by Guy Willard
Fumio, gazing at Tatsuya’s profile, suddenly realized how little he actually knew about his friend: almost nothing about his personal life, and nothing at all about his real nature. But that mystery only added to his allure.
“Tatsuya, what do you plan to do after all this? I mean, you can’t expect to work as a host forever, you know.”
“I know.” He sucked abstractedly on his cigarette and blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth. “As a matter of fact…I just quit my job.”
“You’re kidding! Why did you quit?”
“Oh, I just got tired of catering to all those stupid bitches.”
“But you were earning so much money. I thought you had it made.”
“Made?” Tatsuya’s expression suddenly turned fierce. “What does it mean to have a little more money than the next guy? What do people end up doing once they get rich? Treat everyone else like filth, without even thinking about their feelings, that’s what.”
Fumio was startled by this unexpected outburst. “What’s wrong, Tatsuya?”
“I don’t know. I was just getting so tired of everything. All of a sudden I just wanted to give it all up and go someplace far away. You know what I mean?” He paused. “That car…it’s sort of like a separation fee. I broke up with that lousy cunt.”
The two truckers were gone by now, and the boys had the place to themselves. Still, Tatsuya seemed somewhat restless.
“How about if we step outside for some fresh air?”
“Sure.”
As they went out to the parking area, the dark outline of the mountains across the way seemed to shut out the night. Solitary cars blurred by on the expressway, causing the ground beneath them to quiver as if buffeted by phantom winds. There was a distinct chill in the air. Despite the cold, Tatsuya was wearing only a T-shirt and jeans. He looked so sexy in them that Fumio felt a shiver go up his spine.
“Do you still go out to Roppongi a lot, Tatsuya?”
“Yeah. Every now and then. But I’m getting a little bored with that scene as well.”
“It sounds like you’re getting ready to settle down or something.”
“No way. I tried that and it didn’t work.”
“Oh? You mean you actually had a steady girlfriend?”
“Yeah. My only one, believe it or not. But we broke up.”
“When?”
“I can’t even remember. Oh yes. It was just before I moved into that apartment where I met you. That was the reason for my move, in fact.”
“Why did you break up?”
“I really don’t want to go into that right now. It’s a long story, believe me. Let’s just say she hurt me in a way I could never forgive…as a result of which I found myself beginning to distrust women. At least, I can’t take them seriously anymore. Maybe that’s why I’m the way I am now.” He lapsed into silence.
“Have you tried meeting someone new?”
“Sure. But each girl I met only confirmed the deadness of my feelings. They were nothing more than playthings for me, a way of satisfying my lust. In my heart I despised them all.”
Fumio felt a keen sympathy for the loneliness he sensed in his friend, an almost bottomless despair. And he was afraid to look inside his own heart for fear of finding the same thing there.
“Is there anything you really care for, Tatsuya? I mean, besides this car of yours.”
Tatsuya reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the car key. The key-holder was shaped in the likeness of an ancient Egyptian hunting dog. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”
“All right.”
“Fumio, there’s another reason I wanted to see you tonight.”
“What’s that?”
“Since I broke up with Midori—you know, the bitch who gave me this car, she stopped my allowance, which means I can’t keep up on my monthly payments for the apartment. And I was wondering if you’d like to move in with me, so we can go halves on it. There’s plenty of room for two guys there. I thought it might be fun.”
“Isn’t this rather sudden?”
“I know. I’m sorry. But would you think it over?”
Fumio nodded, trying to act as if he was somewhat reluctant about it, but in his heart he was exhilarated. Living with Tatsuya would be a dream come true. “How soon do you need an answer?”
“Not right away. But the sooner the better.”
“All right. I’m feeling a little tired. Shall we head home now?”
“Sure.”
As they drove back on the Tokyo-bound side, Fumio lowered his seat back and gazed out toward the city. The whole metropolis seemed to be spreading outward toward the horizon, its countless tiny buildings like flotsam and jetsam washing around the bases of the skyscrapers. Beneath the purplish sky, the lights of the city were winking on here and there. The sun was just rising, turning the sky at the horizon a pale orange.
“Nice view, huh?” said Fumio.
“Yeah. But views bore me after a while.” Tatsuya’s attention was on the road ahead. Whistling a disjointed tune, he reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. As he slipped them on, he assumed the cocky air of a young man who has everything in the world going for him. This show of arrogance charmed Fumio, and he felt something melt inside him.
“You look so cool in those sunglasses.”
“Do I?” Tatsuya glanced at himself in the rearview mirror.
“Yes.” Fumio would have liked to gaze forever at his friend’s profile, but returned his attention to the road ahead, the better to camouflage the feelings of love which were surging up from his gut in pulsing throbs barely distinguishable from nausea.
15
Fumio met Professor Akiyoshi in front of Ikebukuro station as promised, and together they went to a nearby restaurant where the older man ordered steaks for both of them. As they were drinking the wine before the meal arrived, the professor said: “Well, Fumio, have you thought over my offer?”
“Yes, Sensei. And as a matter of fact, I’ve already informed Genji that I will no longer be working there. They’ve taken me off the menu.”
“That’s wonderful. Let’s drink to that.” They clinked glasses and drank. “And,” the professor continued, “have you thought about what part of Tokyo you’d like to live in?”
“As for that….” Fumio set his glass down. “A friend of mine has asked me to move in with him. He wants me to share the rent with him.”
“Oh? And who is this friend? A classmate?”
“No. He used to be my next-door neighbor until he moved out.”
“I see. He wouldn’t be something…more than a friend, would he?”
Fumio laughed. “Don’t worry, Sensei.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “He’s completely nonke, and knows nothing about our world. As a matter of fact, he works in a host club catering to women. Or he did, until he quit.”
“It doesn’t sound as if he’s very settled.”
“He may be a little wild, but he’s a good boy.”
“I certainly hope so. I wouldn’t like to see you getting mixed up with any irresponsible types.”
“Don’t worry, Sensei. He’s down on his luck right now, and that’s why I have to help him out. But he’s sure to find a job soon and get back on his feet.”
Their steaks arrived just then, so they fell silent until the waiter had gone away. As they began eating, the professor said, “As a matter of fact, Fumio, there was another matter I wished to speak to you of.”
He cut away a piece of his steak and popped it into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing it, he said, “Fumio, is there a girl you’re involved with right now?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. If it’s all right with you, I’d like you to refrain from making any further commitments with girls from now on.”
“But why?”
The professor cleared his throat. “As I told you before, I have a daughter—just a year or two older than you….”
“And…?
”
“Well, she’s been acting a little rebellious lately, and I’d like someone like you who’s reliable and trustworthy to keep an eye on her.”
“Is she in some kind of trouble?”
“Well, let’s just say we have certain reasons to be extremely careful.”
“Why are you asking me to do this?”
“Because I also have another long-term prospect down the line.”
“Yes…?” Fumio didn’t like the direction in which the talk was heading. His heart sank as he heard Akiyoshi continue.
“Have you given any serious thought to marriage, Fumio?”
“Not really. I’m much too young right now to be considering it.”
“But you’ll have to think about it sometime soon, you know.”
“Sensei, I hope you’re not suggesting—”
The professor waved his hand in denial. “It’s just a thought for now, Fumio, something that popped into my head out of nowhere.”
“Good. Because you had me scared for a moment, sir.”
Fumio continued eating. While it was true that he wasn’t interested in marriage, the possibility the professor had hinted at did sound intriguing. Since the girl was Akiyoshi’s only child, any man who married her would be formally entered into the professor’s family registry…meaning that he stood to inherit everything the professor now owned. Of course the son-in-law would have to change his family name to Akiyoshi, but that was certainly a small price to pay for all the rewards awaiting him upon the professor’s death.
Fumio tried to hide his excitement as he cut his steak. No doubt the professor wanted him to marry the daughter as a way of permanently having Fumio near him. Still, how much longer could the old man’s sex drive last? He was almost sixty now. In a few more years, his virility and desire would surely wane. And then Fumio could look forward to a quiet life of ease and prosperity. The only danger was that the daughter would find a different man and elope with him before the marriage happened.
“You’ve fallen silent, Fumio. I’m sorry to have introduced such a heavy topic into our evening together. Please just forget about it for now. Let’s have some fun tonight.”
“Of course.”
“There’s a place I’ve been meaning to take you to. Hurry up and finish that steak.”
After their dinner, they headed to the entertainment district where the streets were alive with people looking for fun. The professor led Fumio down some steps to a basement drinking place called X.
As they entered, a couple of men behind the counter called out their greetings. Both of them were in their fifties or sixties, and one of them was bald. Fumio knew right away that they were gay. They were dressed as if for a festival, naked but for happi vests and traditional white cotton loincloths. Wrapped around their heads were the rolled cloth headbands which went with such festive wear.
There were no other customers in the place, so Fumio and the professor took a couple of seats at the counter and ordered drinks. The bald man greeted Akiyoshi like an old customer: “It’s been a long time since you last visited us, Sensei. I assume you’ve been busy with other matters….” He glanced at Fumio with a knowing expression.
The professor laughed. “This is Fumio-kun, a good friend of mine.”
“And what a lovely friend indeed. I’m pleased to meet you, Fumi-chan.”
The other man bowed as well, then asked Fumio, “Do you like roku-shaku?”
“What’s that?”
“One of these.” He pointed at the loincloth he was wearing.
“A fundoshi? I’ve never worn one before.” Fumio had always associated loincloths with men of a much older generation.
“You should try it. I’m sure it would look really good on you.”
As Fumio turned to the professor for an explanation, the older man informed him that this was a loincloth bar, a place where roku-shaku lovers gathered. Apparently most of the customers liked to bring their own loincloths with them, but those who didn’t have one could easily rent one here. There was a separate room behind the counter where you could change into your loincloth and relax without fear of being seen by anyone in the bar.
Soon a couple of other customers arrived together and sat at the counter. Both of them were in their forties or fifties, an age when no doubt loincloths were a common sight in their youths. They’d probably grown up thinking of loincloths as manly wear.
Fumio and Akiyoshi finished off their second drinks, but before ordering refills, the professor suggested to Fumio that they head into the back room. He asked one of the men behind the counter for a couple of loincloths.
“But,” said Fumio, “I wouldn’t know how to put one on.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.” Akiyoshi ordered two more drinks, then accepted the loincloths from the bald man before leading Fumio into the back room. It turned out to be a fairly large room which was fully carpeted, with a small table to put their drinks on, and a clothing rack for hanging up their clothes. Against the back wall was a large mirror and also a punishment rack with various restraints hanging from it.
They put their drinks on the table and began getting undressed. Once they were fully naked, Akiyoshi put on his loincloth, explaining the process step by step. Picking up his own, Fumio imitated him, and when he got stuck, was shown how to do it properly. Finally he had it on.
Going over to the mirror, he examined himself from the front and behind, and had to admit that it did look quite good on him. The snug fit of the pouch cupping his genitals felt very comfortable, and with the rolled-up length of cloth in back tucked firmly between his buttocks, his ass cheeks were left fully exposed. It was every bit as sexy as an athletic supporter, but even manlier.
The professor was busy admiring him from every angle. “With your solid build and smoothly tanned skin, you look just like a robust farm boy from the old days.”
“Should I accept that as a compliment?”
“Most definitely. Don’t you think you look sexy in that loincloth?”
“I like the way it feels on me.”
“Come on, let’s sit down on the floor.”
The bald man arrived with their drinks and placed them on the table. He gazed admiringly at Fumio.
“I was right,” he said. “You have the perfect build for a roku-shaku. Japanese men’s bodies look their best in traditional wear like this. Too bad Western clothes had to be introduced into our country. Young men nowadays only wear briefs or—worse yet—boxer shorts. Ugh! I’m from a small village in Niigata, and when I was young, we all wore roku-shaku, thinking it was the best thing ever. But Sensei is from Tokyo, so it was probably much different for him.”
“Oh no,” said Akiyoshi, “I loved roku-shaku every bit as much as you did. But in my case, it was always associated with the shita-machi festivals, when I used to admire the young men carrying the portable shrines. In fact, seeing their naked butts was what gave me my first erections, at about age nine or ten. I knew even then that I was destined to love young men all my life.”
The other man laughed and went back to the bar, leaving the two of them alone. As soon as he was gone, the professor pulled Fumio close so they could kiss. He seemed particularly excited tonight: the front of his loincloth was already bulged out.
Soon the two other customers joined them in the room, stripping off their clothes and donning personal loincloths which they’d apparently brought along in their briefcases. The professor didn’t even seem to notice their presence as he continued fondling Fumio.
Despite himself—and perhaps because he was intensely aware of being watched by the other two men—Fumio felt himself getting very aroused. The new arrivals were soon kissing and touching each other as well.
The professor began licking Fumio’s nipples. Fumio fought back a whimper of delight. And then, to his embarrassment, Akiyoshi tugged at the pouch of Fumio’s loincloth, pulling it aside to expose his penis. The other men turned to watch, their eyes glinting at the sight.
When Akiyoshi began stroking Fumio’s penis, they moved in for closer looks. Despite his extreme self-consciousness, Fumio had to admit that he enjoyed their rapt scrutiny. Both of them were practically licking their lips at the sight before them.
The professor moved around to Fumio’s back. Reaching down, he undid Fumio’s loincloth and pulled it completely off. As he resumed stroking the younger man’s penis, Fumio slowly spread his thighs apart so that his audience would have a better view. Lying back against the professor, he closed his eyes as if to disassociate himself from his own narcissism.
Suddenly he felt a hand touch his knee. Opening his eyes, he saw that one of the men was caressing his leg. The other had moved in closer to touch him as well. From behind, Akiyoshi began fondling his chest with gentle tweaks at the nipples.
Fumio closed his eyes once more as he felt hands moving all over his body. It was as if a whole crowd of men was making love with him. At some point a mouth had begun to lick and suck his penis. He didn’t open his eyes to verify who it was. He was merely surprised that the professor, who had so often expressed his jealousy about Fumio sleeping with other men, was now allowing these two to touch him.
His hips were being raised from below so that a tongue could lap at his anus. And now two mouths were at work on him below the waist. Stifling a moan, he gyrated his hips to maximize his pleasure.
The professor’s voice whispered in his ear: “I love you so much, Fumio.”
It was almost as if these other men were merely acting as stand-ins for Akiyoshi, making love to his beloved boy in a manner humanly impossible: with six hands, three mouths, and three penises.
Indeed, Fumio felt like a beautiful young god, vibrant with life, desired by all. Wasn’t this close to what Tatsuya had experienced in that hotel room with those two girls in Roppongi? Fumio had the illusion that he was now merging with his friend, both in mind and body, feeling Tatsuya’s firm young flesh becoming one with his own….
16