by Li, Augusta
Alan grinned. Graham had always been a little shy; it was adorable. “Traditionally, it’s done that way,” he said, looking over his shoulder to see his lover blushing with his robes hanging off his shoulders. Graham held his waistband tight. He was just so cute. He even averted his eyes from Alan’s nudity, though they’d been sleeping together for almost a year.
“The Japanese don’t associate shame with nudity like Western cultures do,” Alan explained, “and besides, there’s nobody here but us.”
“I know,” Graham said, “but I’ve been raised to believe you don’t go bare-ass naked in a public place. I can’t help it.”
“You need to relax.” The inn staff had left a tray of watermelon, berries, plums and sake on a flat rock. Alan filled one of the small cups and pressed it into Graham’s hand. “We both know you have nothing to be ashamed of,” Alan said with a smirk.
Graham blushed deeper and finished his drink in one gulp. “I’m just not used to this.”
“There’s nobody here,” Alan repeated, petting the side of Graham’s hair and touching the apple of his flushed cheek. “Just us.”
Eyes fluttering shut and lips parting, Graham nodded. Alan took his face in both hands. He rubbed the tip of his nose against Graham’s nose, feeling Graham’s hot and quickening breath against his lips and chin. His tongue flitted out, swiping Graham’s upper lip. Alan took the empty vessel from Graham’s fingers and drew Graham’s lip between his teeth, sucking it and lapping at it with the tip of his tongue. It was slippery-soft and hotter than the steam rising from the bath. Then Alan dropped to his knees and set the cup down. His hands skimmed down the front of Graham’s light, cotton garment, coming to rest on Graham’s hipbones. Alan took the end of Graham’s sash between his teeth and tugged. The knot came loose and Graham’s yukata fell open, giving Alan a look at his beautiful, uncut cock. Alan trembled, and his fist balled around the fabric he held. He let the sash fall from his mouth so that he could kiss the V of his lover’s toned stomach. Graham’s breath shuddered, and Alan’s cock twitched.
It took little to brush the yukata the rest of the way off of Graham’s body. It fell in a pastel crescent around his feet.
“Come on,” Alan breathed, his hands again finding their way to Graham’s hips. He held tight, walking backward on his knees and drawing Graham toward him. He felt the lip of the pool and carefully maneuvered himself into the water. Heat enveloped him to the waist. Alan moved backward with a swoosh, and Graham’s foot broke the surface. Watching through a blurry curtain of mist, Alan let Graham ease himself into the hot spring. Graham dipped his head below the surface, and emerged dripping and pink with warmth.
“This feels amazing,” Graham said, pushing his wet fringe out of his eyes. Alan watched the muscles of his arm and chest twinkle in the amber light. The mist rising from the water leant a surreal quality to everything as the two of them waded toward the rock tower at the center of the pool. Their bodies left shining trails of interlocking ripples behind them.
Alan leaned against the stone. The back of his head found an indent to rest in, and he watched Graham floating through the water toward him. Graham’s hands closed around the muscles of Alan’s waist just as his lips pinched the muscle on the side of Alan’s neck. Alan groaned with pleasure, digging his fingers into Graham’s thick hair. But then he wriggled free from Graham with a giggle, and darted to the other side of the rock, where he crouched in a shadow.
“Come and get me,” Alan called.
Alan heard the slush of the water as Graham moved toward him and, unable to suppress a chuckle, he leaned forward and swam to the boulders on the far side of the pool. An ancient, twisted pine tree rained needles into the water and afforded Alan a dark pocket in which to hide. He crouched there, submerged almost to his nose, as he watched Graham splashing across the spring.
“Alan?” Graham called.
Alan bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. The branch of the tree he hid beneath extended two feet in front of him, and the boughs shielded him completely. Graham looked left and right, moving from one circle of illumination to the next. Eventually Alan grew bored of the game and slapped the water’s surface. Graham’s head turned in his direction.
“Why you little—” Graham flattened his body and breast-stroked though the water, dipping beneath it to avoid the tree branch. He breached the surface only inches from Alan’s chest, a wicked grin on his face. “Got you now.”
He seized Alan around the middle, spinning him backward and pulling him to the rocky edge of the pool. He hoisted Alan up, exposing his ass to the cooler night air. The rocks scraped Alan’s chest, but he was intrigued and wondered what Graham was planning, so he played along, spreading his arms over the stone and seeking a place to grip. To his surprise, Graham’s wet hand made contact with Alan’s wet butt, the slap resounding in the stillness. It stung like crazy, but it sent a jolt of arousal all through Alan.
“Cheeky little tart,” Graham said, slapping Alan’s cheek again. “Hide and seek, is it? Well, I found you.” He proceeded to spank Alan soundly, his moist palm soon setting Alan’s slender ass on fire. Alan held tight to the rocks as Graham smacked his ass. He laid his cheek beside his thumb as he endured the numbing hurt. The sound of wet flesh meeting wet flesh echoed in the quiet night. Alan grunted with each blow. He knew his skin must be as red as the lanterns decorating the town square.
When it became too much, less a kinky turn-on than actual pain, Alan lifted his head, turned to Graham and said, “Whoa, okay. I’ve learned my lesson.”
Graham’s hand stopped mid-strike and stroked the back of Alan’s head. His fingertips moved down Alan’s spine to the enflamed skin of his butt. He skimmed it gingerly, the gentle sensation exquisite to Alan’s sensitized skin.
“You all right?” Graham asked, continuing to pet the backs of Alan’s thighs.
“Oh, yeah.” Alan heaved himself up on the edge of the rock and turned to sit with his legs spread. The water lapped softly against his knees, and his erection pointed out from his triangle of sparse black hair. Graham looked at it with a hungry smile, as his hands moved up Alan’s legs, stopping where they met Alan’s body. Alan didn’t need to see below the surface of the pool to notice Graham’s arousal; it was painted all over his face, and in the focused expression of his eyes. Alan leaned forward and rested his elbows on Graham’s shoulders. Graham stretched his neck toward Alan, and they kissed. As their tongues intertwined and poked against each other, Alan felt his excitement building at the base of his body. A milky marble of pre-come budded from the tip of his cock and ran down its length. Graham kissed him deeper, his lips smashed flat against Alan’s face. He squeezed Alan’s thighs and moved closer. His chest grazed the tip of Alan’s dick, and the sensation shot through Alan like lightning as he lapped the underside of Graham’s tongue.
Alan could barely breathe. He felt his muscles contract, his balls tightening and his anus spasming. He couldn’t believe he was about to come, but the orgasm boiled below the surface, the same as the hot water bubbled up from the earth.
Breaking away from Graham’s mouth, Alan panted, “Graham! God, I’m about to— I’m going to—”
Understanding flashed in Graham’s eyes and in a second his lips had closed around Alan’s purpled, leaking head. He drove his mouth down on it. Alan threw his head back as he felt his body breach Graham’s tight throat. He fought the urge to drive in, desperate to prolong the exquisite sensation, at least for a few moments. He felt caught in a whirlpool of pleasure, and he gripped Graham’s muscular shoulders. Taking quick, gulping breaths, he struggled to ground himself, but he had no more control than a leaf carried away by a strong current. Graham bobbed slowly and with maddening calm. With a whimper, Alan came hard, his whole body shaking violently.
“Oh, gods! Oh gods,” Alan stammered as Graham summoned burst after burst of come from his body. His legs twitched, churning the water around them to foam. Graham’s tongue caressed the belly of Alan’s dick unt
il Alan begged for respite.
Finally Graham stepped away and mopped his top, then his bottom lips with his tongue. All of Alan’s muscles felt liquefied. The condensation from the steam mingled with his sweat, coating his heated body in a sparkling sheen. Slowly, as his reason returned to him, Alan wondered what had set him off so quickly. Graham was a fabulous lover, and they always had great sex, but Alan hadn’t blown his load from a few slaps on the ass and a passionate kiss since he’d been a teenager. No, not even then. He felt a little embarrassed.
“Graham, I’m so sorry,” he said, watching some curled leaves float past. “I don’t know why that happened.”
“Alan, that was amazing,” Graham said, to Alan’s surprise. “The way you reacted to me. It was so hot, I almost came myself.”
“I guess I just— I just really love you, Graham. Gods, you turn me on. Your body, your mouth. That sexy fucking accent—”
Alan thought for a second, and his eyes narrowed. “Did you call me a cheeky tart?”
Graham smirked and looked down at his navel. “I may have said something like that. In the heat of the moment, mind you.”
“Uh-huh.” Alan slid back into the water, barely disturbing it. He stood with his tummy brushing Graham’s. “Happy anniversary, Graham.”
“And you, love. Thank you for all of this. No one has done anything like this for me in such a long time.”
“Do you remember last year?” Alan whispered next to Graham’s wet, shaggy locks. “A few days before Halloween? You were sketching out in the backyard, and I think I was reading a book. You showed me the carvings on your walnut tree, and then you gave me that amazing head under its branches?”
“Of course I remember.”
“Do you remember what happened next?”
“Hmm?”
Alan recalled the sweet torment of his early courtship with Graham. “Gods, I wanted you so badly! Do you remember me begging you to make love to me? To be inside me?”
“You don’t have to beg anymore,” Graham said, kneading Alan’s ass cheek. “Unless you want to.”
“Please,” Alan said with a hint of humor, but mostly aching with need. “Please. Let’s go back to our room now.”
* * * *
Half a dozen free-standing, rectangular lanterns had been lit in the room when Graham and Alan returned. The staff had spread their futon mats and blankets on the floor near the balcony, where they could enjoy the breeze. The old flower arrangements had been replaced with drooping boughs of white blossoms and sprigs of green berries. Their fragrances filled the space.
Graham and Alan knelt facing each other, their bodies casting long shadows across the tatami mats. Their hands moved languidly up one another’s sides, arms and legs, taking time to explore soft skin and the taut muscle beneath. They kissed slowly, savoring each other’s swollen lips, tasting one another. Alan’s fervor had been spent, and while desire still brewed within him, it was like a steady rain rather than a tempest. He wanted to take all the time he could with the man he loved. His fingers ruffled the patch of fair hair over Graham’s heart, then moved to circle his hard little nipple. Graham exhaled deep contentment, his tongue pulsing against the roof of Alan’s mouth.
Alan’s fingers followed the downy trail of hair from Graham’s chest to his belly. He scratched lightly at the top of Graham’s pubes. Below his hand, Graham’s cock waited, semi-erect. Alan touched the raised veins along the shaft before moving to the crown. Still fascinated with Graham’s foreskin, he pushed it back and forth, hiding and revealing Graham’s blood-swollen head and massaging it to arousal. In no time it had swelled to the size of a young plum, and strands of fluid shone gold in the light of the lanterns. The lubrication allowed Alan to stroke his lover slowly. He watched Graham’s handsome features pinching in ecstasy, and his opposite hand pushed Graham’s hair back for a better view of his face.
“I love you,” Alan said, overwhelmed with emotion. “Gods, I don’t even know how to tell you how much.”
Graham’s blue eyes opened and held Alan’s attention like nothing else existed in the universe. “I know,” he said. “And I love you, too, Alan. I want you so badly. Let me make love to you.”
“Lie back.”
Graham did as he was told, lowering himself to the floor and propping himself on his elbows. His gaze never left Alan as Alan pressed his knees down, flattening his legs. He found a jar of massage oil provided by the inn and twisted off the jewel-like lid. The liquid caught the orange light as he poured it into his palm, making it seem almost molten. It smelled of juniper, lychee, and lotus. Hovering a foot over Graham, his knees beside Graham’s hips, Alan smeared the oil on his balls, accentuating the seam between them. He reached behind them and slathered his crack with the handful of lubricant. Some of it dripped down onto Graham, gilding his pubic hair.
Alan rubbed two fingers back and forth along his opening, never breaking the contact with Graham’s eyes. Below him, Graham laid still, a rapt expression on his face—content, for now, to watch. Alan spread his legs a little farther and reached behind himself. His fingertip teased his hole and slid inside. He groaned at the penetration, and he felt a sprinkle of sweat above his lips.
“My God,” Graham said. “My God, that’s hot. God, you’re beautiful.”
With a groan, Alan pushed his finger inside his body to the knuckle. He added a second while he drizzled some more of the oil on Graham’s cock. He saw Graham’s patience cracking, Graham’s fists balling and his teeth denting his lower lip. Smiling, Alan pressed into himself slowly and deeply, subjecting his lover to more of the delicious frustration.
“You want me?” Alan panted, his hand buried within his body, the pressure on his gland making him dribble.
Covered in perspiration, Graham looked like a bronze statue, his face a mask of sweet agony. “Need you,” he managed.
Alan eased his fingers out of his anus and gripped Graham’s thick cock at the base. He held it as he positioned himself above it. When the come-slicked tip pressed against his hole, he eased himself down. Graham’s hard shaft parted his flesh and speared into him. Both men moaned as one.
Lowering himself slowly, Alan adjusted to the cleaved-open feeling until his discomfort ebbed. Graham’s hands closed around his hips, moving him in tight circles. “I love to feel you inside me,” Alan said. His returned erection smacked against Graham’s toned stomach, but he refused to come until he’d satisfied his partner.
“Love to be inside you,” Graham mumbled, his eyes crinkled up. “Love you. Love you, Alan.”
They picked up speed, Graham thrusting up into Alan as Alan drove down. Skin smacked against skin. The scent of sex and perspiring flesh drowned out the smell of the flowers. To Alan, it was sweeter by far, and drove further into a frenzy of passion. He fell forward and braced his hands beside Graham’s head, riding Graham furiously, loving the look of pleasure on Graham’s face.
“Yes, don’t stop,” Graham panted.
Though his legs ached from exertion and his ass burned from the delectable friction, Alan bounced against Graham until he could barely breathe. Sweat splashed against Graham’s chest and torso.
“Alan! Alan!” Graham breathed. His arms closed behind Alan’s shoulder blades, slamming their chests together.
Exhausted, Alan wriggled his hand between their moist bodies and let Graham take over. He took hold of his penis and twisted his palm around the head. With a loud cry Graham came inside of him, and his semen eased the continued thrusting. Graham didn’t show any signs of stopping, and that was fine with Alan, though his opening felt puffy and sore. The head of Graham’s cock stayed rigid enough to stimulate Alan’s prostate, and that, along with the jerking of his fist, helped him to completion. He shot against Graham, filling his belly button. Then he collapsed, completely spent and never more satisfied.
Shifting, Graham left Alan’s body. Alan’s flesh pulsed and burned. His heart hammered against his ribs. Come seeped out of his body and squished between h
imself and Graham. Alan breathed in the smell of their passion. He was so happy and so in love.
“You. You’re just amazing,” Graham told him, touching his back. “Have I told you that I love you?”
“You can tell me again,” Alan muttered dreamily.
“Okay. I love you. Are you going to sleep?”
Surprisingly, Alan wasn’t tired. He felt energized and acute. To make sure he wouldn’t impose upon Graham, he asked, “You tired?”
“Actually no. I feel great.”
“Up for some adventure?” Alan asked.
“How so?”
“I just want to go down to the village,” Alan explained. “I’m sure the O-Bon festivities are still going on. From everything I’ve read, they carry on into the night. On the first night of the celebration, people clean the gravesites and welcome the spirits of their ancestors back. I’d really like to see that. When will we have another chance?”
“Your friend said not to,” Graham reminded him.
Alan snorted. “I doubt it means anything. These are country people. Superstitious. Probably afraid of fox spirits and the like.”
“You think Professor Harada believes in rural superstition?” Graham asked.
“Maybe,” Alan said. “Don’t you think he seemed a little insane?”
Graham beamed at Alan’s statement. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
Chapter Two
Nothing stirred in Inaba as Graham and Alan wandered the streets. Food and souvenir stands had been abandoned, and not a single soul remained out of doors. All of the lanterns, meant to guide the ancestral spirits home, had been extinguished. The village appeared completely abandoned.
“What time is it?” Graham asked, feeling uneasy and thus speaking softly.
Alan looked at his cell phone. “Almost eleven,” he replied. “Early. Too early. This is really odd, to say the least.”
“Didn’t we see a little tavern?” Graham asked, looking around to get his bearings. “That place that sold the chicken skewers? They’ll be open, at least.” Inaba was a tiny village, but Graham had passed through it only once, and now, in the dark, he couldn’t remember the relation of the buildings to each other. Most of the houses lining the dirt roads were small, quaint, and built of unpainted wood. One or two stories high, they all looked quite similar to each other. Strangest of all, not a single light, nor the blue flicker of a television, illuminated the paper screens.