Anson and Jorge in Japan - a Sequel

Their time in Japan was nearing an end. It was the last afternoon in Kyoto—with attendance at a ritualistic sumptuous banquet arranged by the hotel concierge later that night. They had showered and drinks had been poured as they prepared to enjoy their now-automatic five o'clock "exercise." Anson looked over at Jorge. He was falling big time for this guy. "Jorge, I want to talk. I am sure you remember that terrific night of entertainment we had in Tokyo."

"Do you mean the one at the parlor—or the one we have every day?"

"The entertainment got me to thinking about human sexuality. The play was all about combat, dominance, violence, owning a vanquished opponent. It turned us on of course. But, that is not where I am with you. I've had a lifetime of calling the shots, of dominating my partner, or taking. I feel really different about you. You are the most sensuous person—man or woman—that I have ever met. You are certainly masculine—just look at your physique, the timbre of your voice, your mannerisms, the size of your cock. Yet you are tender, caring, and the sexiest human I've ever met. That entertainment has had me thinking about how we—no I—act in bed. I call the shots. And you react and accept with more love than I have ever experienced. I don't want to be only the powerful samurai with the big sword, plunging it into your accepting body. Let me get to the bottom line: I think it's time for you to fuck me."

Jorge swung around on the sofa and smiled. "Are you sure? I'm okay with what we have."

"You are such an affectionate and compassionate person that I can't believe you won't make a wonderful lover. I do think it's time that we both explored our inner world as we continue to explore the strange worlds around us. You won't own me until you're inside me. And I won't know you until I feel you inside me. I want you to be part of me. Let's do this....now."

Anson got up from the sofa, removed his towel, and stretched out on the bed. "You know where the lube is. Let's see what kind of lover I've teamed up with. Show me what Japan has taught you."

Jorge slipped out of his kimono and knelt between Anson's outstretched legs. The virgin pink opening looked impossibly small and tight. "I don't want to hurt you, Anson. Are you sure? I'm not sure it fits."

"I'll know in a few minutes, I guess. But to feel you inside me, I'm ready to try."

So Jorge began the long process of opening his partner for the first time. Jorge had used fingers and toys on Anson, but had never really intended to prepare him for penetration. He wasn't skilled, but he was a sensuous lover. He massaged the cheeks, pulling them slowly apart. An index finger was lubed and poised to enter. To distract, Jorge used his other hand to stroke Anson's sacs. Then he plunged to one knuckle, then a second. There it was: the promised land of the prostate, large in a man of Anson's age. Anson's ass rose to meet the intrusion and Jorge stroked slowly before adding a second. Then he swirled the fingers, lubed again and began to scissor. The sphincter began to relax. So, Jorge bent over, rolled his tongue and began to explore the entrance. The tongue rolled down the taint and Jorge drew both of Anson's swollen ballsacs into his warm, moist mouth. Anson was writhing in passion and bucking up into Jorge regularly. "Let me try three and then I think you might be ready." He did so and spent the next few minutes sawing back and forth into the pleasure chute. Finally, he withdrew the fingers, leaving Anson feeling empty and bereft of his lover. Anson flipped him. "I want to see your face, lover when you give me your ass for the first time."

Jorge placed the head of his rigid cock at the entrance. He pushed. Anson breathed and bore down and Jorge popped in. Anson gasped. "Hurt?"

"Just a little burn. Definitely a stretch. But we're connected in a way that I've never experienced before. I like being taken—especially if it is by you."

Jorge paused, raised himself a little and rolled Anson up. Anson's calves settled on Jorge's powerful shoulders. Jorge turned his face and began to suck on the toes as his hands reached down under Anson's ass and massaged; then he added a bit of pressure, forcing his chest toward Anson's. He was about half way—far enough to give real stimulation to the pleasure nut. Anson was getting into this. He was stretching nicely to accommodate Jorge's tremendous girth. Each time Jorge pushed, Anson met the push. Soon he felt Jorge's swollen balls bouncing on his smooth ass. Jorge established a pattern of long strokes and then short ones, getting faster and harder with each repetition—each scraping a different spot on the prostate. Jorge fell forward, using his strong arms to reach maximum penetration. Anson was definitely his sub. If that's what he wanted, Jorge was going to do his best. Then he bent down and began to tease Anson's erotically charged nibs with his lips and teeth. Anson was bouncing now and Jorge was pumping. Anson was obviously going to be a very active bottom. He reached around and pulled hard on Jorge's cheeks, holding the massive cock inside as it began to spill pre-cum.

Then it was too much. Jorge shouted out his orgasm, grabbed Anson's cock and both balls with his fists and fell forward onto the bed, bringing his chest fully onto Anson's—and his lips to Anson's as well. Then he shot; Anson tensed his ass muscles, released his spunk into Jorge's waiting fists and clamped down on Jorge. Jorge came again and again. He was totally drained—but loving every second of holding Anson tight in his arms and hands. He felt possessive—in a way he had never felt when they spooned or Anson took him to the edge. He understood how a top could feel dominant, yet protective. Filling your partner with your essence was a powerful aphrodisiac, adding to the aromatic cum smells that already filled the bed chamber. He was ready to stay like this forever. He had experienced the other side of male sex and he was on a natural high. But, nature does take its course. His dick began to shrink and despite every attempt by Anson to hold him inside, he slipped out. Anson relaxed his legs and surrounded Jorge's waist.

"Man, I really enjoyed that. Almost as much as when you do me. Somehow, now I feel we are really partners."

"I'm so happy my first was with you. I couldn't have imagined a better teacher, lover, partner."

Both guys remained in bed for some time, holding each other tightly, forgetting about the ice melting in their drinks—or their cum soaking the linen, until they realized it was time to dress for the banquet. Reluctantly, they rose, showered and dressed.

The banquet was very nice, but somewhat of an anti-climax after the wonderful afternoon of discovery. The entertainment was beautiful, but ritualistic, sedate and asexual. The food was exotic and delicious. This would be their last meal in Japan.

Japan had made them partners. Anson thought he understood how two men could love each other—not just make love to each other—but love each other. And Jorge began to see a whole new life opening.

Tomorrow would be busy and hectic: trains to Tokyo and Narita and a late night flight to Singapore—the most Puritanical city-state in Asia. New adventures were before them—but as the consultants often say, "Travel experiences change you." And Anson and Jorge were definitely changed, now almost new creations. BD