by Guy Willard
He had become so comfortable being with Akiyoshi that whenever they met in the hotel room, it was almost as if they were lovers enjoying a secret tryst. If the professor hadn’t handed over 40,000 yen for each date, and Fumio hadn’t made the required phone call to Genji, no one would have dreamed they were a paid boy and his client.
Tonight Fumio noticed that the professor looked somewhat tired.
“Has it been a busy day for you, Sensei?” he asked, concerned.
The older man nodded. “I think I’ll take a shower right away.”
“Very well. I’ll get the bath towel and robe ready.”
As soon as the professor went to take his shower, Fumio poured some of Akiyoshi’s favorite brandy into a glass, then poured some for himself and sat back in the armchair to wait. They no longer even took a shower together, since the older man said he preferred Fumio in his natural state, complete with the smell of his underarm sweat and dirty socks. He even asked that Fumio not clean off any smegma which might be trapped under his foreskin.
The sound of the shower stopped, and moments later the professor emerged, wearing his bathrobe and rubbing his hair dry with a towel. Fumio handed him his brandy and took the towel from him.
“Why don’t you lie down on the bed so I can give you a massage?” he said.
“That sounds great.”
Fumio pulled the bathrobe off of him and set it aside, then helped him lie face down on the bed. As he began kneading Akiyoshi’s stiff shoulders, the older man talked of his day. Recently he was quite busy as a panelist on numerous television talk shows. In fact, he’d just come from a meeting this afternoon with some executives at Asahi Television. His area of expertise—U.S./Japan relations—was very much in demand right now, and invitations to speak on various news programs never seemed to let up.
“Did you see me last night on News Station?” he asked Fumio.
“Of course. I liked the tie you had on. It made you look so much younger.”
“Do you think so? It was a present from my daughter.”
“Are you sure it was your daughter, and not some cute boy?”
The professor laughed, delighted at this show of jealousy. Fumio had become adept at flattering him like this.
“You know I wouldn’t cheat on you, Fumi-chan. I swear it was my daughter.”
“Well,” he said, pretending to pout, “she has good taste in neckties, anyway.”
“And how was your day, Fumi-chan?”
“The usual.”
“How are you doing with your schoolwork?”
“Fine.” Actually he should have been studying for the upcoming midterms and writing a paper for his world history class, but he hadn’t even started yet. He was thinking of paying someone to write the report for him.
“You don’t seem too interested in your studies. Remember, you’re going to be busy with job-hunting in your final year of school, so you want to get at least the required number of credits to graduate. What a waste it would be to have to repeat another year.”
“But I still have a few months left before my final year.”
“It’ll be here before you know it. And you should start thinking about life after college, you know. Do you have any special job in mind?”
“I’ll probably try out for the civil service exams so I can become a public school teacher or some kind of government official. Anyway, that’s what my mother wants me to do.”
“But is that what you want to do?” He looked over his shoulder at Fumio. “With all due respect for your mother’s wishes, you should think about what’s best for your own future. Didn’t you say you have an older brother?”
“Yes. So he’ll be the one to look after her. That’s why I was able to come here to Tokyo for university.”
Fumio had stopped massaging the professor, who now seemed deep in thought. Finally Akiyoshi said, “You know, I run a small juku. Not under my own name, of course, but under my wife’s.”
“Oh?” This was the first time Fumio had heard of it. He knew that college professors made a fairly good living from their teaching and writing, but he’d never suspected that Akiyoshi also ran a business. Now he understood where all his money came from.
“What’s the name of your juku?”
The professor told him, and Fumio immediately recognized it from the advertisements in the newspapers. Far from being a small juku, it was one of the best-known in western Tokyo. Akiyoshi was far richer than he’d suspected.
The professor seemed pleased at the impression he’d made. “I’ve been successful enough with the first juku to open up another one in Mitaka. It looks like things will be quite busy there in the near future, and I could really use someone I trust to run it—a young person who is capable and ambitious. It’ll be a well-paying job and could lead to many important connections in the education field.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“So that you’ll be inspired to study harder. And after you graduate, if you wish, you’ll have a job waiting for you. At first you’ll start out as an instructor, of course, but with the understanding that you’d work your way up to the director’s position. It’s a nice living, let me assure you. But of course, I wouldn’t want to go against your mother’s wishes.”
Fumio knew that the position the professor was offering him would pay so much more than he could ever hope to earn as a government official. And the extra money he could send home to his mother would surely convince her to agree as well. It definitely sound tempting: the work would be challenging, well-paying, and above all, allow him to stay in Tokyo. He recalled Yuji’s words to him the last time he’d visited Prince, about some boys being made for life by a fortuitous meeting with an older man.
Trying to keep his excitement from showing, he said, “Well, it sounds very tempting, but I’d have to consult my mother and brother first.”
“Of course. I would never ask you to be unfilial to your family. It’s not an immediate thing, so give yourself plenty of time to think it over. You could even break into it gently during your student years, as a part-time instructor...to see how well you take to it. I realize you might prefer a government job with all its benefits and security. But if you decide to go with the juku, you have my guarantee that I’ll look after your welfare no matter what happens in the future.”
Fumio hadn’t expected things to move so quickly, and was a bit overwhelmed, but the professor, sensing his turmoil, tactfully changed the subject. “And how is your romantic life? Been seeing any girlies lately?”
“I was in Roppongi the other day with a friend, and we picked up a couple of girls and took them to a love hotel.”
It always gave Akiyoshi great pleasure to hear of Fumio’s supposed sexual conquests, and Fumio was often hard pressed to come up with new ones. Occasionally he borrowed stories he’d heard from the nonke boys who worked at Genji. But there were times when he suspected Akiyoshi knew he was making them up, and intentionally played along with the game.
“Describe the girl you were with. In detail.” The look on the professor’s face was almost like that of a virginal high school boy asking a sexually experienced classmate about his adventures with women. “Did she have a very sexy body?”
“Oh yes. Her breasts stuck out like this, even when she was lying down. And her nipples were erect from the moment I pulled her bra off.”
“And how about her you-know-what?”
“Nice and tight. And dripping wet by the time I was done with her.”
“I’ll bet the bed sheets were soaked….”
Fumio laughed. “Professor, do you know how you sound right now? Just like a typical dirty old man.”
“But I am a dirty old man. And I’m delighted by sexy young girls, just like all men my age—except in my case, I’m thinking of the handsome young studs who are sure to be pumping their rock-hard dicks into these girls’ hungry little pussies. I get such a thrill whenever you give me juicy little tidbits about your escapades with naughty young girl
s.”
Fumio laughed again. “Professor, I think you’re contradicting yourself. First, you tell me to study hard so I can graduate. Now you’re telling me to go to bed with as many girls as I can. How will I be able to do both?”
“Well, it’s true that you should study hard while you’re in school, but at the same time you should play hard as well. You’re only young for a short while, you know. Here you are in the prime of your life, with time and money on your hands, so you should be making the most of it. After all, the girls in your school are doing the same thing, right? Fucking as many boys as they can before they have to graduate and settle down? Listen, I teach these little hussies, so I should know.”
Fumio, recalling a complaint one of the boys in Genji had made, said, “If only I could have just the sex, without having to put up with their silly chatter.”
The professor chuckled indulgently. “Yes, yes, but don’t you see? That’s just their charm. Frivolous, empty-headed and cute: the perfect female companion for a man. They can never understand the real things which bond men together, of course, but that doesn’t mean you can’t play around with them.”
Fumio sipped his brandy in silence. All of a sudden the professor rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He looked helpless and lost without his glasses on. Peering shortsightedly at Fumio, he said: “You know something, Fumi-chan? The worst thing you can do with your life is to waste it. Time flies by so fast—you wouldn’t believe how fast. And before you know it, you’re old and ugly and unwanted. Just like me.”
“Don’t say that, Sensei. You know it’s not true.”
“It is. Once you’re an old man there’s nothing to live for. Nothing.”
Fumio spoke a little more sternly. “Sensei, pull yourself together.”
The professor turned over onto his side so he could look straight at him. Fumio couldn’t help noticing the saggy flesh on the old man, and the solitary strands of gray hair poking out from his nipples.
“Fumi-chan, I get so lonely sometimes. Will you please put your arms around me?”
“Of course.”
As they hugged each other tightly, the professor whispered into Fumio’s ear, “Listen. I hate to think that I have to share you with any man who has a couple of ten-thousand yen bills in his pocket. Have you ever considered quitting Genji?”
“No. If I quit, I wouldn’t be able to afford all the nice things I’ve grown used to.”
“How about if I make it worth your while, then?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll give you a regular allowance of two hundred thousand yen a month, in return for which you only have to meet me here at this hotel once or twice a week.”
“Two hundred thousand yen….” Fumio knew this was how much a college graduate normally made upon joining a major company. As he pretended to mull it over, the professor cleared his throat.
“Or better yet, I can buy you a condominium anywhere you like in Tokyo, so that you aren’t put to the inconvenience of coming to this hotel for our dates. How about that? In return, you quit your job and never sleep with any other man but me. You can have as many girlfriends as you like, of course, provided they never move in with you.”
“In other words, you want me to be your kept boy.”
“I don’t like that term, ‘kept boy.’ Let’s say, rather, you’ll be my protégé. After all, I’d be grooming you to manage one of my jukus someday. What do you say?”
“Anywhere in Tokyo?”
“Within reasonable limits, of course. But yes, a condo with all the conveniences. Please think it over.”
The professor could see the pleased look in Fumio’s eyes. “I think I see your answer already. Does that rate a kiss for me?”
“It certainly does.”
They embraced and kissed, and the professor thrust his tongue deep into Fumio’s mouth, skillfully toying with the younger man’s tongue. After he finally pulled away, he said, “When would be a good day for us to go condo-hunting?”
“Any day you’re free, Sensei.”
“You’re such a sweet boy, Fumio. I want to keep you by my side forever.”
Their bodies were pressed tightly together and Fumio could feel the other man’s penis stirring into life. For a man of his age, the professor was surprisingly virile. He had a very rigid erection which he could maintain for quite a long period of time. It was almost as if, within that decrepit body of his lurked an erotic yearning which writhed and squirmed like some unholy, ever-youthful parasite.
14
Fumio was sound asleep when he heard a banging on his apartment door. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was past three o’clock in the morning. He got up to open the door and was surprised to see Tatsuya standing there looking quite drunk.
“Tatsuya! What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t know how else to find you. Thankfully you haven’t moved out.”
“Come on in.”
Fumio shoved his futon aside to allow room for the other boy to sit.
“Listen, Fumio. I want to apologize about the other night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I promised to show you a good time, but it turned out that I was the only one who enjoyed myself. I’m sorry.”
“No problem. What was it like, having two girls at once?”
“Well, let me tell you, it definitely wore me out. That girl Izumi was insatiable. She wanted to do it all night. And as usual in these three-way situations, the two girls went for each other as well.”
“You mean they were lesbians?”
“No. But every girl, during sex, will reach a certain point when she seems to lose all her inhibitions, and if there’s another girl in bed with her, she’ll think nothing of making love with her as well. After a while, I started to feel a little superfluous. Still, I knew they needed me to be there watching them, so that their enjoyment would be enhanced. But why did Izumi leave you in the lurch like that?”
Fumio hesitated. “Well, the truth is, I couldn’t get it up for her.”
“Oh. Had too much to drink, did you? It happens to the best of us.”
“Not to you, I’ll bet.”
“Oh, I have my limits too, just like everyone else. Listen. How would you like to go for a drive with me? It’ll give me a chance to clear my head of all this alcohol.”
“You came here by car?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Let me get dressed.”
Once they were down on the street, Fumio saw at once that the car Tatsuya was driving was the same one he’d been in with the older woman.
“Hmm, this looks familiar,” he murmured.
“Get in.”
Tatsuya started up the engine and turned to Fumio. “How about a spin on the Chuo Expressway? I always like to take a drive after work. It helps to relieve my stresses.”
“Sure.”
Tatsuya put the car into gear and pulled into the street. “Whenever other guys in fast cars see me driving this thing, they can’t resist challenging me to a race. I always accept, of course, because I know I can easily beat them.”
Fumio, sitting next to him in the passenger seat, could all but feel the keen sense of anticipation coursing through Tatsuya’s body. Even before they reached the on-ramp of the expressway, a sporty car pulled up next to them at the traffic light and revved its engine in challenge. Tatsuya signaled for the other car to follow, then slowly pulled onto the ramp.
The expressway was all but deserted at this early hour and Fumio gazed blankly at the endless rows of yellow-orange lights suspended over the roadway before him as far as he could see.
Tatsuya allowed the other car to catch up and even pull ahead a little before stamping his foot down hard on the accelerator. Fumio felt himself being yanked back into his seat as the highway lights above became a blur. His heart hammered madly and he didn’t dare look over at Tatsuya, who seemed to be fearless of death, or even inviting it. This expressway was notorious for the sinuousness of its m
ountainside curves, and numerous skid marks indicated the spots where young men had met their end. At the thought of all those deaths, a keen thrill shot through Fumio, giving him a light-headed clarity of vision: the world outside looked like a 3D picture postcard. He felt that dying on the highway with Tatsuya in a spectacular crash would be the most beautiful way to end his life.
The other car slipped farther and farther behind as if being sucked back by their draft, and apparently got off the expressway at the Hachioji interchange. Tatsuya grinned at Fumio with a look of triumph in his eyes. “I live for these moments,” he said. “Nothing feels better than humiliating one of these arrogant bastards.”
Fumio shared in his friend’s simple happiness, but the magic of the moment was fleeting, for he had a sudden presentiment that Tatsuya would die young. Fumio couldn’t picture him as a middle-aged man no matter how hard he tried. Tatsuya was the very embodiment of youth and would always stay as young as he was at this moment.
When they came to the next rest area, Tatsuya pulled into it. A couple of trucks were parked in front of an all-night eatery. When the boys went inside, it turned out to be a vending machine restaurant, empty but for the drivers of the two trucks outside lingering over their styrofoam bowls of noodles, reading sports newspapers. Still feeling a bit shaken up, Fumio lit a cigarette and gradually felt calmer as he smoked it. He tried not to think of how fast they’d been going.
Tatsuya bought a bowl of noodles and began slurping them up. Watching him, Fumio had a sudden vision of what the other boy must have looked like in elementary school, and had to turn his head aside to hide a smile.
As Tatsuya finished his noodles, he drank some of the soup and broke the disposable chopsticks in two. “There, that takes care of that.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tapped one out, getting a light directly from Fumio’s cigarette.