips, his gentle hands were fondling her gigantic breasts, his fingers easily manipulating her nipples, which were fully erectile from her sensuous feeling for her Scandinavian man, beard and all.
His thumbs were softly pressing against the base of her breasts as his fingers diddled with her nip pies, almost twanging them like a tuning fork. Her erect little clit was shuddering in ecstatic movements while her inner juices were starting their usual flowing motions as he squeezed her boobs and heard her breathing change tempo and key.
They were both naked, naturally.
And, as she sat directly above his dick, he could feel his tool becoming longer and stronger by the second. Her cute, well-rounded buttocks were resting directly above his prick and he could feel the softness of her skin caressing the very tip of his cock.
"Shall I wish you a merry Christmas?" he asked teasingly as he played with her tits.
She stopped sucking on the schnapps bottle long enough to murmur a reply, "Yes, if you like. I want to wish you the same, with more to come."
At those words, as if somehow stimulated by the sweetness of her native language-they were both conversing in Japanese, and he was fairly fluent in that tongue these days-his prick began to rise slightly skyward and to brush the opening to her lovely ass.
They had already exchanged presents, as was the custom in his country. She had given him a case of his favorite Danish schnapps, and he had given her the tailored red ski suit that she was skiing in, its lovely red shading a most passionate color against her pale golden skin.
Her ass caressed his cock some more and he could really feel his member rising to the challenge. He switched one hand from her breast to her stomach and began to massage her there, his forefinger nudging her little navel. She shuddered deliciously and could feel the growing hardness of his prick pressing against her asshole, almost automatically spreading her cheeks apart for her.
She reached her hands back and hooked them around his waist. He could feel her fingernails scraping softly against his skin as she began to do a dance of love with her fingernails against the soft, sensitive skin of his buttocks. He grinned as he felt his prick get even harder; it was now pressing strongly against her anus, like a policeman's club, and demanding entrance almost as strongly.
His probing fingers found her clit.
It was trembling; his thumb touched it and began to diddle with it. She started feeling the red-hot electric thrills jabbing throughout her nervous system and his thumb kept up the pressure, relentlessly pursing his and her sexual satisfaction. She clutched hold of his ass more strongly, her fingernails digging into his flesh as she felt his hand around her left tit and his cock nudging her anus, as he felt his balls constricting and expanding within his scrotum and his cock rising like a rocket, ready to be rammed right up her asshole almost any second.
They began to perspire, both of them, and they could feel each other's bodies clinging to themselves as his expert hands began to really turn her on.
Now his forefinger was inside her cunt.
It had gently pushed aside her cunt lips and was busily exploring the fertile territory inside, his forefinger slowly and carefully moving along a predetermined route, feeling the moist membranes part to allow him entrance. Her juices were flowing more strongly now and he felt his finger humming enveloped in thick, moist fluids as he probed as far as he could reach.
Then he withdrew his finger-she had put down the bottle of schnapps now-and let her taste her own joy juice. She licked some off his finger and swallowed it like a veteran, gulping it down, but with dainty delicacy, as always. It mixed easily with the residue flavor of schnapps still left in her mouth.
He picked up the bottle of schnapps and took a hefty swig. Then, placing it back on the floor again, he sucked the remainder of her juice from his finger, savoring the flavor. He almost wished he was also smoking his beloved pipe, but he had placed it down earlier, just before she climbed on his lap, and it had naturally gone out by this time.
He replaced his hand over her cunt.
This time it was his forefinger pressing against her clit, and his thumb was now inside her cunt, playing cock with her. As for his real cock, that was now nudging its assertive way inside her anus, as, with his other hand, he gripped her left breast and began to move his body on the fulcrum of their two bodies, feeling the force of his position pushing his prick inside her asshole, inch by inch.
She began to expand her sphincter muscles to allow him passage. Luckily, she had previously greased this anal passage, just in case he might try to get inside her by the back door. She was quite familiar with his sexual habits by this time, and of course allowed him the complete freedom that he also gave to her during the course of their mutual intercourse.
He began to actively push his prick inside her anus.
She began to moan softly, as if in pain, and he suddenly stopped; he did not want to hurt his sweet piece of Japanese pastry. But, no; she told him to go ahead, she was just starting to hum a Japanese song to the gods of sex, or something like that. He chuckled and gradually increased his movements until she could feel, at the same time, his thumb halfway down her cunt and his cock all the way up her ass.
She sighed, her voice as silken as a Japanese kimono, and he felt cock really jammed inside now.
He began to bounce slightly, rocking her like a baby's cradle, and he could feel his thumb getting wetter by the second as she started coming with much vigor. His cock began to probe her sphincter as if it was a cunt-which, in a way, it was, at least for the moment-and he could feel his balls really getting tight inside their sac of skin, and the foreskin on his prick was pulled all the way back so that his sensitive glans was making direct contact with the equally sensitive lining of her anus.
His hand moved to grip her other breast and she also moved one of her hands so that she could rub it up and down his back. He could feel her fingernails rubbing and scraping against every vertebrae, and he started to shudder with ecstasy as her trained and tutored fingers did their job only too well.
She was coming now.
He could feel her body vibrating and shaking, and she could feel his twin probing instruments deep inside her from both directions. Her orgasms increased in intensity, and her fingernails were digging deeply enough into his flesh to cause a few drops of blood to flow on his back and butt.
Feeling her go into orgasm after orgasm, he held back, wanting to really catch her on the crest. He waited, his prick shuddering, his balls aching, until he could feel her really riding high, like a surfer with a perfect wave at Waikiki.
Then....
He came.
His cock exploded inside her anus and she could feel the gigantic force of his sperm blasting out all over and inside her anus. She gave a cry of joy and a slight grunt of pain as his prick penetrated deep, spraying its sperm as a farmer might sow his seeds during spring planting. He felt her cunt clutching his thumb as if it was a cock in its own right, trying to make it come as her cunt was now doing.
He held her close, held her tightly, making sure the violent forces of their mutual explosions didn't knock them onto the floor. His explosions gradually phased down and out, and he could feel her sphincter muscles, as if from an open mouth, sighing with relief when his prick began to soften and relieve the almost unbearable pressure inside her asshole.
Slowly he withdrew, and they separated.
They rested on the tatami mats on the floor, holding each other closely, savoring that magic moment when all they wanted to do was to touch and be touched; that gentle relaxing moment right after sex is consummated, and the waiting, or resting, period before another bout would begin.
Then they took a quick shower, got into their ski clothes and prepared to make the scene on the slopes.
Why not? It was still mid-afternoon, time for a few quick runs.
They got outside and walked the short distance to the nearest ski run. There were only a few people around, so all the better. He helped her on with her skis, and then adjusted his own. The sun was bright reflecting giant shadows against the tightly packed snow. A few mountains gleamed skyward in the background and just a patch of clouds were drifting in the cool blue sky.
They kicked off from the ski run.
It was a game of "Tag, you're it!" and she was playing it for him; for, as she started skiing downhill, she coolly grabbed at his cock, and of course that meant that he must chase and catch her, and thus return the compliment when he did so.
Being the gentleman that he was, he let her have a two-minute head start. Then, bracing and bending his body, he pushed off down the slope, feeling the cool winter air brush against his exposed face, chilling him suddenly.
As for Sumi, she was hundreds of yards ahead, feeling the bracing air awaken her from her previous sexual slumber, feeling the speed of her body increasing with each second. She was a rather good skier, and she easily adjusted the balance of her body on the skis, leaning this way, then the other way, all the while making a fluid pattern of ski tracks as she moved easily around trees and boulders and other possible hazards of the ski slope.
The descent was breathtaking, the scenery gorgeous, as she felt her body completely in touch with the hard-packed snow below. She glanced back and did not see the Dane, who was now behind a clump of trees. She giggled, thinking he'd really have to hustle to catch her sweet, swinging ass, as she continued her downhill descent.
Behind her, the Dane broke out from the clump of trees and looked for Sumi. He could not see her; matter-of-fact, it was slightly difficult for him to see because the sun was reflecting on the snow in front of his eyes, due to the angle of descent, while she had no such problem and could continue on her merry way.
He adjusted his ski goggles carefully with one hand, his ski pole in the other, as he continued going down the hard-packed snow. The chilling air braced him; he breathed deeply, feeling the clear mountain air coming into his lungs. He inhaled, then exhaled; he was feeling fine, the cool air was making him more determined to hunt down his cunt and slip it to her, in the way only he could.
He swerved to miss a boulder, then easily accommodated himself around against tree. The way downhill was now pretty clear, but he could not see her. He was trying to follow her tracks, and it was obvious that someone had been down the slope before him. However, there were several pairs of tracks and he could not really tell which ones was hers.
He continued.
Halfway down, he thought he saw something swerve below him, around another clump of trees. But, as he made that scene himself, scant seconds hence, he figured it must have been only a fleeting shadow because no one was there when he barreled through.
Then....
He spotted her.
Almost at the bottom of the slope, he spotted a patch of red. It must be her, he thought as he moved himself forward, eager to catch her.
The patch of red suddenly disappeared, right at the bottom of the slope.
He urged himself on, taking deep gulps of the cold mountain air as he did so. He could feel his lungs expanding and contracting breathing deeply as his body kept on moving ever downward.
Finally, he was at the bottom of the slope.
There were ski trails stretching out in various directions and he could not really tell how recent any of them were. He really had no idea in which direction she had gone; if, indeed, she had really made it all the way down. For all he knew, she could be hiding anyplace on the long ski trail, laughing at him, winning their little bet. Nothing serious; yet, he felt that he, as the man, should surely be able to outwit such a diminutive Oriental dish with no trouble, even on her home grounds.
He leaned back, scratching his head in puzzlement, trying to decide where to make his next move....
When a snowball hit him squarely in the face.
And almost knocked him right on his ass.
He gulped melting snow for several seconds; then, wiping the stuff off his face and muttering several explosive oaths in Danish-a guttural language which made his vocal explosions all that much more violent-he took off his sunglasses and, squinting his eyes, looked around.
No one in sight.
He spun his head around almost 180 degrees, looking and searching. He cleaned off his face and wiped off his glasses, and looked around some more. Still no sign of the culprit.
Sighing, he was starting to think about searching around but had not yet made up his mind in which direction, when....
Smack!
He got another snowball, this one on the back of his neck.
Now he could feel snow melting down his collar and drops of chilly water dripping down his back.
He was getting slightly pissed by this time, so he started moving, removing his skis quickly and making a sort of concentric circle as he walked around, looking everywhere for whoever had beaned him, not once but twice.
Finally, just as he was really wondering where in hell the snowball thrower really was, a huge lump of snow suddenly came to life, so to speak, and Sumi, snow splattered all over her suit, came creeping like some hiding animal in a burrow from the snow pile she had hidden herself in.
As she approached him, she stopped about five feet away and made a graceful Japanese bow, halfway to the snow itself, begging his humble pardon for belting him so beautifully with two snow-made missies. She did it so delicately and with such grace and charm that he could not help but chuckle in amusement rather than growl in anger, as he said, "All right, you win this round. But wait until the next time; I shall get you for sure."
"Perhaps you will get me this time, Dane-san," she replied mischievously as she suddenly unzipped her snow suit, removing her ski cap and goggles as she did so.
Within seconds she was naked from the waist up, and her beauteous breasts were jutting out in front of her as if asking to be touched, fondled, licked or sucked.
Well, the Dane thought, why not have some sex in a snow bank? If she can tolerate this winter air, I, from a country three times as cold as hers in winter, should surely be able to do so.
So....
He too whipped off his clothes, until he was just as topless as she.
Luckily, no one else was around and about to observe this spectacle. But, if someone had been, so what? The Japanese pretty well leave others alone to take care of their own business in their own way, anyway.
As he approached her she started to slip out of her ski pants, and by the time he was close enough to touch her, she was as naked as the day she was born.
He grinned, licking his lips; then he too followed suit, dropping his own drawers until he was naked too.
She shuddered slightly in the cool winter air and he also could feel the chill. So he suggested they pick up their ski clothes and head for the nearest snow bank, there to make some sexual scene before they both froze their asses off.
She did as he suggested, and, now behind a snow bank, he laid her down on top of her ski suit, with his own held loosely on top of himself, to make a sort of top and bottom of a tent for both of them. She was half sitting, half lying, her back braced against the snow bank, and as his body touched hers, he could feel that her skin was just a bit chilly, as also was his.
Well, his cock wasn't sitting still, either; it had started to go into action the second he had finished stripping, and it was cradled against her stomach, its tip pressing softly around her navel.
He threw his ski suit around his back so he wouldn't freeze his ass off, either. The sun was just about getting ready to go down, and he wanted to go down first, to say the least.
He rubbed some snow over her tits, noticing the change in expression in her eyes. She shuddered slightly, then grabbed some snow of her own and sprayed it around his prick.
He shivered, feeling the coldness of the snow covering his cock. But it didn't make it go down. Quite the contrary; he could feel his cock getting more excited by the second.
He started licking her boobs.
His tongue snaked out and began to slurp away at the melting snow on her fleshy breasts, touching her nipples. She shuddered and could feel her nipples erecting themselves at the touch of his tongue. He could feel that, too, and he also felt the firmness of her flesh as his tongue lapped over her tits completely, from tip to base, then lounged around the lovely cleft between her breasts.
He was slurping away now, his tongue licking and lapping away at every square inch of her front as his cock nestled in her navel. She could feel it jabbing her, and she reached up to grab hold, trying to push the foreskin back and expose the sensitive glans to her fingers.
He licked away happily and she could feel her body responding to his ministrations.
His tongue began to move northward, so to speak, and he started licking at her chin, his tongue caressing the neck muscles first. She was squeezing his cock for all she was worth, and he could feel the pressure of her fingertips, as well as that of his balls jiggling inside their scrotum.
She was really pulling back his foreskin now, and could feel him growing more alive every second she held him in her hands. She got one hand underneath his scrotum and was really getting his balls in an uproar as her fingernails gently but firmly scratched his scrotum.
He moved his cock against her clit.
He was still licking her, but now he had moved this tongue along her thick Oriental lips. She felt the pressure of his tongue, and she got her own tongue going at him, spouting out of her mouth and connecting with his.
He tried to drive hers back into her mouth, his lips now firmly clamped against hers. She opened her lips to let him inside, then got her own tongue entangled with his.
His cock was jiggling against her clit now and she could feel those electric thrills blasting into her. She shuddered, due to both his actions and the snow her body was braced against. Her clitoris was vibrating wildly as his cock was really going to town against it.
She shifted her body so that his prick shifted too. It moved down to nudge the lips of her cunt, as his own lips were opening up her mouth. She started to suck at his tongue, feeling it penetrating all the way back inside her mouth, feeling it slurping around her moist mouth membranes. She was almost choking, the way he was driving his tongue inside her. She gulped at him, then moved her own tongue into a better position to allow her more breathing room.
Then she felt his cock nudging her cunt lips.
They began to open wide, allowing him passage.
She bit his tongue and he almost, screamed with pain.
She got her teeth going and began biting him around the lips and mouth. It was as if she was some kind of mosquito or other insect, wanting to feed on his flesh. He was almost ready to smack her; yet he restrained himself, though barely, because he realized that it was her Western nature now asserting itself.
He bit her back a few times, and that only encouraged her to return the compliment more vigorously.
She bit his nose.
He almost sneezed inside her mouth.
He retaliated by getting his cock really moving against her cunt lips. He started shoving it inside, almost roughly, and she could feel her own pussy lips parting to allow him passage.
A bit more roughly than usual, he was shoving his full erected self inside her cunt. He pushed, feeling his body manipulating hers, and he could feel his cock now completely rammed and jammed inside her cunt.
On his back, her fingernails were raking blood out by the bucketsful now. She was getting wilder by the second-perhaps due to the stimulation of the snow against her own bare back?-and he could feel the blood dribbling down his back.
He shoved his cock full against her cunt.
She let out a gasp, letting go of his nose, which she had just been biting. This time he got his teeth on her nose and gave her a good chomping, his teeth leaving some deep marks in her nose as he did so.
Then he moved his mouth down and started biting her breasts.
She arched her back into almost a 90 degree angle as he did so, feeling the driving power of his prick inside her pussy. He grunted, his back feeling both stiff and bloody from her raking, stabbing fingernails.
She was coming now, her orgasms increasing in intensity with each passing moment. The snow around her was beginning to melt from the sexual heat she was generating, and his own cock was driving so hard inside her cunt that he was starting to sweat as if it was the middle of summer.
He gulped air wildly, feeling her cunt twisting his cock almost out of shape. He pounded into her, driving her in a wild, murderous intensity as he did so, feeling her every square inch of skin responding to his exploding sexual rhythms.
She was biting at his ears now, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to practically fuck her into the ground, and that he was just about doing.
Her orgasms were so intense that she was making a lake out of the snow around them, and he waited until he could feel that she had just completed one exploding orgasm before....
He came.
Joltingly, his cock exploded with come and he fired off his rounds in that slow, stabbing but smooth way of his inside her cunt. She was getting his mouth now as he fucked her; he had switched his lips to her attention and his tongue was practically choking her as he fucked the living shit out of her, feeling the sweat and strain and melting snow and driving ecstasy of....
Winter in Japan.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"I wish to buy her, do you understand?"
"Well, I do not wish to sell her, is that clear?"
The Dane and Madame Suzy.
Arguing over Sumi, whom the Dane wants to "buy" in order to become her "patron." And, since Madame Suzy, shall we say, "owns the rights" to said Sumi, and since she apparently does not wish to sell-what then?
Why, what else-except argumentation, if not lamentation as well.
They were, all three of them, in Madame Suzy's private office at the geisha school, an office furnished with exquisite Japanese prints and not tatami mats but thick carpeting on the floor and Westernized furniture and a very official executive sort of ambiance about it. Of course the door was locked so that their discussion could be conducted in private.
The Madame was wearing a Western pants suit, black with white trim, and though she was still rather overweight, nevertheless her big boobs-though not as well-proportioned as Sumi's, of course-really stuck out, thrusting like Buick bumper guards through the top part of her pants suit. Sumi was wearing traditional geisha kimono and obi, and the Dane had on a thick Scandinavian sweater and corduroy pants.
It was just about the end of winter, and the snows were melting and the weather was warming and it was the time to get ready and play some fine spring trips. However, the only trip the Dane was interested in was a trip that would get his sweet Sumi out of the clutches of the grasping Madame Suzy, who was, it seemed, booking Sumi on many exclusive and high-paying private geisha parties-with businessmen, politicians, artists, etc.-and taking more than fifty percent of the tab for herself.
Of course, in the world of the geisha, the Mizu shobai-the floating world, literally, or, in Japanese slang, show business-anything goes, and that kind of cut was customary, if nothing else. However, the Dane had recently secured a promotion-with a corresponding raise in salary, of course; a substantial raise in salary-and would soon be relocating to Tokyo as sales manager for his company. While he hated to leave Kyoto-and so, as she had told him, would Sumi-he still would be based in Japan, a country he had grown to care deeply about, and he really wanted to take Sumi with him and keep her as his woman, so he was insistent that Madame Suzy surrender her.
However, under Japanese law, Madame Suzy had actually assumed the role of guardian for Sumi, and therefore the Dane-especially as a gaijin, or foreigner-could not legally get his cock in her cunt. All he could do was to bargain with the madame and try to work out an acceptable financial settlement with her. No other way.
But Madame Suzy wasn't interested.
The Dane had even gone so far as to offer her the sum of three million yen, about $10,000 American, for full and exclusive rights to his sweet Sumi. Even that most generous bid had been turned down flat.
If she wasn't so goddam ugly, I would fuck the living shit out of her ... this was what the Dane was thinking as he puffed thoughtfully on his pipe, filling the room with his aromatic apple-flavored tobacco as he pondered how he could possibly make Madame Suzy come to her senses.
"Please, sir, I believe our discussion is closed, so I would appreciate your leaving," Madame Suzy said, her face smiling triumphantly, her eyes cold as burned-out coals as she bowed slightly and gestured in the direction of the door.
Sumi looked as if she was about to cry. There was a sweet sadness in her face, giving her countenance almost the appearance of some Madonna, almost like a painting that might be hanging in some Japanese art gallery.
The Dane looked at her and felt an involuntary twitching in his crotch. Despite all the hassles and arguments with the madame, the presence of Sumi was starting to give him an erection.
Yes, a sufficient erection for his prick to be pulling hard at his pantsleg, outlining his instrument along the side of his trousers. Sumi saw it and smiled sweetly. The madame saw it and grimaced in disgust.
Yet....
Despite her facial disapproval, the Dane thought he detected a momentary opening of Madame Suzy's eyes, a very small flicker of sexual interest there. He began to think faster, running several ideas through his mind. He really didn't want to fuck the old bitch, yet, the way her eyes kept glancing toward his crotch-as well as toward the door he began to wonder if he might have to do just that in order to get the uncontested title, free and clear, to his Oriental lady love.
"Please," he said to the madame, shyly glancing downward at his burgeoning erection at the same time. "If I might have some tea before I leave ... to help settle my stomach ... you see, I feel slightly ill at the moment ... I would appreciate your understanding of my predicament...."
Madame Suzy tried to conceal a shark's-tooth smile as she said, "All right, we shall drink a cup of cha and then you shall leave, please."
She rang for the tea, and the Dane put his hand in his pocket, helping his prick along. With a little finger-stimulation such as he was doing, by the time the tea arrived his cock was straining at the confines of his trousers, and only a blind person could not have noticed the fact that he now had a monstrous erection.
After the servant had deposited the tea and departed, they all sat down on the floor, squatting around a low table on which the tea and cups were placed. Madame Suzy passed around the cups and poured the tea for them, and the Dane took his pipe out of his mouth long enough to quaff a cup of hot, steaming cha. The warming liquid poured down his throat and he began to feel better already. He patted Sumi on the thigh and asked for another cup of tea; the ladies were slower, more delicate in their drinking habits, and had not yet gotten more than a few sips down their throats.
Nevertheless, the madame poured him another cup.
He raised it high, as if it was a glass of schnapps or Danish beer, and said, "I propose a toast to Madame Suzy, for her business acumen and her fair treatment of all the young ladies in her school. As we say in Denmark-skoall"
The two females raised their tea cups in accordance with his lead.
But, as he raised his cup to his lips....
Well, accidents will happen.
And, in this particular accident, his cup of hot tea seemed to slip, to fall from his hand, and the entire cup of near-boiling cha spilled all over the front of Madame Suzy's pants suit, drenching her from shoulder to crotch.
"Aiiiiiie!" Madame Suzy cried out as the steaming cha scorched her delicate skin and soaked her pants suit. Then she added some untranslatable Japanese obscenities that really caused Sumi to blush crimson, as the madame struggled to get up off the floor and try to dry herself off.
"I am terribly sorry," said the Dane as he got up to help her. "Perhaps you should change your clothes before you catch cold, Madame Suzy. Here ... let me help you ... we must get you dried off first...."
So saying, he quickly moved in close and rubbed his prick against her thighs as he did so.
To make sure she got the message, he rubbed it again, at the same time starting to unbutton her top.
His eyes stared into hers, and his were sex personified, as he simultaneously licked his lips and poised his face directly in front of hers. He watched her eyes; they flickered coldly at first, almost angrily, then they began to warm up, as if flames were being added to fuel, and her eyelids began to open wide and her eyes began to bum with desire as he continued unbuttoning her top and finally removed it entirely.
She was wearing a bra.
He quickly removed his cock from his pants-it was about three-quarters of the way up now-and began to rub it against her bulging belly. She started to moan and mumble, still standing in front of him, her hands at her sides as he swiftly unsnapped her bra and let her pendulous breasts pop-though slop might be a better word-out and dangle against her chest.
Her hands began to go into action.
She reached up to get hold of his prick and started to squeeze it. He could feel her fingernails forcing his foreskin back and her thumb was directly under his scrotum, squeezing his balls as hard as she could.
He grabbed her breasts with both hands.
She gave a real gurgle of delight, and her fat face broke out into a sunny smile. Her tongue snaked out and started to lap at her lips; then she raised her head and started kissing his chest, her teeth tangling with his thick mat of chest hairs.
He let go of her breasts.
He started to take off her bottoms, unbuttoning and unzipping until they fell to the floor.
She was wearing pantyhose.
Before he could start to strip them off, she let go of his cock and did it for herself, quickly and efficiently.
Now-she was naked.
While Sumi just kept sitting on the floor and watching.
Though, not exactly doing nothing.
Seeing the Dane in action stimulated her sexually. She got her hand inside her kimono and started to diddle with her clitoris, feeling her sensitive little organ begin to erect and those familiar feelings beginning to flow throughout her nervous system. She was smiling, watching the Dane taking care of necessary business.
Then....
She realized why he was doing as he was doing. And she decided that she would assist him, in more ways than one, in this mutual endeavor.
She let go of her clit, got up, and rummaged in Madame Suzy's desk until she found some writing paper and a pen. Quickly, she began to write out a "contract." That is, she knew instinctively that the Dane was trying to fuck her boss so that she would sign over exclusive rights to him, as both of them wanted in the first place. So, Sumi was just being one step ahead of the game, getting the "contract" all set up right now.
She continued writing those strange, exotic Japanese characters until she was sure that everything was exactly as it should be. In fact, she even made the final payment only 30,000 yen-about $1,000 American-figuring that, with the Dane really socking it to Madame Suzy, he would "work out" at least the balance he'd originally offered, taking it out in trade, so why pay the old bitch any more? Just enough money to make it seem quite legal, to make the contract stand up in court, should Madame Suzy decide to change her mind and challenge it, for any reason.
Now, the contract written, she turned her attention to the Dane and Madame Suzy.
He had her on the floor and was waving his cock in front of her eyes like a symphony conductor and his baton. Her eyes were following the rapid motions of his instrument, moving from side to side as his dick was also doing. Her mouth was open, her tongue sticking out, her nostrils sniffing; she wanted it all right, he had succeeded in really turning her on, and her own thick clit was palpitating and throbbing with excitement, her aged cunt churning with liquid as he swung his prick back and forth like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.
Then....
He placed it directly against her lips.
She reached out her hands to grab it, her mouth opened to suck it. He was still dressed, and it was just dangling from his open fly like a thick piece of rope. He wasn't even going to bother to undress to let her have it. Why bother? Just let her suck it and fuck it. He had also noticed Sumi writing, and he had figured what she was doing, too. So all he wanted to do was to get Madame Suzy so sexed up that she'd sign it in a second.
And that he was most surely doing.
She was sucking him off now, her mouth opening wide and trying to devour him. His prick was throbbing, his balls were filling his scrotum to bursting; he could feel her stubby fingers clutching all over his crotch, grabbing him here and there. He didn't care; he had a job to do, and he was doing it, and that was all.
He came.
With a generous explosion he could feel his sperm streaming out and filling her mouth to overflowing. She was grunting and gurgling, feeling his thick come filling her mouth, swallowing the stuff almost as fast as he was turning it out. Her teeth tried to bite him, but he barely felt anything, just the fact that he was coming in her open, gaping mouth, and giving her, hopefully, enough satisfaction to get her fucking signature on that piece of paper, and that was all.
Soon, out of sperm, he pulled his shrunken member from her mouth, letting her lick off the last of the come juice after he did so. Her eyes gleamed greedily; she wasn't satisfied, she wanted more.
All right; he'd give her one more time.
But only after she signed the contract.
Sumi came over to them and waved the contract in front of the Dane and Madame Suzy. The Dane could read enough Japanese to see that it was a well-written document, and that it would turn over Sumi's "guardianship" entirely to him. Nice and legal, all the way.
Nodding to Sumi, the Dane took the contract, and the pen she also handed him, and held them in front of Madame Suzy. He said, "Sign this, please, and then we will see."
"See?" she mumbled.
"See about more sex."
She hesitated.
"Do you want some more sex, or do you not?" he said, taking his prick and placing it directly against her lips, then quickly withdrawing it before she even had a chance to taste it.
She nodded, her eyes following the arc of his prick as he swung it away from her mouth.
He held the contract in front of her, the paper concealing his instrument. He let her read it, holding it in front of her face for at least five minutes. Then he handed her the pen, and said, again, in extremely firm tones, "Sign ... now."
She signed.
Then, he signed himself, as a witness, and also had Sumi sign, too.
As soon as the ink was dry the Dane took the contract and handed it back to Sumi, telling her to put it away in her purse for safekeeping, which she did.
Then, the Dane, turning to Madame Suzy, who was still lying on the floor, said, "Well, now that that is settled ... we shall have some more sex for you, Madame Suzy, exactly as I promised."
Only, not quite in the way the older lady had in mind.
The Dane quickly stripped, throwing his clothes on the floor. Then he asked Sumi to strip also, which she did, also piling her clothes next to his.
He asked Sumi to come over and join him, which she did.
He laid down on the floor, next to the madame, and, instead of getting ready to make it with Madame Suzy, he had Sumi kneel beside him and start to fondle his prick.
When Madame Suzy objected, he simply reached over and stuck his thumb into her mouth, telling her to suck it and shut up. His voice was such that he implied that he might knock the shit out of her if she didn't, so she did as he said, and started to suck his thumb, her lips clamping tight and her tongue tickling its tip, her moist mouth membranes going into immediate action.
With his other hand, he stuck that thumb into her cunt.
His fingers began to play with her clit and his thumb started burrowing as deeply inside her cunt as it could. She could feel him working her over and her sexual impulses were coming to the fore, her clit trembling and her cunt starting to chum out some joy juice as he carefully but strongly worked her over, feeling her aged, buxom body respond.
He really didn't care; he was giving her some goodies because he had said he would, but that was all.
Meanwhile, Sumi had her hands on his prick and was carefully fondling it between her fingers. She had the foreskin back and was manipulating the glans with such superb delicacy that he could feel it growing inch after inch, the more she stroked and fondled it.
At the same time, she was kissing him all over his body, her lips touching his skin, her tongue gently caressing him as she did so. He began to feel his own sexual desires increasing by the second and he could hear Sumi sort of singing to herself as she touched and fondled him.
It didn't take long for his prick to become completely erect.
As soon as it was, he told Sumi to get on top of him and get ready for some fine fucking.
Madame Suzy, as soon as she saw Sumi start to climb on top of him, tried to protest. But, with the Dane's hands taking care of business on her body, he held her down firmly and kept her in her place, also adding comments to the effect that she'd better keep her fucking mouth shut and be content with what he was giving her, or else.
Meanwhile, Sumi was lowering herself on top of the Dane, and got her clit right against the tip of his cock.
She felt those sexual tremors roaring throughout her nervous system as she rubbed her clit against his cock, feeling the fine response. She continued this for a few minutes, her body shivering in ecstasy, then moved slightly and got her cunt lips against his cock.
She started to lower herself, feeling her lips open and his prick began to slide along that oh-so-familiar passage, penetrating her all the way back as she kept going down on him, inch by inch, in one slow, steady motion that was most exquisite in its dynamics and almost like a dance of love. He could feel himself entering her and his own excitement increased, his testicles growing inside their protective scrotum, and he was even beginning to perspire, despite the fact Sumi was doing most of the work.
As for the madame, she was squirming and shuddering as the Dane's thumbs were doing their job. She was practically biting his thumb, but he didn't care, he hardly felt that. She was starting to go into orgasm, coming all over his other thumb, her haunches jiggling wildly and her buttocks pounding the floor as she vainly struggled to get up and get something more than just his thumbs into her.
Sumi was coming now, too.
Her beautiful body was vibrating in the joys of sexual stimulation as her own orgasms got going. She could feel every lovely inch of the Dane's dick inside her, and she was squirming and squealing with delight as she felt his prick massaging her membranes.
Madame Suzy was coming like a waterfall, drenching the Dane's thumb, her teeth trying to sever his other thumb as she kept biting at him. He yanked that thumb out suddenly and clamped his hand over her mouth, indicating extreme disapproval with her behavior. Then, with his other thumb, he really jabbed it inside her cunt so strongly she could almost feel it coming out her asshole, just telling her in his own way that he was giving it to her in his own way, and if she didn't like it, that was just her tough shit, not his.
Then he turned his attention to Sumi again.
She really had his cock and balls going at it, and he was just about ready to join her, feeling her face brushing against his chest and her lips smacking against his skin. He waited until she was just beginning a superb orgasm, and then, his control right on top of everything....
He came.
She jerked back and arched her back as his steady stream of sperm poured into her pussy ... and so on ... ad infinitum....
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
In early spring, at a location just thirty minutes from downtown Nagoya, a fertility festival takes place at a small place of worship called the Tagata Shrine. It happens every year at pretty much the same time, and its purpose is to honor the phallus as the origin of life. In its garden there grows a sacred tree; under this tree, if a child is conceived during the festival, it will be considered a gifted child, certain to obtain much in life and to go far in pursuit of earthly happiness.
In the afternoon a parade takes place, consisting of a procession of the shrine's treasures-all magnificent phalluses contributed by grateful parents (and perhaps grateful non-parents as well). From a one-inch "miniature" phallus to a twenty-foot "telephone pole" sized penis, the artifacts contributed range in size and selection. On the grounds of the shrine there are also a selection of "toy" phalluses (with secret compartments containing either messages or other penises concealed therein) and picture postcards of the kind whose explicitness would hardly allow their passage through the normal postage channels of any other country (expect possibly Denmark).
So it was only natural that since the Dane knew of this annual event, and since Sumi had been there previously and wished to accompany him at this time and show him around, that the Dane and Sumi would attend. In a way, it was almost an anniversary, for they had been together for nearly a year now, and, as they say, things were working out quite well.
Sumi was handling her own geisha jobs and she was getting some very excellent bookings from the local wheels, as well as other assignments from the length and breadth of Japan itself. They were living in Tokyo now, which she did not like as well, but which she was willing to stay in as long as the Dane stayed with her. They had both taken time off from their jobs to attend the Fertility Festival, and were looking forward to perhaps participating in the parade as well.
For the Dane had brought along a device which he had been working on during his spare time (what little, with Sumi and sex, that he had). It was an electronic device made from a basic design of his company, yet it was distinctly his own, for he had adapted the basic situation to his own sexual proclivities, and was anxious to have a viable demonstration of his own electronic genius on display for all to see (though he hadn't exactly told Sumi about that because he didn't want her to get shy on him and maybe cancel out).
They were at the shrine, looking over the postcards, chuckling at one that showed a woman riding a phallus shaped like an ICBM missile (space screwing?) and another that depicted a man with two of them making it with two cooperating females simultaneously.
It was still morning, plenty of time for the parade, and they were wandering around the garden, laughing at the phallus-shaped trees surrounding the shrine and the cock-like construction of everything. There were the usual coterie of old ladies grinning in delight and old men chuckling with glee-though not sniggering guiltily, as Westerners might do, but genuinely enjoying the spectacle, as Orientals would definitely be. Some Western tourists, naturally, were on hand, their Japanese cameras and Instamatics (for those too cheap to buy quality equipment) clicking away, the men making obvious and loud jokes, the women pretending to be embarrassed and put upon.
Those kind of people, though, turned off both the Dane and Sumi, and they shortly left the shrine and drove into the nearby village for a delightful Japanese lunch of tempura and sake and seaweed. Then they retired to their ryokan room for a fast fuck before the festival parade was to begin.
They were both wearing Japanese clothing, he in happi coat and slacks, she in kimono and obi, which they quickly dispensed with. He got into the lotus position and she climbed onto him from the front, letting her tiny clit rub against his cock, getting him hard but fast.
He started kissing her, his lips against her, his tongue forcing open her sweet lips and investigating the condition of her tongue and mouth membranes inside. She tongued him back and he could taste the sweet flavor of her mouth as he drove his tongue deep inside her, almost all the way back into her throat. He could smell her perfume and perspiration combined as he did so, while her clit was erecting as quickly as her nipples, the latter now digging like pins into his flesh.
She could feel her clit getting those beautiful vibrations again, and she was trembling from top to toe as she felt his cock getting stiff from her ministrations. She began to move herself slightly upward, and now his cock was resting against her cunt lips. She was still kissing him back quite passionately as he felt her cunt lips opening and nudging his cock, urging it inside.
Well, he didn't take all that long to get fully erect, anyway, so he got his prick moving into her pussy without further concern. It was fully erect, and he began to move just the slightest, letting her arch her back forward and move into him. He could feel her lips opening and her membranes expanding, and now those thick, juicy joints were slurping around his prick and pulling it inside.
"Ahhh," he sighed, feeling the hardness of his cock against the softness of her cunt.
"Oooh," she cried, feeling him all the way inside her.
She started to rock him, her body moving into an arc in his direction, her haunches vibrating and her back arching, her hands moving up and down his back and her fingers counting his vertebrae one by one. She was not one to waste unnecessary time, either, her Western heritage this time getting her tuned in and turned on but fast.
She started coming within minutes, her beautiful fluids flowing and her pussy membranes expanding and moistening his prick as she did so. Her orgasmic intensity increased with each passing moment and her cunt was clutching his cock like a feminine fist, trying to get it exploding so she could squeeze every drop of delicious come out of it. He felt her really working out on him, and he kept on kissing her, his own hands gripping her firmly by her soft, rounded buttocks, squeezing out fistfuls of fine young flesh as he did so.
Perspiring passionately, she went into orgasm after orgasm, and this time, to really get her going, he waited until she had just completed one before letting loose his load.
When he came, he blasted off quickly and decisively, hearing her moan in frustration because she would have to get a new one going in order to match him. He could feel her straining to start coming again, and he felt his own come juice pouring out in a steady stream inside her, the pressure really getting stronger and stronger with each splitting second.
Finally, she got herself going again, and they climaxed together, just before he was about to run out of juice. She felt his final efforts spurring her on, and she poured out a monumental orgasm that left both of them spent and drenched.
After they uncoupled, they just lay together, side by side, on the tatami mats, barely moving a muscle.
When they had recovered sufficient strength to take a quick shower-but, no long, lingering Japanese bath this time-they got dressed in the same clothes and got ready to join the Fertility Festival parade.
The parade started out from downtown Nagoya, and marched all the way to the shrine. It was composed of floats, fantastic in their sexual and phallic descriptions, and some of them even had, like a Rose Bowl type of situation, live people (especially female) riding along and waving to the crowds lining the streets and perhaps doing certain things and making certain movements that could not help but add to the phallic symbolism of the entire festival.
The Dane also carried a large package, about two or three feet in length, with him.
That would be his contribution to the festival.
It was, as previously mentioned, a particularly interesting electronic device he had put together, and he planned on unveiling it very shortly.
Sumi nudged him.
"Look, Dane-san, I think that is one of the most unusual entries here."
He looked.
It was a float created in the image of a huge pleasure ocean liner, with several tall, slender smokestacks.
Only they were not exactly smokestacks.
They were phalluses, right down to the apple-in-its-fist imagery of a prick. And, what was pouring forth not smoke but what looked like actual sperm.
Not only that, but there were a couple of nubile Oriental maidens manning the entire float, dressed in sailor suits. At least, the bottom half of them was dressed.
They were also fondling and cuddling, hugging and kissing the phallic smokestacks as if they wanted to fuck them, right in front of the crowd.
The Dane chuckled and took a good, deep puff on his pipe. He almost wished that he had had a special phallus-shaped pipe made for this occasion. Except that might look as if he was sucking cock; and he was hardly the type to come on like that, much less do that.
"That is a most interesting float," he said to Sumi.
He pointed at a float depicting a battlefield scene, with multitudinous cannons supposedly pointing at the enemy. Only, in this case, the "enemy" was, again, a couple of exquisite Japanese ladies, and the cannons were phallic-shaped and pouring out not smoke and gunpowder but come juice, or what looked suspiciously like it.
These Japanese, they are not only excellent imitators, but magnificent innovators as well ... thought the Dane.
"Do you know any of the groups or people who put together those floats?" he asked her.
"Let me see...." She glanced down the line of floats until she spotted one about six or seven away from their frontal view, then added, "Yes, I think that one belongs to a friend of mine. When it gets closer, I will inquire."
When the float in question was nearly in front of them, Sumi detached herself from his side and walked over to it, chatting briefly with one of the girls riding it. She giggled in recognition of Sumi, nodded her head, and let out several "hais!" to indicate, yes, everything was copasetic-in Japanese, of course.
Sumi quickly returned and told the Dane that the float in question was indeed sponsored by a friend of hers, and that the girl had invited them to ride along, if they wished.
Eagerly clutching his mystery package, the Dane definitely wished.
So, as the float came up to them, it slowed down sufficiently so that the Dane and Sumi could climb aboard.
It was a fairly interesting float, as far as subject matter was concerned.
It depicted a space station, such as those in Texas or Florida, equipped with space ship paraphernalia and the appropriate technical equipment to launch a few into space, or so it appeared. But as far as the actual space vehicles themselves were concerned ... well, you can certainly figure out what they were shaped like or most accurately resembled.
The Dane looked around.
They were out of town now, but the crowds lining up along the road were still as numerous as before. As he glanced down the highway leading toward the Tagata Shrine, he could see no diminution of the number of spectators. It seemed as if half the population of Japan was on hand to celebrate National Fertility Day, or whatever they might have called it in Japanese.
Sumi reached her hand around his waist and her fingers found their way into his crotch. She rubbed across his fly a couple of times and he could feel his prick stirring to life.
He hunched his back so that he could feel her breasts pressing against him, and chuckled softly to himself.
It seemed an appropriate time to prepare his package and have some amusing moments, both with Sumi and any other girls who might like to participate. He would have preferred to wait until the actual arrival at the shrine, but, if nothing else, the erotic ambiance of the surroundings was getting him hot, and he felt like fucking around right now rather than later.
So....
He carefully removed Sumi's grip from his crotch and opened up his package.
Sumi gasped.
The other girl stared (she was a short, slender Oriental lady of strong natural endowments, and she was only a few points less beautiful than Sumi, and that would be close enough for any male who was not deaf, dumb or blind).
What the Dane had created was....
An electronic phallus.
But much different from the one he had previously used on Sumi.
For this one had miniature arms and legs, so that it could "ride" its intended female destination while it was fucking her, all at the same time.
The Dane pressed a button on the control panel he pulled from his pocket, and the thing started walking straight toward the Japanese girl on the float.
She screamed as if afraid, and tried to duck away. But the device was rather quick in its movements, and before she could jump off the float it had grabbed her left leg and, like some strange phallic insect, it started climbing up her leg, heading straight for the girl's cunt. Of course, she was wearing a kimono, but the device just kept on pulling that fabric off her body until, within seconds, it had stripped her naked and was just about ready to enter when....
The girl fainted.
The crowd, of which only a few had noticed the event, was now suddenly having its attention called to this event by the fact of the girl fainting. A couple of guys climbed on the float and tried to revive her. Then, noticing the strange phallic device now entering her pussy, they could not help but smile; one, in fact, started laughing, until he suddenly realized that, instead of the electronic dildo getting inside the girl, he could be doing that himself.
Angrily, he tried to pull the device off.
The Dane, meanwhile, had put the device on "automatic pilot." That is, it was free to make its own decisions, so to speak, and to act or react accordingly.
It did.
It punched the guy right in the balls.
He gulped and gurgled and backed away, holding his aching crotch. The other fellow was smarter; he whipped out his prick and placed it against the girl's lips so that if she came to she could start to lick it at once.
Meanwhile, the device was digging away, boring inside her cunt, filling up her sweet sexual hole so eagerly that she revived, moaning and sighing, feeling the dildo really starting to fuck the living shit out of her.
And, as she did so, she naturally opened her mouth.
And the guy from the crowd slipped it to her at the same time.
He was so hot that he was just about three-quarters erect, and the girl, feeling his cock in her mouth-as soon as she had opened her lips, he had slipped it inside-instinctively started sucking away, her eyes growing wide, her nostrils flaring with lust while the guy eagerly fed her all of him he could find.
Sumi nudged the Dane and said something about helping the poor girl out. But the Dane told her that it would be better to let nature take its course, since the device was only doing what any intelligent man would be doing in the first place, so what the fuck's the problem?
Well, she didn't seem to like that answer, and her Western heritage flared up. Call it a touch of women's lib, or whatever; at any rate, she did a very un-Oriental thing.
She punched him in the stomach.
The Dane groaned, his mouth opening in amazement, and he dropped his pipe.
Now-that really pissed him off!
His pipe dropped over the side of the float and was immediately lost in the crowd, which was also observing the activities with considerable interest.
"My pipe ... my favorite pipe...." the Dane cried, as much in anguish as in anger as he realized that his favorite pipe was probably lost forever.
He grabbed Sumi and started to tear her kimono off her lovely body, piece by piece. He ripped the sheer silken material into dozens of torn fragments, and while she tried to stop him, beating her fists against him-she was really angry herself, but he was cool enough to keep his crotch out of range-she was no match for his superior strength, and it was less than a minute before she was naked, her Japanese clothing in tatters at her feet.
A sumo wrestler, weighing about three hundred pounds, was so excited at Sumi's situation that he tried to climb aboard the float. Whether he wanted to help her out, or help himself in, was not known, for he almost capsized the float with his excessive poundage, and the Dane had to kick him in the teeth to get rid of him.
Meanwhile, the guy with the aching balls, his prick apparently out of action for the time being, was busily licking the ears of the girl who was still being fucked by the electronic dildo, and at the same time she was really sucking the other fellow's cock to perfection. She could feel all three phallic things inside her simultaneously, and she was exploding all over with orgasmic lust, her cunt running out its lovely liquid, her back arching and her haunches vibrating as her entire body shuddered and twisted in sexual satiation, while the guy with the aching balls suddenly came into his pants and the other guy came into her mouth and the dildo drove hard enough inside her cunt to make her feel it was trying to nail her to the floor of the float.
As for the Dane, he was busily stripping off his clothes, feeling like fucking. Not angry, not anguished; just wanting to join in the Fertility Festival his own way.
But Sumi apparently didn't dig the scene anymore.
She tried to jump over the side of the float and the Dane had to grab her by her lovely long hair and pull her back on board, caveman style. As she felt the firmness of his grip yanking at her hair and the pressure and weight of her body being dragged back on the float, she suddenly began to realize that this was exactly the kind of a man she needed-one who would treat her with strength and firmness when she needed it, and who wouldn't take shit from her or anyone else, regardless of sex.
In fact, she was now reversing her mood entirely; she really wanted him to stay, not leave, to really make her feel like a women, as he had always done.
Yet she also knew that he probably wanted some token resistance at this point, in order to make him feel more like one of his conquering ancestors, the Vikings of old.
So, as soon as he had dragged her back on the float, she began to pound his chest and arms, her fingers balled into fists, until he pushed her against one of the phallic space vehicles and, opening the door-yes, they were quite authentic, at least on the outside-pushed her inside and climbed in after her, but leaving the door open, for whatever reason he must have had for so doing.
Meanwhile....
The crowd, restless enough already, was getting out of hand.
Several of the more lusty men had climbed aboard a few other floats, and the girls were not exactly repelling the boarding party. Matter of fact, they rather felt like fucking too, so a variety of combinations-not all of them twosomes, by any means-were now in the process of forming, and the parade itself was almost grinding to a stop as dozens of guys (and a few girls, too) were now engaged in getting better acquainted with the girls on various floats.
A convention, or at least a large group, of rather aged gentlemen, not being able to get it up so quickly anymore, were busily engaged in allowing some young ladies to lick at their cocks, sucking them if necessary, one by one, in order to give them at least some sexual satisfaction.
Another group of guys, these a good two generations younger, had one especially willing girl spread-eagled on her float, while all of them were sticking and kicking it to her. In each of her hands she was clutching a cock, squeezing them until they gushed forth their golden juice; up her asshole as well as inside her cunt, a cock was jammed securely, and she was coming like a waterfall, going into orgasm after orgasm with such force she was almost shaking the float apart; in her mouth, yet another cock was being sucking and licked, jabbing her almost all the way back into her throat, until the owner of said cock came into her mouth, ejaculating with crazed frenzy; and, in each ear, yet more cocks were being exploded, until she was feeling, shall we say, shell (or cock) shocked right out of her fucking mind.
Some girls, it seemed, did not much like the idea of their guys running off on them. So there were floats where the girls were trying to drag their guys off the float girls, but with little success. Until one more daring-and perhaps less restrained Japanese then the rest flipped off her clothes and flung herself on the nearest stud she could find. Since she was rather well-endowed, and hardly held back by inhibition, the stud returned her gesture with a mouthful of come, for he was indeed hot to trot, and while he was coming in her voraciously sucking mouth, another guy got off a float girl and rammed his cock inside her cunt, giving her two for good measure.
Meanwhile, one might wonder....
Just where were the forces of authority while this mini-riot was taking place?
Well....
It had taken a bit of time to alert them, but here they came, full-uniformed and waving clubs in front of them, indicating that they meant business. The chief, a pudgy, middle-aged man with thick glasses and a thin mustache, was leading the charge, pushing and slugging his way through the crowd, trying to get at, apparently, the Dane and Sumi, for he had received word that it was indeed those two who had caused the extreme disgrace to befall his beloved Nagoya of having such an altercation take place on his law-and-order territory.
Of course, he could not expect that another of the float girls, upon seeing him brandishing such a huge, phallic-shaped police club, would want to make it with that club itself.
She threw herself into his path, and grabbed hold of his club just as he was swinging it at her pretty face. She shoved it into her mouth and, still holding onto it-the chief was trying to pull it away, but she was a strong wench herself-she started sucking at it, her eyes opening in sheer pleasure and her lips closing so tightly over it that the startled chief, feeling his own personal club (his cock, of course) starting to erect, if not eject, suddenly changed his mind and seemed to forget all about business as, with his other hand, he unzipped his fly, whipped out his prick and started to claw and paw at the girl, who quickly slipped one hand of her own to the chief's dick and getting it right against her cunt.
She and the chief tumbled to the crowd, the chief still on top; she managed to get his burgeoning erection about halfway inside before a few others on the police force, emulating their leader, joined in and started sticking it to her in her asshole and ears, and even a few more ambitious and imaginative young guys bucking for promotion began to slip their cocks under her arms, thus giving it to her from all directions and just about into every orifice except her nostrils, except that a couple of high-school kids, seeing what was happening, had the bright idea to try those two tiny holes and....
Now, back to the Dane and Sumi.
With the door of the artificial space vehicle still half open, he had her backed into a corner, her body almost in a 45 degree angle, her legs spread wide apart at a sort of curving corner, while he was biting at her nose, his teeth digging into the soft tip, and his hands gripping her by the shoulders. She had one hand underneath his balls, gripping so solidly he was almost starting to scream in agony, and her other hand was grabbing hold of his chest hair and holding on for dear life.
His prick was erecting longer and stronger by the second, but he knew he had to break her grip on his nuts pretty fucking fast, so he pushed himself forward, bit her even harder-she yelped, letting go of his sagging scrotum-and yanked her hair hard.
Now they were again untangled from each other, and their knock-down drag-out fighting spree had quickly changed into a kiss-and-make-up (and out) mood.
He pulled her away from her comer and braced his back against the door entrance so that most of the people in the streets-those who were not otherwise occupied with their own sexual solutions-could observe and take notes, should they so desire. He got her voluptuous body pressed firmly against his front, her erectile nipples biting into his chest, her burgeoning breasts pressing firmly against his flesh as his hands slipped around her waist and got a firm flesh-digging grip on her hot little haunches.
Her clit was rubbing against his naval and he could feel it was erect as a pin, pricking him. He moved his cock against her cunt lips, and he could feel her spreading her legs and gripping him, seis-sors-style, around his waist, as he started to jab his cock inside her cunt.
She gasped, singing some obscure Japanese song as she felt his thick, firm prick sliding upwards along the liquid-greased membranes of her palpitating pussy. She felt him enter her like a truck barrelling down a superhighway at 90 MPH; he was in, jammed inside all the way, bracing at her back and moving his prick so that it could touch every square inch of her pussy membranes with each movement.
Immediately she exploded into orgasm, feeling those electric thrills gripping her, her body shivering and shuddering, twisting itself into an exclamation point of joy.
He rode her like a bucking (or fucking) bronco, feeling every nuance of her orgasmic explosions in his own body. His balls filled his scrotum toward rupture, but he held back, wanting to really let her have it on the upturn, just about all the way into her crest, and when he felt she was really ready for it....
He came.
And, as his sperm sprayed her, she knew for sure that it was no artificial phallus fucking her.
No-the Dane's dick was the real thing.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Dane, dressed in a dark wide-lapel one-button suit with one vent, and Sumi, wearing an equally conservative pants suit, were at the Tokyo airport, preparing to board their flight for Copenhagen.
Not for a visit.
For a residency there.
For, gaijin that he was, he had made one mistake, the supreme one, in connection with the frenzied happenings at the Fertility Festival. He had fucked up, in more ways than one, by playing his electronic gimmick games one time too many. The uproar the Dane had caused in Nagoya had caused the entire city and surrounding area to "lose face," and even with his prestigious job, fluent Japanese and high-powered connections, that had not been nearly enough. No, the central government had said "Go" and he had had no choice but to acquiesce to their rightful demands.
He liked Japan; he would miss it, truly so.
However, he had several offers of employment from Danish technical firms, who, with the typically droll sense of humor indigenous to that country, had indicated that a mind capable of creating such an electronic fucking machine would be equally capable of creating other, more commercial devices for their particular concerns. He could, should he so desire, go into business for himself as well; with the worldwide press reports of his activities, he would not lack for contacts, or future customers.
So, what the fuck-he was on his way home.
And Sumi, though she did not have to-she had not really lost face in the accepted Oriental sense because she was only half-Japanese anyway, supposedly corrupted beyond redemption by her Western heritage-had decided that her Caucasian background was keeping her more closely attached to the Dane than she'd originally thought possible. In short, he was the best fucking man she'd ever fucked, he was leaving, she didn't want to leave him, therefore, she was going with him.
Their flight was called.
He looked at her with perhaps a touch of melancholy in his cool blue eyes, and said, "Are you sorry to be leaving your country? Just say the word, and I will understand if you wish to change your mind and stay on."
Her soft brown eyes held him in her gaze as she replied, "What would I do here? Return to Madame Suzy? No, I shall go with you, it is better that way."
"Thank you, Sumi."
"Thank you, Dane-san."
They boarded.
The stewardess showed them to their seats. As if considering them a "disgraced" couple, they had the last seats, next to the tail assembly, in the economy section, just a few steps away from the galley and the washrooms. Though the row was three seats wide, no one else was sharing it with them. Hardly.
They sat down, and after the plane had taken off they asked for some sake. The stewardess, a rather attractive girl with a crescent mouth, brought them a flask and two cups, and casually commented that she had been in the crowd at the Fertility Festival.
Sumi smiled nonchalantly; the Dane was wondering what he should say to that when the stewardess said, so softly that the other passengers could not hear, "I thought it was fun, I had quite a few affairs myself that day. I really thought it was so utsukushii. A sex festival should have some sex with it, is that not so?"
Sumi smiled and the Dane chuckled, wondering if she was trying to suggest something to him. He would not normally mind; but there was Sumi to consider. So he simply replied, "well, should I ever return on a visit, I shall try to fly with you again and then we can reminisce about our activities on that day."
She bowed very ceremonially and departed.
The Dane poured some sake for them. He raised his cup and she raised hers. He said, "Skoal!"
"Skoall" and she replied with the Japanese equivalent.
They drank.
They kept on drinking until it was dark. Then they had an exquisite Japanese dinner; not long after, the lights were turned out and most of the passengers settled back to sleep.
Except two.
"Do you think we can find room enough to fuck?" the Dane suggested.
"We can always find room to fuck. If we can find the time, the place is no problem," she replied, sounding almost Western in her philosophy as she did so.
He smiled. He had been thinking of her pussy, warm and wet and waiting for him. He had been thinking of her so fucking much he had not even puffed his pipe since they had gotten on board.
His new pipe.
The stem of which was shaped like a prick, the bowl of which was shaped like a pussy. He had had a well-known woodcarver make him one as a commemoration of the Fertility Festival. Smoking was fine-but fucking was finer.
They pulled back the armrests on their seats and he found a blanket and threw it over both of them. She began to slip out of her clothes and he did the same. It was not long before they were bare assed under the blanket, her soft golden skin rubbing against his fair pale flesh.
He could feel her breasts squashing against his chest. Her nipples were hard, taut and steel spikes; her clitoris was like a bullet, probing his stomach. He patted her ass and she snuggled closer to him. She could feel the growing force of his cock rubbing against her cunt lips, and she was glad.
She leaned over to stick her tongue into his ear.
They way she started tonguing him, he almost jumped; her touch was subtle and erotic in the extreme, and he could feel his cock responding, growing rapidly, his balls bouncing around in their scrotum in a fever pitch of excitement. Her hands began to rub up and down against his spine, her fingernails playing melodies on each vertebrae, as if it was an xylophone.
He was lying flat on his back, she on top of him.
That was becoming his favorite position.
Her cunt lips opened and he could feel she was wet enough for entry. He hunched his back and jabbed upward; she felt him sliding inside as smoothly as a bullet into the chamber of a gun. She kept quiet, not wanting to wake any other passengers, as he entered her, feeling him filling her to the utmost.
She started going into orgasm, and he could feel her body palpitating with lovely lust. He knew he would be coming soon, and he was glad. Though Copenhagen was cold, they would always be warm and willing ... together ... yes ... always....
Fucking ... day ... fucking ... night ... fucking ... right....
