Tokyo Tease

by Luna Zega

  For Kentaro to actually reach out and touch me was acknowledgement. I glanced up and discovered him looking out the window, watching as the train raced past the platforms of smaller stations.

  Okay, play this cool. I can stand here and act like he doesn’t have his hand on my hip.

  As he watched the passing scenery, he slid his hand from my hip to my waist. I bit my upper lip, trying to maintain the same cool, indifferent expression Kentaro possessed. He causally lifted the edge of my sweater.

  I knew he could feel my heart racing and could tell I held my breath by his small smirk of a smile. I looked away from his face, fearing he’d see the shock in my eyes if he glanced down. My stare bore into his blue suit-covered shoulder.

  His smooth hand feathered across my ribcage. For a split second, I worried about my weight, the extra padding over my ribs, but when his fingers reached the lace band of my bra all thought disappeared. Glancing at the people crammed around me, I could see no one paying attention to us. I leaned against the door to give him more access, trying to maintain a calm exterior as my knees weakened and my panties moistened.

  Kentaro’s palm grazed my ribs. Warmth spread through my body as he cupped my breast and ran his thumb over my bra. My erect nipple strained against the lace. He pinched it, and I had to fight my body’s natural response. I wanted, no needed, to arch my back and thrust my breast deeper into his palm, but I remained still, gave no indication the man in front of me was driving me insane.

  He must have become frustrated by the restrictions of the lace. With his index finger, he hooked the edge of the bra strap and followed it from my shoulder, across the swell of my breast, and stopped when parallel to my nipple. Slowly, he pushed the lace aside, freeing my breast.

  Moaning, groaning, wrapping my legs around him and fucking him on the spot were not viable options. Instead, I continued to stare at his shoulder as the train sped toward Shinjuku.

  Something told me to withhold my touch, to resist my need to rub a hand along his zipper and feel his erection under my palm.

  His thumb circled my taut nipple. He flicked, teased, and pinched, escalating my need with every caress.

  Using the door as support, I closed my eyes and gave into the sensation, but only for a second. Any longer and I’d draw attention to myself by the look of ecstasy on my face. Even if I wanted to step away, I couldn’t. Scores of people crowded us, trapping me against the door. Standing there while Kentaro looked out into the distance and drove me insane was my only choice. I was his captive.

  As the train pulled into the Shinjuku Station, Kentaro righted my bra and slid his hand down my stomach to my waist. The doors opposite us opened. He turned around and departed the train without a backward glance and made his way to the curb where the company car awaited him, which befitted his status as an upper manager.

  On weak knees, I walked the rest of the way to the office by myself. Once there, I greeted my co-workers, threw my bag in my cubicle, and went to the bathroom. I had to deal with the pressure between my legs. My pussy had never been so wet. I stepped into a stall, leaned against the door, and pulled up my skirt. Praying no one else could come into the room, I slid my hand up my thigh and flicked my clit through my soaking panties.

  I ached. I knew I would come too fast, three strokes max. The need to be quick debated with my desire to extend the experience. I didn’t want to get caught, but I couldn’t resist. I had to trace the route Kentaro’s hands took. First my waist, feeling the weight and warmth of his hand through my skirt. Then, his fingers slowly inching up my shirt. The light touch of his fingers grazing my ribs. Oh God, the feel of the lace dragging over my puckered, tight nipple and the cool air hitting it when he freed my breast from my bra.

  Sweeping my panties to the side, I circled my clit with my fingers. Slowly, savoring the sensation of my cream lubricating each motion. It felt so good, yet it was lacking. My pussy begged for penetration. My middle finger glided into my throbbing cunt. Not enough. More. I needed more. With two fingers, I pumped my pussy, but still no satisfaction.

  Hard, hot cock. I needed to feel it stretch my pussy. Needed to be impaled and fucked. Needed the raw burning sensation made by a giant cock dragging against the walls of my cunt.

  At that moment, I’d have to settle for toying with my clit. Large circles became smaller and faster. My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to scream Kentaro’s name, but I suppressed the moan by biting down on my lower lip.

  The pressure rose. The walls of my cunt tightened around my fingers. My clit fluttered against the heel of my hand. Oh, how I wanted to stop, wanted to prolong the sensation. I was so hot I could have sustained this level of arousal for hours. Taking myself to the brink and then backing off just as I’d want my lover to do. But I couldn’t. I’d already risked too much. What if someone walked in? There was no way to mask or hide what I was doing. I needed to be quick.

  My cunt protested as I slid my fingers out, but I quelled it with a wide, sweeping stroke of my clit. Then another. And another. My breath caught in my throat. My knees shook. I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of my reaction. Like a jolt of lightning, my clit exploded, knocking me back. I stumbled and landed on the toilet. With my legs stretched out in front of me, I continued to circle my clit until wave after wave of orgasm shuddered through my body. I slid a finger into my pussy so I could feel it constrict and pulsate.

  As my body convulsed, I moaned, smiled, and whispered, “That’s for you, Kentaro.”

  The bathroom door opened and I rushed to right myself. A quick flush, and I stepped out of the stall. Akiko, a co-worker, washed her hands and looked at me in the mirror. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re red.”

  I chuckled. “Yep. I’m fine. Just winded from the walk from the station.” I washed my hands. Akiko held the door for me, and we returned to our stations.

  My friend and co-worker, Maya, perched on my desk when I returned to my cubicle. “So, how’d it go yesterday?” she asked.

  Maya was an adorable, imp of a girl—short with blonde pixie hair, big green eyes, cute little upturned nose. She was all of five feet tall and spritely. Apparently, every Japanese man’s wet dream. Well, maybe not all Japanese men. My thoughts returned to Kentaro on the train. What the hell did that mean anyway?

  Instead of reliving the train ride, which would lead to another mad dash to the semi-privacy of the bathroom stall, I had to relive my job interview.

  “Mr. Kobayashi’s nice, isn’t he?” she asked.

  Nice wasn’t a word I’d use to describe the fat pimp. “What exactly did he tell you about recruiting girls to work for him?” I walked past her and pulled out my desk chair.

  “Well, he said, ‘Send your friends to me. I need more girls.’ Why?”

  Bless her heart. Maya really didn’t get it. “Maya, sweetie.” I touched her knee, trying to soften the blow. “He meant your thin, beautiful friends.”

  Maya’s cute lips formed an ‘O.’ “But you are beautiful.”

  “Glad you think so.”

  She pouted. “I’m not the only one who thinks so!”

  “Really? Name one.” Please say Kentaro. Please, please, please say Kentaro.

  Her hesitation was all the answer I needed. I wanted to tell her about Kentaro’s actions on the train, but I still had no idea what they meant. Maybe he saw me making out with Sanchez and thought I was easy. Maybe he felt up women on the train every morning as an enjoyable way to pass his commuting time. I could understand not looking at me on the train. It made the act more discrete. Departing the train without a backward glance sent an entirely different message. Too bad my stupidity prevented me from reading the damn thing.

  “Nat, you’ll find someone. I promise. In the meantime, what are you going to do for money?”

  “I think I’m going to have to sell a kidney since no one wants my body.”

  She huffed up. “Hostesses are not whores.”

  “Honey, I know. I was being facetious.”

>   She hopped from my desk. “We’ll find something for you.” She squeezed my shoulder. “Is it really so bad at home?”

  “I managed to get some sleep. Jenn was out until two. There were three men at the apartment this morning.”

  “Damn. She’s insatiable.”

  “Yep. Jenn loves sex, and she’s not afraid to let everybody know it.”

  “Who would have thought orgies would be so disruptive?”

  “Mine never are.” I joked, but when Maya shot tea out her nose from laughing so hard, I was a tad bit insulted. I could have an orgy! Yeah, well that would require more people in the room than just you.

  I tried to concentrate on the curriculum development project for some middle-management men being transferred to their company’s London office, but hunger took over. Visions of the jam-covered English muffin interspersed with images of mile-long dicks and hands sliding up my shirt clouded my mind.

  With a shake of my head, I stood, stretched, and walked to the office canteen. A green-tea dispenser stood next to the vending machine. I grabbed a paper cup and held it under the nozzle and felt the warmth along my palm as the cup filled with hot tea. I stood before the vending machine trying to decide between hot ramen or chocolate-covered Pocky sticks.

  The silver yen coins clanked as they entered the machine. I pushed the buttons and my selection fell with a thud to the dispensing area. Just as I bent over to fish the sweet snack from the back of the machine, the door to the break room opened. I righted myself and turned to see who had entered.

  Naturally, it was Kentaro.

  God, not only did he see my big ass in the air, he caught me buying cookies.

  He nodded in my direction, which was more recognition than I usually got. With a slight bow, I raced to the door.

  Could he hear my heart?

  I couldn’t get that interaction out of my mind. Every file, every piece of paper, every e-mail reminded me of Kentaro’s thumb sliding across my nipple as his body blocked me against the door of the train.

  By noon, my state of arousal overwhelmed me and I knew I had to do something. I spent my lunch hour searching the Internet on my smart phone and found my answer. Of course, barging into Kentaro’s office, hiking up my skirt, walking behind the desk, and lowering myself onto his erect, rock-hard cock would have been much more satisfying, but this was a more realistic solution. The store was located one stop from Shakujii-kōen and a thirty-minute walk from my apartment. It meant taking the local train and twelve stops before reaching my destination, but it would be worth it.

  High school kids dressed in the uniforms from different academies filled the train. The cute girls all had their skirts shorter than allowed by the schools. It was easy enough to do—roll up the waist band to reveal just the right amount of thigh. I smiled at one of the homelier girls with her skirt past her knees. For some reason, I could relate to her.

  The boys had their shirts unbuttoned and their ties loosened. They hovered over the cute girls. One hand on the overhead bar as they flirted with the rhythm of the train. The sexual tension bounced off the walls of the train car. Sweat mingled with supercharged pheromones. Had it always been so charged? Or had my dormant sexuality just ignored it. I felt like a sleeping giant had been awakened and wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. Suppression had worked so well in the past.

  I pushed past the swinging school boys as I exited the train. “Iroppoi! Sexy mama,” one boy said when I walked by. The other boys laughed.

  What the hell did that mean? Maya and Jenn would have taken it as a compliment. Why did I immediately think they were making fun of me? A quick remembrance of my morning activities made me decide to take it as a compliment, too. Both Sanchez and Kentaro couldn’t be wrong, could they?

  Yeah right, Sanchez kissed me to get another guy’s attention and Kentaro felt me up like some stranger. Don’t over think it!

  Thoughts of Kentaro filled my mind on the three-block walk from the station to my destination. Funny how Sanchez’s mind-melting kiss could be so quickly forgotten. All I could think about was Kentaro’s hands on my breast. Once at the store, I found what I needed then hurried home.

  The quick, self-pleasuring session in the bathroom at work had done nothing to ease my tension. Bottom line. I was horny. My senses were charged, and the tiniest of movement made my pussy ache and tingle. All day, I sat at my desk with soaking wet panties fantasizing about Kentaro under my desk, licking my thighs and flicking his tongue over my swollen clit. All day. Every second.

  Jenn foiled my plans to go directly to my room when I stepped into the apartment. As a pilot for Japan Air Systems, her schedule was sporadic. I never knew when to expect her home. She could’ve lived anywhere in Toyko, since the airline provided her housing, but she chose the three bedroom, Western-style apartment, complete with garden in the suburbs, because it offered more privacy. She hadn’t been looking for a roommate, but a mutual friend introduced us. The price was right, and I moved in a week after our meeting.

  “I ordered pizza,” she said. “It should be here in a few minutes.” An open bottle of merlot joined two glasses on the table. “I wanted to apologize for this morning. I meant for the boys to be gone before you woke up, but things got out of hand. We didn’t embarrass you too much, did we?” She walked over to me, took my bags, and led me into the living room. There was no way to argue with Jenn. As much as I wanted to go directly to my room, she wouldn’t allow it. She had it in her mind that she needed to apologize. Getting away wasn’t an option.

  She sat the bags on the table and poured the wine.

  We sat on pillows on the bamboo tatami mats. “So, how was your day?” Jenn asked at the same time the delivery guy knocked on the door. When she stood, she knocked the bag off the table and my purchase fell to the floor.

  She stepped over the hermetically sealed package and walked toward the door. As she flirted with the delivery boy, I scooped it and put it back in the bag.

  “Oh, Natalie, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” She set the pizza on the table. “Can I see?” She reached around me, brushing my breasts with her arm as she took the bag from my side.

  She pulled out the thick, black dildo. “Sweetie, the boys turned you on this morning, didn’t they?”

  Yeah, watching the men fondle each other had been hot. Sanchez plastering me against the ticket booth and dancing with my tongue was awesome, but Kentaro on the train was what did it. I couldn’t tell Jenn about the incident. As much as I wanted to analyze the event, to talk about it would lessen it somehow. I wanted to close my eyes and imagine the feel of Kentaro’s hands on my breasts, to trace his touch, to plunge the giant dildo into my cunt and imagine Kentaro filling me with cum.

  “Yeah, they did,” I admitted and sipped wine.

  Jenn held up the package. “This is really good, but I have something much better.” She reached for my hand. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

  “Uh, thanks Jenn, but I really don’t feel comfortable using anything of yours.” How gross! It’s bad enough I have to sleep through orgies every night, but sharing sex toys? Hell no!

  “Sweetie, trust me on this.” She pulled on my hand, and I followed her.

  My room was peaceful, quiet, tranquil—a perfect place to relax after a busy day. Jenn’s room was a sultan’s den of iniquity—red silk, plush pillows, oils, lotions. Beautifully painted scenes from the Kama Sutra decorated the northwest corner of the room in accordance with feng shui to enhance her sexual chi.

  It obviously worked.

  Jenn gave me a gentle nudge, and I perched on the edge of the mattress. When she knelt between my knees, my heart stopped. “Uh, Jenn, I don’t think…” My voice trailed off as Jenn ran her hand along my knee, past the hem of my skirt, and touched the delicate, tender, sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

  “Jenn…” I scooted back on the bed to get away from her touch, but she followed me. Jenn’s lips drowned out my objection. Soft lips. Spicy tongue. Gentle cares
ses.

  She tasted sweet. Sweet and juicy like a peach. The kiss with Sanchez that morning in the station had been hot, urgent, and demanding. Jenn’s kiss was as arousing, but in such a different, delicate way.

  “Jenn…really.” I tried to pull away, but she followed me onto the bed and held me in place with her knees.

  “Just feel it,” she muttered against my lips. “Don’t think.”

  Instead of following my instinct and pushing away, I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensation for one second. Only a second.

  So sensuous. Exotic. The second stretched to much longer as I discovered the kiss of a woman.

  When her hand slipped under my sweater, visions of Kentaro on the train filled my mind. I tried to relax into Jenn’s touch. I’d experienced an entire day of foreplay and was ready to give in, but I knew it was Kentaro’s touch I wanted. Not Jenn’s.

  Jenn flicked my swollen nipple, and I took her hand. “Jenn, I can’t do this.”

  “Yes, you can, sweetie.” She ran her tongue over my lips.

  “I can’t…I’m not…” I grabbed Jenn’s hand. “Stop it.”

  I had Jenn’s attention and blushed as the beautiful woman sat back and looked at me. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I had no idea how to explain how I felt.

  “Sweetie.” She caressed my cheek. “I know you’re not a lesbian, but please let me do this for you.” Her thumb traced my lower lip. “I know you need it.”

  “It’s not fair because I don’t think I could do anything to…uh, assist you.”

  “I want to do this.” Her azure eyes gazed into mine.

  My God. She wants me!

  Her generosity took my breath away, but I managed to ask, “Why?”

  “Because you’re beautiful and sexy and my friend.” She ran her tongue along my neck, sending shivers through me. “Because I know you need to be fucked, and Natalie…” She pulled back, stared into my eyes, grasped my breast, and said, “I want to fuck you.”