Cherry Blossoms Ch. 02

The next few days were filled with plenty of sucking and fucking. I loved the taste of Kameko's nipples, and her pussy was even more delicious. She couldn't get enough of my dick and went down on me every time we were alone together. Don't worry, I made the most of being in Japan and we explored more than each other's bodies. Kameko and I travelled all around Tokyo, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. It was a wonderful time and I felt like a man reborn.

In the quiet moments, curled up in her minimalist apartment, we made love constantly, until finally exhausted, we lay side by side, talking about the past and future. Her world, filled with cute outfits and J-Pop, was a universe away from my South African upbringing of sports and politics, but something about it just felt right when we were together, and I quickly forgot how lonely and miserable I'd been just a few days earlier.

As the days turned into weeks, a deep sense of appreciation filled my heart. I could not believe how close I'd come to giving up on my adventure. It seemed the universe had a plan for me after all. A plan which, thankfully, included plenty of hot sex with a beautiful young girl I was starting to develop real feelings for.

But ss luck would have it, my newly acquired euphoria came crashing down on me one morning as the sky threatened the first winter snows. I completed a freezing cold journey to the language school, only to find Ms. Watanabe in an equally frosty mood. I could that something was wrong.

"Letting go...contract ending...budget cuts..." she said as I entered the staff room.

My stomach lurched. Fired? After just a few weeks? Was it just me, or did the school have a revolving door of foreign teachers? Perhaps it had nothing to do with my recent performance and everything to do with their enrollment numbers. I knew my lessons weren't as well prepared since I started seeing Kameko, but they weren't that bad. It must just have been the economy.

This was a major setback. Tokyo was expensive, and my savings had been severely depleted by my desire to impress Kameko with lots of shopping excursions and dinners at fancy restaurants. Terror replaced the warmth of my recent joy. What was I going to do? My relationship was in full blossom, but a lack of income would certainly complicate matters.

I felt dejected as I exited the school and looked up to see that it had indeed started to snow.

"Sensei Max?"

Someone was calling me. I turned around and to my surprise Mr. Hashira was making his way towards me, wrapping his coat around himself and burying his hands in his pockets. He had a curious twinkle in his eye. Intrigued, I stopped to listen.

Mr Hashira had overheard Ms. Watanabe letting me go. He said his wife was eager to improve her English and had been considering getting private lessons. If I made a good impression, he hinted, the job could be mine.

I felt an odd mixture of curiosity and relief. Why would Mr. Hashira, a man who had seemed utterly disinterested in my lessons want me to teach his wife English?

"I would be honoured to meet your wife," I said.

I pushed the puzzlement from my mind, and we parted with a bow.

I made the trip to the Hashira's the following day, wondering what lay in store for me. The area the Hashiras lived in was pretty fancy. Bonsai trees in pot plants guarded the entrances to tall well maintained buildings and the overall impression was one of dignified wealth.

Making my way up the stairs of a small newly built building down a quiet side street, I took a deep breath and cracked my knuckles in nervous anticipation. This might be my best shot at getting a job and staying in Tokyo with my girlfriend Kameko. A vision of her perfect ass, bent over in the shower, and the sound of her high pitched voice, begging me to keep fucking her, flashed across my mind as I knocked on the Hashiras front door.

A minute later I was greeted by an attractive woman striking a graceful pose in the doorway. The woman, who must have been in her mid to late thirties, smiled at me and welcomed me inside.

"Hello," I stammered, managing a nervous smile. "Is Mr. Hashira home?"

"Ah, Max-sensei!" the woman exclaimed, her voice warm and welcoming in contrast to her cool understated beauty. "Mr. Hashira is still at work, but I've been expecting you. Please, come in."

Bending down, she gracefully removed her own shoes, her dress riding up and giving me the perfect view of the top of her legs and the undersides of her panty clad ass cheeks. I followed suit, removing my boots and placing them beside her delicate silk slippers.

"Welcome to our humble home," said Mrs Hashira.

The apartment, like the area it was located in, oozed quiet wealth and luxury. A modest volume of expensive looking furniture complemented large windows filled with natural light and the high ceilings and wooden floors made the space feel stylish and comforting.

"Would you like a cup of tea" she asked, indicating I take a seat on the sofa.

"Thank you," I replied. "That would be lovely."

The sound of the kettle boiling soothed my nerves and a few moments later, the trophy wife returned with a steaming cup of fragrant tea cradled in her delicate porcelain white hands.

"Here you go."

"Arigatou."

I was about to take a sip but realised the tea would still be too hot and then almost dropped the cup when Mrs Hashira perched her glorious ass right beside me on the couch. Japanese people were usually more reserved towards strangers, but Mr Hashira's lonely housewife seemed quite comfortable sharing a sofa with a stranger. I took the chance to admire her delicate features.

Mrs H's beauty was undeniable, but beneath the placidity of her gaze, a sharpness lurked. It was as if she were taking my measure, every detail of my appearance catalogued with an unflinching scrutiny which was mildly disconcerting. She was looking me over just as thoroughly and I felt a warm tingling sensation as she completed her inspection.

The age difference between her and Mr. Hashira was substantial. She could have been the old man's daughter. She was a beautiful woman in her reproductive prime, full bodied but slender, immaculate dressed in a chic designer outfit that made her look exceedingly rich and horny.

Mrs. Hashira's gaze remained fixed on me, the sharpness intensified by a flicker of something... was it amusement or perhaps desire? I couldn't tell. Suddenly, she surprised me with a request.

"Would you mind standing up for a moment?" she asked.

I was surprised but complied, and she immediately began exploring my body with her hands, rubbing my back and shoulders, running her fingers over my abdomen and down each of my arms. My initial surprise morphed into guilty pleasure and then definite arousal as her touch lingered on my rugby trained biceps.

"What are you doing?"

She chuckled, a rich, husky sound that made my balls tingle. "Apologies," she said, gesturing for me to sit back down. "But my husband may have neglected to mention the details."

I nodded without fully comprehending.

"You see, Max," she began, "I already speak English well."

I felt my penis beginning to stiffen as she continued.

"Mr. Hashira, bless him, is absolutely hopeless when it comes to...gardening." She emphasised the word in such as to convey a deeper meaning. "He's never been able to get anything to grow," she explained, patting her stomach and looking at me meaningfully. The woman's eyes sparkled mischievously. "He mentioned your lessons, and..." she trailed off.

"And?"

"And I had a better idea."

Mrs Hashira went on to make a rather shocking proposal involving several more euphemistic references to helping her with the 'gardening'. Any doubts about what she was really talking about quickly dissolved when she expressed her satisfaction with my obvious erection, now tenting proudly in my hopelessly inadequate trousers.

I have never been more aroused in my life than in that moment. A beautiful married woman was admiring the size of my cock and had just asked me to impregnate her. To sweeten the deal, Mrs Hashira promised me a generous remuneration package, a total figure in yen that would be hard to turn down under any circumstances, let alone such an intriguing one.

"And if you're interested," she continued, her eyes twinkling, "we have a perfectly lovely guest bedroom that's currently unoccupied. You could stay here until the project is completed. Hot meals included. Free of charge."

My mind was racing. Despite my initial reservations about becoming entangled in the Hashiras desire to have children, her offer was strangely tempting. Free accommodation, combined with a large income and the allure of Mrs. Hashira herself, was a potent concoction that placed my better judgement at the mercy of my instinct to inseminate the gorgeous woman before me.

"How many seeds you'd like me to plant in your garden?" I asked, meeting her sultry gaze.

Mrs Hashira said she wanted me to plant as many seeds inside her as possible.

The next day I moved in with the Hashiras and things got awkward straight away. Mr Hashira insisted on leaving me and his wife alone together while we ate dinner (he watched television in the living room) and then went to bed early without saying a word. However, the meal we shared together was delicious and Mrs Hashira was attentive to my every need.

"You need good nutrition," she explained, as though it were all part of our arrangement, although a part of me wondered if her pent up mothering instincts were already coming out. I asked if Mr Hashira was really okay with everything, and she quickly dismissed my concerns.

"Don't worry about him," she said.

"It just seems kind of weird," I explained.

"I understand. Perhaps this wasn't the most conventional solution, but..."

"But you were lonely."

A sad smile graced her lips. "Perhaps," she admitted.

In that moment, a strange sense of empathy bloomed between us. Neither of us worked during the day and we were both adrift in this vast city, seeking connection in unexpected places, but I had Kameko now, and I didn't want to ruin my blossoming relationship. But on the other hand, I really needed the money, and I genuinely found Mrs Hashira powerfully attractive.

"I appreciate the job offer," I said. "I think you are lovely, and you'll make a great mother. I am just not sure I am totally comfortable with this situation."

I didn't know why I was backtracking now. Maybe I felt intimidated by Mrs Hashira or maybe I felt guilty about Kameko. It was hard to say. But although I was expressing uncertainty, physically, my desire to impregnate Mrs Hashira was only growing stronger. Mrs Hashira was the picture of domestic bliss, effortlessly gorgeous as she moved about the kitchen, clearing the dishes.

She cleaned the dishes without saying anything, allowing me the chance to admire her perfect body as she bent provocatively over the kitchen sink, sticking out her ass and arching her back slightly more than was necessary. When she did eventually turn to face me again, she explained that it was too late for me to leave without people growing suspicious. When she begged me to consider her neighbours, I said I understood, and so she suggested I stay the night and make a decision in the morning. Despite my lingering doubts, Mrs. Hashira's suggestion held a certain undeniable logic. It would be a bitterly cold journey back to my apartment at such an hour.

"Okay," I said, "I'll stay."

"Thank you. Perhaps in the morning, we can discuss matters further."

The guest bedroom was perfectly comfortable, but the night passed in a blur of restless sleep. I kept wondering if Mrs Hashira would climb into bed with me in the middle of the night to relieve my lonely, aching balls. Whenever I managed to get the image of my host, straddling me, out of my head, the image of Kameko, frowning with suspicion, took over, gnawing at my conscience.

Dawn arrived, painting the sky with streaks of pink and orange, and I got out of bed having slept late. Emerging from my guest room, I found Mrs. Hashira in the kitchen. She looked up, her eyes shining with hopefulness as she encouraged me to eat. Mr Hashira had already left for work, she explained, and she had prepared me a hearty breakfast.

"Eggs, Western style," she beamed, placing a plate of bacon and eggs before me.

I was hungry and didn't hesitate to start eating. For some reason, all my concerns from the night before had faded in the morning light and the sight of Mrs Hashira striding around the kitchen in a loose fitting kimono helped me make up my mind. I would take her up on her provocative offer.

"Mrs. Hashira," I began, "about what I said last night..."

Mrs H. shook her head, strands of her long dark hair whipping playfully across her face.

"Do not worry. Today, we focus on preparing the soil. Grow comfortable together."

I ended up staying with the Hashiras for a month, planting seeds in Mrs Hashira's 'garden' every time her husband went to work. During the first few days, Mrs Hashira walked around the house naked. She invited me to shower with her and massage her and this really turned me on, but she wouldn't let me have sex with her until my balls were aching. Then, once she had me completely wrapped around her finger and desperate to inseminate her, the fucking began in earnest.

I remember the first time we made love as clearly as if it was yesterday. Mr Hashira had just left for work, and his stunning young wife immediately removed all of her clothes were she stood in the living room. I watched her, awestruck by her naked form. Even though we had soaped each other, and I had touched her breasts and rubbed her pussy, I knew that this was the moment we were finally going to do the deed and I was captivated by her beauty all over again.

"It is time for planting," she said.

I quickly removed all my clothes and strode across the living room towards Mrs Hashira. I could feel the soft carpet under my feet and marvelled at the pleasurable feeling of being naked in the presence of this woman. It was snowing outside, but the central heating made the room feel hot and stuffy as though being naked were perfectly natural. Right.

When I reached my hostess our arms slipped around each other, and our lips met in a sensual and loving kiss. I loved the feeling of her breasts gently pressed against my chest and my cock rubbing against her stomach. Mrs Hashira took her time, exploring my mouth and sucking my tongue until my erection, poking harder and harder against her, demanded attention.

Slowly sinking to her knees, Mrs Hashira gradually took my swollen manhood into her tiny mouth. She was very business-like, as though she were taking no pleasure in the activity although I had no doubt she was enjoying herself because she closed her eyes and sucked my penis for several minutes longer than was necessary. I really wanted come in her mouth, but I knew by then that my hostess was an expert tease, determined to preserve all my sexual energy for inseminating her.

Satisfied that my penis was sufficiently erect and coated with saliva she stroked the full length of my cock for an additional minute before lying down on the living room carpet and spreading her legs without saying a word. I took the hint and kneeled down before Mrs Hashira, admiring her beauty as I lowered myself over her supple breasts until my penis was resting against her wet inviting entrance.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "Please impregnate me."

I could see how young she still was then, her facing glowing with reproductive readiness, and I could see from her soft smile and the longing in her eyes, how pleased she was at the prospect of finally having children. I could imagine that living with Mr Hashira was a comfortable albeit lonely existence and that a motherly person like Mrs Hashira, who had spent the past week bathing me and preparing meals, would relish having a child of her own.

Without further hesitation I inserted myself inside Mrs Hashira and she gasped as I forced my full length into her tight but welcoming depths. My penis was clearly a lot bigger than anything she was used to, and I wasn't even sure she and Mr Hashira still had sex often. Her eyes went wide, and she held her breath and clung onto my arms as I filled her to the brim.

I was very gentle as I slowly worked my dick in and out of her, which took a lot of self-control after several days of titillation. To my relief, Mrs Hashira told me there was no need to go so slowly and that I should just enjoy myself. I took her words to heart and began increasing the pace of my strokes. I could feel my girth stretching her tight unused pussy out and soon enough soft moans escaped from her lips each time my cockhead reached the limits of her tiny vagina.

I continued pumping away, gaining momentum as her juices slickened my path. Mrs Hashira was squealing with delight and continued to encourage me with repeated shouts of "Hai!" the harder and faster I pounded her. I tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away, suddenly shy about the indecency of our act. I don't know why but this made me feel angry as I plunged my cock deeper and deeper inside her and soon enough she was cumming, loudly.

Eventually, the dam walls burst, and I released a veritable tsunami of semen into the deepest depths of her desperate vagina. Mrs Hashira had already cum several times but when I came inside her she wrapped her legs around me and cried out in pleasure, orgasming powerfully in the knowledge that she finally had the seed she craved nestled deep inside her.

I will never forget the way she looked the first time I came inside her, lying there on the floor with an expression of total contentment on her face. Considering my own emotions, it was obvious that I felt more than just desire for her. I was falling in love, and I wanted to make her pregnant, not just because she was paying me, but because it conformed with my deepest desires.

After the patient build up to our first love making session, I thought we would be done for the day, but Mrs Hashira quickly got back to her knees and took me in her mouth, cleaning all the juices from my cock and bringing my erection fully back to life within a few short minutes. She bent over the sofa then, and I took her from behind, slamming my cock into her with furious, resentful strokes until I shot another hefty load of thick jizz into her upmarket snatch.

I was fucking Mrs Hashira hard. But she deserved it and loved it. She had teased me for days. It was the way she fed me, almost like a baby, and the way she walked around in the nude all the time, her flawless, elegant body constantly on display while her dignified face remained placid and unreadable. Once I could finally have my way with her, I was merciless, and after depositing that second load inside her, I demanded she clean me off again so I could fuck her perfect silky vagina for a third time in as many hours.

Once she had taken my dick as far as she could down her throat and my erection returned, we went to the bedroom so I could take her on her marriage bed. Mrs Hashira did not argue with the suggestion. She simply lay down and hung her knees over my shoulders so I could penetrate her pussy as deeply as possible. My previous loads had lubricated her pussy so much that it felt like I was wearing a condom and I held nothing back as I fucked my collective ejaculations deeper inside her. Having such a big cock forcing multiple loads of sperm against her neglected womb was clearing becoming overwhelming for Mrs Hashira and within a few minutes she was crying tears of joy because she was cumming so hard.

As I pounded away at Mrs Hashira's needy depths, I looked over to the bedside table. There on the stand was a photograph of Mr and Mrs H. on their wedding day, holding hands. Mr Hashira had his same usual bland expression while his wife was radiant and beautiful as ever. What she had lost in a youthfulness, she made up for in motherly attractiveness and I admired both the innocent young woman in the photograph and the horny bitch in heat laying beneath me. Her beauty was otherworldly and watching her breasts bounce up and down as tears ran down her just made my dick harder and harder. She finally looked me in the eyes, and they sparkled with appreciation. I slowed down then and thrust myself into her with nothing but love until we came together for the very first time.