by Guy Willard
“How does that feel, Fumio?”
“Wonderful, sir.”
“Are you and Seiko getting along well?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“I’m glad to hear that. And she seems happy enough to me. It’s clear that you two are well-matched.”
“Seiko-san is the perfect wife for me. I doubt if I would have met anyone who is more understanding.”
“So...might we expect our child soon, then?”
“I’m leaving that up to the gods, sir. Whatever they decree is what we must accept.”
“You’re so old-fashioned in some ways, Fumi-chan.”
“Perhaps so.”
“I trust that you are the man of the house when the two of you are alone together…if you know what I mean.”
Fumio flushed. Pretending to misunderstand the older man’s insinuation, he stated blankly, “We don’t have those old-fashioned ideas about male superiority. In fact, we see each other as equals.”
The professor snorted in disapproval. “Young women nowadays...how can a man put up with them?” His scrubbing slowed to a halt as he whispered in a conspiratorial tone: “You aren’t finding any pleasures outside the marriage bed, I trust?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Because if you were, I might become very jealous....”
Fumio fell silent, worried about the course the talk was taking. But when he felt the touch of a bare hand on his chest, he lightly slapped it away. Without a word, the older man went on scrubbing his son-in-law’s back as if nothing had happened.
Shortly afterwards Fumio was sitting upstairs alone, waiting for Seiko to finish up with the dishes and join him. Yet when he heard her come up the stairs and enter the room, he didn’t have the courage to face her. He pretended to be absorbed in the newspaper he’d just picked up. As if nothing were out of the ordinary, she sat down before her make-up mirror to prepare for sleep.
“How was your bath?” she asked.
“Wonderful. Sensei was kind enough to wash my back for me.”
“Oh?” She began rubbing cold cream onto her face, spreading it out in an even film, then briskly massaging her facial muscles with circular motions of her fingertips.
He was surprised that she didn’t want to tell him immediately about what had happened tonight with Tatsuya. Still, as eager as he was to find out, he felt it would be unseemly to betray too much curiosity. After all, even though he had been the one who’d virtually engineered it, the date was still her private affair.
Finally, unable to restrain himself any longer, he asked as casually as he could: “Well? How did everything turn out?”
She stopped massaging her face and picked up a cotton swab from the box beside her. After dabbing at her face a little, she paused to look straight at him in the mirror’s reflection.
“He was a gentleman in every way. We just saw the concert and had a cup of tea afterwards, exactly as I said. He told me he’d had a busy day today. But he did ask me to see him again sometime.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said it might be possible.”
“Don’t be too coy. He has plenty of other girls he can turn to if you play hard to get.”
She smiled. “Honestly, you sound just like one of my girlfriends. Don’t worry. He sincerely seemed to want to see me again.”
“Just don’t get overconfident. He’s broken many a girl’s heart before.”
“I can imagine. Actually, I was relieved that it all turned out to be so innocent. When I first met him, my heart was pounding like crazy at the thought of what might happen. But after the concert started, I began wondering if all the things you and I said the other night might not be completely off the mark. Maybe he did just want to see the concert with someone who liked the same kind of music.”
Fumio felt irritated at her carefree attitude. “Didn’t he make any suggestive remarks…hint around that he was interested in you as a woman?”
“No, silly. It was all quite innocent. Anyone seeing us might have thought we were a couple of college classmates.”
“What were you wearing? Did you make yourself up attractively?”
“It was only a concert, so I dressed accordingly. I’m not going to make myself look like a vamp or anything. Do you want him to think I’m throwing myself at him?”
“No, of course not.”
She continued dabbing at her face with the cotton swab. “I’m his friend’s wife, after all, not some OL or schoolgirl he picked up.” She tossed away the swab and picked up her hairbrush. As she began brushing out her hair, she mused thoughtfully, “But I could sense certain vibrations, though. We might have been gabbing about pop music, but the tension was there just the same.”
“Still, I’m a little surprised that he’s playing it so carefully. This isn’t like him. He usually tries to get the girl into bed on the first date. Maybe he really does care for you…as a woman.”
She lowered her hairbrush. “If so, that would make things even more dangerous. I don’t know if we should be taking it so lightly. Maybe we should stop before it’s too late.”
For Fumio, it was precisely this dangerous risk which made their game so exciting...like the temptation to take the plunge into bottomless depths when you’re inching closer and closer to the edge of a cliff.
“Why should we stop?” he said. “After all, don’t you find him attractive?”
“Yes. Very much so. I can see why you’re so infatuated with him.”
“Then go ahead and let things take their natural course. He obviously likes you, and you like him. What could be better?”
She put away her make-up things and started gathering her bathing gear together. “So you really want me to pursue this affair?”
“Of course. As long as no one finds out about it—as long as I’m supposedly in the dark about it.”
“It might be more difficult from now on. Mother was just telling me that I shouldn’t be going out so much on my own. She says it doesn’t look good for you.”
“Don’t worry about Mother. I’ll take care of her. I’ll tell her about cases where unhappy women have divorced their husbands because of their lack of freedom.”
“All right, then. If you say so….”
Fumio felt the delicious thrill of being a co-conspirator in a secret plan to betray a lover…even though the lover was himself. He watched as Seiko put her hair up in back and secured it with an elastic hair band. The nape of her neck looked so slender and seductive that he knew Tatsuya would just love to press his lips against its smooth white flesh.
29
Fumio was watching a historical drama on TV with Seiko’s mother, but he’d never been very interested in Japanese history, so he let his mind go pleasantly blank, only keeping alert enough to make appropriate comments when necessary. Seiko’s mother seemed somewhat distracted as well, taking nervous sips from her tea and constantly glancing at the clock.
“I wonder how Father’s dinner is going,” she said.
“I’m sure everything is fine,” said Fumio. He too had noticed that the professor was beginning to spend more and more of his evenings out. Guiltily he wondered if his father-in-law had returned to his familiar haunts in Shinjuku’s 2-chome, driven there by Fumio’s lack of warmth toward him.
“Sensei is quite busy these days,” he said, “and getting even busier. He told me that the producers of a new talk show on Fuji TV are sending out feelers in his direction.”
“It must be nice to feel so wanted.” She focused her attention again on the drama.
The telephone rang, and Fumio jumped. He’d been waiting all evening for this call. Being the one nearer to the phone, he picked it up. “Hello.”
“Hello? Fumio-san? This is Seiko.”
“Oh, hi. How’s it going?” He nodded to his mother-in-law to indicate that the call was for him.
“Wonderful,” said Seiko. “I might be a little late coming home tonight, though, because Etsuko drank a little too
much and is insisting on going to a karaoke place from here. So it looks like I’ll be able to sing tonight.”
“That’s great. Have a good time and be careful coming home. And say hello to your friends.”
“I will. Bye.”
He hung up the phone, his heart pounding.
“Was it Seiko?”
“Yes. She says she’ll be a little late coming home. They’re going to a karaoke place after the party.”
It was understood that Seiko was celebrating her girlfriend Etsuko’s birthday tonight with some other friends from college.
“Fumio-san, you’re really spoiling her. I can’t believe how much you let her get away with.”
“Well, it’s only fair. After all, I’m allowed to go out drinking with my friends every now and then. And besides, it’s Etsuko-san’s birthday, and the two of them were best friends in college.”
“You really don’t mind her staying out this late?”
“No, not at all.”
“Well, if it’s all right with you....” She looked a little disgruntled, though.
He went back to watching TV, but was too excited to be able to concentrate. It looks like I’ll be able to sing tonight.... That had been their secret code indicating that Tatsuya was going to take Seiko to a hotel. He glanced at the clock. Everything was going as planned.
Two days ago, Tatsuya had invited Seiko to go out dancing with him. When Seiko had said it might be difficult to get permission, he’d said, “Tell Fumio some girlfriends invited you out.” She’d known then that he intended to make his move on her this time. From the moment Fumio had been told about it, he and Seiko had begun planning out the strategy for the night.
Now he felt like a playwright who has written a masterful drama, but has to stay at home on opening night. How he wished he could be kept informed of Seiko’s every movement. All through dinner he’d imagined her dancing with Tatsuya at the disco. She’d worn a relatively demure dress when she’d left home, but had hidden a much more daring one in her handbag. Like so many other girls who wished to appear modest in public, she planned to change into her sexy body-hugging dress in a public restroom somewhere near the disco.
Now, as he imagined the couple leaving the disco, perhaps arm-in-arm, he felt a little feverish. He put a hand over his eyes. Maybe he really did have a temperature. At the thought of Seiko wearing her sexy dress and high heels, Fumio experienced the curious sensation of being merged into her body.
Vaguely he heard his mother-in-law complaining about Seiko’s selfishness: “Ever since she was a little girl, she’s always had her way. When she was in kindergarten she was the only one who....”
Where was Seiko at this very moment? Fumio pictured her checking into a love hotel with Tatsuya, the two of them getting their key and taking the elevator up to their room. Once in the room, Seiko would feel so nervous that she would try to hide it by chattering away. Or perhaps Tatsuya, to ease her nervousness, had pulled her to him as soon as he’d closed the door, blotting out all thoughts from her mind with a passionate kiss. And once they kissed, everything else would follow predictably. Tatsuya would invite Seiko to take a shower first, and then wait for her in bed, confidently smoking a cigarette. And as Seiko stepped out of the shower, her hair all wet and the towel wrapped around her body, Tatsuya would be watching her with slightly lowered eyes.
As Seiko stood there hesitating, he would call her over to the bed where they would sit talking for a while. And then he would casually put his hand to her hair and lightly stroke it, telling her how beautiful she was. Fumio trembled at the sound of Tatsuya’s voice murmuring softly in her ear....
On TV, the historical drama had ended with the thundering sound of horses’ hooves pounding toward a gathering battle. “To be continued” flashed on the screen, and as the previews for next week’s episode came on, Seiko’s mother rattled the newspaper as she examined the television schedule.
“There’s really nothing good on tonight,” she murmured, peering through her thick-lensed reading glasses. As she glanced up at Fumio, the glasses slid down her nose a little. “Is there anything in particular you wish to see?”
“Is the movie any good?”
“It sounds like an American action movie. A police story.”
“I’ll pass on that. How about a music program?”
“There’s a pop song show on.” She picked up the remote control and pressed the channel button.
The screen changed to a colorful backdrop before which pop stars, as each one was introduced, came running down a sort of ramp. His mother-in-law blinked at the screen.
“Isn’t that the singer whose concert Seiko went to the other day?”
“No, Mother.”
“Well, they all look the same to me....”
As the first pop star began singing, Fumio thought of Seiko again. Her voice had sounded a little nervous over the phone. What if she’d changed her mind and backed down at the last minute? Though she’d been so excited when they’d planned out the evening, Fumio knew it might be hard for her to actually go through with it even after taking her shower in the hotel room. But if she voiced any second thoughts at that point, Tatsuya would surely think she was playing hard to get. To overcome her hesitancy, all he had to do was call her over to him. And as he hugged her tightly, she would begin to shiver from real nervousness and cling to him for support. His hand would reach for the towel and untuck it, causing it to slide slowly down her body, revealing her warm flesh beneath…that smooth white skin which Tatsuya’s fingers would lovingly begin to caress.... Fumio knew that his friend would not be disappointed by Seiko’s body.
And Seiko too, would have a treat awaiting her as Tatsuya pulled the cover off so she could slide under it with him: his well-muscled shoulders and chest, his dark brown nipples standing out against his smoothly tanned skin, his tight, flat abdomen…. And lower down, the strip of white about his hips where the sun had been unable to tan him...and there, already stirring into full erection, the long, thick penis with its bulbous glans swollen out purple with throbbing hot blood.
“Fumio-san, are you all right?”
“Yes, Mother. I’m fine. Just a little tired, maybe.”
“Well, you look a little ill. Should I get you something to drink?”
“No, really, I’m perfectly all right.”
She got up anyway, and bustled about in the kitchen, coming back in a moment with a glass of cold oolong tea.
“Thank you, Mother.”
She looked at him a little worriedly before returning her attention to the TV. A boy group was on, and the screams of the teenage girls sounded like the whining of a jet plane coming in for a landing.
Fumio glanced at the clock again. At this very moment, Seiko could be in Tatsuya’s arms, their two naked bodies tightly entwined atop the hotel bed, her soft breasts pressing against Tatsuya’s firm chest. As their hot mouths met, Fumio could all but taste a salty kiss on his own lips, and feel a tongue slide deep into his mouth, while down below, Tatsuya’s solid erection was nudging suggestively against his thighs, an invitation for Fumio to spread his legs wide open.
He felt dizzy. “Maybe I do have a little headache after all....”
“Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine. Maybe if I go upstairs and lie down.”
She watched him worriedly as he got to his feet. “Take care, Fumio-san.”
“I will. Please excuse me, Mother.”
He went upstairs to his room, feeling like a thief as he closed the door behind him. For a long moment he just stood there in the dark, waiting for his excitement to die down. He couldn’t help but picture how Seiko’s face always looked during sex…and contrasting it with how Tatsuya’s probably looked: cool, calm, detached.
With trembling fingers he undid the sash of his yukata, shrugged his kimono off, and let it slide down to the floor. Then, loosening his loincloth and pulling it off, he closed his eyes, the better to picture exactly what was happening on the hot
el bed. Slowly he dropped to his knees like a penitent before a holy shrine, and, using both his hands, commenced his ritual oblation, offering himself up to the only god he would ever worship.
30
From his futon Fumio heard the sound of a taxi pulling up outside and glanced at the clock. It was 2:30 and all was quiet in the house. Though he knew he must have fallen asleep, he felt as if he hadn’t slept at all. His mind was still feverish and his stomach all cramped up.
The front door downstairs opened stealthily—but not stealthily enough to escape the ears of Seiko’s mother, who had apparently gotten up to meet her daughter at the door. Fumio could hear the muffled sounds of their voices but not what was said.
Finally Seiko’s footsteps came up the stairs and the bedroom door opened. All the lights were out except for a small lamp beside Fumio’s pillow. He stirred, pretending to come awake.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” whispered Seiko.
“No problem.”
“Mother said you were feeling unwell.”
“It’s nothing. I was just a little tired, that’s all.”
Now that the moment had come, he didn’t know how he should play it: the worldly husband blasé about their open marriage, or the solicitous partner concerned about his wife’s delicate feelings, or the prurient lecher eager to hear all the juicy details.
Seiko clicked on the room light, went straight to her make-up table and began taking off her earrings and necklace. Before the mirror she always became self-absorbed, even with Fumio in the room. It was her one place of solitude and self-communion, where she could shut out the whole world. She slipped off her blouse and began applying cold cream to her face.
After watching her for several minutes, Fumio finally couldn’t take it anymore. “How did everything go?” he whispered.
“All right.” She didn’t seem very eager to discuss it.
“Did you go to the disco?”