KOI 10: One From Danny's House: Yoshi

One from Danny's House: Yoshiko

Columbia. 1973-1974

The first year of grad school, I lived two hundred miles away from Becky, and saw her only every third weekend or so.

In August, I found a place to sleep in a sleazy basement apartment about four blocks from the University, and two blocks from the house where Danny and Candi were living.

Danny's house near the campus was chopped into rooms costing about $70 a month maximum, and it was populated by students too impoverished to ever trouble one another. The stereo speakers there, for example, were scarcely larger than those on a common television set. If any activity in one of the tiny rooms got too loud, it was customary for the room to become the center of a housewide party. Sex, now, was sort of loose there too, but not without regard for privacy and respect for exclusive relationships. There was no guiding ideology or governing charter, but the people in Danny's house were open, sociable and happy.

Both Yoshiko and her sister usually claimed regular boyfriends, but they also acted as if they had something to prove. I'm not sure what it was they were proving, but both came on strong, and once after a hint from Danny I spent a late fall afternoon with Yoshiko in Randy and Cheryl's bed.

Yoshiko was small, round-limbed and round-bottomed, and alternated giggles with long moments of touching seriousness.

The second time that afternoon she wanted it most from over her rump, her soft arms folding mine over her pretty breasts while I bounded full weight into her straight, wide pussy. My first taste of Asian tuck. My head and shoulders lay well above hers, and Yoshi took each stroke with a soft grunt, growing ever more beastlike until I broke away, paused outside her until she pleaded, then reengaged heavily. I poured just two more strokes through cooled lips before Yoshi's moans grew longer, stranger, and some butterfly fluttered along the bottom of my dick as I passed it in and out, and I could come into the girl again.

Though I couldn't see any difference between Yoshiko and her sister in the intensity (or aim) of their come-ons, I never had occasion to experience Yoshiko's sister.

The only apparent outcome of our afternoon in bed together was the ease with which I took Yoshiko again the following spring.

A group of us were drinking beer in a parklike area out of town, and Yoshiko's glistening bare legs finally became irresistible. She'd been flirting wildly since climbing into my lap on the ride out, and although she'd been flirting wildly with every other male on the outing as well, I figured midway through the third quick sixteen-ouncer that I could be direct with her. I waited until we were both off to one side, and after she grabbed to goose me for the fifth time that day, I popped a question, sotto voce.

"At last one of these guys has caught on!" Yoshiko yelped. And the offhand but loud publicity reminded me that among her several former bedpals in our party was one who had held more than casual claim over Yoshiko in the preceding year.

Serious Alec, however, just ignored Yoshiko's shout.

Yoshiko and I walked away from the laughing group, and soon began playing bump-tag. After about ten minutes Yoshiko found a dry clean hollow, halfway down a wooded ravine, in which to spread her blanket over the deep, cushiony leafmould.

Seated on the blanket, me laying beside her, Yoshiko quickly pulled off her pearl gray tank top, revealing the bronze of her soft, compact torso. Yoshi let me pull off her brieflike, aquamarine shorts. "Leave my sneakers on..." Yoshiko wore no underwear as a rule, and the silklike shorts shimmied down her smooth round legs almost of their own accord, letting me concentrate on the silkiness of the legs themselves. Yoshiko's waist-length hair fell across my view of her crotch as she worked at my jeans.

She pulled them down to the ground where I now kneeled. As if realizing from the trembling of my wood-hard member that further delay would be missing the point, she shook back her hair, and spread her legs stiffly to either side of me. Smiling with closed, invitingly thick lips, she lay back on the blanket, thumb and fingers of one hand parting her peachlike pudenda. I should have tasted her then, but as her flat smile broke over gleaming teeth, I couldn't help but immediately position myself above her, and let my prick be guided into her velvet, teasingly resistant hole.

It was over in a couple of minutes, me filling Yoshiko with a fullness of fluid that only copious amounts of beer can produce.

Squishing cum onto groin and butt and blanket, I continued to poke, still hard, waiting to regain my interest while trying not to fail Yoshiko. Head buried in my chest, the girl had wound her legs around mine and was punishing her backbone on the rough blanket. After due course, her kneading hands tensed along my spine, and with two or three sharp gasps Yoshiko's whole body gave over.

Quick, to be sure.

As Yoshiko wriggled softly beneath me, I shot off a very final, businesslike squirt, surprised that it came in two-and-a- half full doses (ah, Budweiser!). We sighed almost in unison, and Yoshiko giggled as I rolled off her.

Then we both stiffened.

A little above us in the hollow, his face an indescribable combination of pain, intoxication, and quizzical seriousness, stood Alec. Alec was Yoshiko's last regular boyfriend but one. It had been over between them months earlier. Alec just stood above us, scarcely breathing, seeming hardly to know what had brought him there. After an unpleasantly tense minute, I began to pull up my pants. Yoshiko cleared her throat. Suddenly she seemed to relax. She stretched the full length of her four-feet-seven-inches, twisting her plastic body lazily into the loam.

"At last another one of these guys has caught on!" Yoshi yawned.

I gave Yoshiko a little hail-fellow hug and staggered to my feet. Not really sure of what was going on between Yoshi and Alec, I climbed gingerly past the other guy, out of the ravine. He ignored me as I passed him. He was seriously engaged in unbuttoning his pants.

I paused at the top of the ravine, but from the tone of the few murmurs I heard, I determined that things would be all right, and I walked back to the others around the barbecue.