Chapter 6
"Good evening, Jones-san. My great pleasure to see you again."
"I'm hip, Mister Takitoshi," Billy said, giving out with the Black Power salute and watching the fat Tap looking puzzled. Then, he shook hands quickly, feeling the sweat in the Orientals palm, his fingers ike octopus tentacles.
Takitoshi was rotund, not much more than five-four and fat as a whiskybarrel. His greasy hair was slicked straight back, and behind his thick plastic glasses beady, fish-like eyes gleamed greedily ahead. He wore a blue silk suit, and on his fingers were plenty of diamond pinky rings. He had, obviously, plenty of bread coming in—he was owner-manager of the Golden Goose, the night club where Sunny worked—and he was not loath to display his riches either.
Nor, for that matter, was the club.
Located in Akasaka, the plush entertainment district, it featured silk canopy, uniformed doorman, much expensive glass-and-glitter decor, four bands, three shows a night (with nude Japanese showgirls aplenty), and perhaps a thousand hostesses to handle the 250-person capacity. Billy was sure that each dude was about 20,000 yen lighter when he left,
what with the minimum hostess charge (how the club operators made their loot; about five bucks an hour per hostess, and some of the big spenders latched on to three or four at a crack). And, with the yen about 300 to the American dollar—that was a lot of cash to leave behind.
"You come early, Jones-sen. You want to watch last show, maybe?"
"If it's free," Billy replied, taking a deep puff on his cigar, and looking very executive-like. Though, his brushed velvet suit and ruffled shirt made him look more London mod than Japanese straight, that was for sure.
"You are always our honored guest," the manager said, his voice almost a cat's purr as he personally escorted Billy to a table near the front, and added, as Billy sat down, "I send one of my best girls, keep you company until Sunyo finish work. You come for Sunyo, right?"
Billy almost said, "I come for any chick that comes for me." Instead, he said, "Right on, Takitoshi. Just make sure you don't send a bill with her, though, you dig?"
The manager chuckled, getting the point—though, Billy wasn't joking—and waddled away.
"Good evening, Billy-san," said a soft, feminine voice from behind, as Billy was checking out the girls in the chorus line.
She was a slim Oriental gal of medium height, with, he assumed, fine long legs, though he couldn't tell with the kimono she was wearing, draped all over her, the obi sash drawn tight around her waist But, she looked vaguely familiar, and her sweet slanting eyes, so eager to serve him, had that warn
and mellow look that meant possibly something could always be worked out between them. "You know me?" he said.
As she slid into the chair next to him, she said, "You are friend of Sunyo. I helped you celebrate our birthday just a few weeks ago. You remember Miki, please?"
How could he forget? She'd given him head that time he'd never forget. She had a tongue like most girl's clitoris: all passionate action and imaginative touch.
"Right on, Miki," he said. She looked puzzled, but moved close to him anyway, her hand resting lightly on his thigh. She whispered into his ear, "When show start, you watch, Billy-san, and Miki take good care of you." Then, she laughed softly, and added, "You dig?"
He laughed at her innocent use of his favorite expression, thinking she was hipper than she seemed.
Just before the show started, another Japanese chick brought a bottle of Suntory whisky and ice and glasses, quickly intoning, "Courtesy of the manager, please." Billy poured himself some over ice, but Miki asked for, and got, hers straight up in the glass. She sipped some of it, then set the glass down, while Billy let the smooth Jap Scotch slide slowly down his throat.
He could feel his Number One getting into that good swinging groove, growing slowly but steadily, as Miki's orchid-based perfume wafted into his nostrils. He wondered where Sunny was—he hadn't spotted her yet—and whether she knew about Miki sitting with him. Well, what the hell, Sunny had brought Miki along to his birthday party in the first place, so she'd have no objections to the business at
hand. Depending, of course, on what business— and whose hands.
As he observed the rich costumes of the showgirls and the expensive stage settings, he began to wish there was some way he could get something on Takitoshi, and rip him off for about 30 million yen or so (about 100 grand, and that would be grand indeed). It would set him up for life, in Japan, and would even last for five or ten years in New York. Well, more or less—maybe 100 million yen, just to make sure. There must be some way, with the bread that Takitoshi was pulling in, to get something on the fat Jap and really rake him for a motherfucking ride, really squeeze his ass.
He'd have to give that idea some heavy thinking.
But, for the moment, he was watching, as the girls on stage went into a production number about a whorehouse burning down, with plenty of fire and flames, water and firemen. Pardon, firewomen; everybody on stage was female. It was pretty realistic, most authentic, in the staging and props, and Billy was digging it when. ...
He felt his fly being unzipped.
He glanced around; Miki was nowhere to be seen.
Then, as delicate female hands whipped out his dick, he realized she must have ducked under the table, concealed by the floor-length tablecloth.
"Shee-it!" he said, as he felt something cold against the tip of his cock; it had just been slipped into a glass, and it really wasn't all that cold as the glass touched his sensitive pecker skin, especially now that he could feel some warm liquid encircling his member.
It had to be Mikis glass of Suntory.
All right, then; he'd continue watching the show.
ogling the Oriental chicks on stage, sipping his own Japanese Scotch, and let Miki do her thing with his thing. Right on.
He knocked off the glass of Suntory and poured himself another.
Beneath the table, he could feel his Number One resting comfortably in Miki's glass. Surprisingly enough, the liquid wasn't softening him up; in fact, the contrary, the way she was swishing his pecker in the Scotch was causing it to erect even more.
He slouched a bit in the chair, leaning back, relaxing. Invisible head; he couldn't see her, but he surely could feel her fine, Oriental touch. And, his balls were bouncing, his foreskin was pulling back, as she worked him over with that glass of warm Suntory.
Then, he felt her remove the glass, and place her fingertips on Number One.
As if she was playing a baroque piano concerto, her fingers began to nimbly skip along, squeezing his tip, pulling back the foreskin, massaging his scrotum, playing with his pubic hairs. As she pulled one of the latter a little too hard, he almost sat up straight in surprise; then, relaxing again, sipping more whisky, be began to watch the show again, noticing that some of the girls being rescued from the "burning'' building wore no clothes, while some were in flaming lags which were being pulled off their nubile Oriental bodies by the "firewomen."
He began to snap his fingers to the bouncy music, wore Western than Japanese. The drummer wasn't bad, and he could hear some bop choruses by a solo trumpet that reminded him of some of Dizzy Gillespie's licks.
Better licks below, though.
For Miki had her sweet little tongue going now, and he could feel her licking the tip of his prick, her tongue gently massaging its head, causing his cock to shudder into further erection. She was touching all parts of its head, then moving her tongue along the glans, lapping at the tightened foreskin and going all the way back to the base. When her tongue got that far back, he could feel her probing into his pubic hairs, "pulling'' a few out front, and really slurping along the bottom of his scrotum. His skin was tingling with excitement, and as he sipped his Suntory, still watching the show, he began to get a fine, warm glow flowing right in his bloodstream.
Now, she was sucking him.
Her mouth was on Number One, her lips firmly holding it in her grasp, her tongue tingling against the tip. She had her hands on his scrotum, holding his balls in her palms as she slowly drew his stiffening member inside those moist mouth membranes.
More and more, harder and harder, she sucked, biting him so gently it seemed more like a caress than the touch of her teeth. He could feel himself sliding further and further inside her mouth, almost touching her throat with the tip. His foreskin was pulled back all the way, and he could feel the tension caused by his tremendously stiff penis as her mouth enveloped it and massaged it and stimulated it into an incredible state of sexual expectation.
The lights were growing dimmer and he could barely see the people at the next table as the grand finale of the show was getting under way. The girls had all been saved from burning building, and the mayor of the city was presenting some sort of citations to the "firewomen." Only, the mayor was
also a woman, and there were some fun things she was doing to the girls that held his attention, kept his eyes straight ahead for the moment, while his balls rattled in their tight sac and his prick vibrated like a tuning fork, beneath the table.
He could feel Miki's fantastic mouth really working him over now, and she must have really stop-watched the show, really timed it right down to the second, because as soon as the band hit that final chorus, she had sucked him into such a state that he couldn't help but come, just as if she'd orchestrated and choreographed the whole thing herself.
He almost fell backward out of his chair as his cock exploded inside her wonderfully sucking mouth.
She really had hold of his scrotum, her fingers fucking him too, as his sperm blasted off, one-two-three-four and more, pulsating and pouring down her throat He could feel her gobbling him greedily, and he braced his hands on the edge of the table, holding himself firm, as his sperm kept on gushing out, explosion after explosion, until there was no more to give, and Number One began to retract its landing gear and settle down into softness again.
As he sipped his drink, he could feel her with-drawing him from her mouth. Then, her tongue be-gan to do its thing again; like a cat, she was lick-ing him clean. He felt her lapping away, her tongue such a sensual organ, that he felt a slight twinge, as if he wanted to get a hard-on right away.
The audience was applauding the showgirls as Miki, seemingly without a hair out of place, reap-peared beside him from beneath the table.
As she looked into his eyes, he said, softly, and with properly appreciative feeling, "Arigato, Miki-
san.
Which meant, of course, "Thank you" in Japanese. The lights went on again; the show was over. "You want to meet Sunyo in her dressing room, Billy-san?"
"That's what I came for," he said, finishing his drink. He stood up, helping her up, and, still holding on to her hand, he let her lead him backstage until they were outside Sunny's dressing room.
Miki knocked.
Sunny said something in Japanese, and Miki replied in the same language. Tlien, she pushed the door open, and she and Billy entered.
It was a small room, with a closet and lighted dressing table and mirror, but just a few chairs and one low Japanese table. Sunny was getting out of her Japanese costume, just getting the kimono off, as she said, "Billy-san, you came early tonight, I had many customers to sit with. Miki help you pass the time all right?"
Billy couldn't help grinning, almost a leer, as he replied, "She sure did, and I thank you both. It was just like I had a second birthday this year, Sunny. In other words baby, I dug it all the way."
Miki gave a waist-length bow to him.
Sunny, stepping out of her kimono, walked over to him and bowed low also. Only, when she did it, she stayed down on her knees, and unzipped his fly, just as Miki had done a little while ago.
"Utsukushii," Billy said, telling her it was really beautiful, the way she took care of business—and himself.
Miki came over and took off his coat, hanging it up in the closet. Billy reminded her that she had! forgotten to take off his turtleneck, so she came back and, as Sunny was rolling out Number One
from the open fly, Miki took hold of his shirt and pulled it over his head, making sure she gave him some fine and fancy finger-rubbing on the way, her fingers kneading his flesh like fresh dough ready to be baked into bread.
Now Billy's bare brown skin was exposed from the waist up. As he felt Sunny's tongue touching his prick, he turned toward Miki and said, "Since Sunny and me don't have nothing to show from the waist up, how about you doing that number, too?"
"So sorry, I no understand."
He translated his Harlem slang into more appropriate English for the girl. Her eyes smiled as she indicated she understood. Then she slowly, moving exquisitely, removed her kimono, revealing her slim, sensual nudity to Billy's gleaming eyes.
"Come over here," he said, and she moved over to one side, as he glanced down and saw Sunny holding his haunches, her fingers gripping his tough ass firmly, as she began to work his Number One into her mouth.
He put one hand over Miki's right breast.
She tensed slightly, then began to relax, her skin feeling so soft and innocent against his hand. He tweaked her nipple with his forefinger, very gently; be could feel that her nipple was pretty well erect as he pretty well expected, since she'd just finished giving him some very fine head not more than minutes ago.
He began to run his fingers along her breast, moving from tip to base, rubbing also into the narrow cleft between her breasts. Her eyes shifted back and forth, as if following his hand movements. She started to tremble slightly, and a few hairs fell out of place into her face, across her forehead. She sniffed
a few times, as if she could smell the sperm rising in his prick, as he continued to move his hand up and down her nice, though smaller than he liked, breast
He looked down at Sunny, though he really didn't need to, since he could hear her breathing increasing in volume and tempo, could feel her mouth slowly sucking his cock inside and her membranes chomping down. He knew that Sunny's clit must really be shivering by now, and was sure that her juices would be starting to flow about this time. Glancing at Miki's soft center, he noticed her clit was trembling, erect as a stiff finger. He could also see the fine lines of her pussy trembling slightly, too, and a few drops of juice broke loose and dropped on the floor.
He placed his other hand on Miki's left breast.
Either his hands were reading wrong, or her left one seemed a few millimeters larger than her right one. At any rate, it was an unusual feeling, which he counteracted by squeezing her boob a little harder, and pressing against her base with his thumb.
She put her hands on his head, and began to play with his Negro hair, twirling the thick, tough curls among her fingers. Her expression was almost abstract, as if, like most Orientals, she was afraid to show her true feelings on her face. Of course, the fact that Sunny was pretty much Billy's chick, and Sunny being just inches away, might have had something to do with that
He could hear Miki sighing now, too, though much differently than Sunny. From his own girl, he could hear more sucking than sighing, could feel Sunny's mouth really working out on his Number One
His balls were shaking now, and he could feel his member getting stiffer by the second.
"Are you going to make fuckee-fuckee with Sun-yo?" Miki asked him, looking him right in the eye, her expression that of seemingly calculated innocence.
"Not if I can make fuckee-fuckee with you first," he replied, not even thinking of what he was saying. But, Sunny heard.
Abruptly, she glanced up from her business, and her eyes met his. Yet, there was no jealousy or hostility in them; for, after all, she and Miki were friends, she had brought her around to Billy in the first place. Sunny's eyes seemed to say: "If you like to make fuckee-fuckee with Miki first, that all right, because she is my friend and your guest."
He grinned, showing his teeth, and licked his lips in such a way that his tongue licked at the edges of his mustache. That was a private joke between Sunny and himself; it meant that he was really ready for some unusual, exotic action, and he was sure that Sunny wouldn't miss the meaning this particular time.
Miki, too caught the subtle nuances of this unspoken conversation. She moved her hands so that a couple of her fingers were fumbling at Billy's sideburns, then massaging the edges of his mustache. She caught a few quick licks from his tongue, and giggled in response.
Billy made another mental note—probably for the ten-thousandth time—never to leave Japan except as a cremated carcass, and gave Miki a tender bite on her finger.
Sunny, apparently catching that movement, at the same time gave him a tender bite right at the
base of Number One. Not a strong bite, but there was enough in her effort to cause him to almost try to step back, thus risking getting Number One accidentally separated from Number One Black Son.
Still, no strain and no pain. Just a cool, subtle little joke on Sunny's part. He had to laugh; but, he still reached down one long, lanky arm and smacked Sunny just a trifle on the ass, to let her know to take it pretty goddamn easy with that particular piece of equipment she was handling.
Well, that equipment was ready for action now.
He could feel its erect stiffness extending along his entire body, and those fine vibrations of good loving were flowing right through him, as always. He said something to Sunny, and she backed off, opening her mouth and letting him loose. She stood up, looking down at his crotch and admiring her handiwork; or, to be more specific, her mouthwork.
Billy looked at Sunny, then at Miki. He let go of the latter's tits, then did some more looking around. An idea was forming, a sort of sexual sandwich was burning its imagery into his brain.
"Hey," he said, excitedly. "Let's you and me make a sandwich, you dig? I'll be the meat ..." He pointed from one to the other. " . . and you can be the bread."
They looked puzzled, until he explained in specific detail exactly what he wanted.
They looked slightly surprised, if not unbelieving, after he'd explained. But, as he assured them, it was not only possible to do it that way, he'd already done just that on several previous occasions.
So, he walked over to the corner, where the Japanese low table was positioned, and sat down in
the middle, leaving his long legs over the sides. He motioned for Miki to join him, and she came over; he positioned her so that her back was to his front, and she straddled the table as best she could, her haunches right over his prick. Then, Sunny came around from the rear, sitting also on the table, her breasts pushing against his back. It was almost a classic "three men on a horse" position; but, with a decided difference.
He told Miki what to do first.
She spread her well-rounded ass, and took hold of Number One and began to draw it, dog-style, against the lips of her slit. She rubbed it against her clit first, feeling the shock waves of sexual arousal beginning, then pressed it hard against her cunt lips, forcing them open. Slowly, she moved herself and his prick so that there would be no trouble about him gaining entrance, and he felt her both pushing and pulling him along, until he could feel that he was starting to penetrate her defenses, and get his member inside.
She moved her body toward him, manipulating both of them as best she could, and he could feel the excitement mounting, especially since Sunny was holding on to him from behind, her boobs and their nice taut nipples rubbing against his back, one of his more enjoyable erogenous zones.
Miki's cunt began to open wider, and Billy could feel good old Number One doing its good old number, gaining entrance, getting inside, inch by inch. Her cunt was pretty nice, tight where it should be, yet loose enough to let him make his way from this difficult position, so far, with neither pain nor Lain.
He could also feel Sunny's clit rubbing right
against his ass, just below his waist. So, he removed one hand from Miki, and reached around to feel for Sunny's clit. He squeezed it several times between thumb and forefinger, then sought out her slit, and began to shove his middle finger inside her cunt. She was both warm and wet, and he could feel her body responding at once as he began to fingerfuck her, her arms around his neck and her teeth nibbling at his ears.
Sunny's body scrunched closer, her smooth skin rubbing nicely against his. Her breasts were boring into his back, and he could feel her legs rubbing against his, her toes tickling at his ankles. He thrust his finger deeper inside her cunt, feeling the membranes giving way, getting wetter the further he penetrated.
Now, as far as Miki was concerned, she had got him all the way in, and she was beginning to move her entire body in such a way that he could hear the table creak in protest. He hoped it would hold out, with the combined weight of all three of them; but then, he thought, the Japanese built their stuff to last, they haven't got into that planned obsolescence number yet.
His cock felt as twisted as a pretzel from this position, yet he was not too uncomfortable. The Japanese were used to all sorts of different positions, he knew, and that was one of many reasons he was really enjoying his Tokyo stay. He moved his body, jabbing Miki a bit more, moving himself around a bit inside her so that all her membranes were feeling Number One getting ready to do its thing.
Both girls were starting to perspire, and he was beginning to sweat a bit himself. He felt Sunny bit-
ing the nape of his neck, so he began to lick at Miki's ears, finding that his tongue and cock combined were doing one hell of a fine job of stimulating her juices, for he could feel her wetness increasing to swimming pool proportions as her juices began to pour out of her cunt and dampen both his crotch and the table.
As best as he could, he moved forward some more, feeling his cock really catching hold inside her cunt. He played with her boobs, his fingers nimbly dancing all over her chest, rubbing and tapping and squeezing her taut nipples until she was crying something in Japanese he couldn't understand. He figured it probably meant something like, "Fuck me quick, Billy-sen, while I am coming just right."
Yes, she was.
She was really shaking, her haunches riding his crotch like a sumo wrestler, and his balls were really feeling confined and crushed from that position. He moved his finger further into Sunny's snatch, and he could feel her tightening her grip around him, her body heaving forward in orgasmic spasms. She was coming first, it seemed; but, only by seconds, for now Miki was moving and shifting, her cunt releasing its great gushers of joy juice as his Number One, not being able to hold it any longer, let loose sperm right before the middle of Miki's ecstatic orgasm.
Not the best of timing, but better than what could have happened. He fired fast, burst after burst, and felt her increasing her tempo to really ride him out fine and full, as Sunny too, behind him, was pumping away, her own juices drenching his finger, his ass and the table. Rocking together, he felt the magnificent feeling
of being eroticized between two fine, fucking bodies as he continued his coming until he'd shot his wad. The girls kept on doing their thing, fucking hard and fine until the last. He was pleased to notice that Sunny's orgasms lasted about a minute longer than Miki's; for, after all, she was his girl, and that's the way it should be.
When it was over and done, Miki politely excused herself, after dressing, explaining that she had better see to her lover now. Billy laughed, wondering who the fuck that could be; he said that he hoped there'd be no jealousy involved. Miki said there wouldn't because she wouldn't tell him, but she'd better hurry up before he came looking for her, which would be a different thing entirely.
As she was opening the door to leave, he jocularly asked, "Hey, baby, who is the lucky dude who swings with you?"
He got a surprise, if not a jolt, when she replied, sweetly, "Takitoshi-san ... for the past two years."