An Englishwoman in Japan Ch. 02

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Yoko begins to exert her influence
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Part 2 of the 6 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 08/09/2013
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I wrote this story for Tiffany. Thanks for all your help, Tiff. I hope you're pleased with the outcome.

Chapter Two

I normally got out of bed with Nick each morning he was at home, even when he was heading off to work at some ridiculously early hour. With him continuing to be so busy, those moments were some of the few opportunities I had to spend some time with him.

But not this week.

This week, I'd been avoiding him as much as I could, still paralyzed with guilt at what I'd done during the last couple of weeks.

How could all this have escalated so quickly?

Not that Nick had noticed my withdrawn reaction. He was too busy working every minute of the day and night. So, like most mornings this week, I waited until I heard the front door close before pulling myself out of bed. I hated acting like this, but until I could get my head together and think more clearly, it was the path of least resistance.

I fixed myself a pot of coffee as I paged through a few back copies of Japanese fashion magazines. Yoko had provided them for me at my request, so that I could see her in her prime Supermodelling days. Each one featured her photograph on the front cover and if anything, despite the newsprint's poor ink quality, she was even more beautiful when she was younger.

The way those dark eyes stared back at me from each front page cover sent a shiver of appreciation through me—she was so charismatic, so vibrant—and yet that indefinable quality of hers shone through, too. The one that told you she could see inside your soul and help you obtain anything you wanted.

Even if that need had been buried deep inside your unconscious mind...

I ducked into the shower as I began to dwell on what had happened over the last couple of weeks. While I hated myself for doing what I had, there was no denying how exciting it had been. My emotions were a confused mess of self-loathing, disgust, and unquestionably thrilling eroticism.

It was as if I'd returned to the wild days I'd continually enjoyed before I'd met Nick. My long, golden hair and curvy body had attracted men ever since I was a teenager and sex became as natural to me as breathing. Life was for living, yes? It was only I'd met Nick that I'd put that wild side behind me.

Yet, as I soaped my body beneath the hot spray of the shower, a very wicked voice whispered, "But you miss it..."

It was true. I did.

The impish voice had been with me since childhood—since I'd first learned to masturbate, when I'd had my first cigarette, my first taste of alcohol, my first joint, my first forbidden fuck with a married man, and when I'd experienced my first woman. And it had recently returned with a vengeance.

The luffah felt good as I glided it along my skin, sending little electric jolts through my body as I passed it over my nipples. I sighed with pleasure as I set it down, switching to my hands to spread the liquid soap across my breasts, my flat stomach, and ... down between my legs.

"No," I murmured aloud, pulling my fingers away.

I really had to find a way out of the all-consuming arousal that was threatening to drown me. Yoko was immersing me in a new world, one in which I was returning to my wild past and indulging my sexual thirst. But my past was my past and things were different now—I was married, after all.

And yet I'd visited the exclusive massage studio three more times since Yoko had originally taken me there. I'd been drunk that first time, drunk and horny, and had been unable to resist Táchira as he took the massage to a different level. But since then I'd known exactly what I was doing.

Yoko had arranged and paid for the further appointments, twice weekly, persuasively telling me that by relieving my sexual tensions in such a discreet way, I'd be better prepared to take care of Nick's needs when he needed attention. It was the Japanese way, she'd convincingly explained.

I'd gone along with the strange logic, telling myself that she knew better than I and that I'd do anything to help Nick's wellbeing. But inside my mind, my little voice was whispering the truth. The real reason I was indulging myself was because of the sexual needs that had building inside me ever since the pressures of Nick's job had gradually made our sex life virtually nonexistent.

That's when everything had begun to escalate...

Táchira had once again shown me what a wonderful lover he was on my second visit, but the third time he wasn't available. Or so I'd been told. A younger masseuse had attended to me and I'd been so shocked I'd almost fled.

Almost...

Instead, I'd allowed him to go through the same ritual as Táchira—making me cum with his fingers before climbing onto the large massage table and fucking my brains out. It had actually been more exciting with him, because I'd known what was about to happen. The next visit it was an older, thickset Japanese masseuse who was waiting for me. He'd had a humongous cock.

But now—well, now—the warning bells were well and truly ringing in the back of my head, telling me that I had a difficult decision to make. Matters were close to getting out of hand and if I kept this morning's appointment at the exclusive studio, it could well be too late to put a stop to all this.

I needed time to think.

Despite Yoko's persuasive words, I wasn't become a better wife to Nick through this—I was avoiding him, for God's sake. And worse, all this sex wasn't satisfying me, far from it. I was craving even more with every illicit fuck. I'd fucked three different Japanese men over the last couple of weeks and number four would be waiting for me at the studio later.

Despite the eager voice whispering in my ear, could I really allow that to happen? Before I'd properly thought through the consequences? No, it would be much safer to stay home today and give myself time to think.

---

I hooked my legs around the masseuse's slim body and dug the soles of my feet into the top of his ass. Oh my God, the way it forced his hard cock even more deeply inside me was sublime.

So much for my resolution!

When it had come down to it, the little voice in my ear had won out and I hadn't been able to resist the thought of checking out the new masseuse waiting for me. I hadn't been disappointed.

His youthful good looks were only outweighed by his arrogance, but I didn't mind that. I'd had plenty of arrogant men in the past and there was something about attitude that had always turned me on. Unlike the others, he didn't massage me for long before stripping out of his white uniform and letting me see his lean body. I almost drooled at the sight.

When he offered his cock to my mouth, I instantly pushed up onto my knees and sucked his youthful prize between my eager lips.

Saliva dripped from my mouth as I pleasured him, and I heard him whispering his encouragement in Japanese as he slowly fucked my mouth. But eventually, just as I had him on the verge of blowing, he guided me back down onto my back and grinned into my eyes as he entered me.

The sensation of his hard cock deep sinking inside my needy body made me gasp out loud and I was so turned on that, even though he hadn't started to fuck me, my hips were already rising and falling on the padded massage bed as I thrust upwards, seeking more of that delicious friction.

He simply held himself in position as I moved on him, smiling condescendingly into my lust-fuelled eyes as I used his cock as my masturbatory tool.

It was almost obscene the way I wantonly humped upwards on him, growling out my need as I sought maximum contact. And all the time he kept staring at me, a soft smile on his young Oriental face as he began to talk to me again, telling me hot, dirty, sexual things that I could readily understand even if they were in a language I couldn't.

I lost myself in my need for release with each word he uttered and each push of my hips. When it came and I screamed out my climax, my body arched like a bow so that only my shoulders and heels remained on the large massage bed.

I hadn't felt this wanton for longer than I could remember.

In truth, Táchira had been the best lover of all the masseuses. That second time we'd been together he'd taken me in every position I knew and a couple I had never even dreamed of. I could remember being on top of him at one point—arms out wide like the wings of a plane as I'd undulated on his beautifully hard cock like a lap dancer—and after I'd cum for the umpteenth time he'd steadily fucked me again, missionary style, for well over an hour.

But as experienced as Táchira had been, there was something about this young masseuse's cocky attitude that was so appealing...

When he began to thrust inside me, I reached up to grab his hair. He took me slowly at first, teasing me, until I began to beg him to fuck me faster. When he obliged, his triumphant eyes made me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. He might look like something out of 'the Karate Kid' but he was making me growl like the bitch in heat I was.

Adjusting his position, he pulled my legs up over his shoulders as he began to fuck me harder. I growled even louder as I felt another climax well up, squeezing my pussy muscles around him.

"God, your cock feels good," I groaned.

His smiling response was to fuck me even harder. His young balls slapped against me, forcing a heavy grunt through his teeth with each thrust. I could feel another orgasm building as he pumped inside of me like a pneumatic drill and when I came again, he didn't even pause, fucking me through the orgasm.

A second climax quickly followed and I cried out my pleasure as he pounded me even harder—but this time the look in his dark narrowed eyes was different. He was nearly there, too. I could tell.

"You're close?" I begged, hysterical.

"Hai," he hissed, his face tightening into a cringe.

"Do it!" I snarled, crossing my ankles behind his head and yanking him into me.

The weight of his body compressed me even more, driving his cock even deeper inside, if such a thing were possible. His young passion was primordial and my blonde hair fanned out on the massage table as he gave me what I wanted, what I needed. When I dug my fingernails into his shoulder blades, his shout started loud and ended louder as he went off inside me like a depth charge.

Thank God I couldn't have children.

I lay back, exhausted, an awful feeling of emptiness inside my sex when his young cock eventually left me. But to my delight he was simply changing position so that he could offer his cock to my mouth again.

I took it greedily, cleaning the head with my tongue before sucking him back into a state of semi-erection. Satisfied, he flipped me onto my stomach as easily as turning a chicken on the barbeque and pushed himself back inside his blonde English prize.

Arousal flared inside me. On all fours, doggie-style, I could imagine myself in my own porn film, my tits bouncing like two pieces of ripe fruit while I pushed my ass upwards to better feel that hard cock begin to ram inside me again. When he grabbed my hair, yanking my head back holding it in mid air, I almost passed out with need.

Oh fuck ... I was going to cum again...

THE WEEKEND

I lay awake in bed, listening to the water running in the en-suite bathroom as Nick took his usual early morning shower. He had returned home even later than usual last night, and complained he was too tired when I'd wanted to make love. I'd thought I'd be able to change his mind the moment he joined me in bed but he'd fallen asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow.

The sex I'd been enjoying in the massage studio had begun to ease the sexual frustrations I'd felt during our first few weeks in Tokyo, especially when combined with my still vibrant enjoyment of Japanese porn. But this was my husband. Shouldn't we be having sex regularly, too?

I wanted to talk it through with Yoko when we met for lunch today—I could always rely on her to straighten out my thinking, especially when I was trying to control my vivid imagination. Since my sessions with the different masseuses, I'd even begun to look at Japanese men in the street, fantasising about how much they wanted to fuck me and what it would be like to give them what they wanted.

Yoko had told me some time ago that the men in her country found blonde European women to be particularly attractive and I knew what most of guys were thinking as they surreptitiously glanced at me. Heck, I'd even started to wear provocative clothes whenever I was travelling or shopping, or leaving an extra button undone on my Ralph Lauren Blue Label sheer shirt, or maybe crossing and uncrossing my stockinged legs when sitting in an outside cafe during a deliberate coffee stop.

And when I returned home, I masturbated long and hard while allowing my imagination to run riot...

It was the same while I was sleeping, even with Nick beside me. All the fantasies I had nurtured during the day would come to the fore and I invariably awoke from my sleepy state with my hand working between my legs.

But not this morning, I thought, dragging my wet fingers away from my sex. Nick might have been too tired last night but he'd be fully awake after his shower. Maybe there would be time this morning? Or even in the shower. How long was it since we'd done that?

The thought was so inspirational that I practically rushed out of bed, giving Nick my most mischievous smile as I joined him in the en-suite bathroom.

"Want some company, baby?"

His eyes would normally have instantly lit up, but instead all I could see was a sense of trepidation in them. Worrying about getting to work on time? A tinge of sadness passed through me—had our marriage really reached that stage?

Okay, I thought, maybe a long fuck under the cascading water followed by another session on the bedroom floor might not be the best idea right now. But that didn't mean we couldn't play for a short while.

"Why don't you let me," I breathed, stepping into the shower with him and taking the gel from his hands.

Before he could protest, I tipped the bottle so that the liquid covered my palms and worked the creamy lather over the smooth skin of his chest.

"Sshhh," I told him as he tried to object, "this won't take long..."

I had intended to take my time, to tease him, but instead I immediately dropped my hand to his flaccid cock. It wouldn't remain dormant for long. He moaned as I began to stroke him and his shaft grew impressively with each jerk of my palm. The soft movement of my fingers quickly turned into masturbatory strokes and when I brought my other hand to his balls, his body twitched.

"See," I teased, pressing my body into his and trapping his semi erect cock against my stomach. "I think we like that..."

I reached around him with both arms and slid my hands down onto his hard buttocks, working the gel into the crevice of his asscheeks. He moaned again and I leaned back so that I could run my tongue around each of his nipples before I began to slither downwards. The water cascaded over me like a waterfall as I dropped to my knees and licked along the length of his hard cock.

That felt so hot...

Maybe I could take a shower with one of the masseuse's next time, I idly wondered? They wouldn't be rushing away, that was for sure.

But neither was my husband—not right now. His hands were on my shoulders as I licked from root to tip, determined that this blow job would be my best ever work. Maybe then he'd want me more?

Taking the head into my mouth, I curled my tongue around his crown. That had always excited him. He widened his stance as I gently sucked and then he grunted when I took his hard balls in my hand again. The water bouncing off our bodies heightened the moment and I coated him with my saliva, letting it drool down his length before working it into his stiffness with both hands.

"Good, baby?" I asked, slurping off his cock.

For some reason I need his confirmation, his approval.

When Nick glanced down at me and nodded, that dreamy look in his eyes confirmed everything I needed to know. He wouldn't remain this busy forever, would he? Then our lives could get back to normal again.

I lifted his cock upwards, holding it there for a few tantalising seconds as I trailed my tongue along the underside of his shaft. When his fingers went to my wet hair, I slid my lips down to his balls. One by one, I sucked each of them into my mouth, loving the way his cock jerked.

He wasn't going to last much longer.

I frantically swallowed down on his entire length again, even more saliva dripping from my mouth as I frantically worked to take him over the edge. I gripped his balls more tightly and took the thick base of his crown between my teeth, growling like a dog with a bone. He sent a volley of curses into the air as he tried to drag my head away, but I wasn't going to be denied my prize.

I momentarily held him there, trapped between my lips, while my eyes flicked upwards into his. This was my husband. I loved him...

My mouth plunged downwards again as he roared out his first release. The sensation was almost overwhelming. I swallowed hard and then jerked my head away, taking the second blast across my right eyelid and the third across the base of my nose. I reached up with my tongue to lick a hanging globule between my lips before taking him in my mouth again, urging out the final blast. I almost creamed between my legs as it coated the insides of my mouth.

Sitting back on my haunches, I began to smile up at him but he was already leaving the shower, telling me he needed to hurry or he'd be late. I sat there, water cascading down on me as I watched through the glass screen as he quickly towelled himself dry and then made his way to the bedroom.

What the fuck?

Closing my eyes, I dropped my hand between my legs and began to finger myself on the wet tiled floor. If Nick was no longer interested in me, there were plenty of men who were. Like that older guy who had smiled at me in the department store yesterday and asked if I would like him to buy it for me when I'd tried on a piece of jewellery. I'd often wondered since then what he would have wanted in return if I'd said yes.

Maybe I'd call into the store again later today, on my way to meet Yoko? Just in case he was still around.

---

Yoko ordered Shungyo cocktails for us after our lunch, explaining that they were made of sake, vodka, green tea liqueur and salted cherry blossom. Given the choice I would probably have chosen something less exotic but, as ever, her choice was perfect. They really were quite delicious.

And potent.

By the time we were on our third—Yoko didn't do anything by halves—a delightful combination of wellbeing and growing arousal had settled over me.

"So..." she softly said, just as the wooziness creeping into my head was starting to take hold.

"So..." I replied with a giggle.

"I can see that you have something on your mind," she perceptively told me. How did she know these things? "I'm told the massage sessions are going well, so it can't be that. Want to talk about it?"

I felt my heart rise in anticipation of where the conversation could be going. If I could talk to anyone about my issues, it was this woman, but even then it wasn't easy. Besides, how could she know about my massage sessions?

"Who told you—"

A wave of her hand cut me off mid sentence and when she responded, she sounded almost disappointed ay my naïveté.

"Oh Tiffany, haven't you learned by now that there are no secrets from Madame Yoko? I know everything I need to know about people who are important to me. For example..."

She paused for what seemed like an eternity, leaving me wondering what was coming next. My heart began to pound as I waited for her to continue.

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