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From: r_rivers@cryogen.com (Rivers)
Subject: Story: A Journey to the East, Part 5/7 [M/F, M/f, Sex, Japan, Horticulture]
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[The author wishes to apologize for the delay in 
posting part 5.  A lengthy illness and other things precluded 
the completion of this installment in a timely manner.]

This story contains graphic descriptions of sex and should not 
be read by anyone under 18, or anyone offended by such 
material.  Blah Blah Blah...

The story is divided into seven parts, of which this is the 
third, describing a week-long stay in Japan.  Readers only 
interested in graphic descriptions of sex acts should probably 
wait for some of the later parts, or better yet, skip this story 
entirely.

The author does not mind constructive comments.  I suppose: 
"This is a piece of crap!" is constructive on some level, but 
what I have in mind would be more along the lines of 
technical pointers or anything that might help future offerings 
attain a higher level of craft.  Of course compliments are 
always welcome.


Richard Rivers
2/98





An inch thick stack of papers lay before me, revisions from 
Mr Ogawa.  Alongside lay a terse note from Megumi: 'Mr 
Ogawa is not pleased with your latest work.  Incorporate his 
suggestions and deliver them to me when you have finished.'  
I squeezed my eyes closed feeling alone and for the first time 
unsure of myself.  These people make me feel like an 
outsider, I thought.  I'm just a worthless employee to them, a 
foreigner...

My eyes snapped open again.  I had been up most of the 
night.  Weariness threatened to overwhelm me, weariness and 
the image of Satomi gently rolling her shoulders, her robe 
falling and folding about her waist to reveal her tiny white 
breasts.  Whenever I closed my eyes I saw her again, so shy, 
so soft, seductive in her modest way.  I couldn't believe that 
she had offered herself to me; it had to be a dream, but 
closing my eyes brought back the all-too-vivid image of her 
naked body, too real for any dream and too persistent to let 
me rest.  

The tone of Megumi's note carried an ominous undercurrent, 
as if she were signaling more than just the disapproval of Mr 
Ogawa. Yesterday she had given no sign that she knew I had 
been with Satomi...but surely she had heard the young girl's 
fleeing footsteps; the spot on the bench next to me must still 
have been warm when she sat down exactly where the young 
girl had been.  Mentioning nothing about Satomi Megumi 
had greeted me warmly and commented on the beauty of the 
day.  Still, as we talked I wondered how she could not have 
known that Satomi had been with me and why she chose not 
to acknowledge it.  The curt note and her absence this 
morning only made me more suspicious that she knew 
something had happened.  I wondered if she had been spying 
on the two of us, seeing all that had transpired...

***

Mr Ogawa himself paid me a visit that afternoon.  I was still 
hard at work when he slipped into the library.

"Don't get up Mr Sato," he said hurriedly, his tone apologetic.  
"I am sorry to disturb you this way.  I see you have all of my 
latest revisions."  He nodded to the stack on my desk.

"Yes sir," I answered.  His sudden entrance had taken me of 
guard.  "I am doing my best with it, but I wanted to ask you 
about a few of these details..."  I started fishing through the 
papers.

He stopped me.  "Mr Sato, I am not here to discuss the work, 
not directly in any case," he said glancing out into the garden.  
"I am content with the procedure we have used so far.  For the 
most part I have been happy with your work.  However," he 
lowered his voice, "you seem to have lost some of your 
concentration, your focus is not quite the same.  Miss 
Yoshino informs me that you appear tired.  I hope the 
accommodations I have provided meet with your approval."

"Of course Mr Ogawa," I answered, "everything is fine here, 
very good in fact.  I am not used to working in this way: all 
the re-writes, the changes...I don't mean to criticize you in 
any way.  The fault is all mine if the work is not up to your 
standards..."

"I am glad to hear that you are comfortable," he said.  "But I 
am not talking about the re-writes.  I would ask the same of 
anyone working for me.  I know I can be difficult: that is my 
way.  What I am referring to is more subtle.  The quality of 
your work is not what it could be.  I would not have 
specifically asked for you if I had felt you to be incapable of 
the task, but I sense that you are distracted, preoccupied.  You 
make simple mistakes, then follow them up with something 
of brilliance.  It is almost as if you are throwing it off, as an 
after thought.  Your mind is elsewhere.  You are talented 
enough to get by with the residual energy, but that is not what 
I want from you Mr Sato.  I don't want the left over energy, 
the overflow, I want the best effort that you have to offer.  
That is what I am paying you for."

"I am sorry Mr Ogawa," I said, embarrassed.  I looked down 
at the desk before me.  His stern tone put me in my place.  I 
thought over the work I had done in the last two days: he was 
right.  Among his suggestions were routine corrections, 
things a student might have missed, but that someone of my 
skill should never have let pass.  Some of my work had been 
good, just as he had said, but it was almost as if it had been 
an accident, as if I had stumbled blindly across the right 
solutions to the problems he posed, and having to redo much 
of that work in a different way was taxing me more than it 
should have.

"No," he said gently.  "Don't be sorry.  I did not intend my 
visit to be merely for the purpose of criticizing.  I want to help 
you do better work."  He paused, looking down at his folded 
hands, a gesture that fleetingly reminded me of his daughter.  
"This is a restful place," he said, turning his head towards the 
windows overlooking the garden.  "It is restful, still there 
are...distractions here."  He paused.  "I know something about 
it, old as I am."  His voice sounded almost wistful.  "So much 
beauty, such an atmosphere, it is a pity to be here alone.  He 
looked at me questioningly: "You are single, if I recall?"  

"Yes I am," I answered.  I wondered how much he knew or 
suspected about what had happened in the last few days.  Not 
about his daughter--we wouldn't be having just a congenial 
talk if he knew about that--but perhaps Megumi had said 
something to him, or maybe through intuition he could sense 
what I felt.

"Well," he looked at me with a penetrating eye.  "There are 
temptations here, temptations that are not for you..."  He 
spoke sharply, waiting for his words to sink in before 
lowering his voice and continuing.  "I will not say more...But 
I know what it is to travel, to be far from home, alone.  I 
think I can...ease your stay here a little.  After all, I want you 
at your best, your most alert."  He reached into his pocket and 
drew out a white piece of paper, not much larger than a 
playing card, that dangled from a long string.  "I can arrange 
some companionship for you if you wish," he said with a faint 
smile as his eyes wandered away from me, out the windows to 
the garden.  

He lay the card on the desk between us.  "Don't say anything," 
he said, as if to himself.  "It is embarrassing, I know.  If you 
wish it, simply hang the card outside your door when you 
retire tonight.  You will have more than pleasant dreams, I 
assure you, and tomorrow I will expect renewed vitality and 
better concentration from you."

After he left me I stared for a long time at the simple white 
card he left on my desk, wondering what it could possibly 
mean.

***  

The day grew hot; a shimmering hazy air hung over the pond, 
thick and humid.  I walked slowly, trying not to break a 
sweat, skirting the edge of the pond, crossing the stone bridge 
and climbing the path that led steeply up the hill behind the 
guest house.  At the top of the hill the path faded into the 
forest.  I headed deeper into the trees away from the guest 
house across the soft mossy ground.

After my meeting with Mr Ogawa a strange feeling of 
anticipation came over me and I couldn't wait for evening to 
come.  A good strenuous hike seemed like the best way to 
make the remainder of the day pass quickly.  I felt in my 
pocket for the white card and wondered what experience it 
would lead to when I put it on my door that night.

The sound of running water drew me onward.  I knew the 
stream that fed the ponds issued from somewhere above and I 
set my goal to locate it.  The ground began to rise more 
steeply again and large moss covered rocks jutted from the 
forest floor more frequently until I found myself climbing 
over them, stepping from stone to stone.  The sound of water 
grew stronger until at last I came across the stream running 
in a narrow chasm between rock walls.  Having reached  my 
goal with greater ease than I expected I decided to follow the 
course of the water up stream to see where it might lead.

Now the way became more difficult, the rocks lay piled 
steeply against each other and I picked my way carefully 
along the bank.  The forest grew thickly shading the ground 
and making the water look dark and cold.  Ahead of me a 
steep face rose, a small cliff perhaps fifteen feet high.  The 
stream poured over the edge in a small but noisy waterfall.

I stopped to look at the water pouring over the mossy cliff 
face to enjoy the view.  It seemed that the way ahead had 
become impassable.  Before turning back I decided to sit and 
rest a while, taking in the view and listening to the calming 
rush of the water.  As I studied the waterfall and the cliff face 
over which it spilled I became aware of what appeared to be a 
series of stone steps cut into the rock.  Covered with moss, 
they at first seemed to be a natural feature mimicking a work 
of man, but their regularity and uniform spacing emerged to 
my perception the longer I looked at them.  After a while I 
became convinced that this was indeed a stairway leading up 
the cliff, ancient and unused perhaps, but still in good enough 
shape to allow me to continue on my way.

I set off at once, my curiosity aroused.  If the steps were 
indeed man made they might lead to something of interest 
above.  Once I had picked my way over the rocks to the base 
of the stairway the going was easy: the stairs were wide and 
smooth, moss covered but still completely passable.  At the 
top they terminated on a rocky ledge running along the edge 
of the low cliff.  The trees and dense undergrowth of the 
forest began again as if unbroken.  Here the stream had 
swelled into a large pond; the water held by a low rocky dam 
that channeled it over the waterfall.  

I began walking along the edge of the pond, continuing my 
direction upstream.  The far side had a more grassy sloping 
edge, almost manicured in appearance.  As I looked across 
the water I became aware of movement in the trees, a figure 
in white appearing and disappearing as it glided through the 
forest.  Presently the figure emerged onto the grassy bank 
between the trees and the water.  Satomi.  She had her head 
cocked sideways and was twisting her hair, wringing water 
out of it.  I could see the silvery droplets falling and her wet 
hair glistening in the sunlight. She slowly meandered along 
the water's edge before finding a spot and sitting down.

As she sat down Satomi noticed me standing across the water 
from her.  Calmly, as if discovering me watching her came as 
no surprise at all, she cupped her hands to her mouth and 
called to me.  "Mr Saaaaatoooo!"   Her voice, clear and bell-
like, carried across the water, above the sound of the falls.  

"Hello!" I called back and waved.

"Mr Sato," she called again.  "You took the hard way!"  I 
could hear her laughter.  "There is a path on this side.  Much 
easier to get back.  Why don't you come across?"

I looked around for some way to cross but there wasn't a 
bridge in sight; the pond was large, too wide to cross.  
"Where can I cross?" I called back to her.

She laughed again.  "You have to walk across.  The water 
does not get very deep.  Hold your clothes over your head."

The look of concern on my face must have been plain all the 
way across the water because she called out again: "Don't 
worry, I will keep my eyes closed."  She made an exaggerated 
show of putting her hands over her eyes.

I slipped my sandals off and tested the water with my toes.  It 
felt cool and refreshing after my walk through the hot and 
humid forest.  Still I hesitated to undress in sight of Satomi.

"Go on!  Don't be shy," she called to me again.

Feeling a bit self conscious I undressed and held my bundled 
clothes in front of my crotch in case Satomi decided to peek 
after all.  When I looked across at her she seemed to still have 
her hands over her eyes but I left the bundle in place until the 
water covered me.  The bottom of the pond was paved with 
small stones smooth from years of water running over them.  
It  felt soft under my feet.  As I reached the mid point the 
water rose almost to my shoulders and I had to hold my 
things high overhead to keep them dry.

When I came splashing out of the water Satomi dropped her 
hands from her eyes.

I quickly brought the bundle of clothes down to cover myself.  
"I thought you said you would keep your eyes closed," I said.

She let out a sigh of mock exasperation.  "I have seen worse 
than that," she said.  "Get dressed."

She kept her eyes on me as I clumsily tried to unroll my 
clothes and put them on without letting her see any more of 
my naked body than I had to.  I felt embarrassed struggling 
into my clothes in front of her watchful gaze.

When I had dressed she patted the grass beside her and asked 
me to sit.  "I just finished my swim before you came along.  If 
you had been a few minutes earlier you could have seen me 
without my clothes on...again."  She looked down at her toes 
nestled in the grass.  

I had put yesterday completely out of my mind.  After 
meeting with Mr Ogawa and receiving the white card  I only 
wanted the day to pass quickly, to meet no one.  I lowered 
myself to the ground beside her, not too close, anxious of 
what she might say or do.

"Did you have a nice talk with Megumi yesterday?" she 
asked.  Her voice became shy and soft again.

Ah, she wants to know if Megumi noticed her, I thought.  
"Yes," I said, "very pleasant."  I decided to be open with her: 
"She didn't say anything about you.  I think you got away 
before she saw you."

Satomi shook her head.  "No," she said.  "She was watching 
us the whole time.  She came forward to stop me...from...She 
walked loudly on purpose, to warn me.  If she had meant to 
surprise us she would have done so."

"No!" I said, shocked.  "She saw everything?"  

Satomi nodded without looking at me.  She brought her knees 
to her chest and hugged them.

"Do you think she told your father?" I asked.

The meeting with Mr Ogawa that morning, Megumi's terse 
note...my mind raced trying to penetrate their motives:  Mr 
Ogawa couldn't know could he?  About his daughter?  But 
what were the 'temptations' (plural!) he meant?  And why the 
white card?  If Megumi had definitely seen us...had she told 
him of my interest in her, not Satomi?  Maybe she was 
protecting me and her terse note was a warning...  

"She would never do that," Satomi said.  "She wants you."

"Me?" I said, incredulous but with a bit of foolish lover's hope 
creeping into the back of my mind.  "How can you say that?  
What about the other night, what we saw?"

"I know what we saw," she said.  "But she wants you.  I can 
tell.  She wants all the attention, all the men to chase after 
her, then she will either give in or not as she pleases.  She 
does not know that you have seen her other lover;  I am the 
one she thinks is ruining her little game."

Her words filled me with hope and dread:  I had to find 
Megumi before night fell and explain what had happened in 
the garden between Satomi and me, that it wasn't at my 
instigation.  I remembered the white card: perhaps it would 
summon her.  She had not shown herself all day.  Where was 
she anyway?  

"Mr Sato,"  Satomi broke my train of thought.  "Why don't 
you want me instead?"  She had lain back onto the grass, 
letting the folds of her robe part to reveal her breasts.

I quickly turned my head away, blood burning in my face and 
ears.

"Well, why don't you?" she asked again.  She sat upright and 
put her hand on my shoulder.  I couldn't look at her.  I froze, 
staring at the grass between my feet.

"Satomi, please," I whispered.  The air seemed to catch in my 
throat; it was an effort to make that small amount of sound.  
"I shouldn't...I mean I can't."

"But why?"  She slid her hand down my back and off me, 
disappointment clear in her voice.  "Why?" she asked again.

Strangely I felt close to tears, as if the smallest movement 
might upset my poise and start me crying.  I couldn't explain 
what I was feeling.  "Satomi, it wouldn't be right,"  I said.  
"You're so young.   What would your father say?"

"I'm almost seventeen," she said.  Her voice was quietly 
defiant.  "That is old enough.  And I don't care what he would 
say anymore.  He tries to keep me locked up all the time, 
here, at home in Tokyo.  Besides...after what I have I have 
seen.  In the last two years things have changed.  I have 
changed..."  She paused for a long time.  Only the sounds of 
the forest and the running water passed between us.

"Am I not as beautiful as she is?"  Her voice trembled slightly 
as if now she might cry at any moment.

I felt trapped: of course she was beautiful, and I even felt 
desire for her, but more than anything she was still Mr 
Ogawa's daughter, forbidden to me.  How could I delicately 
spurn her and preserve her feelings?

"Satomi...I...of course you are beautiful," I said.

"But Megumi..."  She started to finish what I was saying, then 
stopped.

"No, not because of Megumi,"  I broke back in.  "Even if 
there was no Megumi I could not do it.  I wouldn't...Satomi, 
I'm sorry."

I felt my words pierce her, like arrows which once released 
continued along their painful trajectory. Beyond my power to 
recall them I could only observe the impact they had on her as 
they squarely hit their mark.  

"I'm sorry," I said again in the middle of a long silence.

She pulled her robe about her shoulders.  "Mr Sato," she said, 
almost a whisper.  "Will you meet me in the garden tonight.  I 
promise not to do anything...bad...again.  But we might climb 
the hill behind the house..."  

I thought of the white card, and of where I had to be that 
evening.  "No Satomi," I said.  I turned to face her, twisting 
my body.  "I don't think it would be a good idea for me to..."

Quickly, so quickly that I never saw, her nimble fingers 
reached into my pocket and snatched out the white card: my 
movement had dislodged it bringing it partially into view.

"Not a good idea," she said mocking me, holding the card 
away from my grasping fingers.  "Now I see why.  I know 
what this is Mr Sato!"

"Satomi!"  I felt caught.  "I...Your father...He said..."  The 
words caught in my chest.  My embarrassment was total.

"I know who gave it to you," she snapped, still fingering  the 
card, turning it over in her hands.  "This is how he 
manipulates people," she said, holding it up as if it were a 
piece of incriminating evidence.  "It is so easy for him to 
control you.  You, Megumi, everyone..."

"What do you mean, about Megumi," I asked.  The mere 
mention of her name set off within me the wild hope that the 
card might have something to do with her, summon her to my 
room that evening.  "I thought she went behind your father's 
back...to..."

Satomi rolled her eyes.  "Behind his back?  Never.  He knows 
all about it.  I think he might even have something to do with 
arranging it."

"For what purpose?" I asked, bewildered.

"I don't know," she shrugged.  "It is all a game to him.  
Everything is a test of character, loyalties, allegiances.  He 
uses the most powerful things to motivate people, and in that 
way also controls them, absolutely."

Her insights seemed so wise, beyond her years.  I felt 
ashamed.  She rose letting the card flutter to the ground 
beside me.

"Have your fun tonight, Mr Sato," she said.  I could see her 
struggling to feign indifference.  "But remember: your room 
also has windows, the same as Megumi's."  

She turned and left me.  I grasped for the white card lest the 
wind should blow it out onto the pond as Satomi stalked off 
into the trees.

***

Moonlight lit the room.  Like a spotlight a blue-gray shaft 
streamed through the high window illuminating me as I lay 
in bed.  

The white card hung outside my door; with furtive glances up 
and down the hall I placed it there just before turning out my 
lights and getting into bed.  I waited for the sound of 
footsteps, wondering whom the card might summon, caught 
uneasily between eager anticipation and the sinking feeling 
that I was being watched.  My feelings of disquiet and 
anticipation grew as the darkness deepened.   I felt like an 
animal caged and on display.  Without turning I rolled my 
eyes in the direction of the window;  I didn't want Satomi to 
see me looking up at her, if she was really out there.  

I am unsure how long I waited before drifting off to a fitful 
sleep, dreaming that the moon had a young girl's face and 
was staring down on me with wide accusing eyes.  

The door latch clicked softly sending a soft shudder through 
me, at once a sigh of relief and a heightening of senses as my 
body reacted instinctively to the threat of the unknown.  I 
pretended to be asleep as I watched a woman's silhouette 
briefly outlined against the light from the hall fade back into 
the darkness as the door closed silently behind her.  The 
momentary image was all I needed to see that the woman in 
my room was small, with a round, soft looking body: 
definitely not Megumi.

Who could it be, I wondered?

She slipped out of her robe and in the semi darkness I could 
see the fullness of her breasts, the shadowy cleft between 
them revealed as she walked over to me through the shaft of 
moonlight.  She slipped under the covers beside me without a 
sound.  Her thigh slid along mine, raising goose bumps.  

We lay side by side for a moment before she said something 
to me in Japanese, whispering.

I rolled over to face her.  "Do you speak English?"  I 
whispered back.

"English?"  She propped her head on her arm.  "Only a little."

"What's your name?"

"Yuko"

"Yuko, I'm Ken,"  I said dumbly.  I almost extended my hand 
as if to shake hers.  I still hadn't touched her and the situation 
felt awkward.  I wasn't sure what to do next, and with Satomi 
possibly watching from high above I felt more than my usual 
share of self consciousness.

"Ken.  Hello Ken," she whispered back.  She remained still 
for another moment, then she was all action.  With her free 
hand lightly on my chest she gently pushed me onto my back 
pressing her body against mine.  She began running her 
hands up and down my chest.  Her cool fingers glided down 
to my stomach, over my arms, across my nipples where she 
paused to lightly rub her palms over them with a circular 
motion.

I thought with relief that if Satomi had really come to spy on 
me all she was getting to see were the covers moving, a ripple 
traveling up and down my body where Yuko's hands stroked 
me.  Her touch felt soft and relaxing.  More than arousing me 
she was stroking away all of the nervous tension and 
frustration that had been building up in me over the past 
several days.

Yuko was perceptive:  "So tense.  So tense," she kept 
whispering in my ear as she ran her hands over me.  
Gradually I melted beneath her touch, all of me except my 
penis which had become painfully stiff.

Go lower, I kept thinking, just a bit lower every time her 
hands reached my belly and turned back to my chest.  Before 
long she had me gasping with pleasure, desperate for her to 
touch me.  As she stroked my belly I thrust my pelvis upward 
bringing the tip of my penis in contact with her hand 
demanding her attention.  She let her finger tips slowly run 
down the soft underside of it with a feathery touch.

"Too fast!" she said with a mocking tone, as a mother would 
scold a naughty schoolboy.  "Too big already."  Then softer, 
as if to herself:  "Soon..."

She rose to her knees beside me and began pulling the covers 
off me.  The night was warm after all and the only reason I 
had them over me in the first place was because I thought 
Satomi might be watching.

"Stay under the covers," I said, grabbing handfuls of the sheet 
on either side of her and pulling them around us.  "Please..."

I saw her eyes get wider as she looked at me for a moment.  
Bending lower she edged herself backwards under the covers  
I felt the tip of a cool breast graze my hot penis.  She giggled,  
muffled by the sheets, then suddenly I felt her mouth engulf 
me, her lips closing around me just below the head.  I swelled 
in her mouth in answer to the sweet sensation.  The moan 
that rose from her throat passed to my body as a vibration.  I 
answered with a sound of my own, a long drawn out 
"ohhhhh."

Slowly she began nodding motions, taking a little more of me 
in each time, spreading the sweet touch of her mouth over 
more and more of me.  She brought her hands up and gripped 
my thighs to steady herself while her head moved up and 
down on me sharply, little knifing thrusts of her neck that 
sent waves of pleasure through me.  I brought my hands up 
and covered my face.  I didn't know what else to do.  I felt 
completely pampered, like a king, as she treated me to her 
very skilled performance;  I wanted to watch her but the 
thought of Satomi possibly looking on kept me from throwing 
off the covers.  

Yuko released me from her mouth and I felt her warm hand 
encircle me.  She gave a few soft tugs then I felt her hair 
brushing against me as she lowered her head between my 
thighs and I felt the gentle touch of her tongue against my 
balls.  I brought my knees up to give her better access and she 
took advantage, going all over and around them, making my 
entire body vibrate with pleasure as the ever-so-delicate 
motions of her tongue made goose bumps rise all over my 
body.

She took one of them into her mouth.  I stiffened and held my 
breath;  sometimes that is too much to endure but she was 
gentle and handled me with such finesse that I relaxed 
completely and lost myself to the feeling.  When she sensed I 
was more at ease she astonished me by fitting the other one in 
her mouth as well.  The breath caught in my lungs when she 
tugged on them gently with her mouth.  This is unbelievable, 
I thought; she seemed to posses an uncanny ability to do just 
what pleased me and it made me feel a kind of helpless bliss 
as I surrendered myself to her completely.

When I felt I could stand it no longer I drew her up to me and 
we exchanged a long deep kiss.  My penis felt hot, trapped 
between our bodies.  I let my hands move over the soft skin of 
her back, down to her behind while she lay on top of me.  
Drawing her still farther up I brought her breasts in reach of 
my mouth and let my tongue flick across her hard nipples, 
tasting their slight salty tang.  Hungrily I pressed her body to 
me and let her soft flesh envelop me.

Rolling off me she let out a sighing "OK..." and then took a 
few deep breaths as she fished around next to the mat and 
produced a condom.  She must have placed it there when she 
slipped in beside me, I realized.

She held up the packet before me.  "Please?"  she said.

"Oh, of course," I stammered, my voice almost a whisper.

"Please open it," she said.  "My fingers are not good..."

She giggled as I struggled to tear it open, eventually ripping it 
with my teeth.  The high window overlooking the room was 
open: I wondered if Satomi was outside, and if she could hear 
the crinkling plastic as the packet finally gave way.

Yuko took it from me and lifted the sheet.  Somehow, after 
what we had already done, having her dive under the covers 
again seemed absurd.  In the heat of desire I thought about 
Satomi: Let her watch, I thought.  I don't care if she is really 
out there crouching under the eaves spying on us;  It will 
serve her right to see this anyway.

A reckless sense of abandon came over me as I threw the 
covers aside somewhat roughly, startling Yuko for an instant 
before she giggled again.  Let Satomi get a good look at this I 
thought as I lay back and let Yuko roll the condom onto me.

When she had covered me Yuko started to climb on top.  She 
had done all of the work so far I realized, and with my new 
found sense of abandon I didn't feel like being the passive one 
any longer.   Somehow too in the back of my mind it occurred 
to me that I should try to appear strong to Satomi by taking 
on a more aggressive role.  Grabbing Yuko by her waist I 
rolled her onto her back and got between her legs.  She was 
ready for me and immediately grasped my penis and guided 
me to her opening.  I let my weight pin her down as I sank 
into her: she was warm and wet, her body surrounding me, 
pulling me inside as her legs locked around me, tightening.

I pushed myself all the way inside her and was still for a 
moment as I absorbed the sensation of her body around me 
before I began slowly thrusting in and out of her.  Yuko was 
silent other than her heavy breathing and she held me tightly 
in her arms.  The feeling of being inside her was at once such 
a relief, the culmination of so much anticipation, and an 
imperative, filling me with a sense of restless urgency; my 
body seemed to act of its own volition and began its 
inexorable series of motions and reflexes that completely 
circumvented my conscious will.  And yet somehow, without 
my becoming explicitly aware of it my thoughts shifted 
gradually to Satomi, and I began to feel with more certainty 
that she was actually there, outside, watching me.  I even 
began to wish that it were so, to enjoy the thought that I was 
performing for her in some way.

With a sense of showmanship in mind I accentuated my 
movements, exaggerating every gesture.  I brought Yuko's 
legs up over my shoulders and drove myself into her with 
greater force.  Unaware of my motivation she seemed to be 
enjoying my efforts.  She let out short squeaky sigh each time 
I plunged back into her and I felt the muscles in her body 
tense as she gripped me more tightly between he soft thighs.

By then my mind was made up: I knew that Satomi was 
definitely watching me.  The thought of her looking down on 
me from high above added heat to my passion; as if after all 
those times that as a boy that I had sat up above and spied on 
the beautiful Jill Tomita taking her lessons with my father I 
could finally come down and act out my fantasy.  In that 
moment I thought I could identify a little bit with the virginal 
and frustrated Satomi sitting high above, wanting nothing but 
to be down here in the room with me, to take Yuko's place.  

Carried away by these thoughts, and also by an almost 
perverse desire to rub it in I pulled out of Yuko and gently 
turned her on her side so that she faced the high window.  
Positioning myself behind her I hooked my arm under her leg 
raising it high in the air, spreading her wide.  Yuko grasped 
me and guided me back into her.  I knew that from above 
Satomi would be getting an excellent view as I began 
thrusting in an out from behind while I managed to snake my 
free arm around her shoulders to play with her breasts.

Yuko moaned with each stroke.  Her hair was right in front of 
my face and it shook as the tremor of my hard thrusts traveled 
through her body.  I was boiling over, too far gone to know if 
I was treating her more roughly than she liked.  She didn't 
stop me, but then nothing could have by that point.  My 
strokes came faster and faster.  I pounded into her as hard as I 
could until a powerful orgasm ripped through me and I came 
inside her with a seemingly endless stream of heavy 
throbbing spurts.

Yuko rolled onto her stomach with me still inside her and I 
lay on top panting and making feeble attempts to keep 
pushing myself into her.  When I grew soft and slipped out of 
her she turned towards me and we entwined our arms.  

I fell asleep in her warm embrace and only vaguely remember 
waking briefly when she slipped from the bed and let herself 
out of the room.


Fin, Part 5 of 7

Richard Rivers
2/98  



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