12/98
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
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o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Journey to the East - Part 6 [MF, Mf, asian]
by Richard Rivers (r_rivers@cryogen.com)
(c) 1997

*

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!"
