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The J-Girl Model

By: wet_special



This short story is the introduction in a three part series, let me know if you would like me to finish and publish the other two chapters and find out how it things go for our protagonist, Hanako. Kudos to lkguy for editing.

WARNING / SPOILER ALERT: There is an erotic passage that features a dick girl with another girl.

Disclaimers: The characters and events are fictional. Any events or situations involving mention of real persons are purely fictional. The views expressed by the characters do not necessarily represent those of the author. Brief mention of childhood and teenage years appears in the first few paragraphs, HOWEVER, situations inappropriate to underage characters are neither depicted NOR inferred.



Living out of hotels and staying in shape is not as hard as it sounds, but it takes endurance. Luckily, I love my manager, and by that I mean I absolutely belong to her. Without her, I never would have become a bikini model.

My father was a sumo wrestler. He died when I was an infant. My mother still keeps a photo of him over the mantle and one by the door. Even though they were never married, I guess it makes sense that she was always loyal to him. After all, she had been made one of his primary beneficiaries in his will. The money easily paid for her humble home in rural Shikoku, Japan, and she never had to work again. Instead, she stayed home and raised me.

To make the money last, my mother forbid any splurging on luxuries, even junk food and candy. There wasn't enough money for fancy clothes and such. She cooked my meals, every day she placed a homemade bento in my backpack and sent me off to school. We shopped for clothes at the thrift shop. It wasn't so bad because I could wear a uniform to school just like the other kids. My mother taught me to be humble and never complain.

I was an awkward teenager, the tallest by far in middle school. The more I grew, the harder it was to find clothes my size, thrift store or not. Thankfully, I found a part time job and used that money to get things to wear at the big and tall store. By the time I reached high school graduation, many of the boys were finally catching up in height but I was still the second tallest in the school.

As expected, I flunked the college entrance exams, but my boss had already promoted me to full time. It wasn't much of a job, but it kept me occupied and I learned some important lessons.

I started out selling cakes and souvenirs at a local tourist attraction, a job I held for quite a while. I was supposed to handle the cash register, but I was also required to always greet passing tourists, and cut little cakes into tiny sample sizes. I also had to sweep my area hourly, at minimum.

For whatever reason, my bust continued to develop years after I stopped growing taller. It must have been good for sales, because at the first hint that I was looking for work elsewhere, my manager offered me a raise. This was after only a year and a few months of selling cakes, before I even knew how little I knew about what I was doing. By that I mean that I could sweep and handle the cash register, but had only the faintest inkling of the charming arts I would someday employ professionally. 

Like any comely young lady working my way up from the very bottom of entry-level sales, I hoped one day my prince handsome would rescue me and sweep me off my weary feet. In reality I was taller than most Japanese men and hardly any ever asked me out. Those that did were just creeps and barcode businessmen (so named because of the pattern made by their combovers). Americans and other western tourists were sometimes bold enough to proposition me, but how could I receive such advances?

I asked my co-workers how to deal with such customers. They told my mother, and we had a talk about it.

"Your father's genes made you tall," she said. "You are also beautiful, and your breasts are even bigger than mine. These are all things that men desire, and someday you might land a good husband, but not if you squander your love on a man who can't speak your language."

So I waited, and I began to worry. Perhaps a dashing and tall Japanese man was out there looking for me, but then again, what were the chances he would ever show up at my booth? I was convinced that whoever this tall man was, he had settled for some tart from Tochigi. Meanwhile I was stranded on Shikoku island, the most attention I ever got was fending off lonely creeps that loitered in the periphery of my booth seeking a vantage to snap photos of me with their smartphone cameras. It was times like those that I was glad for the security patrols and our thick, unflattering uniforms.

Those uniforms were the same style for young and old employees. Watching the older booth hands, it began to dawn on me that I needed to do something more to get ahead, but I was still clueless as to how. I had looks and appeal, but I had convinced myself that using my natural gifts was only a means to a sleazy and unfair advantage.

After three years of work, I began to doubt I would ever find my prince handsome. I just needed someone to romance me, he didn't even need to be rich. I longed for a warm lover to sleep beside. I fantasized about men, the rough and strong type, and pardon the use of actors as an example but I envisioned my prince looking like a Toshiro Mifune or even a Ken Watanabe, only in their youth, in their twenties, with a little muscle and a fierce tan. Such men have become an endangered species in my country. Instead we have pale, frail beansprouts with Saiyajin pompadours. I wondered if I could ever be attracted to such effeminate males.

Then, oddly, but suddenly, I began to fantasize about being in bed with other women, friends and co-workers of mine who I was attracted to. I became very curious about women, obsessed with the allure of the feminine.

I did not dare act on those strange desires. In the villages where my mother, aunts and uncles live, that sort of thing was tolerated at best.

"Bad enough there are so many drag queens on TV," I could imagine them say, "We in Shikoku are not deviants."

Still, there was one girl who seemed more than willing to share her time with me. Michiko was her name, and she worked at the gift store. She was twenty three when we became friends. It started out under platonic pretenses, with movies and mocchi at her little apartment. 

Neither of us could admit what was going on until it had already started. As we watched a movie one night, she rested her head on my shoulder, and I took her hand in mine. We stayed in that position through the rest of the film and most of the credits. The feeling of intimacy had grown so strong by that point that we knew without a doubt what we were about to do. We just didn't know how far we would go.

We turned to each other and kissed, softly at first. Our passion swelled until we were gasping for air, and then she kissed the top of my breasts. We wriggled out of our jeans and our pastel pink underwear, sweating and panting as we sought each other's lips, and more.

Those moments were so innocent and pure, we never held back for a moment. I felt a spiritual awakening within me, a sacred reverence for the erotic power of the female gender.

The next day, I woke up and wanted to shout from the rooftops that I had kissed another girl and it was everything I dreamed a kiss could be, with either man or woman. We were not of the lesser gender. We were one, and that was plenty, and all I needed. I lived for the next kiss, but we were careful to keep it hidden from our colleagues.

We dated for over a year, and while we grew closer at first, over time our relationship became more physical than emotional. We resorted to vibrators and strap-on dildos in pursuit of greater stimulation, and we had sex for hours at a time. It was great, although we could never find the way back to the secret garden that had been our first prolonged caress.

We shared our secret fantasies, and in the process we shed a little too much innocence. With every fantasy, there was a fixation on the macho male, and it became clear that there was a longing for that strength and sublime virility for which there is no substitute. Michiko never realized she was attracted to women until she and I had begun to hang out; she had dated men in the past and wanted to again. Of course, that would leave me alone once more, but I confessed I had the same desire to someday have a man who lived to care for me and make passionate love to me. We fantasized about picking a man up in a bar just for fun and threesomes, but we never followed through. We could have, but it wouldn't have been enough.

I was unprepared when it happened. She found a boyfriend and he was serious about her. I was cut out of the picture. Heartbreak settled in like a bad tenant.

During the weeks that followed, my eyes burned with unwanted tears whenever I saw her at work. A lump formed in my throat whenever I tried to find words to speak. I had been her eager sex kitten for the past year and she was a pretty good friend as well. Loving her had been easy, turning it off was so hard, especially when I always thought it would be me who would one day do the dumping.

I wrote her a few letters. Sometimes I cried when I wrote, but I tried to come from a logical standpoint. Who knows, perhaps those letters were hopelessly emotional: I was. I confessed to her that I had conflated her with the thrill and bliss of loving another woman for its own sake. I told her that it was only natural for me to come down from those heady heights. That was why it couldn't ever be the same, among other reasons. I still wanted to write to her and to love her, so I proposed that her fiancée join us in a threesome. It was not to be. Eventually I realized there was no point telling her I missed her.

I showed up to work feeling like a wounded giraffe, tall and guarded and utterly miserable. I could not let my heartbreak show, however, so I began to put on an act. I would greet customers properly and with a smile, and I would smile at babies too. I didn't want to, but I told myself I would do it and look warm and natural and bright. I made up short phrases to use in every situation to sound warm and friendly and natural, and wrote them down in a notebook. It was to be the start of my charm studies.

Time heals all wounds, and six months later I was over Michiko. I was a little more guarded with my emotions. My charm studies were a casual hobby, nothing serious, and yet they already helped. I sold mini-cakes better than ever, greeting every tourist warmly. As for babies, I said "Konnichiwa" with a big smile, eye contact, a wave of my hand, and always with a sustained tilt of the head. These greetings, while heartfelt, were executed with precision, over and over. They were aimed at bringing young parents (particularly fathers who might otherwise be intimidated) to my booth. Moreover, I placed a new emphasis on my daily cosmetic routine, and in the evenings, I spent time in front of the mirror practicing my charm. My world was sales, and I wanted to do my very best.

I dreamed of improving my sales totals, but it seemed I had reached the limit with what I could do with prepackaged cakes. I decided that I was destined to sell fresh products. It was more pressure, but the reward was more profits.

I thought about buying my own stand, this time selling caramel or cream puffs, but I needed to buy a permit from the site owner, not to mention all of the kitchen equipment. I asked my mom for a loan, and she said no, which meant I didn't have a prayer of getting a loan at the bank. So I decided to improve my selling techniques and save money more aggressively.

At the time, I was almost bursting out of my D-cup bras, and my uniform was getting tight around the breasts. I decided to buy some E-cups. They fit me perfectly, but I needed the uniform to match. The next size up was only available in a cut meant for matronly, plum-shaped women. It would have been easier and cheaper to just get alterations done at the cleaners. However, my mother's frugal habits had become deeply ingrained, as I struggled with the prospect of paying for alterations now and into the future. I knew that in the long run, I could save time and money, so I asked my mom to teach me some simple alterations to accommodate my large breasts.

I still kept the cut of my uniform demure, as that was the company policy. Besides, my mom and I liked it that way. It was enough that the uniform fit well around my little waist, and flared slightly for my hips. Sales continued to improve, and I saved my money. I even started to pay my mother a little rent.

I longed for somebody to be with. Not one man in all of town, in all of Shikoku, ever got up the nerve to ask me out on a date. With my height and bust and yes, my good looks, I must have been very intimidating, but on the inside, I was foot-stompingly frustrated. I couldn't help it if my genetics had resulted a very statuesque combination of phenotypes. I tried not to worry about it, but two years later, I was still miserably single. I had not gone out on even a single date worth mentioning because men just never asked, and I had no intention of chancing it with another woman.

One holiday when I was feeling particularly lonely, I took my measurements again. I was going to make some alterations to my street clothes, and damn what anyone thought of me.

I took my favorite white sleeveless blouse, which I had already taken in at the waist, and I took it in some more. I tightened it until the fabric clung to the undersides of my boobs. I could still button it up to the top, of course, but if I left the top three buttons undone, it showed just the right amount of neckline, flaunting it without flogging it. I admired myself with it on in the mirror, imagined going to the store wearing it, and got cold feet. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that in my own hometown. Sure, a flat chested girl could have gotten away with wearing a tight shirt with a few buttons undone, but my melons were so plump and bouncy that the shirt produced an overtly sexual display. I could just imagine the old men staring as I walked by the barber shop at the corner. There would be titillation perhaps, but it would soon be followed by condemnation and before long, my mom would hear of it.

"What is the point of upsetting them?" I asked myself. "Best to avoid strife." I hung the shirt up for another day.

That was when I started to dream about modeling. I didn't know when or how, because as a teenager I was so gawky and tall it always seemed a job for cuter girls of more average proportions. Now I saw myself differently, and in front of the camera my height didn't matter as much.

***

One day, a young woman approached my booth. She wore a business suit, but she had the fake tan and dyed blonde hair of a ganguro girl. She didn't care about cakes at all, she wanted me to appear at an audition. She said I was strikingly beautiful, and for a moment I assumed she was another up-and-coming model.

She said she was going to make me a star, and scribbled a time, date, hotel name and room number on a business card. The card read "Mihara Akiko, Photography and Modeling" but it had no phone number, no keitai.

My first reaction was something between doubt and eager acceptance. Doubt because I didn't know who this woman really was (she could have been a pornographer's agent for all I knew), but eagerness because it might be my break.

"Is this, um, is this going to be like, porn?" I murmured.

"Don't worry, honey, I don't do porn, but you should understand that we are going to show a lot of skin." It was a whopper of a caveat, I thought, and I shook my head to show I was not interested. The lady kept talking. Also, for someone I just met, she seemed quite comfortable with using familiar conjugations normally reserved for friends.

"We want our audience to be able to admire your curves, your body," she went on, casting a glance at my chest. "You look like you could be a star bikini model. No scars, birth marks, or tattoos?"

"None, but--" The way she cared about my skin, as if I were to be a slab of meat to be sold to the world. I offered the card back to her and looked at the ground.

"Look, this is a chance for you to get rich," she said, waving the card away. "Come to the audition. You can still decide later. There's only going to be myself and maybe a few other candidates. Bring your favorite outfit and a two piece swimsuit. Can I count on you?"

She spoke fluidly, and I quickly sensed that she had executed a sales pitch. In that, I somehow felt a kinship with the woman. I had questions and I didn't want to simply say no, but I was suddenly petrified.

The truth is, I was afraid that if I looked up at her again, she would have sussed me out. If she knew sales, she just might be watching me for signs of attraction. After all, allure was a part of her game, and this was no ordinary pitch.

The lady in the booth next to mine, however, was not impressed. The fellow across the way was openly staring at me holding the business card.

"Thank you, goodbye," I said.

"Be there, don't forget!"

When she had gone, I made a show of tearing the card in two and tossing it in my wastepaper bin. Later, while the others were busy with customers, I fished the two pieces out.

***

I never told anyone about the audition, even my mother. Akiko was there, and besides me there was only one other candidate in the suite. Her long black hair was meticulously brushed in straight bangs like a classic schoolgirl. She was beautiful, in fact she was such a stand-out sex bomb I had to make an effort not to stare. She wore a school uniform from the neighboring village.

Akiko was also dressed up in a schoolgirl outfit, but it wasn't the sort you would find at any real school. The pleated navy skirt was too short, and lacy frills poked out from underneath. She had the radical look of a ganguro – from the tan to the blonde hair down to her fluffy white leg warmers. When I came in, I saw her setting up her photo equipment, but she looked ready to participate in the shoot herself. She handed both of us release waivers to read over and sign.

The other candidate took pictures first, posing for the camera with innocent eyes and puckered lips. She raised her knee and took a few provocative poses. Akiko spoke approvingly as the schoolgirl lifted her skirt, revealing the skin above her lacy stockings.

Right away, I wanted to leave. This was porn, or something close to it. My staying had nothing to do with making a rational decision. Rather, I was transfixed by the sultry movements of the girl who was posing. It was as if I had entered a fantasy world, parallel but apart from my humdrum life selling cakes.

Akiko's camera shutter chattered greedily as the girl stripped off her blouse for the camera. The girl slowly unzipped her pleated skirt, then let it fall about her ankles. She wore a cream-colored lingerie ensemble. Akiko snapped away while the girl posed.

As suddenly as the strip show had begun, Akiko stopped snapping.

"Great," Akiko said. "Now, change into your bikini." Then she turned to me and said "It's your turn now, Miss Uchiya." I was already dressed in my white blouse and a short skirt, and I couldn't resist the urge to step forward onto the set. I looked to Akiko, who half-grinned and lifted her camera to her face.

I was being photographed, and I immediately realized that I had no idea what to do. When I looked into the vacant stare of the lens, my head would start to spin. I felt confused and upset as I realized the other candidate had made all of that posing look easy.

"Tilt your head back a bit, if you would," Akiko said. "Turn to your left. A little more. Stick out your butt. Hold it there." I followed her instructions, mechanically at first. Then it came to me, the arching of my back, the subtle use of my arms to accentuate my bust. Confusion was replaced by determination to do my best.


The J-Girl Model Ch. 02



The poignant tale of a normal girl and her dick girl boss unfolds, tracing four years of Hanako's life. For new readers, although there is a bit of a recap, it will be hard to follow the story without reading Part 1. This part gets to the sex pretty soon, so you know what to expect.




I wasn't the sort of model that wears haute couteur and struts along the runway, although I am tall. I won't be found in a regular clothes catalog, they all said my breasts were just too big. I was a good girl that didn't do porn, but I was a bad girl because I left home to be a sexy model. I was what we in Japan would call a gravure idol.

I suspect some girls attempting my line of work just get taken advantage of, usually by their boss. Fortunately for me, Akiko was my protector. She structured my schedule, planned my travel, and turned my photo shoots into good money. She would say it was my breasts that helped me break through. I would say Akiko was the dynamo behind my sudden success. She worked long hours to do everything behind the scenes. To say I was grateful did not begin to describe my feelings for her.

Physically, she was attractive from head to toe, she had a tight body, pretty eyes, sexy little lips. Akiko really was a sight to see in her schoolgirl outfits with legwarmers and pumps. She was a beauty but with a twist that I came to welcome.

In case I have to spell it out, Akiko isn't your usual girl. Although she has all the supple curves and facial features you might expect of a woman, she also has a penis, complete with testicles (big ones). Even though my protector was mostly girl, she still could have and would have taken full advantage of me on the audition couch. She almost did, but I told her it would be wrong.

She gave me my space, instead filling the hours of my days with photo shoots, workouts, travel, and scheduled naps. Incidentally, these activities filled her days as well, leaving no time for her to find romance. All we had was each other. She got to see me posing provocatively, and I had the pleasure of her company. We buried our desire for months, which gave me time to appraise her character. As I observed her work ethic and skillful photography, my feelings for her grew. She showed me what a professional could do in freelance work, and set an example that filled me with admiration. A pretty girl gets a lot of promises of love and devotion from fans, but most of those are empty. I began to really see that Akiko was living for my sake, and my heart swelled for her. We were soon united in bliss and passion, but we kept it a secret.

As more months passed, I began to notice that some of her little quirks actually went deeper than I had initially been willing to believe. I already knew she was devoted to the silly ganguro fashion, always coloring her roots blonde and maintaining a deep fake tan. Actually, I liked her tan and her hair, but some other quirks were not so easily embraced. She could fill a swear jar just making small talk with a hotel receptionist, mortifying me. Also, she really did listen to Koda Kumi's music, I sometimes noticed her humming along on her headphones. She didn't care much to watch a lot of the movies that I liked, nor was I going to sit through "Battle Royale" with her. Our interests were like night and day, with only a little overlap where we could compromise.

Akiko kept me on a strict schedule on most days. We had travel and photo shoots, and when time allowed she had me perform fitness routines and yoga. She put me on a custom meal plan which let me eat lots of my favorite food, sashimi, but I had to cut back on white rice. When I was relaxing in my hotel room, she was taking care of the sales and copyright arrangements, getting me booked me in live appearances, and finding photo shoot locations near those travel destinations. For a girl with such a crass vocabulary, she was very professional about managing my time. If you only looked at her fake boobs, spray-on tan and schoolgirl outfits, you would probably think she was nothing more than a ganguro hooker, but she was actually a manager with first-rate organizational skills. She was also a real cosmetics expert, and she did my makeup and hair before shoots.

My job was relatively easy. I shopped for outfits, did all of my own alterations, and posed for the camera. I always wore something, because come on, we were not doing porn. Anyway, the magazines and web sites who usually bought my photos often had a look or a theme in mind, so I shopped according to their guidance. I started to collect swimsuits on the side, mainly because they didn't take much room in my suitcase, and the skimpy ones really took some careful altering to fit me perfectly. Some were also very expensive, so I wasn't willing to part with them after just one photo shoot. Still, there was no chance for me to wear them casually by the pool at any hotel. Akiko warned there could be paparazzi if I went to the pool or the beach. She was absolutely firm on limiting my exposure, so once every three months I did what she called a "special reveal" photoshoot. That was where I wore a stringy little bikini and released two or three sizzling shots to publishers, the kind that might get me on the cover of a magazine and lots of money.

To be honest, I was no longer worried about how much skin I showed. Akiko calibrated my exposure and public image. My desire, depending on what I was wearing, was to be that devil or angel fantasy girl that would titillate Akiko. I was confident that I looked sexy when I could tell Akiko was hard.

So there I was, posing for an audience of thousands, perhaps millions. Little did they know that I was thinking about a girl's cock when I smiled at the camera. Every day that I lived the life of a gravure idol, I was that much less concerned over the traditional mores of my hometown with its aging population. If Akiko said something was okay, that was good enough for me.

My growing fan base was a mixed bunch. A subculture grew around a handful of doujinshi artists that drew me in pornographic fan comics. My audience ate it up, including scenarios where I was gangbanged, titfucking old geezers, getting anally raped by tentacles, and all the other boilerplate hentai. Akiko assured me it generated interested, but I didn't like it. Gravure models rarely inspired doujinshi. We both knew the laws, though. In this case, we couldn't sue because they claimed it was fiction about a big-breasted girl with a similar name and background, but not me. Of course, it was linked to from all of my major unofficial fan sites. Sorry, mom!

Among my so-called fans, there were many critics that insisted that my 90 cm bust was just a couple of silicone balloons, or that digital post-processing concealed the telltale signs of sag and wrinkling. Some vehemently disagreed, explaining that post-processing would conceal my faint veins. Some claimed that my veins were airbrushed on. Others argued that I had waited until my umpteenth implant surgery to begin modeling, and I was late to begin at age 25. Some speculated on my pre-surgery breast size, or worried that my breasts would soon sag like a couple of empty rice sacks. Some speculated that I had secretly given birth and was saving the milk. All of it was utter garbage. Still, they were fixated on my breasts, I supposed that was a sign of success.

Some critics accused me of secretly having a boyfriend, although none could provide any details or evidence – their continued accusations didn't faze me in the least. They only served as proof that Akiko's secret remained safe. Yes, the fact that Akiko had a penis was a fairly well-guarded secret. As far as my fans knew, I was utterly single. Some fans hoping to woo me sent me monetary gifts, and I made it known that I rewarded gifts with signed articles of clothing that I had worn – usually a T-shirt. The response was incredible at first, and I soon had a whole new wardrobe.

Although the money was good, the fame was simply a curse. Before long, I found myself unable to simply go to a cafe or a convenience store without being accosted, at least in Japan. Sometimes this was fine, but sometimes the men obstructed my path or followed me. I felt threatened, and so I tended to ride in the back of a vehicle with darkened windows. I tried to take martial arts but soon found that I just didn't have the fortitude, and Akiko made me quit at the first appearance of scrapes and bruises.

Akiko often read me fan mail, ensuring that we kept in touch with what our customers thought, but some of it was absolutely awful. Other times, we received some serious messages. I remember the first time I got a request from a medical research foundation, and I was honored to make an appearance at a fundraiser.

Some fan letters stood out, especially the ones that contained a check, no strings attached. When making correspondence with some of these generous fans, I found that they were multi-millionaires who would pay in cash to have a personal, private meeting. Although they did not say it, I knew what would be expected of me if we met. It was unspeakable, even to my diary, to even consider such propositions. I always thought Akiko felt the same way, the way she laughed them off. Apparently, I misread her.

"You know, we're going to be in that area in two weeks," Akiko said after reading one such letter. "What do you think, want to tell him you'll meet him?" It was barely six months into my career.

I laughed and looked at her, but she was serious.

"Akiko, you're the only one for me." I was so corny. "I couldn't bear the thought of it."

"Really? I thought maybe," she trailed off.

"Thought what, darling? It's not totally crazy."

"Well, let's say you see this guy one time. He doesn't look that bad or old. Imagine, he pays us all that money, we tell him the rules, you play with his noodle, and then you say goodbye. When you come back, I'll still be here. It's just a shitload of money waiting for you to take it. More than that, you could make friends with a really powerful rich dude. You know, you might call him for a favor just a little further on down the road, and you'll know he has a weakness for those fuckable boobs of yours. Isn't that thrilling just to imagine?" 

Not only was she fine with me having sex with other people, she insisted that I stopped acting like we were already married. We were lovers, but that didn't mean we couldn't see others. It shocked me that she might feel that way about me. After all, I never once noticed Akiko seeing anyone else. She was always in the hotel room or at most, she'd run down to the corner store and come right back.

She made me think about love in ways so different from what I learned at home. My mother didn't get married, for example, but after me, she never married again. I know she had some admirers, especially when I was still young, but she turned them all away out of loyalty to a man who was dead. Likewise, my aunts and uncles for the most part stuck together, even if they could barely stand each other.

In stark contrast, Akiko would tell me that I should think about starting a relationship with some of the wealthy men, and encouraged me to allow any mutual attraction to evolve, even if it meant more dating and even marriage. Learning to accept that Akiko was willing to part ways with me helped me to understand a lot about her eventually, although I am ashamed to admit that I was still clueless at the time. I was more worried that she might be on the lookout for someone to be with, a fallback or a more stable companion. I wanted her to know I was stable, she wanted me to understand that we were not tied down.

She called it an open relationship, two words that I hated when put together. I came to know that she meant a lot of things by it, but not that she would ever, ever leave me hanging. I was also obligated to return her affection and respect her feelings, never trample on her in my rush to the door. It was so simple.

Thus, and with trepidation, I accepted that first offer, and other dates followed. They were some of the most powerful, wealthy men in Japan, and from those experiences I learned a lot. I started to specialize in a type of charm I never dared practice as a shop girl. The art of seduction is much more than just a pathway to carnal knowledge. I learned the time honored ways that women could seduce a man's mind. After that, everything is easy.

When seduction is done properly, she first convinces him that she sees him as an alpha male, a dominant, masculine type. Once that is established, it becomes the pillar of his magnetism, and she lets him assume that it is the thing about him that she cannot resist. Of course, this technique is well known, but men are suckers for it, as long as you do a little acting and they have something to be proud of. Imagine, if you will, a man hits on a woman he has never met in a singles bar. Why is this so hard? Why the gimmicks and loud music, why does everyone gravitate to the liquid courage?

Imagine if a pretty woman could simply ask "What would you be willing to do for me?" as a response to any lame pick up line, without being called a gold digger. After all, that question could judge a man by his wealth, or his skills, or his words. At least he can decide how he wants to respond. No man feels proud to stand there telling a stranger how pretty she is. If men are not wholly independent, they should at least be agents of industry and progress. They should be planners, builders, managers, masters, then lovers. Imagine if young men, knowing precisely what women would ask of them, actively sought to better themselves in many ways, so that they would be ready to tell any lady what they were made of? I think in such chance meetings, expectations would be much better aligned, and some men would likely dispense with immature pickup lines altogether.

This is how I pictured the situation whenever I went on a first date. I asked him about his power and his successes. even if they were paying me and I was acting a part. I just went after the truth, and asked them about themselves. It was easy for these successful men to impress me. Then I would show that I had listened, and express how much I cared about their victories and success. It wasn't hard, appreciating others is one of my stronger personality traits. Yes, I went to bed with them, and yes, I gave them whatever they wanted. They paid well and I enjoyed it. Usually, there was nothing more to say.

Akiko grew up in California for much of her childhood, and she spoke English fluently in addition to Japanese. She began to teach me English soon after we teamed up. Teaching a language sounds like a massive task, and it is, but let's not forget I already had a foundation from school, and we in Japan watch a lot of Hollywood movies with subtitles. Akiko wanted me to learn English because she believed I could break into American markets if I spoke well enough. It was a challenge, with so many beautiful starlets to compete with. Unless I got a little star power or fame in the US, I wasn't going to get featured in FHM or Maxim.

Even with my slender body and curves, there was always a little room for improvement. In terms of fat, I was considered skinny and top heavy by American standards but by Japanese standards, I was almost chubby. I felt I was thin enough, and refused to starve and be twig-thin like an AKB girl. The scant fat that was on my ass and stomach was healthy, and besides, it helped my bust look its very fullest. What I could use a little more of, Akiko explained, was muscle tone.

Akiko became my trainer. Her rule number one was that running of any kind was to be minimized, and jogging was absolutely not allowed. It would strain my lower back, she warned. Additionally, it would permanently reduce my breast size, and build too much core muscle, which would widen my waist. She put me on a proper program of swimming, yoga, and leg exercises, the same as she had done to achieve her hourglass shape. I really admired her toned physique, although clearly petite, she had visible abs and her little waist flared out to muscular hips and a peach-shaped set of tanned buns. The goal of being toned like her motivated me to train, and I followed all of her instructions. It didn't take long to start seeing results.

Two years passed, some of the happiest days of my life so far. For one thing, Akiko was helping me improve myself. I was in good shape, and I had also become proficient in conversational English, although my vocabulary was poor and my pronunciation still needed lots of work. My fan base had peaked and leveled off, and I was searching for something new to gently increase interest.

The several controversies about my breasts had all died down, as it became clear that they were real. Just as Akiko predicted, my fans were loyal. Then again, I suspected some had lost interest because they heard rumors that I was performing escort services for wealthy clients. I had been spotted at one or two events and parties, sometimes on the arm of one of these men or even a member of parliament. There were no photos and thus no proof, but Akiko needed to quell the negative comments, and any lie would do. She put out a statement that I had made several appearances for charitable causes, and while I am sure it insulted my fan's intelligence, it muddied the waters and drowned out the voice of the critics. It sounds unfair, but that is show business. Other than that, the fans did not cause much drama.

Clients were a threat to my image, and Akiko was mindful of that. She often turned down dates for a variety of reasons besides that. For instance, a wealthy billionaire once wanted to fly me out to Dubai for one night. She turned him down politely, citing jet lag. The next day, a magazine we had never worked with contacted me (not Akiko, who actually managed everything) and asked me if I would do a photo shoot in Dubai. It was very fishy. Shortly thereafter, the billionaire asked me to visit again, and doubled his offered price. I asked Akiko to reconsider. She said she was pretty sure when they found T-girls in Dubai they got executed, but that I could go there without her. At this, I dropped the matter completely. The next time the billionaire called on me, I simply ignored him. She and I had a laugh about it over coffee.

During those two years, Akiko managed to arrange a dozen or so dates with clients, all of them Japanese men. Each was very different. All paid extremely well, about a million yen (ten thousand dollars) on average. All of them had been the architects of their own success, I had no stomach for trust fund mamma's boys who had never worked.

Dealing with paying clients was financially rewarding, but it came with its problems. Calls from wealthy heirs and playboys were annoying in the extreme. Calls from places hopelessly distant were likewise nothing but disturbances, but we had to dismiss them politely. It even got to the point we turned the cell phone off every evening. Sometimes we missed good opportunities.

Akiko decided to find a special agent to handle the booking of my escort services. I don't know how she found her, and to this day I have never met her in person or even seen a picture of her, but she became almost like a third member of our "team." Akiko nicknamed her "Paizuri," Known to others by many different names, Paizuri brokers dates on behalf of well paying clients who wish to meet only the most exceptionally attractive girls, including sit-com personalities and beauties so exotic and sought after, they are better off avoiding the limelight. We don't know much about her other than she resides somewhere in or around Hakodate and she just loves her crab cakes and natto rolls with rice and seaweed. She sounds like a well-educated lady roughly our age or older, and we're positive she's got a Swiss bank account with a ton of money.




The J-Girl Model Ch. 02



At any rate, the lady knew what she was doing. That became clear when she interviewed me about my likes and put-offs. I could tell she gathered information on her clients, and it was not the kind of fluff you would find in a resume. She had all the dirt on these men, and she looked out for me. I didn't want a scumbag or a trust fund heir. They just wanted a girl who matched the looks of the girl in Paizuri's escort catalog (my supposed doppleganger was Anri Sugihara). Aside from that, if I was near a potential client, Paizuri contacted Akiko, and she would try to fit him into my schedule. As a result, these men who met me never even knew I was somewhat famous.

Nearly every client had a strong desire for passion and romance. It was therefore my job to properly seduce them. As I said, I knew precisely how to do that. Perhaps is was my ample endowment that brought out the lust in them, but they all found me irresistible. I often fulfilled desires that their wives or girlfriends would not, and I got into the habit of always bringing extra condoms and lubricating jelly. I was surprised by how many of them took pills to help them stay hard or cum twice. Even so it was usually over in under thirty minutes. If it was too soon, I gave them a massage and sometimes we had another round – Paizuri insisted clients always book me for three or four hours. It was more expensive that way.

They would talk about what was on their mind. Sometimes they offered to take me away from my hard work, marry me and share everything with me. It led to some awkward moments when time was up. I came to rely on Paizuri's safety calls when the time of leaving was situated in the middle of his promises of security and endless leisure. When that call came, I had to put a code into my phone and respond. If they prevented me from doing so, they would be blackballed for a while by Paizuri and other escort services she networked with. If something bad happened to me, there would be consequences the client would rather not face.

With all of this sex and romancing, you would think Akiko would be more jealous, but she still encouraged me to find love in a rich man. I told her to give up the vain notion that I would ever seek such love on a hill, especially with a man who met me through Paizuri. I told her she was my base, my heart was invested in her. She seemed to like that I said that at first, but later it kinda made her mad.

When I was too busy folding my clothes and catching a plane, Paizuri handled my social media and tweeted about my visits to places. That was one of the main ways titans of industry and athletes learned that I would be in close proximity, in addition to all my fans. I was honored that a man worth hundreds of millions of dollars would be content to have a little romance with me. I was not as young as I used to be, so I took those opportunities whenever they were offered.

I tried to effectively balance my relationship with Akiko and my work with clients, but you never can be too sure with something as asymmetrical and nebulous as a relationship. Clients had a way of offering temptations that I found all too real. I hoped Akiko never guessed that I was really choosing between her and a client I had only just met. After all she had done for me, the thought of it was grossly unfair. Yet some of those offers really were hard to refuse. Akiko preached about keeping our relationship open, but there was no denying our special feelings toward one another.

We both regarded the other as wonderfully unique. It was plain that she had her tastes, I had my needs, and so the things we wanted from each other were not the same or even balanced. Yet we were drawn to each other, and on top of that our professional partnership was very successful. We both saw how our relationship carried the imprimatur of destiny. To break that bond was akin to blasphemy, for who were we to defy the gods of fate?

It was a day that started out like any other. I began to stir in the early morning twilight. I snuggled closer to Akiko, who had stayed up late working on business planning. I knew she was tired, so I didn't wake her. Instead, I watched her sleeping. Her face was so healthy and pretty, even without a touch of make up. We always slept in the nude, and I unconsciously began to fondle my pillowy breasts while I watched her steady breathing. I peeked under the sheets and found her cock was flaccid, which meant she was still deep asleep.

I went to the bathroom to freshen up. When I returned, Akiko had not moved. I must have made some noise to disturb her, however, because when I checked under the sheets again, I could see in the dimness that she now had an erection. I reached for it and squeezed to find that it was raging hard. Akiko's eyes opened minutely and then closed as she beamed a sleepy version of her usual half-grin.

I crept under the sheets and lay on my side with my face in front of her breasts. Using my lips, I sucked her nipples ever so gently, lightly caressing her sensitive nubs with my tongue. My breasts rested on her silky toned body. Her sharp nipples stiffened in mere moments, mine were slowly growing.

She stirred and ran her fingers through my hair.

"Mm, it's early as fuck you know," she murmured, squirming when I nibbled lightly on her stiffening buds.

With a gentle touch, I urged her to roll onto her back, then I curled up beside her. She wrapped her arm around me, and I began to fondle her perky and plump breasts. I leaned in to give her a kiss, she kissed me back with closed lips to conceal any possible morning breath.

That was fine by me, I intended to get her off before she was even fully awake. I sscooted down until I could touch my lips to the tip of her throbbing boner. I took her into my mouth, eliciting another moan from my futa chan. Slowly, I admitted her tip to the back of my mouth. As I withdrew, I sucked firmly and my cheeks hollowed out. She tilted her pelvis up at me, making it clear she wanted more, and I responded by bobbing steadily. In moments, I tasted the precum that dribbled from her bulging mushroom tip.

I felt her hands over mine, fondling her breasts, so I used one hand for support and the other I wrapped around the base of her cock. Between my hand and my mouth, every square centimeter of her slightly curved shaft was either lubricated with or bathed in my warm saliva.

I took my time, bobbing up and down for several minutes. This was one of my favorite things to pleasure her, and I tried to guess at what sort of exquisite feelings might be stirring within her. When she was ready, she cradled my head firmly in both hands and thrust her hips up at me, keeping my head more or less stationary.

I held on to the base of her cock to help her thrust to the same depth repeatedly. I drooled heavily, sucking and slurping as Akiko bucked and fucked my mouth to her first orgasm. As soon as she began to cum, she stopped bucking. I pressed my tongue along the underside of her glans in steady strokes, it was all she needed while she was cumming. Her spurting cock was twitching rapidly over my tongue. I looked up at her, holding eye contact while I drank her sticky white load. There was a lot of it, and once my cheeks started to bulge, I realized I better try to swallow.

I felt the need to pull off her pulsing cock before trying to swallow. I held her shaft so her cock would not swing up toward her face when I pulled off. Cum splattered on my hand and her cockas her tip popped out of my mouth. A couple of weak spurts splattered my lips as I gulped down what I could. She always had such prodigious loads, she still sometimes overwhelmed me. She lay back, utterly relaxed, and sighed with satisfaction. I licked my lips and then licked her cock clean, and by the time I was done, she was hard again.

We both went into the bathroom to clean up and rinse off. Soon we were in the shower together, ostensibly to wash off, but I kissed her and she opened her mouth to mine, and I melted into her arms.

"Good morning," she said. It was still early and we didn't have much to say, but she stared at my breasts, and I kept an eye on her stiff cock. We noticed each others attention and laughed.

"Fuck some more?" Akiko asked, looking straight into my eyes. "I'm so hard I could tear you a new hole."

I laughed, covering my mouth, and she laughed too. She was in the habit of saying the most awful things just to get me to smile. She said I encouraged her by laughing so she couldn't help it.

"I'm yours, my love. Let's just stay in this hotel all day and you can have your way with me." I met her gaze for a moment, but she eventually looked away.

"Well, we don't have all day, but I definitely plan on having my way with you."

I was convinced Akiko was super human, because she was never satisfied with less than two orgasms. Even after I had given her a perfectly decent blowjob, it was a given that she was going to want to do more. Besides, she would have felt guilty if all she did was glue gun my mouth with her first cum of the morning, then order me around for hours as she does on any typical day. No, it was not going to be over so soon. She takes pride in her skills as a lover.

"Tell me where you want me to start," she whispered in my ear.

She routinely asked me questions like this, I even came to anticipate it. Yet every time she made my word her command, I felt like I was her queen. As much as I respected and adored her, it was a very good feeling.

"My breasts." I said without hesitation. She was on me faster than I could blink, and I gasped as I felt her lips suck hard on my skin. I moaned with appreciation as I felt her teeth press against my soft, pink tit flesh. My pale nipples began to stiffen and turn pink, and she sucked on one.

"Oh babe, you're driving me crazy!" I moaned. She let my trapped nipple escape from her lips with a sucking pop, and I shuddered. She slurped my other hardening nipple up and my knees began to wobble. I am really sensitive – squeezing and slapping my breasts just does strange things to me, it makes my pussy wet and gets me feeling sexy and submissive. If done with dirty talk, I really get the urge to reciprocate. Overall, my breasts are very sensitive, and I can almost orgasm from the combination of firm fondling and sucking. Akiko often used them to her advantage, but they responded just as surely from the fondling hands of clients.

She scooped my breasts into her hands and held my nipples up to her lips, and rolled each of the erect pink nubs over her tongue in turn. She kept at them until I couldn't take it any more.

"Your cock," I begged. "Fuck me now, please." I caressed her blonde locks, urging her to lift her face to me. At last, she tilted her head up to mine for a kiss.

By this time, Akiko was plenty hard again and it was time for a good tit fuck, so we showered a little and lathered each others bodies with soap. As usual, she could not keep her hands off my breasts, and each squeeze made my pussy sing with elation, my entire cooch was drenched with my juices. She worked my breasts with soap until they were smothered in a foamy white lather. I wanted to be fucked so badly, but instead I patiently knelt in front of her. Then I folded her shaft into my cleavage.

I held my breasts tight together using my forearms, and she thrust up through them. From the first gentle thrust, I moaned and gasped. The way my long nipples jutted out from my foamy bouncing melons and brushed her thighs was stimulating, but each time she crushed my papayas with her pounding pelvis was sweet agony. She started slow, but was soon moving quickly, panting. When she slowed, I took over, bouncing my plump papayas up and down her shaft to the same tempo. I watched the expression on her face as I went. Her lips were slightly parted and she looked into my eyes.

"You are so fucking sexy, my god," she moaned. "A goddess on her knees, you are. I must be the luckiest girl alive." Saying this, she planted her feet firmly on the ground. She closed her eyes, her lithe body stiffened and she steadied herself against the wall. My cleavage started to fill with her clear, slimy pre-ejaculate.

"Shoot your load all over me," I said. "Shoot it anywhere you like, in my face, in my mouth, or in my hair. I don't care, just cover me with that hot cum!" I looked down to focus on the task at hand, and I was surprised as her cock let out a sudden spurt that shot up my nose. I immediately looked up to avoid a second nostril blast. A smile came naturally to my lips. 

"Oh, you want the rest, don't you?" she groaned, bucking against me. "Open wide, I'm cumming!"

I closed my eyes tight and opened wide as thick ropes of her jism splattered up into my face and chin. A few hot jets flew directly into my mouth, and I reflexively closed my lips to swallow. I lifted my chest up a little and let the rest of her massive load blast into my cleavage, and soon there was a puddle of cum atop my breasts and more dripping down all over my body.

I had grown experienced enough to know that in addition to multiple orgasms, Akiko just came a lot more than the average guy. She produced a lot of sticky white sex juice, and usually it was sweet and delicious. The way she came like a fountain was a real turn on for me, and this facial and pearl necklace had made me giddy with lust.

We kissed and she licked the cum off of my face and then we made our way to the shower. I stood under the hot stream and started to rinse off. Most of it came off with water and soap, but I had I had to scrub everywhere to remove the fibrous spermatozoa. I didn't mind, I always scrubbed my body and took extra good care of my skin. I focused on my face and eyes, and Akiko focused on scrubbing my breasts and then soaping the rest of my body into a lather.

When I was certain it was enough, I fell into her embrace, pressing my soapy melons against hers. She ran her gentle fingertips along my back as the shower rinsed the soap away. When she reached around my body and teased my ass with her fingers, I squirmed and moaned, lifting one leg to allow her better access. She slid one, then two fingers in and out of my ass.

"No," I moaned. "You can't have it."

"Can't have what?"

"You know," I said.

"No, I don't know exactly. Say it."

"You can't fuck my ass" I moaned and gasped. "I'm too tight this early in the morning."

"I want to fuck it, don't be such a tease," she chided. We both knew I was just teasing.

"Later then. I feel unsteady, um, I'll fall down."

"Oh you poor fucking thing," she sighed. "Come on, out of the shower."

We stepped out of the shower and just when I thought she had not sensed my true desire, she bent me over the sink. I felt her glop a palmful of hair conditioner on my wet, soapy ass cheeks.

"Don't, don't fuck my tight little ass," I said, even as I spread my legs wide.

My toned buns were slippery but she spread them with both hands, using only her hips to position herself at my tight rear end. Her cock felt warm against my anus. She pressed her slippery wet cock against my clenching backdoor and I tried to relax it for her. She eased through and began pumping in and out of me, sliding in a little deeper with each thrust.

"There's a good girl." She sighed as she pushed in deeper.

"Oh god, fuck me," I moaned. A few inches in, my ass involuntarily clenched around her slippery shaft, holding her in place. She let out a groan.

"Is it big for you, sweet tits? How does it feel?" she asked.

"It's so big, Aki. Don't hurt me, it feels like you're going to tear me open." The way I said it, overacting and moaning, she knew I was just playing a part. The truth was that anal was one of my secret perverted pleasures. With Akiko, I had to have it at least once a week. Anal orgasms weren't the same for me as vaginal. They were harder to attain, for one thing, but they felt so much more naughty. "You can start moving," I said but it my voice cut off into a groan as she thrust into me balls deep, then reached around to play with my clit.

"Mm, yeah, getting it in my pussy and ass is so good," I moaned.

"Oh? What if I had two dicks, would you want me to fuck both your holes at the same time?"

"It would be amazing for that," I whimpered, "but then how would I give them both a blow job?"

"I see your point. Hmm, what about fucking three dudes?" she went on, somewhat rhetorically. "Maybe today I'll gather up a few cabana boys by the pool and send them up to your room. Young ones, full of soda and rum and ready to cum." In her world, cabana boys were all gorgeous bi-curious studs that were ready to fuck anything in a skirt.

"This hotel does not have cabana boys or a pool."

"Yes, there is a pool, a big outdoor pool with poolside massages and a bar." She was humping my ass to a slow rhythm as she glibly spoke. "That means cabana boys. They also have room service massages. You lay on their massage table with a towel around your waist, and handsome young men with strong hands and tight butts--"

"Just fuck my butt," I grunted, wriggling as she languidly sodomized me. It bothered me a little that she thought about sex with dudes. That was what created division between Michiko and I, and while I didn't want to ruin the moment, I didn't even know how to broach the subject. I wanted Akiko to fantasize freely, because I love her just the way she is – I just hoped I had made it clear I didn't want to entertain those fantasies at the moment.

It was hard for her to reach my breasts in this position, so I began to fondle my melons for her. I squeezed and kneaded them, and felt that glow of pleasure in my breasts begin to spread down to my butt, and soon my whole upper body felt a bit like a big, slippery sex organ. It had begun. I just loved the pleasure of anal sex.

"I'm curious about what you would do with three guys," she went on. "What would you do if I called some and left you here with them?"

"Me? What would you do?" I asked.

"Well, I'd give them all wet, sloppy blow jobs, assuming they're cute. They could gather around, and I'd be on my knees. Or have one fuck my ass, and I'd suck off the other one."

"And the third?" I gasped.

"Hmm, you've got me there. Maybe I could get him to suck my dick. What would you do?"

"Three young men wouldn't compare to you. They'll cum too soon and then want to leave. I need you to fuck me all day long!" I moaned the last words loudly. She responded by taking me with deep, forceful strokes, shoving her pelvis against my buns and driving her cock into my rubbery bowels.

She held my hips with both hands and increased her tempo. As she shifted her stance, her tip popped out accidentally; she plunged right back through my gaping ass on the next thrust. She nailed me with long, steady strokes, and my insides began churning and tensing a familiar way.

"That's it," I said. "Use my ass as much as you want. All my holes are yours to fuck." I looked back at her, she liked to see my face when she was about to cum.

"So sexy," Akiko panted. "I'm about to cum again!" 

"Oh yes! Pump me full of cum, flood me with it! I'm yours, yours alone!" I grunted as she fucked my ass wildly. She slammed into me again and again, and the bathroom was filled with the sound of our girlish moans. She slowed her tempo and I could feel her cock pulse again and again as it spurted deep inside me. I turned to watch her cum. Her dyed blonde hair was frizzy and wet, her eyes were closed, her pouty lips were open. A sheen of sweat had formed over her breasts, it made her body glow in the mirror lights. Akiko was such a deliciously sexy lover, and she was still splattering my insides with her sweet jizz.

"Ooh, I can feel it," I moaned. I held still until I could no longer feel the tensing of Akiko's body against mine. "That was amazing," I sighed, and she nodded, looking unsteady on her feet. "Oh yes baby, I feel so full."




The J-Girl Model Ch. 02



Such moments made me so happy, and I wanted Akiko to get the sense of how I adored her, not just when we made love to my favorite opera music, but also when she fucked me hard and rough up the ass. I hoped she knew how much I was into anal, as I was a little ashamed to discuss it with her openly.

When her cock started to soften, she withdrew and turned me around to kiss me. Cum was still oozing out of my ass and dribbling down the back of my thighs, but I took the time to give Akiko a tender kiss. Then I hopped back into the shower, and she followed me.

"Do you want another round?" I asked. On average, Akiko came about three times per session, sometimes four. Five was rare.

"Oh, don't tempt me," she said with a chuckle "We gotta get going soon. Hey, did you cum that time?" she asked as we began to rinse off all the sex and soap.

"A little bit. I was close."

"Help me wash?" she said with a half grin. I didn't cum as easily in the morning, but we both knew that. In the evenings, I would sometimes start creaming in less than a minute of fucking, and soon lose count of the orgasms she gave me.

I washed her body all over, and soaped her cock thoroughly. Before long I knelt down in the seiza position, jacking her soapy shaft with both hands. As I brought my lips to it, she stopped me and had me rinse off instead.

"Mm, baby, I definitely could go another round, but kneeling like that is going to make your knees red. Get up and let's make sure you cum properly." She led me out of the shower and bent me over the sink, and looked into my eyes through the mirror. My wet body was pink and steaming from all the hot showering. Akiko guided her cock to my pussy and slipped into my wet warmth.

I let out a moan and she began thrusting to tempo. My pendulous breasts wobbled and shook as Akiko pounded me vigorously from behind. Pleasure that had built up before mounted quickly, and within minutes I was creaming all over her cock. I cried out over and over again as her thrusts caused my insides to quiver and contract. The sensations grew more and more intense, but Akiko didn't stop. It was soon too much, and I let my knees buckle for a moment. Her cock dislodged.

"Did I say you could sit down?" she asked. I shoot my head weakly as I straightened my legs for her once more. I spread them a little wider so that I could rest the bend of my hips against the edge of the counter. She pushed the tip of her cock up against my vulva, then surged into me once more.

"I'm gonna fill your pussy with so much cum, it'll fill your womb and dribble out for the rest of the day."

"Yes, anything you say!"

"What?" She kept surging, her balls slapping against my button. I didn't expect to cum again, but Akiko was driving me nuts as she drove into me faster and harder.

"I want it, I need you to fill my pussy with cum!"

Akiko picked up the tempo, filling me with her beautiful cock and hitting all the right spots. I could tell by the tempo that she was getting close, and I clamped my inner walls tight around her.

"So damn tight," she hissed, letting me know she couldn't hold on much longer.

I moaned louder. I started to envision all that cum being pumped into me. I was climbing from a pleasure valley to the next glorious summit. I met Akiko's thrusts as best I could, channeling all of my body's sensitive responses into my impending climax.

"Cumming!" Akiko hissed.

"Yes! Cum with me! Cum--" 

My voice broke as Akiko's helmet started bumping my deepest point. She slammed into my body with relentless vigor, her cock spewing a massive load. A half second later, my climax started to sweep over me, causing my pussy to convulse around her hard shaft. I looked back at her, her little breasts bouncing as she slid into me over and over. Each push prolonged and enhanced my orgasm, but she suddenly stopped.

"Don't stop!" I cried.

Akiko resumed thrusting, going gently until my orgasms steadily subsided.

"Oh my god Akiko, you are so good, so good." She asked me if I came and I said yes.

"Good," she replied, caressing my cheek and pushing errant bangs aside. "Now then, the time is, hmm, 7:40 already. I better prepare your morning meal. Oh, you're on for a photo shoot in 80 minutes. Got an outfit and a bikini that no one has ever seen?"

I smiled and gave her a nod.



The final chapter takes the girls through the rest of the day. Check for it soon. As always I appreciate your comments. 



The J-Girl Model Ch. 03



Welcome to the final installment of the series. Well, it happened. Somewhere on the way to perverted smut, I wound up with a short story that leaves the erotic elements largely to the imagination. The focus of this part is on telling a story, but I hope it still meets the expectations of my readers. 

*****

We were out at the photoshoot when Akiko's phone rang.

"Rest," she said, although I had merely hopping up and down in warm, crotch-deep pool water. I listened in as any girlfriend would, but I could only hear half of the conversation.

"Yello?" "Oh, hi Tittyfuck, What's up?" It was a call from Paizuri, the agent who arranged for rich clients to hire me as an escort.

"Are we at the resort in Nagato? We are." As Akiko spoke, I emerged from the pool. The sun felt warm on my glistening wet skin. It felt good to be alive. "Who the fuck is that?"Akiko looked over at the hotel building, then she said to me "He's a baseball player. Knows who you are. He says he sees you from his window." She said the name of an internationally famous Japanese baseball player.

"Oh my god," I breathed. He was perhaps the hottest stud ever to be born on Japanese soil, bar none. He had the height, the keen eyes, and the strong jawline that made me swoon. He was a shortstop and a team captain on a major league American team. He was about my age, give or take. I had read in the news that his latest five year contract had been worth some $80 million. That wasn't the whole story though.

"Can I meet him?" I asked her. She nodded and put her cellphone up to her ear again.

"Listen," Akiko said. "Do a thorough background check, it looks like she wants to meet him."

"A background check?!" I heard Paizuri's incredulous screech through the phone.

"Yeah. Find out what's going on with him, sure we know who he is. Huh, tonight? I guess -" She looked over at me, and I nodded vigorously to let Akiko know I was eager to take up the offer.

"Okay. Dinner date? Right."

I still nodded. Known as the dinner date deal, a four hour block really sucked up the entire evening. I made it clear that I was going to see him no matter how long the date or how short the notice. 

I didn't say anything, but it seemed Akiko had forgotten about the time he contacted me two years before. It was before Paizuri handled those arrangements. I had wanted to see him, but by the time I got his message, we were hundreds of miles away with more miles to go. On rare occasions, I wondered what might have been.

Normally I could tell her anything, but not this time. I didn't want her to feel jealous for no good reason, after all, wasn't he married? Still, keeping quiet about it made me feel a little guilty.

After the photo shoot, we went to the hotel gym and did our daily training session. We kept to stretching and yoga exercises, and that really helped me to focus and clear my mind. This baseball player was a married man, I was sure of it. I had to stop treating this as something terribly important, he had no place in my future. If I really liked him and he was single, I decided I would tell Akiko how I felt. It wasn't right to carry guilt around like a cross.

I noticed that when we went back to our hotel room, Akiko was in a down mood for some reason. We took turns in the shower. When I came out, I saw that she was relaxing on the bed, using her laptop and wearing headphones. I went to the kitchenette and made us both fruit smoothies.

We sipped our drinks in silence, and then Akiko told me to take a one-hour nap. When I woke, it would be time for me to get ready for my date.

I lay in bed next to Akiko and closed my eyes, but I could not sleep.

"Aki, is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, sweetie. Are you looking forward to tonight?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then get your sleep," she said, gently caressing my hair. I closed my eyes and she continued to softly caress my raven locks. I drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile the shortstop, whom I'll simply call Sato, made the payment arrangements through Paizuri, who no doubt notified Akiko when the funds cleared. I woke up when Paizuri called to relate the results of the background check. In the quiet of the room, I could clearly hear her words through Akiko's cellphone.

"He's squeaky clean, no arrests, no criminal history, no reports of domestic violence."

"But?"

"But his so-called marriage is in collapse, and it's shaping up to turn into a divorce battle unless he can get the marriage annulled."

"Details?"

"That's all I have for now."

"Okay, so why would he do something like this? It sounds stupid. We shouldn't get Hana-chan involved. We don't need the scandal attached to her name. Can't you give the money back?"

"Absolutely. Wait though, listen to what else I have to say."

"Spill it."

"Well, I think he's been carrying a torch for your girl for some time now." When I heard this, I was pretty sure I heard Paizuri correctly, but I didn't believe it. My heart started to race, but I stayed perfectly still on the bed.

"Really? How do you know?"

"I always dig when a client asks for someone by name. You see, he came to me through a referral, saying he wanted to see Hanako. Apparently they know each other."

"Oh, do they?" The way Akiko said those words, she remembered him and how I felt about him.

"At least somewhat. He tried to meet her about two years back, and she missed the call and was on a plane before they had a chance to meet. She told him she was so sorry to have missed the call, and all that."

"I remember that. She was pouting about missing a few calls from the usual rich dipshits, but Sato was the final straw. So?"

"Well, she really regretted missing this particular dipshit. They emailed a couple of times-"

"He got married-"

"-and he says the feelings are mutual."

"Mutual? He says Hana is borderline obsessed?"

"I don't think it's fair to say that, Aki-chan. Remember, the rest of the world thinks Hana is single and waiting for Mr. Right. Sato would be an amazing catch, so let's not call it off just yet. I think you should ask Hanako yourself, just in case she is looking forward to seeing him. She said she wanted to go. There is something more as well. He asked if it was okay.."

Akiko got up and paced the length of the curtained window, making it difficult to hear Paizuri's half of the conversation. I could only imagine the dark, jealous feelings churning in Akiko's heart. I wanted to reach out to her, but I had to hear more first.

"Yeah, that's true. You think he might be serious enough to do that? Wow. Why don't we just cancel? Not yet, she's taking her nap. Look, guys will say anything when breasts are involved. This just doesn't pass the smell test," Akiko said. "What? Of course he thinks it could be true love. We know love is just a bullshit lie for kids. Oh. Uh huh. Yes. What? Fuck no, it just means he's got an ego the size of fucking China. Okay. Alright, I'll ask her when she wakes up."

"Aki," I said softly. "It's okay. I still want to go." I sat up slowly. "Tell her."

"She woke up," Akiko said. "Did you, uh, how long-"

"All of it," I said. "Enough, anyway. "Looks like it'll be a tricky situation."

"Shit yeah. Hey, Paizuri, looks like you were right. Got it, she'll be there."

Akiko helped me dress and do my makeup, and we talked very little, which meant she had something to say but didn't know how to broach the subject. I felt guilty about wanting him so bad but not telling Akiko.

"So, this guy, I hope he's not just playing with you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it seems like you have your hopes set on making something out of this-"

"Not so," I shook my head. "When did I say that?"

"I can tell," she said. "He's trying to divorce some cunt. He's toxic, but you still-"

"Exactly, he's toxic." I said. Akiko scored points for trashing Sato's gold-digging future ex-wife, and I forced a smile. "Still, we don't know the whole story between those two," I said, stalling for time as I searched for the right words.

"Uh huh."

"After four hours is up, I'm coming right back to this room," I said.

"Promise nothing. Find out for yourself, kiddo. As always, I only wish your dreams fulfilled."

"Provided they make sense."

"Isn't that my fucking line? Still, he is a major hottie, and he's going to turn up the charm, just keep that in mind."

"Charm is my specialty. I'll keep my cool."

"For fuck's sake-"

"Right, promise nothing."

"Alright, get out there and be a perfectly jizz-worthy sex doll."

"That's the plan. What about you?"

"Oh, I'll be fine. I might get one or two of those cabana boys up here to give me a massage. Who knows, I might get lucky."

"Um, I think the cabana boys are not the ones that do the massages."

"Like I said, cabana boys," she said. We laughed, what a kidder.

***

Some forms of flattery are generic, telling a man he's handsome or strong, any admirable trait will do. However, passionate love is the ultimate flattery for a lonely, married man. Although you can overdo it, an escort kind of has to come on strong in order for a man to let down his guard.

I want to be perfectly clear about my mindset in this evening. I was not going as myself. That would have meant I would show up as an anxious, want-to-be-long-lost love desperate to find out whether there was a real flame. That would have been a disaster. 

Instead, I was to play a make-believe role, and carefully draw him in until I could "confess" my unrequited love. If this sounds like a complex form of deceit fraught with the risk of exposure, I assure you it is anything but that. It's just easier and more pleasant for him to believe the lies and take his prize to bed in the end.

Of course, I'd rather they not recognize the lies, and so have developed a script that is really convincing. I keep this script in my laptop (no more scribbling in notebooks). I also always spend some time considering each client individually, I read over the lines and consider which ones I might use and how. Even some high-priced escorts don't bother with the mental games, but I don't see how they can afford not to try. If a common stripper can flatter one stranger after another, I could do much better. Besides, wealthy clients give great tips. One guy once gave me five million yen and said don't spend it all on clothes.

I dressed in a long, shoulderless emerald evening gown with a black chiffon wrap. Akiko did my hair up into a double braid and adorned my neck with a gold necklace. I needed a touch of makeup and some red lipstick, and I looked my very best.

I met the concierge in the lobby, who had instructions to notify me when my limo arrived. I didn't have to wait long. He gave me his arm and escorted me out of the front door.

I expected the limo would take me to the restaurant. Instead I found that Sato was seated right there inside. He grinned broadly, and for a moment I was star struck. I knew his face well, after all, he only did about a billion different product endorsements. I was struck by how long his limbs were: while in Japan I was used to being taller than most folks I came across. Then again, all the athletes I met were tall.

"Welcome, Miss Uchiya," he said, indicating the back seat. I moved there quickly. The back seat offered more stability, especially once the limo started heading around a bend.

"I am honored by your invitation," I said with the bow of my head. "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."

"Yoroshiku ne," he said. "Please, let's not be so formal. I'm afraid after living in the US for so many years, my language habits have grown more casual." Of course, there was no need for him to reciprocate.

"You are very well spoken, Sato-san," I said, removing my chiffon wrap. I smiled and watched him ogle my breasts as predicted. The gown really showed off some skin, even if it covered me from nipple to toe. I noticed a few catering trays strapped to a tiny limo table in the corner. "Is that our dinner? Where are we headed?"

"We're going somewhere with a view not far from here," he replied.

"Oh, is there something wrong with the view?" I wanted to ask while pointing at my cleavage, but I smiled pleasantly and nodded. After all, he was endeavoring to treat me as best he could. Both of us were on the road but in Sato's case, Japan was his homeland, but no longer his home. Speaking of which, given his circumstances, I had decided it was best if I did not mention his home, his lifestyle, or the rumors about his marriage.

"I regret that I did not get to see you the last time."

"You remember that?"

"Oh yes, Sato-san. You were a valuable player and invited me to see you when I was in L.A. I had a photo shoot to do in Utah, however, and we took a plane. Had we gone by car, I would have turned right around, believe me."

"My god, you do remember," he said. As if I could forget.

"Let's not worry about the past though." He shook his head. "You look amazing, have I mentioned that? I can't believe how beautiful you are in person."

The limo pulled up on a vista overlooking a rocky shoreline. Waves crashed at the base of cliffs all along the shore. We could see a bridge in the distance, and even the resort. A large tent had been erected at the site, the kind that might hold ten or fifteen campers. It was a nice touch considering we could have eaten comfortably in the limo. I wondered if there was a bed in the tent.

The inside of the tent had a cozy table and chairs, it was lit with warm white Christmas lights. The western side of the tent was entirely clear plastic, and through it we had an unobstructed view of the cliffs and the sunset, without the bother of the winds. We sat at the table and dined on a five course meal as the sun set.

"So, how did you end up as team captain on a US team? I heard that America has the greatest baseball legends."

"Oh, it does. A lot of them are my heroes. I'm lucky to be where I am, and I always strive to be worthy."

It was a short, humble answer. I wanted him to say more about his strengths and accomplishments.

"You became a team captain. So tell me, what does it take to be a worthy leader?"

I remember those were my exact words. When I said them, he stopped chewing and looked me dead in the face. He nodded and quickly finished chewing before he spoke.

"That is something I could talk about for a while."

"I'd love to hear what you have to say."

Then it began, he spoke on leadership for the rest of the dinner. He said it was about setting an example that is beyond reproach in everything, and working harder than everyone else who follows you. He gave examples of leaders who tried to do this, and complex theories that supported this approach. He explained a lot of it, and I was able to follow everything he was saying, but I only remember the big ideas now. His role model was an American football player named Brady. The only other thing that I can remember about his talk was how vital it was to act honorably, even when no one knows.

He said he did his best to live it, but he wasn't perfect by any stretch. Still, after going over some of his self-imposed morals, and explaining that none of it stemmed from religion, I really started to admire him. I could tell he read books about leadership on his spare time, and I could not get over how humble he was. Sure he was hot, but I half expected him to be some kind of conceited joker, not a philosopher-athlete.

I tried to remember that it was hypocritical for someone of his beliefs and trajectory to sleep with an escort, but I was too dazzled. Everyone made exceptions sometimes, and I was only grateful that he had called for me, twice. I started to daydream about the passion I would experience in his bed, or in the back of the limo. Heck, if he asked I would have knelt on the vinyl floor of the tent and blown him under this small dinner table. More than that, I was eager to get started. I thought he was making an exception to his code of honor for the sake of pleasure. I was eager to slake his lust and subdue this disciplined and motivated leader. How arrogant I was.

After the meal, I sipped my wine but did not finish the glass. He gradually finished his glass with his meal. That gesture, along with his overall demeanor, gave me a sense that somehow he was not intent on sex until a good deal later, his mind was elsewhere. I decided that I would speak of things I otherwise would not. I told myself it would help clear the air, but curiosity took a swing at conversation.

"Sato-san, I am having a wonderful time," I said, but I let my smile fade and cast my gaze into the corner.

He smiled winningly and raised his glass. "I'm having a terrific time. What's wrong?"

"In America," I said, switching to English, "There is a saying that there is an eight hundred pound gorilla in the house."

He took a deep breath.

"Er, yes, that sounds about right," he said, sticking with Japanese.

"Also, I do not wish to wrecking ball your house." I was struggling, so I switched back to Japanese. "I am ashamed, because when I heard you were here, I could not resist."

He nodded silently, and I continued.

"I'm very happy for you, that you have found so much success. You are a national hero, you're so handsome and rich. Any woman would be happy to be your wife, and girls must throw themselves at you just to be close to you."

"It has been an amazing journey," he nodded. "How about you?"

"Me? There are no eighty-million dollar contracts in the modeling world."

"Well, that's not so accurate. At one point Heidi Klum was making as much as I am if not more, but I'm not talking about money. Money isn't happiness, please understand. You have enough, you could be a lot worse off. Do you have a boyfriend, someone who is special?"

Akiko leaped into my mind's eye, looking up at me with her jealous eyes and distracting me. As a rule, I could not reveal anything about her to clients.

"Normally I don't like to discuss those matters," I said. "The answer to your question is hard to believe."

"Tell me plainly."

"I have no boyfriend, I am one hundred percent unattached."

"You are right, it is hard to believe. Your have so much allure, I can't even begin to find the words for it. It would be a waste, you need someone to have and to hold. Why no boyfriend at least?"

"In Japan, models lose much of their-"

"Then lie about it. Secretly, you could still have someone. J-Girls do that routinely."

"There's no point. I travel often, and how would he react to knowing that I went on a date with, well,  you? There's not a man in Japan that could come out on top against the great Sato in a comparison. You are an athlete, a role model, and for us ladies, a sex symbol. It would be wrong of me to love a man and make him jealous of other men, my clients." I could not stop thinking about Akiko. If any man would be jealous, maybe Akiko was burning with it. If so, I wondered what she was doing to pass the time. Binge drinking? I couldn't put that worry out of my head, and I knew I risked making a false step while I was distracted. I still wanted to ask what happened with his marriage, but I lost the opportunity. It was time to draw the discussion to a close.

"Not everyone gets jealous like that. You could find someone who is understanding, I'm sure," Sato reassured me.

"I appreciate your concern," I said, putting my napkin down. Although I had delivered some eloquent lines, the last one was great in a pinch. Sometimes it was time to move on, and the way I said it also let him know it was time to dispense with the dinner chat. He got the message.

"Hanako, thank you for joining me for dinner. The night is still young, if you would accompany me back to the hotel, I have something for you."

"I would love to." I smiled and wiggled my shoulders as relief recharged my libido. However, it was an ordeal returning to the hotel. We had to split up, and there was a lot of secrecy involved. Still, half an hour later, I was in his room. I walked around and looked at everything, waiting for him to arrive. It was a spacious suite with couches, a bar, a small outdoor private pool high up on a terrace overlooking the sea. The western horizon was growing dark. Inside, there was every amenity you could imagine. In a few minutes, he let himself into the room.




The J-Girl Model Ch. 03



"I really don't normally stay in rooms like this," he said, smiling sheepishly, "But I didn't want you to think I spared any expense with you."

"You don't have to worry about that, Sato-san."

"Just call me Sato, please," he said. "In case you forgot, you're more to me than just a pretty face. Also, a lady like you deserves to be showered with gifts, let this be the first one I give you." He handed me a small rectangular box. "This is for you," he said. "Go ahead and open it."

It was a beautiful diamond necklace with matching earrings in a Cartier box. I couldn't guess at the value, but it had to be a lot. Men like him cannot trifle with cheap baubles.

"Don't say anything, just put it on," he said. He got behind me and helped me remove my gold chain, which I slipped into my purse. Then he put the diamond necklace on me. It felt incredibly luxurious, and I looked at myself in the mirror with it on.

"So, you like it?"

I turned to him, looked at him once over, then threw myself into his arms.

"Sato-san, I need you to hold me." He was holding me, and he was strong. I felt like I was being held by a tree. His chest felt good against mine. "Hold me tighter," I whimpered.

He squeezed me a little tighter, and I felt my breasts crushing against his iron chest. The sweet vibes from his embrace went straight to my core. I could almost feel my pussy get soaking wet. I tilted my head up slightly. He kept looking straight ahead.

Normally at this point in an embrace, clients' hands began to roam, and if I lifted my head to his, they would lean in to kiss me. I had only performed the time-honored act of throwing myself at a man. Even fat girls could score with this technique.

"Hanako, I- it's um," he stammered, but I could feel it coming. Not that it affected my pay if he turned me down, but I had become so wrapped up in the make-believe that I believed it well enough myself. I had admired him from afar, this handsome baseball star. Had he not tried to contact me as well? I didn't care if he was married, I was wet for him, I wanted our bodies to be joined. I would not be satisfied until he was panting and spent in my loving arms.

"I think it's better if we didn't go any further. Now hey, don't cry. You're okay."

Not that I was a blubbering mess, but I shed a few tears. I was moved by his sense of noble righteousness, and I had wanted things to go differently. Still, it was the search for unrehearsed words that brought me to tears, as I plunged my real self right into the emotion of the moment. I had no role to play, I was there on my own, and I just wanted to know why. That way, I could talk him out of it.

For the time being, he seemed willing to keep holding me, and I rested my head on his shoulder and waited for the right words to come. I did not sob, but hot tears ran down my face in rivulets.

"You are right, of course," I said, lifting my head. He relaxed his embrace and I leaned back to meet his gaze. I took off the necklace. "Still, I can't accept this gift." I took a moment to assert myself. "You should know that I have feelings for you, and you've played a cruel game with my emotions."

"It's yours, it was freely given and I ask you to please keep it, because I want you to think of me now, and in the coming months." he said, his arms still around me. "I do want to see you again."

"You do?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry about this now. I didn't expect this, I didn't mean to make you feel this way. I thought you would be glad. You can't stay here long, so take the night off. Go get a spa treatment, or room service. Whatever you like, and I'll pay for it too."

"I don't need your pity, Sato-san. Nor do I know why I would want to see you again. Before I do, I would need to know why you decided to spend the night not with your wife, or alone, but instead you took the trouble to be with me."

He took a deep breath. I didn't know quite what he would say, so I had to wait and let him say it, but I worried. I had never said anything like that to a client.

"I saw you, and I recognized you, I thought it was like fate. I had to find a way to reach you, but without running out there in public. I thought I did the right thing contacting Paizuri, but it looks like it was I who made the mistake."

I was afraid he was thinking about his legal battle related to divorce. Nothing could more quickly ruin the mood, and I swung into action trying to reassure him so that I could close the topic. 

"You called me. We went on a date, and here we are. This right here is the affair." My verbal torpedoes were aimed at the very idea that spending a romantic evening with a woman could fall short of cheating. It didn't matter whether he touched me or not, I smoldered for him.

"I meant to say, I run the risk of further upsetting you with what I have to say, what I need to tell you now. This has nothing to do with my soon-to-be ex-wife."

"Oh." I wondered where my golden tongue had gone. My foot was in my mouth.

"I just believe in taking it slow, for one thing. I can afford to fly you out to New York from time to time. Hopefully the next time, I will be divorced."

"Okay, but can we just, you know," I squeezed his torso against mine. It was like hugging a horse.

"As a matter of principle, no." I felt the tightness of his embrace lessen.

"Wait! Hold me, and tell me that you mean yes. We can keep it a secret, no one will know. Don't you trust your chauffeur?"

"Of course. He and I go way back."

"No one else knows, right?"

"Paizuri, and-"

"Confidentiality is one of her iron-clad rules, she never breaks rules."

"What about that blonde you were with at the pool, your photographer?"

"Oh, her? I just hired her uh-" I was in the middle of a casual lie, and realized I needed to walk it back. "She's actually a close friend of mine, my manager, my photographer. Where I go, she goes."

"Oh? Wow, that's cool," he said, and I felt so dumb trying to lie to this man.

"She's just a very good friend. Trust me, she is invested in keeping this liaison a secret. Do you trust me?"

"I do, it's just that-" I could feel his arms slowly coming down.

"Right." I stopped him short. "You do trust me. You should, you have nothing to worry about!" Outwardly, I smiled almost to the point of laughing, partly because I knew I had spun a very threadbare web of reassurances, and I wanted him to ease into that cradle. On the other hand, his embrace was fading, and without his enclosing arms I felt exposed, over-extended. There was something he wanted to say, but was holding back. I was afraid of what it might be.

Sometimes clients want to feel the thrill of conquest, even after having paid top price. It's still possible to give them that experience, it's just a matter of letting them know when the chase is done. I leaned in and kissed him on his lips. Then I withdrew and gazed into his eyes.

"Thank you, Hana-chan," he said. "I had a wonderful evening, and look forward to meeting again."

"Sato-san," I said, stepping back. "You would turn me away, on the principle of honor?"

"I must."

"No one else will know!"

"You will know." If I momentarily lost my patiences with him, those three words did a lot to soothe me. I stopped arguing.

"You, and I," He had something to say, but he was struggling.

"Tell me, tell me what you want to say." I saw him, thoughts flashing in his sad brown eyes. No words came out.

"Is honor going to cause you to say nothing?" I finally said. At those words, his eyes locked with mine.

"Ask me why my honor would do that? What do you suspect?"

"Um, because of your honor, you wouldn't say something to a woman that a married man should never say."

"I would try to keep to that, yes." He smiled, and it seemed to me he had gotten his message across.

"I see." I had nothing left. I looked into his eyes, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I was grateful that I used waterproof mascara, or my face by now would have been a mess.

"Then, until the next time we meet," I finally said.

"Yes! Hanako-san, I am so glad you took the time to come see me. We will meet again, I promise. Watch me on TV. When I am at bat - when I hit a home run, I will think of you and of the future."

"Don't make me wait. I can't believe you are doing this."

"I hope I have helped you to understand, Hanako. Please have patience."

He walked me to the door, looked outside to make sure the coast was clear, and then I was alone in the hallway. Patience, I thought as I stumbled along, crying. After I made it to the elevator lobby, I simply looked out of the window and waited for my emotions to level out. I didn't need him, Akiko's loving arms waited for me, and she was a great lover. So why did I feel like the time in my life when I had been dumped? How did this man make me feel this way, and how had my charms not worked?

I began to wonder if I had said the wrong things. Indeed I had, I had gone off script and lied to him for no reason. Even after he talked about how inspired he was to be honorable and truthful. Of course, he was great. No wonder I wanted him, the question was whether I was even worthy. By now, I was filled with doubt. Perhaps as he thought about how I had tried to lie to him, that he need not bother with a woman like me. Perhaps it was already over, my opportunity lost.

By now the reader must ask, why was I upset when I had Akiko? Weighing heavily on my thoughts was the way that Sato beckoned me into a life in which love was a real thing. I longed for the stability of mutual commitment the moment I tasted it, and that told me that it had to be a real need. How could Akiko not sense the same? Why was she still fantasizing about cabana boys, even right to my face? She was like Michiko, she wanted someone else. That was why coming back to Akiko was a consolation.

My feet led me to the door to our room. I almost dreaded going in. Would she want to know how it went? I didn't know what to say. I stood outside for a few moments, but then I saw some people coming down the hall. I swiped my access card and entered the room.

The lights were off, and I had to slide my card into the slot. Looking around, I realized that Akiko was not there. I breathed a sigh of relief and flopped down on the bed, evening gown and all. I didn't even notice the note on the table.

After a few minutes, I looked at the time. It was just past eight. Akiko could be out having a good time, I thought. Maybe she had found her cabana boys. No, she was not worried about me with Sato, just like she never cared about me being with another man. She was busy sorting out her own future. I couldn't hold that against her, she never promised me anything she had not already delivered.

I reached for my laptop and noticed it was not in its case. Looking around, I found it on the love seat. It was common for us to share laptops. We knew each others passwords and trusted each other with everything.

I wondered what might have made her need to use my laptop. I decided to see what she had been doing on my computer. Looking at my browser's history was easy enough. I saw a lot of links to YouTube, and the headers told the tale. She had been investigating old Japanese music, the tunes I may have grown up with as a kid, while she was in California growing up to Janet Jackson and Heart.

I clicked on one of the links, and a song loaded that I knew immediately. It was a live performance of "One Last Saturday" by Shogo Hamada, an old ballad I knew well. My whole mood changed as the swelling melody played by timeless violins joined the dated keyboard. Just the opening of the song had moved me to near tears a dozen times before. Now, as Hamada lifted his voice to sing the sad song, I thought of Akiko enjoying this tune while I was off with a man. There was no holding back. I sobbed like a child.

I already knew the whole song by heart. The singer appeals to a woman he loves. She has been seeing another man, but finding no joy.

"Forget all about him

There are tears on your youthful cheeks

A person who can dry your eyes

Is somewhere in this town

And he's waiting for you"

I let the whole song play out, imagining myself as the woman he was singing to. I realized Akiko had been using my laptop because she wanted to go through my iTunes library and find out what other songs I liked. This is one song I never mentioned to her. I had given the song a five star rating. "Love on a Hilltop" was another song on that album that I had given five stars. It had to do with a girl who went to a wealthy man's house but could not find happiness.

"Is she jealous?" I murmured, as I saw that this song was also in my browser's most recent history. "She is jealous!" I sat up in bed, my legs feeling hot under my dress. I kicked them over the side of the bed and stood up. Then I spotted the note. I hurried over to see what it said.

"Went to the Karaoke bar, 2F" she had scribbled. She probably expected to be back before I returned. Karaoke seemed like a perfectly nice way to blow off steam, but Akiko rarely - no, never just bounced like that. She was always working or sleeping or just chilling. I had my theory as to what had set her off, but I had to know, I had to get to her quickly.

I quickly changed out of my dress and grabbed some inconspicuous clothes, and fished my big round shades from out of my purse. The massive diamond chain got tangled in them, and I shook it off impatiently. I needed my shades. If I was going to linger among a crowd of my countrymen, I had best stay as inconspicuous as my tall frame would allow. I snapped on a bra, a shirt and a cardigan, and some skinny jeans, and I hurried to the elevator.

I wondered if she had rehearsed this song for karaoke. It seemed ridiculous, as it was very much a man's song. My questions were soon answered.

The Karaoke bar had opened a stage and it was apparently her turn to perform. She was just singing "Fever." The crowd was just eating up the way those English words rolled off her tongue with perfection. They may not have understood all the words, but the youths in the crowd, including a few drunk girls, cheered as she struck a final pose at the end of the song. She was wearing a dark blue evening gown and a crimson feather boa. I had no idea where she had gotten the latter, but she looked fabulous.

There was generous applause. She saw me and winked, and turned toward the little set of stairs at the end of the stage.

"More! One more!" I heard someone say. A few men started chanting for more. I looked and blinked. Bless me, the chanting men were a gaggle of young, cute cabana boys. I started grinning and shook my head in disbelief. Akiko was such a badass, how could anyone replace her? She had done these numbers back in the day when she sang at a drag club, songs she had practiced along with some very flirty dance moves. Years later, she had not lost her touch.

"Okay, okay," she said into the microphone. "See if they have this last one. My last song for the night, everyone. This is one of my favorites." She looked out over the crowd, some of whom took their seats. Some called out the names of songs.

"It's called Crazy Little Thing Called Love, by Queen," she said, ignoring the other suggestions. It was a short ditty, but that was for the best. A few of the dance moves weren't particularly feminine, but she executed them with great timing. Seeing her girly figure dancing like a man while she sang had the cabana boys howling with approval.

When she tried to exit the stage, the crowd went nuts demanding just one more encore. I folded my arms across my chest and waited. There was no slipping away after a number like that. She managed to catch sight of me over the crowd and I gestured for her to get back up on stage. Then I had an idea.

As she sang the next song, I tapped a search term into my phone, and made my way over to the cabana boys.

"Hey guys, is she great or what?" They all agreed. "Hey, hey listen you guys. You gotta get her attention, and I have an idea. When she gets off stage, you sing this song. I bet you she will love it." 

They looked at me a couple of times, and I had wrested their attention from Akiko. For once, I was glad to be a girl with presence. I held up the phone and played the song with a video, to show them what I meant. One of them headed over to the karaoke machine to book the next song. I watched him argue with the bartender, but he was desperately insistent, and the bartender seemed to agree to it.

Akiko's song ended. As she left the stage, grateful admirers whistled and clapped.

Akiko barely left the stage when she found herself all but surrounded by busboys, all of them locking arms in a semicircle. On stage, three cabana boys prepared to sing.

"Yu nebwa kroaz yoa aizu enny mo wan ai kees yoa rips," they sang, relying solely on the Japanese pronunciation on the screen. They could not hold the tune for anything and their words were impossible to understand, and there was no accompaniment. In short, it was perfect.

Even Akiko did not know what they were doing, but she looked at me, and looked around, and could not stop smiling at the ridiculousness of the cabana boys.

"Yoo torai en hadu na too sho et baby," and on the word baby, all the bus boys joined in, "But baby, baby ai no et." The expression on Akiko's face was priceless when she found herself in the Japanese version of that scene from Top Gun in the officer club.

"Are you fucking serious?" she asked, but the men drowned her out with the chorus. Most of the crowd began to join in. A middle-aged westerner made his way to the stage and grabbed the microphone.

"Baby baby, I get down on my knees for you," he sang, with the crowd singing accompaniment. They didn't know the lyrics, but they sure knew the song. "If you would only love me like you used to do." The gentleman was pouring his heart out, and there was no shame in doing justice to a classic when the crowd is in the mood. Akiko had inspired them, all of them.

She just stood there smiling at everyone and wrapped that feather boa tight around her shoulders. She locked onto my gaze and gave me an even wider half grin, but I stayed in the background, and she looked away to avoid drawing attention to me.

When next she looked to me, I signaled to her that I would wait for her at our room, and she caught up to me while I waited at the elevator. We kissed passionately once the doors closed, we could hardly wait. She tasted like amaretto and cherry lip gloss. All too soon, the doors were about to open.

"Not ready for love, eh?" I said as we strode to our room.

"That's not what I meant. Maybe I am. You and Sato though, I mean - hey, isn't it early?"

I just smiled reassuringly.

"What of your cabana boys?" I teased. "They looked about ready to tear your dress off."

"About that. I told them my room number so I need about an hour and a half to get railroaded. You can wait in the hallway."

"You did not."

"Okay, you got me. I barely got out of there though, it was fucking close. Oh, it was grand fun, sweet tits. Reminded me of my stage days."

As you can imagine, we made passionate love that night. I didn't ask for commitment, and she didn't offer. She asked me again about Sato. I simply told her that all I wanted was already in my arms, and if it stayed that way forever, it would be perfect.

*****

Thank you for reading this, the last in a three part series. I still want to describe what happens between Hanako and Sato. Also, I still would like to tell the story of Akiko's origins and experiences. There is room for a smutty spin-off or three. Please let me know in the comments what you think.



The J-Girl Model



"Miss Uchiya, that is a fabulous blouse. Would you mind undoing another button or two?"

All this time I had been wearing the tight white blouse I had custom fitted to my chest. It seemed tighter than before, and I had already undone the top three buttons out of necessity.

"It's fitted, it might not look right if I open it up any more."

"Well then, best if you just take it off," Akiko replied.

"Excuse me?"

Akiko sighed impatiently. Once again, I could not resist the urge to obey Akiko's will. I unbuttoned my white blouse and wriggled out of it.

Akiko and the other girl stared at me, most likely because my bulging breasts could barely be contained, my bra looked puny under their roundness.

"Are those real?" she asked, trying to look as cool and unimpressed as possible.

I nodded.

Akiko stepped forward and actually prodded my bra with her fingertips in search of padding. I was shocked that she would touch me in such a way but chose to say nothing as she poked and rummaged around, pushing the sides and underneath. Akiko's touch made me feel vulnerable and aroused, and my large nipples hardened against the fabric of my bra. At the same time, I marveled at the boldness of the young lady. It took an effort for me not to be alarmed, but I sucked in a breath as her fingers rammed my erect nipple.

"They're totally natural," I said in a bid to end the awkward ordeal.

Akiko flashed a smile at me, and my heart fluttered for a second. I felt certain she noticed my nervous focus on her and suspected my attraction, but I derailed her suspicions.

"Are they okay?" I asked, looking down to my breasts, "or do you prefer a different type of model?" I glanced at the other candidate, who had a rack that easily would fill a B cup.

"I would say both of you have breasts with broad appeal, and it comes down to preference on size," she said with tact. "Yours are truly unusual, and if your audience can be convinced that they are natural, it could win you a more loyal fan base. With your cute face," she said, gently lifting my chin, "That's gonna be dynamite. I can't wait to put you out on the scene."

After her touching and poking, I felt hot and flushed. My breasts were practically spilling out of my heavy duty bra. The nerve of that woman, touching me like I was a head of cattle, I thought as I re-adjusted my straps.

"What size is that bra?" Akiko asked.

"90 cm, E cup," I managed, still flustered.

"You need to wear F in the future," she stated. "Did you bring something else you could change into?" Akiko asked. "Hopefully something that fits?"

I did have one bikini in my purse. Part of me was terrified of wearing it in front of a camera, but I didn't want to disappoint Akiko.

"I-I'll put it on," I said, meekly, and went behind the partition while the other girl stepped forward to pose in her bikini.

I came back in with strap lines still fading from my bra. I wanted to watch the other girl's posing technique, but I was shocked to find her down on the ground, crouching, spreading her legs, and assuming other lewd poses. Knowing that the same would be expected of me, I thought I should run. Akiko was not taking photos, however. I convinced myself to stay, reasoning that if I wimped out now, I would default.

Akiko eventually turned her attention to me, and the look on her face said I was a one in a million girl.

"Both of you look hot," she said. She addressed me and had me stand next to the other girl. "Hmm, I thought you would look hot together, but my, there is a height difference."

"Should I put on my heels?" the girl asked.

"Hmm, let's try something else."

Akiko had us pose on the ground, me on my hands and knees, and her on her elbows and belly. I realized why my hands and knees was such a good pose, as it showed off my cleavage like no other pose. Also, I can tell when a girl envies my breasts, and it was written all over the other girl's face. It was a comforting thought, and I confess that my feeling of confidence and satisfaction only grew as I heard Akiko assure the other girl that she was beautiful and worthwhile.

The audition went on from there with poses of us holding hands, sitting next to each other laughing, hugging one another from behind, and other contrived scenes. Only rarely did Akiko snap a picture.

Although I thought being close to the girl would have been arousing, I didn't think she felt any desire for me, and despite all of the touching we did, my previous arousal was gone like a distant memory – gone, that is, until Akiko had the girl kiss me on the cheek. The young aspiring model kissed me without hesitation and held it there for the camera.

It was the holding there, her warm breath on my cheek and neck, that made me feel hot. It reminded me of Michiko just a little bit, and suddenly my body was crying for more, begging to return the kiss. After two years of being single, I was lonely for love.

In the next pose, I kissed her cheek. I could feel my nipples hardening again, the pale flesh of my breasts flushing pink. Akiko asked us to kiss on the lips, and I almost did, but then the other girl looked at Akiko and gasped. I followed her gaze, and immediately saw what had shocked her.

Akiko, although she looked and sounded all woman, had a penis. She had become aroused, and her skirt was being lifted by her erection. I could see her cock and even her balls, which were massive and supported by a tiny baby blue sling.

The other girl stood apart from me. "I'm sorry," she blurted. "I can't stay here any longer." She reached for her clothes, began to dress, and lowered her voice. "What does kissing a girl have to do with auditioning, anyway?" she asked rhetorically, but that was clearly just a cover for what really set her off.

The girl hastily dressed, and Akiko didn't offer a single word of protest. I kept my mouth shut while my rival fled. I remained rooted in place, stunned over what I had seen.

We both waited for the frantic girl to dress and leave. Akiko shut the door behind her and spoke.

"Now we know that bitch wasn't ready."

At the time, I was not ready to condemn the other girl's reaction, nor was I going to disagree with Akiko, but I had to say something.

"Why did you want us to kiss?" I challenged.

"That was something I wanted to see if you were willing to do."

"She was going to," I said in the girl's defense.

Akiko rolled her eyes at me and looked away. I deserved it, after all I was ignoring the real issue.

"If I'm going to be her photographer, she can't be scared by this," Akiko said, pointing to her crotch. "That was also a test. If you can't tolerate it, there's the door."

"I'm okay with it, but, but," I stammered. I wanted to ask her if she had an operation. How many operations? How did she have a penis, but the rest of her was so womanly?

"Why didn't you tell us from the beginning?"

"Tell you? Who goes around telling people about what is between their legs?"

"Normally it is obvious."

"Normally it's private. I don't think people should go around asking for recognition of their privates and what they do with them. In fact, they can just shut up about love altogether. That's just me though." She shrugged, I struggled to take it all in. "Now that we've cleared the air, let me tell you something, sweet tits." I blinked at the coarseness she displayed. "You passed the audition. You haven't ever modeled before, that much I can tell. I don't blame you. You could make fifteen or maybe thirty man yen posing on the cover of a pulp magazine. Is three month's rent worth your private identity? You don't want to be used and then thrown away, do you?"

I shook my head.

"Now, let me tell you what I'll do for you. I'll be your manager. That's twenty percent off the top. Just twenty percent. We'll do photo shoots in different locations, Hawaii, Mexico, Tokyo--"

"California?"

"I practically grew up in California. We'll definitely shoot there. Listen, you are going to be a superstar, and we're going long term. I'm going to be devoted to your modeling career, I can promise you that. My talent is finding the very best looks and poses. You already know how to work your expressions. We are going to make some waves together."

"Make waves?" I was excited by the prospect of becoming famous.

"It takes a good photographer and a good model working together and trusting each other. That's how you make some stellar photos. If you can do it consistently, it's power. Say it with me."

"Power? How?"

"This isn't porn, but it is going to involve showing skin, okay? Why show skin? To get dicks hard. Let's face it, there's a lot of hard core porn out there and we're not offering that, but we still have to compete with it because we have the same goal: Getting paying customers by the thousands means getting millions of dicks hard and ready to spew. Getting a million dicks hard, that's some power. Am I right?"

"A lot is found on the internet for free."

"That's why I need you. You're the special ingredient, the girl next door except three or four cup sizes bigger." She spoke quickly, excited and jiggling with enthusiasm. "Besides, you should worry about the possibilities open to you, not the sorry exhibitionist hags out there. You're not competing with them, you're too good for them. Think about all those AKB48 fans who buy ten CD's or more just to vote more for their favorite?"

"Oh my, otaku," I murmured, as my heart sank like a rock. This was a bad idea after all.

"It's the same principle, but you won't be meeting them other than maybe comic conventions or something. No handshaking."

We were discussing details, and I realized I had not even glimpsed a contract. Hadn't Akiko said twenty percent? Akiko, the pretty girl with the cock. I realized I didn't care about the details. Akiko intrigued me.

"When do we start?" I asked.

"How soon can you pack?"

We discussed a few more items, and I began to get dressed, but Akiko stopped me.

"Hey, thanks for giving me a chance to work with you. What a day, I'm so happy to have met you. You're so beautiful. I'm just going to ask this once, it may sound a little forward of me, but, if by any chance you wanna do it, I'd--"

There was no mistaking it, by "do it" she meant "fuck." My stunned look put her in damage control mode faster than I could say yes please.

"What?" I asked flatly.

"Nevermind, I'm sorry."

In all my days working the booth, no one had ever been so incredibly crude, I was caught flat-footed. I wanted to drop my bags and drop my panties, but not if it meant Akiko would think me a slut from day one. She was already backtracking and I found myself going along with whatever she said at the moment.

"It's okay, just a little misunderstanding," I tried to say. "Maybe some in this industry have casual sex with models. Still, you're my boss, and in my background it would have been an inappropriate relationship," is what I meant to say, but I probably sounded much less coherent.

Akiko took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"Yes, you are right," she said, and I had never heard her speak in such a respectful manner. "Again, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

***

That night I started a diary. I didn't write much because I didn't have time. I left out everything about my new manager. All I wrote was that I was a decent girl, I didn't want to whore myself out to the camera lens. I hoped I didn't lose my sense of what was proper and what was callow and amoral. Yet I was about to walk that line.

I didn't even know how to tell my mom, I came up with a cover story that I was visiting a friend in a town a few hours away. I called up a friend to arrange for part time workers to cover my shifts at my booth. I packed only the essentials. I left my mother's sewing machine, but I suspected it wouldn't be long before I would buy my own.

Then my modeling career abruptly began. Akiko took me to one photo shoot after another. She had me sign so many papers I couldn't see straight. (At first I read them all carefully) She was the boss and told me where we were going and what I was doing.

Honestly it was a lot easier for me to stop thinking about what was ladylike or not. When posing for the camera, I typically wore short shorts and a tanktop. Such was hardly scandalous, right?

Akiko explained to me that in order to have a career with longevity, I had to start out modestly, rather than go straight for the maximum skin and the lewdest poses. She had it all planned out, I would be posing well into my thirties if the ravages of time didn't cut my modeling career short.

When Akiko shot me, she often praised me, but I could also see when she was hard, and that was its own form of praise. She had a decent sized cock, although for shoots, she always wore enough to keep it concealed – typically some baggy cargo shorts.

Akiko always found amazing places to do shoots, such as hidden private beaches, swimming pools, Shinto shrines, and traditional Japanese homes with tatami floors, shoji doors, and all the rest. Visiting these new places was fun for the both of us, like going on a never ending series of field trips. We began to bond over ramen dinners and the like.

During photo shoots, I worked hard to make the best expressions. Akiko gave me constant verbal feedback. One time, however, I just began daydreaming about making love to Akiko.

"That's it, that look is so seductive. Keep doing it," Akiko suddenly said.

I fantasized about Akiko some more, about the many ways I would please her if she were mine.

"That's it, that's perfect," Akiko said, "Hold that expression. Wow, that's a good smile actually. Hold that one too."

Little did she know that I was imagining ways to make her orgasm. Michiko had taught me a lot, and I was no country bumpkin when it came to what I was willing to do. The look that came over my face when I thought about it made Akiko very excited. From then on, I fantasized about Akiko during every photo shoot.

As time passed, I kept a commentary in my diary that crystallized my feelings about Akiko, as I harbored a secret crush on her.

The memories of happy times with Michiko have all but faded, replaced by my joyful days with Akiko. Akiko Mihara, I roll her name off my lips at night when I have nothing to hug to my chest but a pillow. Akiko Mihara, whose pretty lips I long to kiss. Akiko Mihara, who can satisfy my needs in so many ways.

"Maybe tonight I'll get up the courage to ask her about it," I often think. "I'll simply book one room at the hotel, and tell her it's to save money." If there's one thing I wish she'd do, it is just take the initiative again, and ask me sweetly for my love and affection. I have so much saved up inside me. If she would just pull me into her arms, I would kiss her with such passion that I might explode.

Now I realize she has revealed her feelings to me, because she is always getting hard during photo shoots. Maybe it's my turn to reciprocate somehow, but how?

Today I asked her if it's okay to change in front of her, to save time. She said not to worry, she'll just turn away, but my fantasy is that when I am naked, I capture her in a spell of lust, and by unspoken accord we touch as lovers, releasing the floodgates of our passion.

I never did pressure her to stay in the same room as me to "save money." Japanese hotels usually charge for double occupancy anyway, so it was almost the same price to get two rooms.

One day, I reserved a rather fancy suite for myself, at a particularly posh hotel, while booking the usual budget accommodation for her. Naturally, when I told her about the jacuzzi, she invited herself over.

"I bought us a bottle of champagne, to celebrate," came one of her texts. "Wanna show me that room of yours?"

"Sure. What's to celebrate?"

It turned out I was featured in a big way on a prominent J-Model website. They linked to my book on Amazon, and sales on it were up. Social media was also getting a shot in the arm from the publicity, and I had received some fan mail.

"Ugh, I don't really want to read a bunch of fan mail." I texted.

"I've got one letter I want you to answer. You have to answer it."

"Answer fan mail? That's not in any contract," I joked, but I was half serious too.

"Your fan sent money. So, see you around six?"

I opened the door at Akiko's signature knock. She strutted into the room holding an envelope and a bottle of champagne, wearing a skimpy vest and a black skirt. I kept looking down at it for signs of an erection.

First, she handed me the letter and I pulled out the check. The fan had sent fifty man yen or about five thousand dollars. Thrilled does not begin to describe our elation, and we hugged excitedly. Then I slid the check into the side pocket of my travel suitcase.

"Check it out," Akiko said, holding up the bottle she brought. "It's Cristal. Four man yen per bottle down at the hotel lobby."

"Oh my god!' I gasped. "You bought that for us?! I mean, thank you!"

"Don't mention it." Akiko said with her usual half-grin. "We're rollin' big tonight."

"Still, I wouldn't want to waste a drop. Why does it cost so much?"

"Oh, I suppose it's because American celebrities speak highly of it, and the materials used to make it. It takes longer to make Cristal than your typical van ordinaire. Shall we?"

Presently we made our way to the jacuzzi. I had already prepared the water and some soothing background music. By this time, I had already decided that I was destined to be Akiko's lover. We were hopelessly attracted to one another, and I knew she could tell how I felt. I could hardly hide it.

Of course, I still had my questions about her background. She was a mystery, to be sure. Also, she was my manager and photographer. If things went sour, it would be tough. We'd have to go our separate ways. I dreaded the prospect of working with another photographer, in fact I thought I would rather go back to being a sales girl.

Akiko shed her vest and skirt, under which was a satiny pink bikini top and a colorful wrap for her hips, knotted on one side. I couldn't help but notice her well-defined abs. She was in great shape.

I took her cue and stripped down to my bikini, one that I had custom-tailored. We both eased our bodies into the tub.

"So, we've been working together for some time now," Akiko said. "I feel I ought to get to know you better."

I nodded.

"So, I have an idea. It's a game where we take turns asking personal questions."

"Hmm, okay." I laughed nervously and stepped into the jacuzzi.

"Good." Akiko filled the champagne flutes.

"Kanpai," she said, offering her glass in toast. I clinked my crystal with hers, and we sipped the sweet bubbly. 

"Here are the rules. You can ask any question about anything. Then, I get to ask the same of you. If the question doesn't apply the other way around or the answer is already known to both, then the initiative is passed to the next person, who then chooses what question they want to ask."

"Hmm. If I decline to answer, I have to take a drink?"

"Of Cristal?! In your dreams, sweet tits. If you don't answer, you lose, game over, and I'll be pissed. I'm going to ask personal questions, and share a bit of myself in the process, get it? I expect you to do the same. Give and take."

The way she described it, I couldn't wait to begin.

"Your turn first," she said, locking her gaze with mine.

Now, I had a dozen questions to ask and the problem was, the only one I wanted to ask was if she wanted to make love to me. Still, it seemed wrong to skip past all the other personal questions. So, after an uncomfortable delay, I asked the first question that popped into my head.

"What is your favorite movie?"

So okay, my first question was a little bland, but I didn't want to give up my choice of questions until I had at least warmed up a little.




The J-Girl Model



"Hmm, oh boy," Akiko said, rolling her eyes. "That's too personal. Wait a second, okay, maybe one of my top movies, yes, it would have to be Top Gun."

"Mine is Gone with the Wind."

"Kind of old fashioned, eh?"

"Yes," I freely admitted. "Always have been."

"It's your question again," Akiko prompted.

"Mhmm, I know. Favorite food?" I quipped, my mind feeling sluggish. One sip of champagne and I felt like my brain was trying to run in knee deep water.

"Sliced peaches," Akiko said. "But you probably knew that." I did. Akiko was a fruit freak, everything was juices and fruit shakes, loaded down with berry syrup.

"My favorite is cream puffs."

"I'm not accepting that answer. 'Cream puff' is a dessert. You said favorite food."

"Sliced peaches is a dessert!" I shot back. Akiko just smiled. "Okay," I surrendered, as always. "Sushi, mm, oh and spring rolls with that spicy sweet thai dipping sauce. I just love that."

"Next question," Akiko prompted.

I kept thinking about her cock, but if I asked about that, it would be Juno's turn. I looked around for something to buy me some time, and saw the glass in my hand.

"Favorite drink?"

"Sex on the beach."

"Mm. This Cristal, I'd have to say it's my favorite." I took a sip, and before I knew it I had downed the remainder of the glass.

"Still your turn." She sounded just a touch impatient.

"Favorite music?"

"Koda Kumi," she replied without hesitation.

"Huh? But she – do you think she's hot?"

"Mainly because I used to work for her," Akiko teased. "So, what's your favorite music?"

"Yuzu. Actually no, I like Nagabuchi way better."

"Tell me more about working for Koda Kumi," I said. "You were her photographer?"

"Well, let's see, how should I answer this? Officially I was her personal assistant and makeup artist. At the end of a work day, she would usually have me come up to her hotel room to party, and then we'd sleep together."

"What kind of sleep together?"

"She was a nymphomaniac, and I have stamina. We usually spent a few hours fucking."

I thought I might want more details, but I actually found myself feeling horribly jealous.

"It's my turn now. My question for you is, do you find women sexually attractive?"

I blushed hard.

"We don't actually need to wear swimsuits," she muttered, undoing her bikini top. She set it on the side, and I watched as she moved her arms and legs under the churning water. She deposited her wrap on the rim of the tub, then turned to me again. "Well?"

"Would it surprise you if I said yes?"

"Really?"

"Yes," I confessed. "That is a secret though."

"Like I said, all of this is a secret. It's all strictly in confidence. Don't go around telling people I love Top Gun."

I giggled.

"Now then, how do you feel about men?"

"Wait, you didn't answer the question. In fact, I already know the answer. In that case, the question does not apply, and it's my turn!"

"Oh darn it," Akiko said, grinning sheepishly. "I gave away my turn already? Do me a favor, Hanako, and try to keep it interesting."

"Okay." I paused. "Ever had sex with a man?" I boldly asked. I undid the back string of my bikini top and fished it out of the frothing bath waters.

"Yup. You?"

"Nope." I tried to keep a stony expression, but as I watched Akiko's eyes bug out, I cracked a big grin and burst out laughing.

"What? Are you just pulling my leg?" she asked, chuckling.

"Just the look on your face," I said, gasping with mirth. "Really though."

"Never not once? I see," Akiko said. "So you don't like cock. Women only?"

"If that's the conclusion you want to draw," I replied, still beaming. "Not your turn though."

"Come on! I have to know. Time out! Come on, tell me. Please."

"No time out. Why do you have to know so bad?" I teased. "Seriously, that's my question. Answer it, and it will be your turn."

Akiko's brow furrowed.

"The truth is," Akiko said, "I want to know, because if you don't like cock, that would mean we would never get to, you know, fuck."

Call me old fashioned, but as a woman I need someone to sweep me off my feet. Akiko's words always fell short somehow. So why was I taking off my bikini bottoms underwater, and why was I so hot all of a sudden? I felt like a dam that was about to burst. If I didn't open up the sluice gates, I would just fall apart. I was through hiding my feelings.

"All this time you have been wanting to fuck." It came out of my mouth as a statement, because I knew it was Akiko's turn to ask the question.

"Yep. I shoulda realized back then that you weren't into sausages. God I'm so stupid!" Akiko cast her gaze to one side.

I chose this moment to place my wet bikini bottoms on the rim of the jacuzzi. Then I calmly gazed at Akiko. She had cast her gaze down and away, and didn't notice. I decided it was time to grab her attention.

"My this bath is still so hot," I said, emerging from the tub to sit on the edge. I kept my thighs together tightly, but my pink melons were on full display, nipples hard and taut. "You know Akiko, I thought the thing that came between us was our professional relationship. You're still the boss."

"Oh, there's that too," Akiko murmured, openly staring. She wrenched her eyes away from my rack to refill her glass.

"It's your turn to ask a question," I supplied, holding out my empty glass for more Cristal. I was trying to hold it in, but I let burst a giggle.

The dyed blonde was getting red-faced as she poured more of the expensive champagne into my glass. It seemed she still hadn't figured out how I felt.

"You know Akiko, I really like you. We're friends, good friends, aren't we?"

Akiko nodded.

"So you don't have to look away when I'm like this. You see me at the photo shoots, you can see me like this now. I'm totally comfortable with you."

She nodded, and gazed at me, drinking in my curves, but there remained a sullen look on her face, as though she had just lost something dear.

I took a gulp of the cool liquid, then steadily upended the glass over my cleavage. I watched Akiko's expression go wide-eyed. The champagne ran down my belly and some of it formed a frothy white pool between my closed thighs.

"Hey, come on, what was that?"

"I wouldn't want you to waste a drop, Akiko-san." What I meant was, let's not waste any more time.

Realization came over her face in a second, surprise was mixed with glee. She waded to me on her knees and I drew her in to my embrace. She licked the path of the champagne with serpentine tongue strokes, then she sucked on my erect pink nipples. The electricity that passed through them reminded me of the first time, and I remembered that it had been so very long since the last time. I tousled her blonde hair and cooed.

She ran her hands along my thighs, and fondled my pale melons while she continued to lick and suck my pink nubs. The pleasure and excitement were intense, and having that beautiful creature finally touching my sensitive body was sheer bliss.

Up to this point, her touches had been light, but now she increased the pressure, slurping one of my nipples into her warm mouth and sucking hard. I moaned my approval, and she responded by thrumming her tongue against my trapped nipple. She switched to my other nipple, then back. It felt so good, I thought I would soon cum, and it took a conscious effort not to spread my legs and touch myself.

She licked her way down my abdomen and drank the foamy champagne trapped in my lap. Only then did I spread my legs for her.

She kissed both sides of my champagne-coated inner thighs. Her tongue flicked against my folds, and I gasped. She probed my slit with her tongue, and I began to moan. I could hardly catch my breath. When she licked my clit, I thought I died with pleasure. My body tightened up and I clamped my thighs around her head. Ecstasy filled my core, and spread through my body like a wave.

I arched my back and ran my fingers through her hair. Akiko's skilled tongue sent me into orbit again and again. I could hardly sit on the generously wide ledge on the edge of the jacuzzi. I placed my palms flat on the surface behind me and leaned back. My body quivered and my breasts jiggled as she used her tongue to bring me to multiple orgasms.

"Oh, so good," I panted as she finally emerged from between my thighs. She straightened up.

"So, how about me?" Akiko asked, her erection poking out from the churning waters.

I couldn't wait to start riding Akiko's dick. I wanted to see it properly first though, so I had her sit on the edge of the bath while I knelt in front of her to get a better look. She had a hairless crotch and a fat erection, about the size of my favorite strap on, which would be just above average, and her testicles were plump, pale, and hairless. I stroked it lightly, every moment I spent gazing at it my insides got hotter and wetter.

"There doesn't appear to be any scars," I said, looking around and around.

"There wasn't any surgery. It's all natural."

"Mmm, that's amazing." I thought it bizarre in the extreme, but anything is possible in this world of seven billion people. Questioning it further could ruin the mood, so I got over my remaining questions and just licked the tip. After a few licks, I thought I noticed the shaft grow slightly thicker and longer. Overcome with lust, I opened my mouth to suck on it.

"Oh yeah, suck it good. Just warning you though, once I get going, I kind of take a few orgasms to make it to completion."

"You can cum more than once?"

"Uh-huh," Akiko nodded. "Always do."

Akiko's straight, thick dick looked mouth-watering. As she spoke, I pressed it into the back of my mouth. Her warm, rigid cock felt like a perfect fit. I began bobbing on it, using one hand on the base of the shaft. My breasts splashed in the surface of the water as I sucked that perfect, beautiful cock.

I had fantasized about fellatio many times with Michiko. Somehow the idea of that powerful, engorged phallus pressed into my mouth was a turn on for me. It gave me power, the power to pleasure it, to satisfy it, to overwhelm it and drain its owner of a load of cum. Michiko and I had practiced on plastic sex toys and we knew our limits. Still, with her it had always been a matter of play and pretend. With a real dick, I found myself so turned on and so eager that I just had to try to take Akiko's cock down my throat. Before my lips could touch her root, my gag reflex forced me to withdraw.

"Oh my, you're a giving lover," Akiko said as I pulled off suddenly. "It's okay though, take it easy."

I swallowed and shook my head no as I recovered.

"Not like that," I said.

"What's wrong?" Akiko asked.

"Tell me to keep going, and talk dirty."

"But--"

"That's how I like it," I insisted. Then I caught myself for a moment, as I realized that she could have begun to suspect that I was living out past encounters with her.

"This is your first time sucking cock, right?" she said. Yes, she was wondering about my past.

I nodded. "I like dirty talk and pushing it hard," I explained, again with no mention of Michiko.

"Well, so do I," Akiko said, reluctantly. She could never have suspected the same of me.

"Akiko, I've wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you. Just do what feels right." Then something came over me, a naughty impulse to push my breasts together and up in a wanton display of cleavage. I looked up at Akiko, and found her staring at my wet chest.

"Do you like them?"

"Like them? They are amazing, perhaps the finest breasts in all the world. They are a major turn on."

I knew she liked my breasts, but a compliment sometimes goes a long way with me. This was one of those times. I leaned forward, and slid my melons around Akiko's erection. I pushed my breasts up and down along her shaft, and bent forward so that I could lick the tip of her cock. After a few strokes, Akiko was moaning and I tasted her juicy sweet pre cum oozing from her tip.

"Oh, it's like I've died and gone to heaven," Akiko sighed.

"Mhmm," I said. "Treat me right and you can fuck my breasts any day of the week. Give me a pearl necklace, or cum wherever you want on me." I found myself once again falling back on things I had learned from Mitsuko, about some kinky things men like.

"Tempting," Akiko said. "I just worry we could wear your breasts out, I want them to always stay as firm and high as they are."

"Alright, then how about we get back to that blowjob?"

"You sure this isn't heaven? Pinch me."

I reached up and cupped her breasts, then pinched both nipples and rolled them between my thumb and forefinger. She squirmed and moaned, and I swear her cock flexed and grew a little thicker and longer. I took her hands in mine and placed them on the back of my head. She ran her fingers firmly through my black hair as if massaging my scalp, then she gathered my hair behind my head and took a firm grip on it.

I slid her throbbing cock into my mouth again. I smiled with satisfaction as I felt her hands press me down further. For my part, I strained to admit her helmet into the back of my throat.

"Do you want to take me all the way?" I heard Akiko say, but she could no doubt sense that I was determined to do so. As I bobbed on her cock, I felt it growing and stiffening. I pulled off.

"It's so big," I panted.

"Alright, let's--"

"Help me take it all the way, push my head harder," I interrupted. "Please, let me try again."

I took her cock in again, but stopped as it butted up against the back of my mouth. Try as I might, I could not swallow that mushroom tip. I wiggled my head to try to work her into my throat. All it did was make me wince and gag, but I didn't back off.

"Alright, let me help you," she said. She held my hair back and at the same time, pushed my head down on her dick. "That's it, don't worry about the drool flowing down your chin. Let it drip. Open wide and deep. Deep throat that cock."

I repositioned my torso and really opened up my throat, and before I realized what she had done, she shoved my head all the way onto her, her tip slipped into my throat and my nose pressed into her toned abdomen.

"Oh fuck! You did it!"

I struggled, involuntarily, wanting to breathe, but she held on for a moment. "I thought you were an uptight bitch, but you suck dick like a – ungh, like a goddamn horny – fuck!"

Feeling the urge to gag, I pulled off again. "It's too much," I gasped. Then I took her in again, pushing through until her cock was all the way in. I gagged but for a split second I fought the urge to pull back, and very nearly lost it. I flung my head back and splashed back into the tub, sat on my butt and tried not to lose my dinner.

"Alright, you don't need to go so deep to give me a good blowjob," Akiko said. I nodded, drool still dripping from my chin, and crawled back to her.

I began bobbing on her shaft again, working the base with my hand and licking the underside from the tip to the thick middle portion. I wanted to gasp and pant, but I kept my lips wrapped around her shaft and breathed through my nose. I maintained a steady rhythm for barely a minute, and Akiko started to lose control.

"That's it, you stuck up, too-good-for-anyone princess! Suck that cock, drink it, drink it!"

Her cock spasmed and I bobbed harder as she started cumming but she grabbed my hair and held my head firmly. Her dick pumped a deluge of sweet cum into my mouth. I tried to swallow but it was more than I could keep up with. Gobs of cum gushed out past my lips and poured down my chin and onto my breasts.

"Fucking god Hanako, you drained my balls like a pro," she said, pulling my head back until her cock slid from my dripping lips.

"Ungh," I simpered in pleased agreement, still swallowing her sticky sweet load. I washed it down with a little champagne from her glass.

"That was a good warm up, but we're just getting started," Akiko said. "Are you ready for what comes next?"

"Ready? I'm ready for anything," I replied, heady with infatuation. I thought cum was supposed to be more salty and funny-tasting. Hers was sweet from the fruit syrup she had been eating, and I wanted to taste more.

We grabbed our towels and dried off, then dived onto the bed. She kissed me softly and I spread my legs. I loved kissing her glossy pink lips and tasting her probing tongue.

She surged into me without hesitation. Her cock pushed deep inside of me, until it bumped into my roof. I broke from her kiss.

"How is it?" I asked.

"It's warm and tight, very tight," Akiko said, nuzzling my shoulder. She nibbled on my neck and began to thrust in and out.

"Don't stop, I want you inside me when you cum," I said.

She maintained her tempo, pounding me until I started to cum. Even as I cried and gasped, she kept going, over-stimulating my sensitive tunnel. I gasped and pushed her back with my shins. I needed time for the orgasm to run its course. After a few moments, I let her slip back into me, and I begged her to fuck me harder.

My breasts jiggled as she thrust into me, and her breasts swung in front of my lips. I fondled and sucked them, and soon she was cumming hard. She hilted herself inside my quivering pussy and we came together. Her cock kept spasming until my pussy overflowed and a puddle of cum was on the sheets between my legs.

I caressed her cheek, and thought by then Akiko was spent. Instead, she turned me on my side and slid into me from behind. She began humping me steadily, and I tucked my knees up to allow her deeper penetration and better angles. She took advantage, sliding into me from every direction. I could swear that at times, her cock was tapping my cervix.

I had lost track of the number of times I came, but I felt like after all that and two glasses of champagne, there weren't any orgasms left in me. Akiko's warm, throbbing cock still felt good though, and I wanted her to fuck me for as long as she wanted.

When she started to pound me fast and steady, pleasure began to overwhelm me once more. I moaned with appreciation, growing louder as the sensations intensified.

"This is it," she said through gritted teeth. Her words were all but drowned out by my wails of passion. I couldn't believe I was about to cum again, but with every thrust of Akiko's cock I felt myself surging to the point of no return. My breasts jiggled non-stop.

"Don't stop!" I wailed. I gripped the sheets and held on for dear life. Akiko began cumming, spurting her hot cream deep inside of me, emptying her balls until my pussy overflowed.

We made a mess of the bed and ended up sleeping in the smaller room I booked for Akiko. Before we went to sleep, we talked about ourselves, our wants, our preferences, our history. It was just the beginning. I had Akiko, I had her cock, and I hoped every night would be just the same.

Akiko kept me guessing about a lot of things. I doubt I will ever reveal her most closely guarded secrets, about her marvelous contradiction. Actually, contradiction is the wrong word. While some might see her that way, she is basically exactly how she was meant to be. Strange as it might seem, she is herself and would not have it any other way. Neither would I.