Message-ID: <7885eli$9804142214@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: r_rivers@cryogen.com (Rivers) Subject: Story: A Journey to the East Part 6/7 [MF, M/f, Sex, Japan, Horticulture] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: [The author wishes to apologize for the lengthy delay in posting part 6 to those, if any, who have been following this story.] 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 sixth, describing a week-long stay in Japan. 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 4/98 A JOURNEY TO THE EAST Day 6, Friday: The sun sparkled between the outstretched branches overhead. Another hot and humid day was breaking, the light gradually penetrating through to the mossy floor of the forest where I picked my way over uneven terrain, clambering up the steep hillside that rose behind the house. I had awakened early with the first light to find Yuko had gone. The memory of her was already fading, receding as the mists over the pond recoiled from the rising sun, and my thoughts turned more towards Satomi; the nagging question of whether or not she had been watching me the night before gnawed me pushing aside more pleasant memories of Yuko. I climbed through the forest almost blindly, groping my way where there was no path, hoping that I might find some sign that would prove whether or not she had also passed this way. The events of the past five days had left me groping for answers to many of the things I had witnessed. I felt confused; I didn't understand anything that was going on around me. The people: Mr Ogawa, Megumi, Satomi, what were their motives? I felt surrounded, captured, imprisoned in a world made more of fantasy than reality: surreal. I couldn't even come close to understanding the people around me. Every time I came near to grasping at an explanation it vanished, replaced by another paradox. Picking through the trees I had no clear idea of what I might accomplish by what I was doing but I felt driven on by the need to reach out, to find some physical sign, something that might have a reality outside this place, anything that might help me get a grasp on what was happening to me. When I had climbed through the dense forest for some time the ground leveled off and I found myself looking down on the guest house just as I had two nights ago with Satomi, only this time I was on the other side of the building: my own window lay below. I gently eased down the slope. The way was not as easy on this side. If she had come at all Satomi must have had a difficult time making her way down in the dark. I studied the mossy ground as I walked, looking for some sign that another person had come this way. The plants looked undisturbed, and I realized that the springy ground showed no trace of my own passage: surely the smaller Satomi would have left no foot prints either. I stopped for a moment, despairing of finding any evidence of her passage. After looking about me in all directions I continued on glumly, without much hope, simply because I had planned to go all the way to my window and I lacked the motivation to think of an alternative. When I reached my window and looked inside a shiver went through me: how clearly I could see down into the room. The futon where I had lain with Yuko seemed so near. It sat in the center of the small room as if it were the center-piece on a stage...I thought back over my actions of the night before, embarrassed by the way I had lost control of myself. Why had I acted that way, I wondered? What had come over me? I looked around again, finding no sign of Satomi's presence here the night before. I breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that she probably had not been spying on me after all and that she hadn't seen my foolish display. Just at that moment I saw it: tied around the base of a small tree a black silk piece of cloth hanging limply. I recognized it immediately as the belt from Satomi's robe. I had seen her undo it twice in the last two days; there was no mistaking it. I felt extremely self conscious and I looked quickly over my shoulder as if I might find her still there, still watching me, but there was nobody in sight. I untied the belt and held it in my hand. Afraid to move I stood still for a few moments thinking. I felt guilty but I knew that eventually I would have to come down from the hill, out of the forest to face Satomi, Megumi and Mr Ogawa and I felt shame at the way I had acted the night before. What was worse was that they all knew, all three of them, I was sure of it. What did they each think about it, I wondered? Satomi had been right: I had let her father manipulate me into an uncomfortable position. His power over me had increased. I was indebted to him. At the same time I had lowered myself in the eyes of Megumi, and even though he might not realize it, also his daughter. I nervously coiled and uncoiled the silk belt around my hands as I made my way back, anxiously pondering how I would get through the day. I planned to slip back into my room before anyone else woke up, perhaps get a little more sleep and then think about how I would face each of the people I would surely encounter. I desperately needed some time to be alone, to think. Emerging from the trees and stepping out onto the garden path I ran headlong into Megumi. "You are up early today Mr Sato," she said, wiping perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Going for a walk?" She gave me a quizzical look, eyebrows raised. My sudden emergence from the underbrush had surprised her somewhat, yet she maintained her usual poise and self assured demeanor. I guessed she had just come back from a morning run from her out fit: tight fitting black shorts with a matching halter top that left her midriff bare. As I glanced quickly over her sweat-soaked body I realized that I was seeing her for the first time in something other than traditional dress, except of course when I had seen her with nothing on at all. "It's too hot to sleep," I answered quickly. "I thought I would get some air." Her tight fitting clothes framed her body perfectly, leaving little to the imagination. I felt embarrassed standing in front of her while she gazed at me calmly: I didn't know where to look. My eyes darted over her breasts; the nipples, ringed by halos of perspiration, stood out, embarrassingly prominent. I quickly raised my eyes to her face: she was still looking straight at me. "What a lovely belt," she said. Blood rushed to my face. I had completely forgotten that I was still holding it, twisting it nervously around my hand. I wondered if she recognized it as Satomi's. Perhaps she assumed Yuko had left it. I quickly stuffed it into my pocket, a gesture that made me feel all the more guilty. I silently cursed myself for not having put it out of sight before. There was an awkward silence. I had just put the belt away: it would be stupid to refer to it now I thought; but to say nothing? I had to acknowledge her remark but I couldn't think of a thing to say. My indecision froze me, speechless. Then Megumi laughed. "Enjoy the rest of your walk Mr Sato, but don't get too tired. We have a lot of work to do today. It's hot!" She fanned the air in front of her face and set off down the path, giving me a light pat on the shoulder as she passed. *** Later that morning Megumi brought me a large stack of papers, the final set of revisions and instructions from Mr Ogawa. On top of the pile lay a small envelope with my name written on it. My curiosity aroused, I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. Megumi, sensing that I wished to open the envelope, withdrew discreetly and stood looking out the large window into the garden. Inside I discovered another white card, perhaps the very same one Mr Ogawa had given me the day before. Embarrassed, I glanced quickly in the direction of Megumi while I slipped the card into my pocket. She hadn't seemed to notice. I cleared my throat and noisily began straightening the papers on my desk to let her know that she could approach, but instead of turning from the window she stood for a long moment and continued to look outside. After what seemed like an interminable wait she turned and without catching my eye left the room in silence *** Megumi's sudden exit troubled me and I sat for a long time pondering what it might mean. She must have known all along that the envelope contained the white card, I reasoned; but then why get upset about it? Maybe it had something to do with Satomi, her belt in my hands that morning? I mulled over the possibilities, wasting a lot of time, before finally diving into my work. Looking at the latest instruction from Mr Ogawa filled me with dismay: the changes he demanded amounted to an almost complete reworking of everything I had done so far. Many of his instructions directly contradicted things he had asked for previously, and I would have to accomplish it all in the final two days. I wondered if I would even have time to get to bed that night for a few hours of sleep; the pleasures of the white card seemed impossibly unfeasible at that moment. Perhaps this was Mr Ogawa's idea of a joke I thought bitterly. Whatever his intent, the effect was to make me angry. I tore into the stack of papers and tackled the task before me with a kind of reckless, passionate energy, spurred onward by my anger. The first time I paused to lift my eyes for a moment's rest I realized that three hours had gone by. The morning sun had climbed high overhead and was beating down on the garden outside my window. This was the hottest, most humid day so far. I took little notice however and dove back into my work without even getting up for my customary stretch. Again I lost myself in my work, completely forgetting Megumi, Mr Ogawa and Satomi. The strange mental state that had come over me remained and I found that I was making better progress than I had expected. I hit upon some new insights that had previously eluded me. My breakthroughs greatly speeded my progress and I gained confidence as I could see the end of the job come closer. I am not sure how many more hours I worked without stopping or even looking up when a faint knock at the door interrupted me. Before I could react, it opened and Satomi entered, followed immediately by her father. "Mr Ogawa," I said as I rose from my seat. My back ached as I stood up. I realized that I had sat hunched over the desk since morning without moving. "Please," he answered, raising his hand. "I am sorry to bother you but Mrs Ogawa and I will be spending the night in the village. I wanted to see how you were doing before we left. I know I posed a great many new questions for you at the last minute. I only wanted to speak to you and make certain that you had a grasp on it before your final day here." My new insights excited me, and I was eager to show him how I had mastered the task. I knew I had probably done better with it than he could have hoped for. "Things are very well in order," I said, barely taming the enthusiasm in my voice. "Here, look." I handed him some of the pertinent pages and took great satisfaction at seeing his eyebrows lift in surprise as he scanned them. "This is very good, excellent in fact. You seem to have found some real inspiration," he said with admiration. "This interests me greatly. Would you mind organizing what you have done so far and delivering it to me before I leave tonight? I will send Megumi by to help you. I definitely would like to see this tonight." "It would be no problem," I answered. For the first time I felt that I had lived up to or exceeded his expectations of me, made him proud. I couldn't understand why pleasing him was so important to me but the fact that he praised me made me feel a great wave of contentment. Satomi edged closer to her father and said something to him in a low voice. "I am sorry," he said, laughing. "I forgot why I came here in the first place. I understand you haven't eaten yet today. You have obviously been working very hard. I have arranged for my daughter to bring you something here at your desk; she is not coming with my wife and I to the village tonight so she can remain for a while to serve you." "Thank you Mr Ogawa, but that won't be necessary," I began to protest. The thought of being alone with Satomi made me uncomfortable; I wanted to put off having to face her now that I new she had seen me with Yuko last night. He stopped me: "Please Mr Sato, I insist. It is no trouble at all." Turning to Satomi he uttered a few words in Japanese very quickly under his breath and she glided out of the room. "She will be back in a few minutes," he said, "and soon after that Megumi will come by to help you organize the papers and bring them to me. Of course, after that, you still have the white card." Bowing slightly, he turned and left the room. *** I had a very uncomfortable lunch. Satomi chose to give me the silent treatment when she returned carrying a tray of food. A few times I tried to start up a conversation with her, about anything-the weather, the food, where her parents were going-but each time she met my words with silence. Her eyes seemed to bore through me as I ate as quickly as I could under the uncomfortable glare of her disapproval. I thought to mention last night, the white card, Yuko, or the fact that I had climbed the hill and found her belt tied there but I lost my nerve and remained silent. I tried to fathom her thoughts. What was that look on her face? Each time our eyes met however it was I who looked away first, guiltily; tried convicted and sentenced to endure a flaying by those wide innocent eyes, slicing through me layer by layer, all the way to my soul. When I finished, Satomi gathered up the dishes and removed the tray. After the door closed behind her I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my forehead. *** Megumi arrived a short time later to help me organize my work to deliver to Mr Ogawa. We had a difficult time deciding exactly what were the most pertinent points to show him. Everything I suggested seemed wrong to her and she let me know about it, coldly. Our arguing wasted time and I grew resentful: I could be working at finishing this right now, I thought. Instead I was arguing with Megumi over what to include in a summary that Mr Ogawa would probably skim over for a few minutes before throwing down on his bedside table that night. In the midst of a fairly heated exchange, I felt her hand come to rest lightly on my shoulder, too lightly for the angry tone of our words. She was standing behind my chair as she had been for some time, reaching over me to jab her finger at the computer screen or grab a loose sheet of paper to wave angrily before my eyes. Only now she grew quiet, her hand just softly touching my shoulder, not pressing down on me but simply coming to rest there as if it was the most natural thing for her to do. Her soft touch and the sudden stillness in the room sent a sweet kind of jolt through me; something between a shiver and a silky cascade of muscles relaxing, yielding to her nourishing touch. I had felt so alone, accused, abandoned. Now the slightest hint of a compassionate gesture from another human being made me melt. "Wait a minute, Mr Sato," she said, her voice suddenly much more quiet; the edge had gone out of it and the deep rich silky tones I had admired on first meeting her returned. "Lets take a short break. This is upsetting to me." I turned, her hand still on my shoulder. I half expected to see her eyes filled with tears; that is how her voice sounded. Instead she surprised me: Smiling down at me, her eyes beamed with an open, innocently playful look, the look that betrayed her mischievous side. "Do you want to step outside?" I asked. No, she nodded and walked over to the couch facing the window. She sat down and gave the arm of the chair next to her a light pat. "Why don't we just sit here for a while instead," she said. Her manner was so inviting. Over the last few days I had begun to feel surrounded by disapproval. Mr Ogawa, Satomi and Megumi had all displayed some sort of dissatisfaction with me in one way or another. Maybe now the ice was breaking, I thought. My latest work had pleased Mr Ogawa and Megumi seemed to be acting more friendly at the moment. Satomi had given me the cold shoulder but there was nothing I could do to make her forgive me I decided. With Megumi warming to me it did not seem to matter that much anyway. I sat down and let myself sink back into the chair. I had been working hard and only when I stopped could I feel how truly worn out I was. I sighed as I let the soft chair cradle me, my head falling backwards. Suddenly I was too weary to try to keep up any semblance of decorum in front of her. Feeling safe and secure I closed my eyes and before long a had fallen asleep. I don't know how long I slept; maybe only half an hour, but the sound of Megumi shuffling papers around on the desk awakened me. "I am sorry to wake you," she said, noticing me. "It is time to gather all of this together and deliver it to Mr Ogawa." "But, we never finished..." I started to say. The last thing I remember was that we had argued over some point or other, not resolving anything. "Don't worry about it." She cut me off. "I am just gathering it all together for Mr Ogawa. He can sort it out himself." Something in her tone took my by surprise; perhaps a subtle hint of defiance? I couldn't exactly place it, but her attitude had changed, very slightly, but enough for me to notice. Before, she had always been so serious when it came to work, to Mr Ogawa and his wishes. Her tone of voice now suggested that she held something in disdain: was it Mr Ogawa, his seemingly endless and random series of changes and revisions, or was t it something to do with the project I did not know about? I couldn't tell what it was but I got the feeling that somehow we were allies now. Mixed in her tone of voice was a bit of sympathy, I decided. I rose and stood next to her while she ordered the papers. I could smell the scent of her body, the faint hint of sandalwood or some other fragrance just out of range of my conscious perception. A few wisps of hair trailed across her cheek, so black against the whiteness of her skin. They swayed gently as she leaned to and fro reaching for things on the desk. I wanted her then. Nothing in the world seemed more desirable at that moment. Clenching my hands tightly was the only way I could keep myself from reaching out and touching her. Everything in my conscious mind wanted to do it, to reach out to her, yet something held me back; the same restraint that had always plagued me, and would forever plague me, come between my desires and their fulfillment. I struggled with myself in those few moments while she continued to work as if unaware of me standing beside her. I couldn't break through whatever it was holding me back. Was it fear of her disapproval? The possibility that I had misjudged the situation somehow? The moment stretched on, frozen; I couldn't break the stasis. This is my life I thought bitterly. Desire began slowly to transform into despair, that ever familiar cycle. Megumi finished organizing the papers for Mr Ogawa. In desperation, without really thinking what I was doing I drew the white card out of my pocket and lay it on top of the folder. If I couldn't reach out to her directly, at least I could make some small gesture, show her what I was feeling. "Return this to Mr Ogawa also," I said. Blood rushed to my face and I turned and looked out the window, towards the garden. After a long silence Megumi spoke: "Mr Sato." Her voice was almost a whisper. "This is not...because of me...is it?" I turned to look at her. For the first time she seemed to have lost her poise, her distant serenity. She was blushing, looking down at the folder with the white card on top as if she could not bring herself to touch it. Her embarrassment flustered me. I remained silent. "Please," she said. "Mr Sato, don't...not because of me. Please..." Her eyes grew large, glistening with tears. She gently tilted the folder, causing the white card to slide down onto the desk top. The delicate motion, her soft words and her tears had crushed me more effectively than the cruelest hammer blow. I knew she hadn't meant it that way; she had been as gentle as she could. Picking up the folder she brought it to her side, readying herself to leave. Still caught up in the powerful force of my feelings, unable to say anything, I picked up the card and tore it in three pieces that fluttered to the floor where I dropped them. Turning swiftly away, Megumi left the room. *** After dinner that evening I grew restless; sitting at my desk I tried to read but couldn't concentrate. I got up and paced my room for a few minutes before it dawned on me that my work here had essentially finished. Mr Ogawa had gone for the night. He could look over what I had done and make a few minor revisions still, but to insure that I completed and wrapped everything by the end of tomorrow he couldn't be too extravagant in his requests for changes this time; not if he wanted a nicely finished product. The realization made me even more agitated. I felt I was just killing time here. I couldn't get anything done tonight and there just wasn't much to do around here other than work. For me the peace and serenity of the place had completely vanished. Instead of feeling relaxed and rejuvenated by the atmosphere I felt nervous, trapped. Megumi: why had she been crying at our last conversation? Was it the white card, or the fact that I refused it? Feeling hemmed in and bored, with nothing to do, I was beginning to regret making that noble gesture. What was I trying to prove anyway? And to whom? Mr Ogawa didn't even know of my refusal since the pieces of the torn card still lay in the waste basket in the library. Another thought occurred to me: he didn't know, couldn't know that I had refused the white card. In that case he must have arranged for Yuko to be here again tonight. She didn't stay here. I had never seen her around the grounds or in the house which meant that she had to come in from the outside, an arrangement Mr Ogawa would have had to make. Ah, but what if Megumi handled the details? She seemed to know all about it, or at least she second guessed it the last time. I couldn't be sure. This might be a matter that Mr Ogawa would see to himself, to see to the comfort of his guest personally. I thought back to last night with Yuko: the sweet smell of her body, the heaviness of her breasts and thighs pressed against me. Alone in my room with nothing to do I kicked myself for tearing up that card. Megumi had told me clearly that I should stay away, as far as anything physical went, and Satomi had stopped speaking to me. There was definitely nothing I could do now except try to find out if Yuko was around anywhere. I might still be able to rescue the evening I decided. My spirits grew lighter. It was hot even though the sun had gone down. The night would be hot and humid again. I opened my window and felt the faintest breeze waft across my face. The moist air moved sluggishly, carrying with it the rich smells of the garden. I left my room and almost immediately the absurdity of my plan struck me. What was I to do, knock on every door and see if Yuko answered? I stopped and stood for a moment outside of my room in the hallway. The other alternative was to sit here or just inside my door waiting for her to come looking for the card; when she didn't see it I could step out and tell her that I would like her company tonight after all. Standing and waiting out in the hallway seemed ridiculous and the thought of spending another minute cooped up in my room was unbearable. I decided to wander through the guest house and simply see what I would see. Perhaps I would run into Yuko, or at least find some sign of her. I wandered the hallways of the empty guest house pausing at each door to listen for a moment. The servants must stay somewhere it occurred to me, but where? In this house? The place seemed deserted. Lights dimmed for the night lent an eerie glow to shadowy corridors that twisted and turned around the house. I didn't hear a sound other than my own slippers padding on the wooden floor. At the far end of the house at last I heard something: a faint murmuring coming from behind one of the doors. There were two voices; a man and a woman, alternating. A few words, then a pause, then a few more. I couldn't make out what they were saying. I stood still listening for a long time; their softly buzzing voices had a hypnotic effect on me. This hallway was the mirror image to my own I realized. I had passed completely through the guest house to the far side. I remembered the image of the house as I had seen it from above. This had to be Megumi's room. Careful not to make a sound I turned and retraced my steps out of the house and into the garden. I am not certain when it consciously occurred to me that I would climb the hill behind the house and take my place outside her window. Perhaps it never did emerge in so concrete a form, yet I found myself moving along the same path I had walked with Satomi, climbing the hill, then descending beneath the overhanging eaves. The glow from the open window illuminated the ledge with a strange bluish light, almost as if there was a television on inside. It relieved me not to see Satomi already sitting there: She must have gone away with her parents after all thought with relief. Megumi and the stranger were reclining side by side on the futon when I looked down on them. They wore matching robes of thin white linen tied with black belts, there hair glistened, wet, as if they had come from a swim or the shower. The candle light flickered over them, softening the outlines of their bodies; the fabric of their garments flowed over them like water and rejoined the cool whiteness of the sheets. Deep shadows were in the folds, creeping back and forth as gentle wafts of air made the candles dance. Again I could here their voices murmur. Laying side by side with their heads propped on folded arms; they looked so serene. I feared I had come too late for they seemed as if they were enjoying a moment of post coital bliss, the warm afterglow of passion rather than still stoking its flames. They murmured back and forth for a few minutes more while I strained to hear. Whether they gradually spoke louder or I grew accustomed to the sounds of their voices I do not know, but I began to distinguish a few words of their conversation. A few scraps of phrases floated out the open window to me and on out into the still night air. She: "...yes, yes..." He: "Megumi, I promise..." "...not now..." "..." "Not right away. Please?" "Of course...you know..." "...I will try..." "...trust me.." He reached for her and they kissed, a long hungry kiss, arms and legs twining around each other, and I realized that I was not too late after all. Her long hair cascaded over them. Briefly I caught sight of her ear, a flushed cheek, the edge of her lips, cresting through her hair which, flowing, was in constant motion about them. He gently grasped her chin with one hand while pushing aside the strands with the other revealing her face, pale and white, radiant in the dim light as the moon is when it passes from behind a solitary cloud in the blackest night sky. He kissed her more deeply, then moved down her body to untie her belt. I heard her breathe deeply as the knot came untied and he exposed her body. Gently he lifted the robe off her shoulders and held it as she slipped her arms out. In the dim light her skin looked pale, milky white. Her nipples stood out from her small breasts, dark circles on a white background. The candle light flickered over the deep shadows on her body, at her navel, between her thighs. The man didn't pause to admire her body: he could move more than his eyes over that smooth skin, do more than imagine the taste and feel of those hard nipples thrust upward as if begging to be encircled. Leaning over her he kissed her breasts, one after the other, lingering there. I could see his tongue making small circles around each nipple, then his lips, closing, hid the small bud from my sight. Moving down her body he kissed his way over her ribcage, past her navel and into the dark patch of hair below. Then he positioned himself between her legs, parting them with a gentle hand on each knee, pushing them upward, apart. She brought her hands to her face and I heard a muffled gasp from between them; her belly heaved with slow elastic motions as her partner pleasured her. Slowly her hands moved to her breasts, cupping them, squeezing, pushing the hardened nipples upward as she arched her back, turning her face away from me. The man released her knees and let his hands slide upward to grasp her hips, holding her more firmly against his face. She writhed, a captive of his embrace, struggling as if the pleasure he gave would overwhelm her, sweep her away. Her thighs came together on either side of his head, gripping him. I saw her ankles cross on his back; now he became the prisoner. Arching her entire body she pulled herself up against him, her pelvis rising off the mat. I could see the muscles along the outside of her thigh stretch and tighten: the hard sinews of her body showing through that smooth creamy skin. Both bodies strained against each other. Megumi let out little cries in rhythm to some subtle motions her partner made that I could not see. She shuddered, holding on to one long drawn out "Aahhhhh..." Pushing his head away with her hands she closed her thighs. Squeezing them together she made small jerky pelvic thrusts against the mat while her partner stroked her belly and breasts. "Oh, I'm coming..." I heard her say amidst a series of other sounds that were something between moans, cries and deep gasps for breath. "Megumi, Megumi," he was saying over and over. His tone soothing as his hands gently stroked and calmed her heaving body. "You are so beautiful." At that moment I became aware of someone quite close beside me. I started physically. Almost forgetting myself I came close to crying out. Satomi had edged her way next to me at some point. Lost as I was in watching the lovers below I hadn't even noticed when she arrived. My startled reaction took her by surprise. Her head turned swiftly towards me. Her eyes, wide and staring, fixed on me for a long moment with a look that I couldn't fathom: a look between surprise and anger, yet I also sensed that beneath it all something had amused her. We could not risk speaking and Satomi turned away from me, returning her gaze to the open window. I stared at her profile for a long time but she pointedly ignored me, continuing to stare into the room. When I looked away from Satomi I saw Megumi and the man had switched positions. He lay on his back while she knelt beside him. Arching her fingers, she gently racked her nails across his chest and belly, one hand following the other, like a cat pawing the ground in a slow sensual motion. Then she grasped his penis with one hand and squeezed. Already highly aroused, he swelled even more between her slender fingers; the dark engorged head stood out almost obscenely against her light skin. He let escape a long low groan. Megumi relaxed her grip and stroked him gently, tugging at him, coaxing him harder. The sight of Megumi ministering to the man in that way affected me powerfully. I couldn't hold back my own arousal. I hoped that I could somehow keep Satomi from noticing. Megumi slipped between his legs in one supple fluid motion, so quickly, as if she had always been there. Her hair spilled over him and he groaned more loudly when her mouth or tongue made contact. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Satomi take a deep breath. A moment later I felt her hand slide to her side, then creep up onto my thigh. I quickly moved my own hand to grasp hers, to stop her from going farther, but something in me softened. Her skin felt cool and soft through the thin fabric of the robe and her motion, sliding so shyly onto me, as a small animal does when seeking warmth and shelter, made me reconsider. I did not lift her hand away and a reckless idea occurred to me: if she wants to play with fire I thought, let her. Relaxing my grasp I left her hand resting lightly on my thigh and returned my attention to the scene below. Megumi's partner reached down and parted her hair, lifting it back up over her shoulders, revealing her face. Her lips were firmly gripping his penis. "Do you mind if I watch?" he asked. Without taking her mouth off him she shook her head: no. Her eyes had lifted briefly to catch his. Her arched eyebrows and the little furrow between them gave her the look of someone astonished, or in wonder. Those eyes, limpid, their moistness catching the dim candle light and sending a beam radiating outward, seemed to look past her partner's face, upward, through the window, directly into mine. She held that look for just an instant longer than seemed natural, an instant long enough for the realization to strike me like lightning: she knows I'm here, I thought. The shock of that realization made my entire body stiffen. Satomi felt it and turned towards me. Did Satomi see that look too? Our yes met but we couldn't speak for fear of announcing ourselves. I wondered if it really mattered any more, yet I remained silent as I looked at Satomi who had fixed me with a look of serious concern. Megumi lowered her yes again. Her brows now knit together as she made slow nodding motions up and down on the man's penis giving her an expression as if she was deep in contemplation, pondering, all the while slowly nodding in assent: yes, yes, yes... She withdrew her mouth, gently holding him at the tip between her thumb and forefinger while her tongue slid up and down the length of him. Then her head went lower, disappearing into the shadows between his thighs. He spread his legs wider and I could see the muscles of his chest and stomach tighten as he moaned. "Ah...yes...yes...lick my balls..." He let out a deep breath, as if the sweetness of her touch had deflated him completely. When her head reemerged from between his legs she released her soft grip on him, but he had grown harder, and now his stiff penis stood upward on its own, twitching. She didn't touch him then. Holding her face close she must have been letting her cool moist breath caress him. He swelled visibly, straining upward, craving her touch, needing it; his increasing arousal bringing him closer, ever closer to her waiting mouth while she held herself tantalizingly just out of reach, watching him, willing him to grow larger, coaxing him upward with her breath alone. She held herself that way for a long time and I began to feel the stirrings of my own arousal. The weight of Satomi's hand on my thigh suddenly seemed heavy, damp. The coolness of her palm sank into my thigh and spread through my crotch. She is only a few inches away I thought, wondering if from under the thin robe my growing erection might actually brush against her splayed fingers resting there. I felt myself becoming harder, straightening. My penis like a shark that arches its back and stiffens before the attack glided silently as it slid along under the cloth of my robe, her fingers, unaware, dangling just above. Megumi had risen from between the man's legs and was kneeling beside him. "Now...what you have wanted before...I will do it for you," she said demurely, her eyes flickering over the body of her lover and quickly, ever so quickly, upward at the open window. I empathized with her having been in a similar position the night before with Yuko: wondering if Satomi was watching us, going back and forth in my mind whether or not she was, and in the end losing my inhibitions more completely because I thought I might have an audience. What would she do for him, I wondered? What did she mean? The night stilled; there was an air of expectation, and the potentiality was more arousing to me than anything I had seen so far. It occurred to me that what she would do for him she would do at least in part because of me. My feeling of arousal grew more powerful and my stirring penis brushed against Satomi's hand so lightly that she didn't seem to notice. *** In the room below Megumi knelt beside her partner who reclined with his arms folded behind his head. She reached for something beside the bed, a small bottle or jar: I couldn't quite make it out. After applying some of the contents to her hands she leaned over and grasped him in her hands and began stroking him, slowly, methodically, up and down the length of his shaft. I could see his skin glistening, shining in the candle light as Megumi rubbed him with some kind of oil. He let out a long deep breath as she continued to stroke him. I felt my own arousal heighten in consort with what I was seeing, powerless to stop myself from getting a more powerful erection even as it became obvious to Satomi. Her hand stayed where it was, resting lightly on my thigh, and it was I who increased the pressure against her. Through the thin fabric that separated us her hand felt cool against my hot throbbing flesh. Satomi's hand remained still as she felt my stirrings. Without looking at her directly I knew when she became aware of what was happening: her hand seemed to grow more heavy on my thigh, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed her breathing grow more rapid and deep. Then she moved, seeking the folds of the robe in my lap, her hand shyly slipped between them and I felt her coolness against my thigh. Below us Megumi continued stroking her partner. My vision blurred and the image of Satomi's hand on my thigh filled my mind so that I almost ceased to be aware of the world around me. This is such a forbidden thing, I thought, as Satomi fumbled with the fly of my underpants. Somewhere in the back of my mind the nagging question of whether or not I should stop her arose. What was I doing, letting her touch me in that way? Where would it lead? But I had let it go too far already and a kind of fatigue had come over me; it was nothing physical, I was wide awake, but a kind of moral weariness had taken hold. I no longer had the strength to resist the temptation any longer. The small voices of protest receded into the background, overwhelmed by the surge of pleasure and relief as Satomi finally freed me from my strained confinement and wrapped her soft cool fingers around me. Through the window I was only vaguely aware of seeing Megumi turn over on her stomach and place two pillows under her pelvis, raising her behind off the mat. The man knelt behind her and gently parted her legs. "I give you my most delicate flower," she said. "Be gentle with me." He leaned over her and kissed her shoulder. Satomi released me as it became obvious to us both what they were about to do. Her hand, still between the folds of my robe, withdrew back to my thigh as we both returned our attentions to the scene below. The scene in the room came more sharply into focus. I looked at Megumi: waiting, she had placed herself completely at the mercy of her lover; and at him: he knelt poised eagerly behind her, and now that I knew its intended target his erect penis took on a different aspect, blunt and sinister as he held himself, pointing outward and towards her small opening. With one hand he positioned himself, disappearing into the shadowy cleft between her thighs. The muscles in his legs tensed as he thrust forward and Megumi let out a soft cry: "Ai...!" Beside me Satomi took a deep breath, a sharp hissing inhalation that made her chest rise abruptly. She held her breath and I felt her fingers grip my thigh more tightly. "Megumi, is it too much...should I stop?" he asked, leaning over her. "No...I want all of it," she whispered, a raspy edge to her voice. "Just be slow..." Again he thrust himself against her. Megumi let out a long "Ohhhh..." as he slowly pushed himself all the way into her. They remained still for a moment. "Megumi...Megumi," his voiced was low and throaty. "You feel incredible. Am I hurting you?" She turned her head, craning her neck, to look back up at him: "I'm OK." "Can I fuck you?" His voice, strangled had almost disappeared. "Yes...fuck me...please." She turned her head away, laying her forehead on the mat, a gesture of submission that sent a surge through me. Eagerly he began slowly pushing himself against her, and each time he thrust into her she let out a faint cry. "Ai!...Ai!...Ai!..." "You're so tight," he gasped. "I'm not going to last long." His motions grew quicker, more emphatic as he let his body drape over hers, letting his full weight bear down on her. Beside me Satomi seemed to have gotten over the surprise she felt. Her hand sought me out again and her fingers softly grasped me. The touch of her smooth skin on me sent a sweet shock wave through my body. I swelled between her fingers and she responded by gripping more tightly. Rather than pleasuring me she seemed to be exploring. The sensation of touching a man was new to her and her fingers moved over me delicately, trying to define for her what they felt. She grasped the head lightly and one finger found the opening, tracing around it, then around the ridge and down the soft underside. Circling me between thumb and forefinger she squeezed at several points, feeling my reaction as more blood surged in and I grew stiffer in her hand. A more experienced woman might have gone about stroking me more purposefully, trying to make me come quickly, but Satomi had her own curiosity to satisfy first. Her shy examination was something I had never experienced before. The intensity of the pleasure I felt was only a by product of her explorations, yet I felt incredibly stimulated, to the point where I thought I might lose myself completely under her feathery touch. "Megumi...Megumi..." the man repeated over and over. The muscles of his thighs and buttocks were clenching and unclenching as he held himself pressed all the way inside her and rocked his body against hers. Passion had overtaken him completely. He had lost control. I understood something in that moment: Megumi's sweet submission, her total subjugation to the desires of her lover had in the end turned the tables. She was really the one in control. My eyes traveled to her face; her eyes, so serene, had fallen lightly closed, and on her lips a faint smile played. "Oh, you're squeezing it out of me. I can't hold on any more." Her lover bucked wildly. "Don't hold it. I want you to come," she cooed back at him, and the sweet insistence of her tone sent him over the edge. He shuddered and held himself rigid against her, twitching violently as the spasms of his orgasm wracked him. "Oh god!" he moaned and let his body drape heavily onto hers while she wriggled beneath him, clenching and unclenching her body around him, wringing as much pleasure out of him as she could. Seeing the couple below in the throes of orgasm inspired Satomi. Her grip on me grew firmer, and at last she began stroking me with a firm steady rhythm. I realized that although she had never been with a man before she must have seen enough of Megumi and her lovers to know what I would need at this point. I realized also then, that like the man in the room below me, now oozing out the last drops of his spent passion, I too had surrendered myself to a soft and inexorable touch. I looked into Satomi's eyes as she stroked me; deep in thought she looked, soaking up the novel sensations, feeling for the first time the power that pleasure could have over a man. I felt the familiar tingling sensation, and I knew I couldn't hold back any longer. My body went rigid and a large sticky jet of come spurted against the fabric of my robe. It took all of my self control not to let out an audible groan as I writhed silently. Satomi continued stroking me. I do not think she was aware of the fact that I was coming at first for she reacted with surprise when the sticky wetness flowed down over her hand. She gave a small start and released me. I could feel her rubbing her fingers together, feeling the constancy of my semen. Still throbbing with pleasure, I longed for her to grasp me again but she had become to engrossed with the sticky fluid on her fingers to pay any more attention to me. *** "I've never seen her do...that before," Satomi stammered, sounding again like a young girl and not someone who had just minutes before grasped me in a most intimate way. Even in the dim moonlight reflecting off the pond I could see her fidget. She is thinking about a certain part of her body in an entirely new way, I realized. I'm sure the thought never occurred to her before tonight, about the other ways in which two bodies might fit together. "It seemed like it was something special for her to do..." my voice trailed off. I thought back over what we had just seen: Megumi offering herself to her lover; her soft cries, a mixture of pleasure and pain. Then of course there was Satomi. She seemed to be waiting for something, restless. I didn't know what to do. Apologize? Did she want me to invite her back to my room now? I knew her parents were away, but surely they had servants in the main house, someone who would notice her absence all night. Behind the house she had carefully wiped her hand of on the edge of my robe then quickly slipped away up the hill. Not sure why I, I followed her until we were both standing beside the pond in the garden where we stood, speaking softly. I suddenly felt embarrassed by what had happened, and also responsible for her. She is after all only sixteen, I thought. I am her first, at least as far as it has gone. To some men this might be a dream come true it occurred to me, but at that moment I felt a great wave of guilt over again having lost my self control in front of her. Faintly in the distance a bell tolled. "Listen," Satomi hissed. "It's midnight!" Fin, Part 6 of 7 Richard Rivers 4/98 -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |