章 617: pta - 2
In Japan, a young woman is expected to be innocent and proper, observant of the numerous etiquette rules, and the epitome of Japanese feminine virtues. She is indoctrinated from an early age to defer to males, her seniors, and her superiors to the point where it is second nature to her. When she marries, she is further expected to be submissive, obedient, and devoted in the caring for her spouse no matter what sacrifice she must endure on his behalf.
It was this fundamental mindset that enabled me to seduce Kiyomi, the beautiful but much-neglected housewife of Ichiro, my proverbial absent-minded and geeky college instructor. When faced with the distinct possibility that her husband might be dismissed due to his personal and academic shortcomings, Kiyomi desperately sought to prevent her ingrate husband from losing face. Although unwillingly at first, she gave her petite but luscious body to me, her husband's superior, to ensure that her spouse did not fall into disgrace.
However, in the process of discharging the obligation expected of a dutiful wife, Kiyomi discovered the world of "pillowing" (the Japanese euphemism for sex). Long denied by her neglectful spouse, she succumbed to her unfulfilled emotional needs and then the craving of her physical needs. As such, Kiyomi came to accept me as her secret lover and sensei (teacher/master) in a forbidden romance and all sexual matters.
However, carrying on a secret affair with a "gaijin" (foreigner) who was head of the language department of a prestigious university was a daunting for any Japanese woman, much less a married one. While I assisted in the matter by sending Ichiro on various research trips to the United States, there were only so many coincidental meetings that a faithful wife could have with her husband's foreign superior without drawing unwanted attention. It went without saying that our subsequent trysts created a stressful quandary for Kiyomi.
"Oh, Damon-sama, it is not proper for a wife to experience so much pleasure in the embrace of a man who is not her husband," Kiyomi sighed deeply in frustration after one of our trysts. "I should be content with the quick kisses and fleeting caresses that we share, but I am so shameless for I brazenly desire more.
"Under your tutelage, I have learned the art of giving a...how do you say it...ah, 'blow job.' It gives me great pleasure feeling your manhood fill my mouth and throat, and to see that I please you by doing so. And as for the cream of your loins that floods my mouth, it is so 'oishi' (delicious). Ummm, how the taste of you lingers delightfully in my mouth long after I have left you...ummm.
"I have placed myself on the 'pill' so that I can further pleasure you as you teach me the ways of...sexual...satisfaction. As instructed, I wear no undergarments so that you may have easy access to my body should the opportunity present itself. I never imagined that a man's touch could inflame me so, making my heart beat so loudly that others must surely know of my brazen excitement.
"Ooh, how my breath catches in my throat when you so manly...so 'un-Japanese'... pull apart of the folds of my kimono to release my much too bountiful breasts. Oh, Damon-sama, you cannot know how I have been told since I was young that my bosom is much too large for a proper lady - yet, with you, they seem so right. How my embarrassingly large nipples throb fiercely for hours after leaving you, longing for more of your lips, teeth, and fingers.
"I am so ashamed that I have become enamored with your...'quickies!' Ooh, Damon-sama, when you take charge of me and bending me over, hastily push my dress or kimono up my back. To be entered so suddenly and taken so vigorously makes the wincing pain is so...exquisite. As my knees weaken and my breath quickens with your lustful and virile use of me that I cannot help but feel like a desired woman...
"But our risk is great. There are so many eyes, ears, and wagging tongue. Our rather unusually close relationship...especially when Ichiro happens to be away...draws the attention of many around us. Ooh, Damon-sama, you are my sensei and I am your obedient student; yet, I fear that one day we shall be discovered to our shame and disgrace. What are we to do?"
Surprisingly, the answer to our dilemma was found in a rather unique Japanese institution - the "love hotel." To avoid the social humiliation of being caught violating the complex etiquette system that permeated all aspects of daily life, Japanese solution was incredibly simple - if others didn't know what you did, there was no cause for shame.
These highly discrete establishments complied fully with this tenet by limiting, if not eliminating, any interaction between their guests and the hotel staff. As a result, an ambiance of customer anonymity was created, enabling their Japanese clientele to satisfy out their erotic desires by providing the utmost privacy.
The hotel that I had chosen looked like a very ordinary low-rise apartment building from the outside to avoid drawing unwanted attention to what went on within its windowless walls. Room selection, entry arrangements, other desired amenities, and payment were done online via a created persona. A unique access code allowed entry into the hotel's parking structure and then raised the garage door of your designated stall. Upon exiting the car, another code allowed access to a short entryway and unlocked the selected private suite. No one would know who occupied the room or what we did in its confines; thus, allowing us to do something socially unacceptable without anyone knowing.
"Oh my, this is not what I had expected, Damon-sama. How delightfully 'quaint,'" Kiyomi murmured as we slipped off our footwear before entering our apartment. I knew that my choice of a traditional ambiance with a lot of wood, bamboo, tatami (straw mat flooring), sparse but functional furnishing, and tasteful floral arrangements would please my lover. "I am transported to my younger days of learning the tea ceremony and ikebana (flower arrangement) at my grandmother's in the country."
"Kiyomi, it is not tea that we will be partaking of but the sake of the finest quality which should be chilling on ice in the holder at that low-rise table. But, before we imbibe in some relaxing liquid, I wish us to be more comfortable. It would please me greatly if you would change from your lovely kimono since I would dislike wrinkling it in our enjoyment. There is a garment in that box that I wish you to wear...a present from me. Please change into it."
At one time, Kiyomi would have been shocked and balked at such a request; however, our stolen moments had taught her how her clothing could become quite mussed to give her a disheveled appearance which was unacceptable. She also knew that disrobing in front of me gave me immeasurable viewing pleasure. So, with a slight nod that hid a subtle smile, Kiyomi acquiesced to my request and began undoing her tasteful kimono layer by layer.
With measured movements, Kiyomi slowly disrobed in what seemed like a century-old almost-stylized manner that gradually revealed her snow-white nape, throat, and upper chest in a most enticing way. The binding decorative silk of her broad obi was unwound from around her trim waist; her dark green and sedate external kimono was removed next; and then her pale green under-robe was shed; each was neatly folded and set aside. Once free from the restraint of her kimono robes, Kiyomi's abundant bosom surged against the thin one-piece cotton liner that was held in place by several simple ties.
Tucking her liner under her knees as she knelt, Kiyomi opened my present and gasped loudly upon seeing its contents, her hand flying to cover her open mouth. She then held up a flimsy garment similar to her liner except that it was made of translucent material trimmed with thin satin and was a vibrant red. Kiyomi blushed before saying, "Damon-sama, this is so...unusual. I don't know if I...it is so sheer that it would be like wearing...nothing." Then with a slight pause of uncertainty, she demurely murmured, "And red is the color of..."
I knew that no proper Japanese woman would wear a red kimono undergarment that for centuries had been commonly associated with the loose and immoral women of the night. I also knew that Kiyomi was reluctant because the flimsy garment would readily expose size her in the most un-Japanese way by shamelessly flaunting instead of downplaying her physical attributes and unspoken sexuality.
"Kiyomi, the material and especially the color of what you hold is to remind you of the passion and pleasure that you have hidden within you. It pleases me and will serve to introduce you to your next phase of instruction. Now, please put it on and become a different woman within the confines of this love hotel suite."
With a fleeting glance at me, Kiyomi bowed in acquiesce as she whispered, "Hai (yes), Damon-sama." Untying her liner, she revealed her breathtaking snow-white nudity, and I had to stop myself from gawking in lusty appreciation. The red liner was slipped on, and its sheer material flowed like water over the curves of her petite form, clinging to and highlighting her full breasts, hanging sensuously off her large purple-red nipples, and then pooling over the black silk of her womanliness tucked between her soft inner thighs.
With gently closed eyes, Kiyomi shivered at the feathery caress of the soft material and after a moment of absorbing the ambiance of her clothing, instinctively reached to undo her put-up hair. However, before she could release ebony tresses, I stopped her, enjoying a single lock of ebony hair that drifted freely to contrast with her snow-white skin. When she gathered herself to look demurely at me, I saw my repressed and neglected housewife transformed into my enticingly submissive but willing mistress.
"Change me, Kiyomi-chan," I uttered as I stood before her with my chin pointed towards the soft cotton robe that was neatly folded at the base of a wooden valet.
"Hai, Damon-sama," she replied as with practiced fingers, Kiyomi quickly and effortlessly undressed me. Her almond shaped eyes widening slightly in appreciation when my fleshy katana thrust proudly from my groin once freed from my restraining boxers. Her dainty hand flew to hold me, absently stroking me as she temptingly licked her delicate lips. However, before her head could complete its downward descent, Kiyomi caught herself and reining in her urges, finished dressing me in my cotton robe. After securely tucking my erection in the folds of my kimono, she bowed deeply.
"Dozo (please)," Kiyomi murmured as she gestured for me to be seated on the zabutons (large flat cushions) behind a small low table and then reached for a small ceramic flask of chilled fine sake. Shifting to kneel beside me and composing herself, she deftly filled a small ceramic cup that she had placed before me.
"Kiyomi, I do not believe in drinking alone. Please - please, pour yourself some sake."
I knew that Kiyomi was about to object, but a slight raising of my eyebrow silenced any protest and she hastened to pour a cup for herself. Meeting my raised cup, Kiyomi followed my lead as she sipped deeply. The chilled sake was delicately sweet and incredibly smooth as it slid down our throats. It also was deceptively intoxicating for the non-drinker, and with each sip, Kiyomi's bodily tension, mental reservations, and along with her long-held inhibitions so were washed away.
"Oh, Damon-sama, I feel...so hot...and...different," Kiyomi sighed heavily as she leaned against my chest after two sake flasks had been drained. Oblivious that her flimsy robe had slipped from her and that her ample breasts swayed freely, Kiyomi pushed open the folds of my robe to caress my hairy chest in fascination. "My, you are so virile...so manly...unlike Ichiro who is hairless like a little boy. Touching you so boldly makes me feel..."
Sliding her hand behind my head, Kiyomi pulled my face to hers to passionately kiss me. Her tongue invaded my mouth to duel with mine in a wild frenzy to unspoken desire. Tilting her head back slightly to utter a breathy, "Wanton. I am so shameless with you. And in my desire for you, I take such unseemly liberties without asking my sensei's permission."
As she pressed me back, Kiyomi spun around to blaze a hot wet path down my body before mumbling, "This place... this crimson robe... the sake...oh, Damon-sama, you have transformed me into a 'yūjo' (a woman of pleasure, prostitute) who plied her services to gaijin in the teahouses of the port cities."
With that said, Kiyomi dropped her head to my lap and wrapped her delicate lips about my egg-like penis head, giving me one hell of a deep-throat head job as she devoured my rock-hard shaft. To think that just a few months ago I had seduced my lover and introduced her as to how to pleasure a man with her mouth. Now, fellatio had become second-nature and gave her as much pleasure as it did me.
"Ooh, how I love your manhood in my mouth," Kiyomi uttered before resuming her furious sucking on my cock. While her petite hand slid easily up and down my saliva-coat cock that thrust rigidly into the air, Kiyomi gasped for "Ooh, how I have come to savor the taste of your manhood and the seed of your loins."
However, as Kiyomi resumed her eye-opening blow job, I pulled her on top of me with my head wedged between her inner thighs to gaze upon her twisting femininity. The sight of her clench butthole winking lewdly at me reminded me of a carnal urge that I had suppressed when I first seduced my Asian housewife. Due to a lack of time or privacy. I had failed to fulfill to consummate that desire in our subsequent trysts
"Damon-sama, what are you doing to me? Are you..." Kiyomi jerked and emitted a sharp squeal when I firmly clutched and spread her spongy buttocks to ream her sweet tush with my stiff rasping tongue.
"You cannot surrender to your inner yūjo unless you are well-versed giving erotic pleasure in all ways to your lord and master, Kiyomi-chan. No orifice or body part should be denied me, Kiyomi. It is time that you to complete your pillowing education by surrendering your last virginity."
A shrill whine escaped her lips as Kiyomi realized my erotic intent when I squeezed fingertip into her brown pucker. "Dame (stop), dame, oh, please, Damon-sama!"
I had learned that in true Japanese feminine manner, Kiyomi's entreaties for me to "stop" were often a sham to save face held and were not representative of her actual desires. Her previous protests to stop eventually gave way to groans of desire as unexpected pleasure as, slowly but surely, her body betrayed her true desire. However, this time her plea was somehow different as she fervently struggled in distress.
As she sought to compose herself, Kiyomi's angst was a strange combination of my displeasure that was clearly registered on my face, her own embarrassment of her denial, and some aspect yet to be revealed. With downcast eyes, she knelt with her legs pressed together and a palm on the outside of each knee, and perform 'dogeza' (ritualized bowing of atonement). Bowing until her forehead lightly touched the floor, Kiyomi uttered in a trembling voice, "Watashi o yurushite kudasai" (please forgive me), Damon-sama. I have shamed myself for acting so improperly. It's just that..."
The tears trickled out of the corners of almond-shaped eyes washed away my anger, I murmured, "What, Kiyomi-chan? Tell me." When she tried but then balked, I let out a loud sigh and sternly uttered, "Tell me, Kiyomi."
The tone of my voice was like the crack of a whip, and Kiyomi quickly straighten. Then not wishing to further anger or disappoint me, she hesitantly mumbled, "'Chikan' is the Japanese term to describe the molestation of young girls, normally school girls on crowded public transit trains. Commuters are crammed so tightly into the train cars is such that one cannot move, and this gives certain men the opportunity to take advantage of young girls.
"People around the victim are often aware of what is happening, but none will help. Most feel that it is the girl's fault for tempting men or for allowing such a thing happen to her. The authorities who are seldom inclined to do anything for a victim who may have never see her assailant, and making an accusation exposes the victim to shame, scorn, and humiliation."
"Kiyomi, were you a victim of chikan?"
"Hai, Damon-sama, I was. For much of my schooling, my female classmates and I were aware of chikan and resolved not to fall prey to such perverse men. We traveled as a group that would not hesitate of voice our collected alarm should any of us be in danger of becoming a victim. However, the month before graduation I was required to live with my ailing grandmother and had to commute to school alone. Given my rather petite but buxom figure and rather shy demeanor, it went without saying that I drew the unwanted attention of those males who practiced chikan.
"I remember vividly my first time. The conductors were pushing more passengers into an already packed train car that would take me to my school. We were so crowded that I could not move as I was crushed against the back of the man in front of me, and hem in by the man on either side of me and especially the one behind me. With one of my hands holding the ceiling rung and the other clasping my books to me, I didn't suspect how vulnerable I would be.
"The train shook and jostled the packed passengers, and I thought that touching against another could not be helped. However, that was until I felt the hand of the man in front of me reach back to grope my... 'womanhood'...through my school skirt. Shocked, I jerked back and away from his violating fingers. However, if anything, my struggles invited the attention of the men around me, and I was pressed even tighter. Those on either side of me averted their faces so that I could not identify them, but their hands found me, and slyly at first and then boldly began to fondle my breasts.
This, however, made me press against the groin of the man who was behind me, and I whimpered pitifully when I felt his hands grip and squeeze my 'oshiri' (buttocks). As I uttered a futile protest, the back of my skirt was lifted and the man's hand quickly slipped under my panties. I squirmed futilely as I tried to evade the violating hands but my efforts only caused the four men to press further against me, preventing me from moving. Although I cried out to be left alone, those around us paid any attention to me or secretly watched my molestation.
The loud rattling of the train swallowed my shrill whine of surprise and objection when suddenly a finger was slid between my oshiri and pressed against my kōmon (anus), making me rise to the balls of my feet. Despite my frantic squirming, a persistent finger continued to worm its way further into me, taking my breath away so I could not cry out. Just then the car bell rang indicating that approach of the next train station. In a flash, I was ushered out and left feeling totally dazed and violated, yet unable to identify my chikan assailants."
"Kiyomi, why didn't you tell your family or your friends?"
"I was sickened and greatly shamed at being violated, Damon-sama. I could not understand what had happened to me and in a way, felt that it was my fault. You must understand, Damon-sama, that Japanese girls are taught not to draw unwanted attention to themselves and not to express anger against an adult male, even an offending one. And at the time, I felt...helpless.
could not turn to my friends who would have been shocked, for fear that eventually the word would get to my family and bring great shame. My family would have blamed me for drawing unwanted male attention and would have questioned me as to what I had done wrong."
"So, what did you do after that incident?"
"I know now that I was girlishly foolish but I wished that the incident was an isolated one. Unfortunately, it was not. It was as if my assailants waited for me to catch the morning train and somehow managed to box me in the crowd of the train car before repeatedly assaulting me at the same time. My breasts were openly groped, squeezed to the point where I whimpered in wincing pain as my nipples were pinched through my blouse and bra. More than once a stranger's hand unbuttoned my blouse to snaked under my bra and obscenely feel me.
The man in front of me would somehow manage to lift my skirt to cup and caress me, making me squirm as I tried to dislodge his unwanted hand. Although my wriggling prevented him from pulling down the front of my panties, he stroked and probed my sex in the most embarrassing manner. If I closed my legs to trap his hand thrust between my legs, he would saw it back and forth to cause me great shame as my panties became wet with my bodily fluids. If I did not, his fingers slipped under the crotch of my panties to cause me great alarm and shame.
"However, it was the faceless man behind me who was the worse. He could squeeze both of my breasts or join in the finger play of the man in front of me. However, more likely than not, he enjoyed violating me repeatedly. Emboldened by my inability to stop him, he wasted little time inserting his filthy finger and crudely invading me. He drove repeated into me causing me great discomfort and greater shame. Then like an eel, he would wiggle his offending finger in me while whispering into my ear vile comments like 'yariman' (slut), 'saseko' (whore), and finally 'Fushidarana onna' (You are such a slut).
"By the end of that long month, I had reached a point of utter despair and complete surrender, and silently accepted my molestation especially that of my kōmon by chikan assailants. In all that time, never once did I clearly see their faces for they quickly turned from me and blended into the rushing crowd. Perhaps I did not wish to see my assailant's sneers of contempt or delight; all that I know was that I hung my head in burning humiliation and wept in disgrace after each time.
"Damon-sama, I do not seek to displease you for you are my master, my sensei, and my love," Kiyomi pleaded. " But, when you touch my kōmon in the way that you do, I am helplessly transported back to that crowded morning train and me being molested as a schoolgirl. I relive the shameful incidents of my youth."
Holding an obvious distraught Kiyomi, I tenderly whispered to her as I lightly stroked her nude body, "You are no longer a frightened and helpless schoolgirl, Kiyomi. You are a grown and beautiful woman who is married to a college instructor and are the mistress of your husband's supervisor. In my arms, you have discovered the pleasure of a man's body and the passion of your own.
"Have you forgotten the times you have boldly asked, 'Anata wa sei desu (Do you want to have sex)? Or those when you called out to on the very precipice of orgasmic bliss, 'Ikasete! Sugu ikasete!' (Make me cum! Make me cum now!). As a young woman...a virgin teenager...you would have never uttered these things, much less enjoyed them. But as my lover, you do. And as my lover, yours is to hear my desires and obey, is it not?"
"Hai, Damon-sama. I yearn to serve and to please you."
"When you became mine, did I not tell you then that you would be doing things to please me that would seem improper at first? What was once strange and shameful to you is now natural, is it not?
"Hai, hai, my sensei."
"Kiyomi, while I am no faceless chikan assailant, I desire your body. Like the men on either side of you, I have delighted in the bounty of our breast; yet, unlike them, I have tasted of the sweetness of your plum-like nipples. Like the man in front of you, I have reveled in touching you between your tender inner thighs; yet, unlike him, I have sunken my manhood into you as a man should to his woman. However, unlike the man behind you, I will possess and enjoy your kōmon, and share with you the pleasures of what we in the West call anal sex or sodomy. You will be mine, Kiyomi. Do you understand and accept this?"
Kneeling and then bowing to me in dogeza, Kiyomi contritely intoned, "Hai! Forgive me, Damon-sama. I am ashamed that I have disrespected you so. Thank you for correcting me. Please, sensei, teach me the pleasures of what you call anal sex. I shall endeavor to be your humble and willing student."
"Then good, let us begin," I murmured as I took Kiyomi into my arms, kissing her gently until she moaned softly, her tongue dancing a sultry tango with my tongue. My hands hefted her full breasts, massaging her spongy firmness until her large nipples became engorged and lengthen appreciably. The tip of my tongue flick and the lazily swirled around each jutting teat until Kiyomi couldn't take anymore and twisted in my embrace, turning her back to me.
I, however, kissed the back of her neck and shoulders as I caressed her arms and sides. Cupping her globular breasts, I enjoyed how they squished and sprung back for more. Pressing them together, I slowly squished them from her heaving chest to her extended nipple. My grasping fingers captured and then tweaked, twisted, and then tugged each nipple as far from her chest as possible, before releasing them to start her excruciating mammary stimulation again. Finally, Kiyomi could take no more of my torment, she pulled away and threw her trembling form belly down.
I kissed the back of Kiyomi's neck, shoulders, and back, eliciting groans of grown stimulation. My lips travel down her back before traveling down one of her legs. Kissing her behind her knee, my mouth wetly sucked up her inner thigh, and just before reaching her nether region, turn to lick and light nip the buttock of that leg. This erotic torture was slowly done again except to the other leg and by the time I nibbled on her spongy bun, Kiyomi was writhing groaning passionately, her butt lifting to thrust itself in my face.
"Oh, Damon-sama! I feel as if my body is swarmed with ants that are biting and stinging in such exquisite agony! I beg of you to put me out of my excruciating ecstasy!"
Grabbing her butt cheeks, I spread them apart to reveal her hidden brown rosebud. A flick of my tongue brought a sharp gasp from Kiyomi's lips, and a dripping wet kiss that immediately followed, caused her to cry out softly. When I pushed my stiff tongue into her squirming anus, my lover whimpered girlishly in surprise, delight, and definite anticipation.
"Kiyomi, kneel with your face on the zabutons and your oshiri in the air," I uttered as I quickly gave my fingers with heavy-coating of lubrication. A shrill whine escaped her lips as I pressed a slippery finger gradually into her squirming anal pucker. "Oh...ohhh, Damon-sama," she whimpered breathlessly, "What have you done to me? My kōmon is being penetrated like it was when I was but a schoolgirl on a crowded train. Yet, this time it is so different. Ooh, this is not what the faceless man did to me...ooh."
My response was to introduce a second finger in an asshole brought a shrill whine but no futile pleas for me to stop my anal reaming as a visible shiver shot up and then back down her spine. Slowly but surely, however, Kiyomi began to rock back and forth, taking more and more of my fingers into her loosening ass.
Mounting Kiyomi from behind, I let my raging hard-on plow her pussy slit to be coated her flowing feminine fluids, rubbing against her stiff love pearl and then teasingly plopping in and out of her sopping wet cunt. I knew that Kiyomi was ready when her butt began to wiggle and then gyrated enticingly in response to my pumping fingers.
Withdrawing my fingers, I slowly pressed my well-lubed flanged penis head into her anus. A sharp cry pierced the air, but Kiyomi didn't try to pull away. Instead, she lowered her face to the zabutons to better present herself to me. Under steady pressure, Kiyomi's fleshy rosebud seemed to bloom, opening and gradually spreading around my cock head. When I finally popped through her spasming sphincters, Kiyomi rose to her hands and knees as her back arched sharply as she gulped urgently for air.
"Itai (It hurts)! Itai! Ooh, Damon-sama. Itai," a twisting Kiyomi whimpered in a child-like voice, "Your manhood is so big within my kōmon. Itai! I beg of you, Damon-sama, to be patient with me. Please do not move just yet. Let me get used to you..."
While Kiyomi trembled as she sought to accommodate me, my fingertips forked and then slowly massaging her hooded love button. Before long, Kiyomi's moans became guttural groans as waves of stimulation surged through her petite twisting form. Her liquid excitement flowed freely and pooled around my embedded manhood before flowing down her thighs. Gathering herself, Kiyomi gradually rocked back and forth, taking me deeper and deeper into her until I was fully buried in her churning bowels.
"Oooh, Damon-sama, I feel so very different being filled with your presence. I burn not with shame but I...'wa anata no tame ni yokubō o moyashimasu' (I burn with lust for you). I wonder what might have happened if you had been that faceless chikan behind me on the train. What would you have done to me...and what would I have done in turn?"
"Kiyomi-chan, within every virtuous woman is a 'yūjo' who is full of wanton lust and just begging to be released. You are an erotic woman who is meant to be taken by a man, often and repeatedly. Isn't this what you want, Kiyomi-chan?"
Kiyomi's only response was to push back, gently at first and then harder and harder against me. Her quivering buns slapped loudly against my groin and turned a vivid pink as sweat formed and then dripped from her snow-white skin. Suddenly a shrill ecstasy ripped from her throat, and Kiyomi shook uncontrollably in a sudden gut-wrenching orgasm that had her sexual juices spurting and drenching the zabutons under us.
Before I knew it, I was spewing what seemed like an ocean of sperm up her molten rectum as I drove deep into her. When I finally let go of her hips, Kiyomi fell forward as she collapsed in utter exhaustion, causing my still-throbbing cock to slip from her. Spreading her rounded buns, I was delighted to see how her dilated asshole oozed freely with my creamy cum.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Oh, Damon-sama, my sensei," Kiyomi sighed as she lounged in my arms in the steamy but soothing waters of the apartment's ofuro (hot tub). "I ache from the lesson that you have just given me. Yet, I revel in the new sensations that fill and stimulate me. I have never felt so...alive. It is so unlike how I was raised to believe that I should be...how do you say it...umm, 'prim and proper.' As a schoolgirl, I was so ashamed that my body invited chikan and how I was made to feel at fault and disgraced. But now with you, I am pleased that my body gives immeasurable pleasure to you as well as to me.
"Sad to say, how I wish that you could be my husband instead of neglectful Ichiro. Ooh, the pleasure we could share..."
"Do not torment yourself so, Kiyomi-chan. It is our lot in life to find and take pleasure in each other. In this love hotel, we now have to privacy to be our desired selves...to experience our burning desires and innermost pleasures...and to live out our wildest fantasies.
"When we are finished with this ofuro, we will enjoy a light repast of the meal and sake that I have ordered. We shall then sleep and make love numerous times throughout the night and following morning you will awake in my arms as it was meant to be. For this stay and in those to come, we work to free to be the woman you were taught not to be. Enjoy being a yariman, Kiyomi-chan."
"Hai, sensei. Your wish is my command." Then looking at me with a smoldering look, Kiyomi murmured, "Tell me how may I better please and delight you, Damon-sama?
"Kiyomi-chan, do you still have your high school uniform?"
"I believe it is stored in one of my chests as a memento. Would I still fit it? Hmmm, I am sure that with some minor alterations, I should be able to fit into it quite nicely. Why do you ask, Damon-sama?"
"When I was looking at the selection of rooms in this love hotel, I came across a room that has a 'train-car' theme. At the time, I could not understand why such a setting was being offered. However, from what you have shared with me, 'chikan fantasies' must be quite popular among this establishment's clientele since the room was reserved for over the next month."
"Hmmm," Kiyomi purred with an impish smile gracing her delicate lips, "Perhaps when we next return to this establishment, you might be willing to relive some of my chikan memories in that room or other lurid encounters of my schoolgirl years...but with much more agreeable endings, yes?"
"Hai, Kiyomi-chan, I am sure that my chikan of you will prove much more enjoyable than that you experienced as a schoolgirl. I'm sure that if properly persuaded, I might be induced to pleasing rather than frightening my teenage victim. And after today's session, I am sure that I will insert something bigger than a finger in your sweet little kōmon.
"However, what other encounters do you refer to," I mumbled as I absently thumbed on one of Kiyomi's enlarged nipples. "From the use of the word 'lurid,' would I be wrong in assuming that they involved men and something of a shameful or sexual nature?
"Damon-sama, as you know Japanese girls are extremely vulnerable because they are raised to be submissive and docile when it comes to men, especially older men. That is why they often fall prey to chikan for they feel helpless to stop their molestation and will not report it.
But Japanese girls are also raised with rigid expectations placed on them by their parents, family, and society, and they do not receive the benefits and support afforded to their male siblings. As such, they sometimes rebel and seek to obtain that which they have not. There are times when schoolgirls or 'joshi kosei' rebel and obtain material assets through 'enjo-kōsai' or 'compensated dating' between school girls with older men.
'Enkō' which combines parts of both terms, is a custom that involves a teenage girl who after school dallies with or dates older men. The girls are always dressed in their school uniform and situate themselves in certain areas where they may be seen by potential customers. Sometimes these dates just involve a chat, a walk, or spending time together in a restaurant or bar. But enkō always involves a schoolgirl being given money, gifts, or goods by her older male customer."
"Kiyomi-chan, are you telling me that these schoolgirls are yūjo?
"Enkō is not commonly thought of what gaijin would consider prostitution even though high schoolgirl dating is a business and most of the time involve money that the girls would not normally receive from their families. But some customers take advantage of the ingrained deference that Japanese girls have towards old men, and this may lead to some form of sex. It is hard for me as a Japanese woman to explain why this is not considered prostitution...enkō is just an accepted custom between schoolgirls and older men."
"Hmmm, this enkō custom is intriguing and definitely worth exploring during our next session here. Hmmm, Kiyomi-chan? How is it that you know so much about enkō Have you ever engage in enjo-kōsa when you were a schoolgirl?"
With downcast eyes, my Japanese mistress turned her lovely face from me and after a moment's hesitation, softly whispered, "Hai, Damon-sama."
Oh, Damon-same, I am so...how do you say it...ah, exhausted...from our pillowing. As a married woman, I should not feel such happiness and contentment in the arms of a man who is not my husband. I have become so shameless...but when you touch me, kiss me, and make love to me, I cannot help but yearn for more. Alas, what has happened to me in the confines of this love hotel?"
Such was the rhetorical remorse of the pretty Japanese wife of the absent-minded librarian who worked for me. Using her husband's personal and professional well-being as leverage, I had manipulated and seduced his dutiful buxom wife into becoming my willing mistress who once given a "good fucking" by a real man, craved the sexual fulfillment long denied to her by her neglectful and self-centered husband. Kiyomi quickly became utterly addicted to my 'gaijin' (Western) cock and the fantasies and perversities that came with it.
"Hush, Kiyomi-chan. Do not berate yourself for yielding to the yearnings of your own luscious body. You are young and your carnal desires have reached the point where you can no longer deny them. Here in this love hotel where our identities are unknown to others, you are free to be and do whatever you wish. I am blessed with being the catalyst in the release of your inner-most erotic needs...something you should just accept."
"Hai, Damon-sama. I am grateful for your tutelage in the world of pillowing. Despite my foolish worrying, I appreciate for your understanding and patience, Damon-sama. And to think that before you and my regrettably disappointing husband, I was ignorant in the ways of a man and his woman."
"That is not quite true, Kiyomi-chan. You have shared with me that before your marriage to Ichiro, you had 'encounters' with the chikan on a crowded train. Those anonymous men molested you daily and despite the circumstances, you found your young body responding to their molestation. Is this not correct, Kiyomi-chan?"
My Japanese lover dropped her head and after a moment's pause contritely uttered, "Hai, Damon-sama, you are correct. It was a period of my young adulthood that I have tried to forget. At the time, I blamed myself greatly for drawing such unwanted attention. My disgrace at being molested almost daily was increased by knowing that those around me who knew what was happening to me but did nothing - and more so of how my very own bodily responded. I experienced bodily sensations that I never knew existed and began to wonder if I was truly the 'yariman' (slut) as the chikan had called me."
Tears swelled in her eyes as she remembered being sexually assaulted on the crowded commuter train. I lifted her chin and pressed my lips to hers, kissing her sensually until she responded and sighed contently. Yet, not wanting to let Kiyomi immerse herself in erotic satisfaction to forget, I urge Kiyomi to continue her disclosure of her sexual past.
"Hmmm, I seem to also recall, Kiyomi-chan, that during our last rendezvous in this love hotel, you mentioned briefly of the practice 'enjo-kōsai,' or 'enkō' as it is commonly referred to. This is when Japanese schoolgirls are given money or luxury gifts for spending time with older men. To my surprise, you defended enkō as a time-honored custom between older men and younger women, and that it was not prostitution. It was only after being questioned by me that you finally admitted to having participated in 'enkō.'"
My mistress tried not to squirm and betray her uneasiness but failed miserably. Being totally nude, the best thing that she could do was to slightly turn her face from me as to avoid what she knew was coming next. "Look at me, Kiyomi-chan. I have not insisted that you explain more and have instead, waited for you to share this aspect of your younger life. However, my patience has worn thin. Tell me of your enjo-kōsai experiences, Kiyomi-chan."
With downcast eyes, Kiyomi nodded before murmuring contritely, "Hai, Damon-sama, 'Honto ni gomen ne (I very am sorry).' I have been...willful...with the hope that you would not remember what I had admitted earlier. It was a period of great uncertainty and conflict, and one that I do not wish to remember. My daily chikan encounters' left me feeling...violated...humiliated...and doubting myself.
"I was eighteen when molested on the train and had never known a man or boy while attending an all-girl school. I had no one to whom I could tell of my ordeals. If I shared my encounters with schoolmates, the entire school would eventually come to know what happened to me and then most certainly would my family.
"My family would not have understood and would have said that I was to blame for attracting such unwelcome attention. They would claim that I had brought great loss of face upon them, and would not have considered that I was helpless once surrounded by the chikan. I became...how do you say it...ah, despondent...especially when I began believing that I was at fault.
"Then one afternoon after school, I had decided to go to the downtown shopping area to get my mind off my worries. However, I was caught in a sudden downpour without an umbrella or coat. The rain was so heavy that even though I held my books over my head, I quickly became drenched in my school uniform.
"With nowhere to go to escape the rain, I was about to cry when I heard, 'Watashi no ikigomi o yurushimasu' (please excuse my forwardness) as a bamboo-and- lacquered-paper umbrella bloomed open over my head. When I turned, there was an elderly gentleman who stepped closely next to me.
"I was shocked at first but quickly recovered to mumble 'Domo arigatou gozaimasu' (thank you very much) as I bowed to him in gratitude. I can remember him smiling at me but in a way that made me shiver, but at the time I thought it was due to being cold and wet. He was dressed in a yukata (a light summer kimono) with wooden geta (wooden elevated Japanese slippers/footwear), and was what one would expect of a friendly old man.
"'Don't be afraid,' I recalled him saying, 'Forgive me if I startled you. I'm just a harmless old man who happened to see a lovely young lady getting soaked in the rain.' He grinned in a kindly way but his eyes were not looking at mine but elsewhere. I gasped when I realized that he was staring at my wet blouse that clung to my bra-covered breasts. I blushed vividly when I saw that my large nipples had hardened to make sizeable bumps in the thin soaked material.
"Using my books to cover my breasts, I immediately apologized for my improper appearance and introduced myself. However, when I sought to obtain his name, but he casually said, 'I have long since been retired and have no need for formal names. If it pleases you, will you simply call me 'Ojisan' (uncle)?' While I was mildly surprised at his refusal and that he had asked my permission, I nodded and agreed since he personified what I thought an uncle should be.
"I was shivering when Ojisan said, 'Come, little one, let us have a hot bowl of ramen (noodles in a hot broth). It will not dry you, but it will at least warm you from the inside out.' When I meekly sought to refuse, mentioning that I had little money and did not wish to impose upon him, he chuckled and then said it must be hard to be in the shopping area. Before I could say anything, Ojisan added, 'Not to worry, I will treat you. Please allow me, neh?"
"When I tried to politely decline, Ojisan said in a friendly manner, 'Iya, iya, iya (No, no, no), and don't even think of paying or owing me anything. If anything, think of it as my payment to you, a lovely young woman, for spending time with an old lonely man. Come, come, come, I won't do anything impolite or improper in a public place as that ramen shop across the way. 'Douzo' (please go ahead),' Ojisan said with a pleasant smile as he ushered me through the parted the door curtains 'Come, let me treat you for your company and time.'
"At the time, any thought of 'enjo-kōsai' did not occur to me. All I knew was cold and wet, the ramen was hot and delicious, and Ojisan was delightfully disarming and pleasant. He had a way about him that by the time I finished my bowl of ramen, I had unintentionally let my ordeal with the chikan on the train slip from my lips.
"I remember cringing as I expected Ojisan to blame me for the episodes with stinging comments of my unvirtuous behavior. Yet, to my complete amazement, he was very understanding and compassionate - something that I would not have expected from one of his generation. I felt myself warming to this kindly old man who not only supported and comforted me, but openly shared of his life - his marriage, the loss of his wife, and the subsequent loneliness that followed.
"The rain had stopped, and I remember saying that I must be going so as not to cause my family undue alarm. Bowing deferentially to Ojisan outside of the ramen shop. I told him that I was in debt to him and didn't know how to repay his unexpected kindness"
"'Ho, that is easy, Kiyomi-chan,' Ojisan quickly replied, 'if you are willing to keep company with this lonely old man. Perhaps one day when the weather is better, you might agree to walk with me. I enjoy talking with you and you would brighten a lonely old man's life. I would like to hear what had happened in your day and allow me to share the same with you. I seldom talk with people...and the silence can be deafening. It would give me much esteem and pleasure for an old man like me to be seen in the company of such a lovely young woman such as yourself.'
"When I hesitated, Ojisan was quick to discern my discomfort and said, 'Of course, if you do not wish to, then I would be pleased if you could every once in a while, simply smile and nod when you pass me by.'
"I immediately felt embarrassed for seeming to be so ungrateful for his previous kindness and humbled my unintended slight to his small and seemingly harmless request of me. Before I knew it, I found myself saying, "No, no, you misunderstand. It would be my pleasure to spend a late afternoon with you, Ojisan. Shall we say the same time and place tomorrow?"
"'Oh, Kiyomi-chan, you do know how to delight this old man's heart. Yes, let us meet here tomorrow right after your school on the corner where we first met. Until then...' I gasped as my senior bowed low to me especially in public, and was quick to return his bow with an even lower one. This brought a wide smile of Ojisan's face. 'Remember now, anyone should inquire about us, you are to say that I'm your Ojisan. That's all others need to know about our relationship. Agreed?'
"Wishing to make amends for my earlier etiquette mistake, I hastily but cheerfully agreed, 'Hai, Ojisan! You will be 'my uncle' to those who may inquire. Please excuse, 'your niece' but I must go so as not to cause my family undue concern as to my whereabouts. Until tomorrow, my Ojisan.'
"Damon-sama, I was such a...how do you gaijin say it...ah, 'clueless'...yes, a naive young woman. I was completely unaware that I had just entered into 'enjo-kōsai' for I had been compensated by an older man for my time. Instead of being given money, I accepted a bowl of ramen in exchange for my company...a simple payment but a payment nevertheless."
"But, Kiyomi-chan, a bowl of noodles can hardly be equated to luxury gifts or cash that are associated with 'compensated dating.'" I let my lips wrap themselves around a jutting meaty nipple, sucking on it and drawing soft moans from Kiyomi's lips. Then pulling back before she lost her train of thought, I urged my Japanese lover to continue her tale.
"Ummm, hai, Damon-sama. So, I would learn over time, Ojisan was very crafty and extremely patient like a spider that weaves its web and waits for a naïve fly. When we next met, we went for a casual stroll where we were seen enjoying each other's company by many. During our stroll, he asked much about my personal life to which I shared that I was the youngest of a large family. As a result, the family resources of a scholastic family were stretched thin, leaving little for nonessential things that a young woman might want. Still, that didn't stop me from looking in the shopping area and wishing.
"When he asked why my boyfriend had not bought me presents, I blushed and said that being in an all-girl school before my horrendous experience on the train, I had never associated with or known a male. I sadly remarked that the chikan on the train had unfortunately been my first introduction to men, and one that left me thoroughly stunned and confused. Wistfully mumbling my thoughts, I wished that one day I would find someone who would take care of me.
"Ojisan chuckled in a kindly manner as reassuringly said, 'And so you will, Kiyomi-chan. You may be surprised just how soon you wish shall be granted. But, ah, this has been a pleasant and enlightening afternoon, and you should be getting home.'
"When I was about to say my goodbye, Ojisan produced a 'noshibukuro' (a small decorative gift envelope) and with both hands, offered it to me saying, 'Tsumaranai mono desu ga' (This is a trifling thing, but please accept it). Kiyomi-chan, a pretty girl like you should be happy. I hope that this small token will buy you something that will make you smile.'
"I can remember hesitating at the unexpected gift, Ojisan quickly added with a slight bow, 'Do not worry. This is but a small token of my appreciation for you sharing not only your time with me but also sharing your feelings and experiences. Please, accept this for you would make an old man very happy.'
"Damon-sama, you understand my...how would you say it, ah, my 'dilemma.' On one hand, to accept a monetary gift while others were around us...and secretly watching the transaction...might have been viewed our outing had been a 'joshi kosei osanpo' or a 'walking date' often associated with an enjo-kōsai relationship. Although Ojisan's monetary gift had nothing to do with the exchange of sexual favors for money and in all likelihood was innocent, those around us did not know this.
"Yet, an elderly male was bowing to a high school girl to accept his offered gift. It was unseemly for me to refuse the noshibukuro that he held out to me with both hands. To do so would cause Ojisan to lose face in public and disgrace me for having humiliated my senior. Bowing low, I reached out with both hands to accept the proffered gift.
"But before letting go, Ojisan muttered in a low voice meant only for me, 'Let us agree to meet again tomorrow, Kiyomi-chan, if your family obligations and school demands permit. Your Ojisan looks forward to continuing our sharing with one another.'
"So as not to draw further attention to us, I had no choice but to nod and say, 'Hai, Ojisan.'"
"Letting go of his envelope, Ojisan straighten and said so that others might hear, "Buy yourself something pretty, Kiyomi-chan.' He turned to go and then stopped and said, 'Excuse me, Kiyomi-chan, but if possible, could you wear something more comfortable clothing than your school uniform. Perhaps a light and bright kimono, yes? It would please your Ojisan?'
With others listening, I could only say cheerfully with a quick nod of my head, "Hai, Ojisan."
My hand lazily glided over the soft belly of the Japanese housewife who had become my lover and then slipped between her tender inner thighs. Slowly caressing her silky dark muff, I dipped a finger into her feminine slit. Kiyomi moaned appreciatively as she gyrated her hips as I traveled between her engorged pussy lips.
"Please excuse me, Kiyomi-chan," I introjected as my hand teasingly retreated to her stomach. "There is something that bothers me. Your Ojisan seems to be... 'setting you up'...ahh, staging...for some end purpose that is not quite clear."
"Hai, Damon-sama. I too felt something was not right but could not discern at the time. What makes you think that I was...you do you say...'being set up?'"
"Hmmm, my first 'red flag' was why Ojisan refused to give you his real name, and instead, insisted that you refer to him as my uncle. Then after your first meeting, he manipulated you into meeting him the next day. Lastly, that thing with the noshibukuro not only obligated you in public but made others think that you had engaged in enjo-kōsai' with Ojisan when you had not.
"Kiyomi-chan, when you first mentioned that you had engaged in enjo-kōsai' and argued that it wasn't teenage prostitution, I did some research. You were correct that it is a time-honored custom of elderly men compensating young girls for their time, companionship, and in many instances, sexual favors. While prostitution or paying for sex is illegal in Japan, sex not among 'acquaintances' is not, even if it involves an exchange of money or gifts. That is why Ojisan wouldn't tell you his name and insisted that you call him Ojisan and especially in public...so you and he would be seen by others as 'acquaintances.'"
"Oh, Damon-sama It is little wonder that you are my sensei for you are quite perceptive. How foolish I was, trusting a strange man. Only now I know just what a fool I had been.
"Yet, I have to confess that Ojisan had a disarming way about him so different from the 'traditional' men in my life. He appeared to be kind, understanding, and most of all, accepting of me and what had happened to me as would be expected of a trusted uncle. I found myself telling him everything in great detail of my humiliation that my body responded to being molested at the hands of strange men. When tears came to my eyes at my recounting, he magically produced a handkerchief, comforted me, and then urged me to continue in my disclosure. I thought nothing when his hand just happened to brush against my ample bosom as he gave me a comforting hug.
"As we continued to meet, I came to dismiss Ojisan's brushes, strokes, and probes of my body as being inadvertent and harmless - something excusable given our growing familiarity. It did not hurt that Ojisan's noshibukuro at the end of each rendezvous were generous, I was able to buy those things that I had long admired but could not afford. When I showed these items and clothing to Ojisan, I was rewarded with reaffirming praise and more generous noshibukuro."
"Kiyomi-chan, from what you have told me thus far, you were innocent in your dealings with this mysterious Ojisan. You did nothing wrong...nothing to be sorry for."
"Oh, Damon-sama, I am embarrassed to say that your conclusion was not so. I am now thoroughly ashamed at how Ojisan wormed his way into my confidence and ultimately into my kimono. The unusual closeness between our bodies should have caused me concern, yet when he complained of various bodily aches, I thought nothing of freely massaging his head, neck, and shoulders.
"It seemed natural that when Ojisan asked if he could return the favor and that I acquiesced. However, his touches, rubbings, and kneading were not confined to my head and shoulders. As we continued over time to exchange massages, his hands travel from my shoulders and down my arms, his fingers somehow managed to press into the sides of my bosom that was made bountiful by my tight obi.
"'Ah, Kiyomi-chan," Ojisan jokingly muttered as his hand encountered my obi, 'Curse the man who thought of the obi that holds the kimono tightly closed. It lies just under a woman's breasts and just above her...nether delights...and is such a formidable barrier of cloth for a lecherous old man such as I.' Although embarrassed with his comment and uneasy with his friendly touching, I said nothing.
"Our strolls somehow ended with us sitting on a wooden bench under the eaves of a small isolated shed next to a stream. There we could talk as we sat closely side by side as water and time flowed by. Ojisan had taken to casually placing his hand on my thigh and mine on his as we talked. While such intimacy was at first disconcerting, I came to take it as a demonstration of the fondness of our relationship."
I et my hand slowly drift from the snowy-whiteness of Kiyomi's soft belly to her thigh that I lightly stroked before slipping between her tender thighs. "And was Ojisan content with just placing his hand on your thigh or did he want to be where my hand is?"
"Ooh, Damon-sama, if you keep touching me as such, I will not be able to complete my story. Do you wish to pillow more? It would be preferable than recounting this miserable chapter of my life. What is that? Continue on? Hai, Damon-sama.
"You are correct in your suspicions of Ojisan. Unfortunately, I discovered his true nature and intent when we were once again sitting on our bench as rain fell on the wooden shingles of the shed. I don't exactly remember how he did it...I think he leaned over me to point to a boat in the stream and in so doing let his hand slipped off my lap to delve between my kimono-covered thighs.
"Sore o tomete kudasai (please stop it!), Ojisan!" tumble from my shocked lips as I sought to push away his intruding hand. However, with a skillful twist of his hand, he managed to escape my hold and then grasp the wrist of my hand. Before I knew it, he quickly shoved my hand under the fold of his kimono.
"I cried out in surprise and then alarm when my fingers touched and then were pressed against his...'ochinko' (penis)! It was as if my hand had been forced upon white-hot iron for his manhood was rigidly hard and pulsating with searing heat. Yanking my hand away, I vulgarly swore at him for his sheer audacity and his betrayal of my trust.
"I rose and turn to run into the rain when Ojisan clutched me by my obi and falling to his knees before me, begged, 'Watashi o yurushite kudasai (please forgive me), Kiyomi-chan! I could not help myself...it has been such a long time...and I am so lonely...'
"I looked down at him ready to further vent my feelings but froze when I saw Ojisan with tears flowing from his eyes, his face full of sorrow and misery. Although I had been offended, the sight of an elder...one whom until moments before I had thought of as kindly and generous...groveling before me quickly dissipated whatever anger I may have had held.
"Before I could do anything, Ojisan pleaded, 'Please, Kiyomi-chan, do not leave. You are the only spark of warmth in the dark coldness of my solitude. It is just that I have gone so long without a woman...without a woman's touch...oh, but I was "baka" (stupid, out of my head) to think of you in such a way,' he sobbed woefully. 'How could I think... that you might like me and take pity on an old man...your Ojisan. That you might... oh, but I was foolish to think that a 'kawaii' (pretty) young woman such as you might want to help me...'
"Taken aback by his seeming remorse, I managed to lift the miserable man before me from his knees and sat him on the bench next to me. "Tell me, Ojisan, what you thought I might do to help you."
"Pulling out his handkerchief, Ojisan wiped away his tears and shook his head slowly. "No, Kiyomi-chan, for I would further insult you with my miserable old man's wish. It is better that you leave this place...and me...than to hear what I desire. Go...leave...I am not worthy of your pity, much less your kindness.'"
"Kiyomi-chan, this Ojisan of yours is as we would say in the West, 'playing you.' He is appealing to your good nature while seeking to take advantage of you."
"Hai, Damon-sama. However, I did not discover until later that Ojisan was skilled at crying and looking miserable...something that was totally unlike elderly stoic Japanese men. At the time, I was...how do you say it...ah...'caught off guard' and embarrassed for having caused a feeble old man to be so. I found myself begging him to tell me how I could help him, and offering strong reassurances that no matter what said, I would not be offended.
"I remember Ojisan taking in a deep breath and then letting it out slow and having calmed himself, said, 'Hai, Kiyomi-chan, hai. I will do as you ask.' Then looking down at the ground before him with his shoulders slumped greatly, Ojisan mumble, 'I am old...living alone...for so long...with no children, close relatives, or for that matter friends. However, my loneliness has been made bitter due to not having a woman for such a long time. Yes, yes...I know I could avail myself of a 'woman of the night'...but yariman (sluts) have never appealed to me.'
"'Being with you, Kiyomi-chan, has been a blessing. You are so kawaii that you brighten my day...and made life more bearable. I have been so happy and proud to be seen in your company. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I felt that we were close... although now, I see I was greatly mistaken. I sadly believed that you might have... 'feelings' for me...in an intimate way...as between a man and a woman.
"'When my hand slipped from your thigh to lap, it was a...mistake...and yet, I must admit that I felt a stirring in my loins that I had not felt in such a long time. When you pushed my hand away, I...forgive me...grabbed your hand that was so close to my groin...and shoved it into my kimono...without thinking. It was wrong of me...forgive me...but, I would be lying if I didn't say that I had longed for a woman's touch...for your intimate touch.'
"I must have involuntarily gasped and flinched because Ojisan shrank from me as if expecting me to begin cursing him. Instead, after a deep breath, I asked softly, "What do you mean when you say 'intimate' touch?"
"'Oh Kiyomi-chan, I am so mortified to explain. I am no better than those chikan...those abhorrent men... who molested you on the train. I am worse for those men were faceless...you know me and trusted in me...and I betrayed your faith in me.' Then with tears once again swelling in his eyes, Ojisan muttered, "It is best that you leave... before I disgrace myself further by revealing my indecent yearnings.'
"Ojisan, stop please!" blurted from my surprised mouth. "Tell me what it is that you want?"
"Ojisan looked at me and then lowered his eyes and mumbled softly, "It has been so long since I felt a caring woman's intimate caress of my...' Unable to go on, he subtly pointed at where my hand had been in his kimono. Seeing my eyes widening, he turned from me and hung his head.
"Damon-sama, I know now that I was being skillfully manipulated by Ojisan. However, at the time, I believed that if I left or shunned him after pressing him for an answer, I would bring great humiliation upon Ojisan...and myself. I did not know how to escape this dilemma. I recall myself stuttering, "But...I have never...done such a thing. I would not know how..."
"'You do not have to do anything, Kiyomi-chan,' Ojisan gently but quickly said as a spider would pounce on an ensnared fly. 'All you have to do is to be willing...and let me guide you. That is all you need to do.'
"Hai, Ojisan," was my reply with downcast eyes. His hand once again clasped my wrist and moved my hand across his cloth-covered thigh and under the fold of his kimono. I could not bear to look and turned my head away, pressing my eyes shut and biting on my lower lip. I jerked instinctively when my fingertips brushed against his ochinko.
"'Relax, relax your hand, hai, like that. Now open your hand to touch me...feel me...caress me. Hai, how long I have yearned for this...a lovely young woman... fondling my manhood? Do you feel how I respond to your intimacy by swelling and growing to your touch? Oh, I have not felt like this in years...no, decades.
"'Now, grasp my shaft, Kiyomi-chan...hai, like that. Squeeze harder...hai...and I am responding by becoming harder, longer, and thicker in the ring of your very soft fingers. Begin to now move your gripping hand up and down my shaft...hai like this...this feels so good! Now, move a bit faster, Kiyomi-chan, hai, move faster. Hai! Just like that!'
"Ojisan began to tremble as he pumped my grasping hand rapidly up and down inside his kimono. He shook and his breathing became harsh. Ojisan swiftly shoved his handkerchief under his kimono and his hand held it over my pumping fist. Suddenly his swollen ochinko was thrust violently into the ring of my grasping fingers as Ojisan uttered a loud guttural 'Hai!' as my hand was instantly covered with a hot thick sticky substance.
"He held my hand against his throbbing shaft until he spread open his kimono to wipe the seed of his loins from himself and then my hand. I was crying so much that I was vaguely aware that Ojisan was standing and straightening his kimono. I then heard him utter, 'Tsumaranai mono desu ga.' When I finally had the nerve to open my eyes, I saw that the rain had stopped and Ojisan casually sauntering away. Next to me on the bench was a tastefully decorative noshibukuro that he had left behind.
"I was tempted to flee and leave Ojisan's envelope behind. Yet, I noticed that the envelope was a 'mizuhiki' with a traditional Japanese special cord and knot used to bind money envelopes and bring good luck. As such, to leave it behind would be foolish and bring bad luck. However, after opening it, I started to weep for in it were two crisp ten-thousand-yen bills. I then knew that I had been tricked into engaging in 'enjo-kōsai' - compensation dating. I had sold my time and now sexual favor for monetary gifts."
Kiyomi clutched me to her as she sobbed into my shoulder. I stroked her long ebony hair and held her sensuous Asian body as I whispered, "Enough, Kiyomi-chan, say no more. Let me make love to you so that the fire of our lovemaking can burn away all of the bitterness of Ojisan."
"Oh, Damon-sama, how I wish I could. But I have to tell you about my last 'enjo-kōsai' episode with the man whom I called Ojisan. For like my disclosure of my violation at the hands of the chikan, I must lance this boil and squeeze out the festering puss for me to be clean and heal. Please indulge me, my sensei, and let me tell you of the final lesson of my troubled young adulthood.
"I sought to put Ojisan behind me for I resolved never to see him again," related Kiyomi as she nestled her head against my chest. "I avoided the downtown shopping area and places that we had frequented. I believed he had given up on me when one day my mother informed me that I had received a small parcel. Taking it to the privacy of my room, I opened it to find a neat note on top of a folded piece of cloth. My heart sank with the cloth's odor reached my noise for I knew it to be Ojisan's handkerchief stained with his vile seed.
"The note read, 'Kiyomi-chan, meet me one last time at our last rendezvous. If you do not, my photographer friend who was hidden with his telephoto-lensed camera will send your parents a picture of you with your hand under my kimono fold.' He gave a future date and time before finishing with, 'Wear your yukata (summer kimono) but with nothing underneath.'
"How uneasy I was for being in public and improperly attired on the appointed day. Fortunately, my obi and dark patterned yukata material disguised my lack of undergarments. When I reached the shed, I was surprised to find it open and ultimately learned that it belonged to Ojisan. I was quickly pulled into the shed and pressed against the closed door.
"Gone was the frail and meek elder whom I thought I knew and in his place was a virile and strong man consumed in lust. Slobbering kisses were mashed against my lips, throat, and chest as Ojisan wrenched open the neckline of my thin kimono exposing my large bosom. My unrestrained breasts swayed freely and were grabbed and roughly fondled before he rubbed his ugly face between them. My large nipples were tweaked, tugged, and sucked hard until I whimpered pitifully.
"His claw-like hand slipped under the fold under my kimono, and I cried out painfully as my naked womanhood was cupped and squeezed viciously. 'Oh, how I want to ravish you, Kiyomi-chan - to have my way with you,' Ojisan hotly muttered in my ear, 'But I won't. For to do so would enable you to charge me with rape and I am too old to go to prison for the ecstasy of taking your virginity.'
"Spinning me roughly around, Ojisan pushed me between my shoulder blades until the side of my face was flat against the wooden shed door. Then yanking up the back of my yukata and tucking it into my obi, he pulled my bare 'denbu' (buttocks) back and uttered aloud, 'There is, however, a method used by us practitioners of enkō with unprotected girls such as you. It is called 'sumata' (bare crotch) or was the gaijin so crudely refer to it as 'pussy-job'. Without putting my ochinko in your body, I can have my way with you without planting my seed in your sensuous fertile body.'
"With that Ojisan slid his manly organ between the crease of my denbu and into my womanly folds. Then closing my legs to tightly hold him, he proceeded to repeated and rapidly thrust back and forth into my 'ware-me' (pussy slit). Ojisan's fingers slipped over my thigh to cruelly stroke and inappropriately touch my sensitive fleshy pearl, causing me to squirm and whimper pitifully. I struggled desperately but for an elderly man, Ojisan was exceeding strong and well-versed in the way of 'sumata.'
"'Ha, how those faceless chikan would die of envy,' Ojisan crowed, 'if the saw how I have outdone them. An old man has managed to openly possess and enjoy your bodily delights. What I am doing to you excites you, does it not? Your breaths are ragged and hot...your nipples are long and fat... your sex flows freely with your slippery juices...and your rounded buttocks press back to meet my every thrust.'
"Iya, iya, iya! (No, no, no!)" I cried in desperate denial. And yet, I knew that this was a futile and false protest. What had happened to me with the chikan on the train was happening again. My will to resist faded as my body was stimulated - I responded to being sexually molested."
"Gripping my hips tightly, Ojisan sought to disprove my claim while beating down my feeble denial. His strokes viciously plowed my ware-me and soon lewd wet sloshing sounds could be heard over our combined moans and groans. My knees were weakening and Ojisan started to tremble as he had before when I had my fingers wrapped around his manhood.
"'Kiyomi-chan, despite your denials,' Ojisan sneered, 'I know...and you know...that you are a natural 'yariman' (slut)...and definitely well worth the money.' With that Ojisan slammed me against the door with a powerful push of his groin. I thought he would breach my maidenhead but he slipped out before he could, and released his seed, drenching my much-abused sex.
"Disheveled and sobbing uncontrollably, I twisted and sank to the floor before him when released. Grasping my hair, he lifted my face and looking at me uttered, 'You are so mouthwatering kawaii...so deliciously naïve...and so delectably gullible. I do not have a friend with a telephoto-lensed camera...it was just a lie...one of many believe by you. I wish I could continue our enkō relationship, but I have already begun to cultivate your replacement...a girl who is far more willing and far less expensive than you.'
"'Please accept this parting gift," he said as pulled out and then callously wedge then 'mizuhiki' in my ware-me that was shamelessly exposed by my splay legs.
"'And now, for your parting present to me.' With than said, Ojisan pressed his slime-coated ochinko against my lips, telling me to open my mouth and suck on him. Oh, Damon-sama, to my utter shame, I did as he instructed."
"So, you weren't totally honest with me when that you had never had a man's cock in this luscious mouth of yours? It is not nice to lie to your sensei."
"Oh, please forgive me, Damon-sama, I could not help myself. I was so humiliated about my past before Ichiro that I...omitted...the disgraceful memories of my young adulthood. It was a confusing and very regrettable chapter of my life. It was not until I met you, my sensei, that I learned the pillowing ways and how to truly please a man."
"As we say in America, 'talk is cheap.' Kiyomi, the gaijin also say that 'action speaks louder than words.' With that, I nudged her face towards my groin "
Kiyomi's breath caught in her throat as my swollen erection rear its flanged head. Gripping it, my mistress mumbled a throaty groan, "Oh, Damon-sama, until I met you and became your student and lover, I never knew that an ochinko could give me such fleshy pleasure." With that Kiyomi's head bobbed up and down as my shaft sank easily between her parted lips.
"Yes, Kiyomi-chan, you are a lovely woman and maybe Ojisan was correct when he said that you are a natural-born yariman. I know, however, that you are a woman who needs to be 'fucked' often, to exploded in well-earned climaxes, and to be filled with my seed until you overflow. Am I correct, Kiyomi-chan?"
"Hai, Damon-sama! Hai!"
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