It was after midnight when I left the hotel bar to return to my room. There were still a few other members of the convention there, including some friends and fellow-journalists attending from Tokyo, and the evening had become very convivial—enjoyable enough for me to forget my resolution to get an early night. The second day of the conference was to begin at nine sharp, and I had a presentation of my own to make. But in the end I decided that the drink in my hand had to be definitely the last, and made my good-nights. I had already accepted that I should be spending the night alone: there was alas no time to investigate the Osaka nightlife and pick up one of the city’s famously beautiful and sexually inventive girls, and the few young women present at the convention were either not to my taste or were already spoken for.

I left the elevator on the fifth floor and set off down the corridor towards my room. I passed no one till, on turning a corner, I saw a girl standing outside a room a few doors closer than my own.

She was a lot more than averagely good-looking, which, bearing in mind that a girl of average looks in Japan would turn heads in America, meant a great deal. I guessed she was about 1.60 metres, say 5 feet 3 inches, with hair hanging in gentle waves half-way down her back and a pretty oval face with a slightly receding chin and big eyes—at least they seemed big because she was looking at me with a startled, frightened air. Her breasts were firm and large enough to suggest some surgical enhancement, but not unnaturally exaggerated; they were nicely balanced by her hips and a temptingly slender waist, and her legs, even without the benefit of heels, were long and shapely. I was able to take in all these attractive features at a glance because she was completely naked.

She had been knocking ineffectually at the door of her room as I turned the corner in the corridor, but as she became aware of my approach straightened up and faced towards me making the classic gesture of modesty of a Japanese girl taken by surprise, one hand protecting her crotch, the other covering the lower part of her face.

“Good evening,” I said as I came up to her, “is there any way I can help you?”

She said nothing, paralysed by the inappropriateness of the situation in which she found herself.

“Are you locked out of your room?”

Obvious questions with simple answers seemed the best way of putting her at her ease. She lowered the hand covering part of her face and mouthed “Yes.” She would probably have gone on to apologise for the inconvenience she was causing me if I had given her time.

“May I suggest,” I continued, taking care not to sound in the least threatening or aggressive, “that you come to my room for a few minutes while I contact the Reception and ask them to send someone to help you?”

“Oh, but I couldn’t trouble you …” she began.

Since the only alternative was to stay nude in the corridor till staff appeared in the morning that was hardly a considered reply—just a response of automatic Japanese politeness. I decided more automatic exchanges would ease our relationship.

“My name is Bob,” I said with a stiff masculine bow. “How do you do?”

“My name is Akiko,” she replied with a deeper, more graceful feminine bow. “How do you do?”

We were getting on splendidly, I thought. We could have been meeting formally at a conference in her office, or more casually at a reception. On a more normal occasion I might have asked “is that Akiko meaning ‘autumn child’?” and cemented the relationship by asking her to show me how to write the characters.

I took her very lightly by the elbow and guided her along the corridor. For the first time since I arrived in Japan, and started fucking Japanese girls, I was grateful for the Japanese obsession with removing shoes whenever possible. Normally I found myself arguing with Japanese girls about how much more desirable they looked in their high-heels, strutting nude around my apartment or in bed. But as Akiko walked obediently beside me along the hotel’s industrial standard corridor carpet in her bare feet I could not help thinking how a Western girl would be receiving subconscious messages that something was wrong: to a Japanese girl’s mind her lack of shoes no doubt seemed entirely natural.

As we made more automatic conversation—apologies for the inconvenience she was causing me, assurances that she was doing no such thing—my mind was working fast. The gentlemanly thing to do, of course, would be to bring her at once the hotel’s towelling bathrobe which I had noticed hanging in my closet so that she could cover her nakedness while I picked up the phone to the Reception. It would be very ungentlemanly to take advantage of her helpless nudity. But I had always found that in getting what I wanted from girls—and giving them what they wanted—ungentlemanly behaviour, if discreet and subtle, led to the mutually most satisfying results. Of course if she actually asked for something to wear I would bring it for her at once. But if I could distract her from doing so …

I had decided on this plan of action as we reached my door. I smiled down on her as I hunted in my jacket pocket for the key-card. I inserted it in the reader and ushered her into my room. (One of the differences between Japanese and Western hotels is that in the former the room key-cards actually work.)

“Bathroom over there if you need it,” I said.

She smiled gratefully and vanished. While she was gone I arranged the room’s single armchair in the best position for what I had in mind. I pulled off my shirt and kicked off my shoes and socks. I could hear water from the bathroom, then she reappeared with that undefinable air of a girl who has attended to her appearance as best she can. If she was at all surprised to see me partly undressed, she said nothing. It was after all my room and I was a gaijin or Westerner with notoriously unpredictable and incomprehensible habits. As soon as she was settled in the chair I went over to the telephone on the bedside table. Standing so that what I was doing was partly hidden from her, I picked up the receiver; then, instead of pressing 9 for Reception, I held down the bracket where the earphone rested so as to cancel the call. I did my best to look as if I were waiting impatiently for a reply.

“No answer,” I said. “They must have gone off duty for a moment. I’ll try again in a few minutes.”

The only other seat in the room was a small uncomfortable stool by the dressing table, which I had carefully pushed out of sight. I sprawled as elegantly as I could on the floor before her, resting one elbow on the arm of her chair, careful—as yet—not to touch her.

“Are you from Osaka?” I asked.

Another stupid question requiring a simple answer, of course. If you live in a city you are unlikely to stay in a hotel there.

“No, I’m from Tokyo,” she said.

“Oh, so am I!” I said, as if that simple fact created a bond between us. “I’m a writer. I’m here for a convention. And you?”

“Well, I’m an actress. I’m here to make a video.”

“How exciting. What sort of video?”

“It’s a … an adult video … You don’t mind …?”

“But that’s wonderful!” I said hastily before she could start apologising. “I adore Japanese adult videos. I have a big collection. What can I have seen you in? I’m sure you’re very good.”

“Actually, so far I’ve played only very small parts. But I was so happy when my agent called and said he’d got me a main part in a big video being made in Osaka.”

Trying to make it seem a natural response to this exciting news, I scrambled round till I was sitting between her legs, one hand now resting lightly on her knee instead of on the chair-arm.

“Tell me how you came to be locked out of your room.”

“Well, the person I’m sharing with …”

“Boy-friend? Partner?”

I like to be sure about a girl’s situation before I make love to her. A wimpish boy-friend, a junior salaryman say in the company where she worked as an Office Lady, would not deter me, but a lover missing a pinky or two and with a taste for full-body tattoos deserved more respect. That hardly seemed likely, though: yakuza girls tended to go in for bleached hair and trophy body-jewellery. Very stimulating, of course, but Akiko’s style was more wholesome.

“No … a girl, she’s playing the other main part in the video,” so replied, so naturally that she had probably not appreciated the reason for my interest. “We met for the first time in the afternoon, at a conference with the video director. We’re sharing a room, actually,” she went on with an intriguing touch of embarrassment, “it was supposed to be a twin-bed room but there was some mix-up at the hotel and it’s a room with one big bed. The man from the video company said he was very sorry and would we mind accepting it. At least for one night. Of course we didn’t want to make difficulties, and said yes.”

I now had both hands on her thighs, caressing them lightly as I looked up at her face. I had already guessed what was to come. If there were two female stars in this video, then it would undoubtedly include a big lesbian scene. It would not surprise me at all, I thought, if the company had deliberately arranged for the two girls to spend a night in a double-bed together, so they could get to know each other and arrive on set already experienced in each other’s sexual skills.

I do not know what percentage of Japanese women are committed lesbians. I am sure there are statistics: Japan has statistics on everything. But there seems no reason why the proportion should be different from that in Western countries. The number of uncommitted lesbians—girls who are basically heterosexual but enjoy some lesbian contact—must be huge. Japanese girls discover the pleasures of sex through physical contact, stroking and petting, with school-friends. Even when they have moved on to sex with boys those girlish delights continue. Groups of teenaged girls meeting in each other’s homes dare each other to undress and soon morph into heaps of deliciously innocent naked sensuality, perhaps including newcomers being introduced to the harmless joys of multiple sucking, fingering and simple sex-toys inducing pretty orgasms. Any initial embarrassment is soon removed by the typically Japanese, and especially typical female Japanese, reluctance to stand out from what the group is doing. Later, those girls who settle for “respectable” lives with hard-working husbands, PTA meetings and wives’ coffee-mornings in boring “bed-towns” may well be drawn into lesbian relationships, one-on-one or in groups, for lack of other sexual outlets. No one in Japan would think that strange or see it as an exclusive life-style choice. Given the astonishing physical beauty of young Japanese women, and their graceful sexual generosity, it is hardly surprising that other women find them as irresistible as men do.

“And what happened?” I asked gently, already knowing the answer.

“We had something to eat in the coffee-shop, then decided to go to bed as we had an early start. And as soon as we had both undressed—can you guess what happened?”

Of course I could.

“Tell me,” I said softly, my eyes on her face.

“She put her arms round me and kissed me … Of course I was surprised, but I didn’t mind really, I was rather flattered, she is more experienced than me and … Well, it felt nice …”

“And …?”

“Soon we were on the big bed together, and she was doing such lovely things to me, and I was trying hard to do nice things to her in return …”

I leant forward and pressed my face into her lower stomach, my hands now moving up to hold her bottom and pull her closer towards me.

“It was a long time before we finished, and we were really tired. Then, in the middle of the night I woke and needed to go to the bathroom. I could hear her sleeping soundly beside me and I didn’t want to wake her so I slipped out of bed without turning the light on and thought I could find the bathroom … and the next thing I knew I had opened the room door by mistake and there I was in the corridor with the door closed behind me.”

“Where I found you.”

“Yes.”

“Nude.”

“Yes … oh, yes …”

“Yes … yes.”

That was the last thing either of us said for quite a while.

I pulled her towards me till she was lying almost flat on the seat of the chair, and placed one hand firmly under her bottom to stop her wriggling. She held her thighs wide apart for me and I pressed my open mouth hard against her cunt. I could feel her hands on the back of my head as she held me in place. I could not have escaped even if I had wanted to. I ran my tongue along the luscious petals of her pussy, enjoying the rich taste of the love-juice which had been gathering there as her sweet lust mounted. I wanted to tell her how lovely it was but my lips had more urgent things to do—and other ways of showing her how she pleased me.

I reached my spare hand up to fondle her firm breasts, feeling her heart pounding as I did so. Just as an experiment I took one erect nipple between finger and thumb, pinching and twisting it hard. She made no effort to brush my hand away—rather took one hand from the back of my head and placed it over mine, holding it there and willing my torture of her nipple to continue. A vision of her bound and helpless, surrendering to the loving caress of one of my whips, came into my mind. Careful, I thought: just because she enjoys the stimulation of having her nipples pinched and twisted does not necessarily mean she has been fully introduced into the paradise of masochistic orgasm.

I moved the tip of my tongue up to the sweet little clitoris, struggling shyly to erect itself from the hood surrounding it. I had to grip her even more tightly to stop her bouncing away from the extreme stimulation, so longed for and yet so overwhelming. I could hear her gasping and crying for more, unable to express herself in words and yet making herself clear in the way lovers so like to hear. Her tiny love-button stimulated me in return with what felt almost like an electrical charge, as if I had touched the tip of my tongue against a battery. Both hands were clutching my head again now as if she wanted me never to stop, but after a while I managed to move further down her crotch again and dig even deeper into her juicy cunt, slurping up the delicious nectar flowing from that magic source which is waiting to be tapped deep inside every girl’s insatiable love-hole. Her gasping, wordless cries came louder and at last I felt her whole body go rigid, relax for a moment, go rigid again, as it seemed to want to merge with mine in an eternal fusion.

“Oh, that was wonderful!” I said when I was at last able to free my mouth enough to use it for speech.

“Thank you … oh, thank you!” she gasped. “But I’ve done nothing for you! Let me, let me!”

I heaved myself to my feet and quickly removed my trousers and underpants. My cock sprang erect. I helped her to stand too, and at once her hands reached for it.

“Yes! Oh, yes! It’s so big, so beautiful. I must have it! Let me love it!”

Was she being sincere, was she saying what she hoped I wanted to hear, or was she even repeating lines she used in her bit-parts in sex-videos? Of course it did not matter. For Japanese girls there is no difference between what they feel sincerely and what is appropriate to the situation in which they find themselves. That is why they are such wonderful actresses in sex-videos, such sweet whores and such satisfying lovers.

We collapsed onto the floor together and I spread out on my back. Her clever hands began to stroke my cock and balls and soon she was drawing my erection into her mouth. She was an expert cock-sucker—but then all Japanese girls are that. It is one of the first things they learn when they discover their sexuality. It would not be long before I lost control and exploded joyfully into her throat.

“Give me your cunt again!” I begged.

She emptied her mouth long enough to say “Yes! Oh, yes please!”

Then her crotch, still soaking from our earlier love-making, was trembling over my face. I reached up to the chair and managed to drag the seat-cushion down onto the floor and under my head. My arms were round her waist and her thighs were pressed tightly on either side of my face. Her skilful hands and mouth resumed their maddening stimulation of my cock and balls. There is something especially wonderful about making love and being made love to in that position, surely mouths and tongues cannot be better used than in delighting the most sensitive and central parts of the adored partner’s sexuality. A girl’s cunt is just so beautiful, it demands to be kissed and worshipped. I suppose girls feel the same way about a man’s erect cock—certainly they always seem to. Then the wonderful flow of delicious thick love-juice and—if you are lucky—the sudden extra spray squirted into your mouth at the moment of climax … I feel almost ashamed that all I can give my adored partners in exchange is the little mouthful of creamy fuck, but I have never known them complain as they greedily gulp it down. These delicious liquids are almost wasted in cock-to-cunt fucking: the tongue and the mouth and the throat are equipped with the sensory organs to appreciate their luscious beauty.

We came. We came together; and, yes, she was a squirter, bless her, filling my mouth at the supreme moment with a flood of tasty liquid less viscous than the cunt-nectar she had been feeding me till then. As for me, I had not had a girl since the previous evening and my balls were well primed with the thick cream that girls love so much.

At last we were lying face-to-face again in each other’s arms, our hands telling each other how much we had relished the pleasure given and received.

“What’s your favourite fantasy, Bob-san?” she asked suddenly with a cute smile.

That was easy to answer.

“Meeting a very sexy and completely nude girl lost in a hotel corridor,” I said, “and fucking her non-stop all night. What’s yours?”

She giggled charmingly.

“You won’t be shocked?”

“Of course not! Tell me. I told you mine.”

“Well, when I masturbate I sometimes dream of being the only girl in a group of fifteen or twenty men, completely nude and being fucked non-stop all night.”

“One not enough for you?” I asked, giving her a friendly spank on her bottom.

“To begin with,” she said, “but then … Do you think my fantasy can ever come true?”

“I don’t see why not. Mine just did.”

“Ooh …”

“When we get back to Tokyo,” I continued, “assuming of course you still want to know me then, I’ll invite you to my apartment where you can be nude with fifteen or twenty of my friends. And I guarantee they—we—will fuck you non-stop all night.”

“Will you really? How wonderful. I’ve always wanted to do that. Have that done to me, I mean.”

“Promise.” I decided to take the risk of exploring the hint of submission in those last words. “And not just fucking—I have a big collection of … tools … devices for giving girls very special pleasure.”

She said nothing, but she gasped and I could feel her heart beating fast. Our gentle touching and stroking was becoming more insistent. We were both getting ready for the next fuck. Thinking about my fantasy, and how it had so far become reality, was pushing one part of my mind into speculation about Part Two: the part I had not so far mentioned. Should I take the gamble or not? Here was a beautiful and willing girl in my arms, and my next fuck was certain. All I had to do was help myself. On the other hand something even more exciting might just be within reach. I decided to risk it.

“What about your friend? Won’t she be worried about you?”

“Yes, I suppose she is.”

“Why don’t you … let’s not bother about calling the Reception for help … why don’t you call your room and see if she’s awake? You could ask her to open the door for you.”

“All right.”

I helped her to her feet and, arms round each other, we went over to the telephone. She called a number and it was answered at once.

“Oh, Reiko-san, I’m sorry. It’s me, Akiko, I’m so sorry. I’m locked out, please will you let me in?”

There was a rapid squawking from the other end which included “what happened?” and “I’ve been so worried about you.”

“I’m coming now,” said Akiko, and hung up.

“Well …” she said, looking at me.

“I’ll come with you,” I said.

That after all was an essential part of my fantasy Part Two.

She looked at me, her eyes dancing with merriment.

“That would make two of us locked out of our rooms, nude,” she said.

For answer I opened the closet and pulled on the towelling robe waiting there. I did not bother to tie the belt, but carefully stored the key-card in the pocket as I took it from the slot controlling the lights and opened the door. We stepped into the corridor together. Just a few doors down an anxious face was peering out towards us. There was a whispered exchange of apologies and reassurances, in the course of which I was briefly introduced. For a little while it seemed likely that the door would slam shut behind Reiko, leaving me with two deliciously nude girls to look after, but at the last moment they moved back inside. I followed without waiting to be invited. The room was identical in lay-out to my own; feeling somewhat overdressed I slipped off my robe and dropped it on the armchair.

“You poor darling, you must be exhausted,” Reiko was saying—to Akiko, not to me.

“I’m all right. Bob-san has been looking after me.”

“Yes, I can see a girl who has been well looked after,” Reiko responded with a steely glint in her eye. “Go and have a wash and then let me take care of you.”

Akiko disappeared and the two of us looked each other over. I did my best to resemble a benevolent uncle—if a naked man in his forties with an enormous erection can ever look benevolent. Reiko was a couple of centimetres shorter than Akiko and stockier: instead of Akiko’s graceful beauty she had a trim, exercised body whose well-toned fitness I very much wanted her to demonstrate in my company. Just at the moment there seemed little prospect of that.

“I am in love with Akiko,” she said at last.

“So am I in love with Akiko,” I replied.

“You can’t be. You’ve only just met.”

“So have you only just met.”

“I am not prepared to share her with a man.”

“I am very willing to share her with another girl. In fact I’m looking forward very much to doing that.”

There was a pause.

“For a man you are not stupid.”

“I understand you are preparing a big lesbian scene in the video you are making.”

“Oh, she told you about that, did she?” She hadn’t, of course, but it was an obvious guess. “We’re both looking forward to it very much indeed.”

“I’m looking forward to watching the video. Very much.”

Akiko came out of the bathroom, still charmingly nude and with an air of saintly innocence. She joined us and put her arms round us both.

“I love Akiko much more than you do,” said Reiko.

“I love you both just the same,” said Akiko.

“I’m sure I’ll love Reiko as much as I love Akiko,” I said.

So that was all clear. Akiko moved a step away from us and her hands reached for my cock.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful!” she said, “and so big!”

Reiko said nothing. It was clearly my turn.

“I want Reiko to sit on my face,” I said, “so I can find out if she tastes as delicious as Akiko does.”

“And I want this in my cunt,” said Akiko quickly before Reiko could have her turn, “so I can find out how lovely it feels.”

“Haven’t you done that already?” asked Reiko with the air of a schoolmistress criticising the non-arrival of homework. “What have you two been doing together all this time?”

“Oh, sucking each other,” said Akiko innocently. “It was lovely. Bob is very good. And he came beautifully in my mouth.”

I began to urge the girls towards the bed. They were soon kneeling facing each other and before they could exclude me I pushed myself between them and lay back luxuriously. I could feel Akiko preparing to take command of my erection. Reiko clearly had no intention of being a spectator as her beloved and I renewed our passionate coupling. Soon my vision was blacked out, her crotch descending onto my face and wriggling into position as her muscular thighs gripped my head the way I love a Japanese girl’s thighs to do. I held her waist and pulled her onto me, but more because that is what I do when a girl sits on my face than because it was necessary to hold her in position. I curled my tongue and entered her as hard as I could. She did not taste as delicious as Akiko, just different: as all men surely know, every girl is unique—just as every man’s cum has a special flavour, or so girls say. I felt Akiko begin to impale herself on my cock, as the two girls embraced and hugged and kissed above me, turning our love-making into a pyramid of blissful lust.

Fantasies do come true sometimes—both parts of them.