Behind closed doors, lots of guys enjoy sharing their wives/girlfriends. As a single white American, I'd been fairly lucky in my years living in Japan. I met quite a few Japanese as well as foreign couples who have included me in sexual get-togethers. I'm definitely not a male model, just a regular schmo. But I was always gracious, polite and charming. I made it a rule to always be respectful and reliable. Evidently many solo guys didn't get that, and thus I'd been able to enjoy a bit of sure-thing, no-strings-attached sex with other guys' ladies. I never had any difficulty rising to each occasion in front of a male "audience." Indeed I'd grown to crave the complete devolution of a girl's society-built morals down to her base carnal desires.
Up until now, I've always been a "service provider," fucking other guys' girls. This is the story of the first time I switched things around and enjoyed providing
my
girl to other guys.
First, let me describe Junko. She's Japanese of course. At 33 years old, she was a couple of years younger than me. She studied in NYC for a year, and lived in Seattle for another year. Her English ability was damn near fluent. Standing a petite 5'2", Junko wasn't gorgeous but definitely could be considered cute. However, she was not rail-thin like many Japanese girls are. Junko was what some might say "big boned". I wouldn't say she was fat (though she had said she was sometimes insulted as fat by other Japanese women). Rather, she was plump. And Junko had one of those female pot bellies. Though I of course love thin curvy women, during the heat of passion I quite enjoyed all of her flesh. If anything bothered me it was the lack of protruding ass (common for most Asian women).
While she wasn't shy with sex, Junko was extremely self-conscious about her body. Fucking (as well as showers & baths) always took place in almost complete darkness! She finally compromised some when I got a few of those electric candles. But the inevitable morning sex in the morning daylight always caused her to clam up, sulk, and just lie there waiting for me to cum. Later, after she getting dressed, she jokingly called it her "morning rape," but she wasn't angry and didn't ever complain.
Fortunately she had an amazing set of knockers. They were D-sized tits (exceedingly rare in Japan) that fully made up for the belly. The dark brown aureola weren't obnoxiously large, as they can sometimes be on natural big tits. Junko had a great rack, and often wore outfits that showed off her cleavage.
Oh and she had a nice little bald pussy. It was neither shaved nor waxed. She had had it lasered. So it was always just as smooth, silky and unblemished as her inner thighs... heaven! I'd spent hours exploring with my tongue her smooth folds (she didn't have much by way of external labia) as well as her little clit.
My story starts with some the "sexy talk" Junko and I often engaged in as we slow fucked one night. I had asked about her wildest experience. She told me about a time she stayed over at a college boyfriend's dorm room. After he left for early morning soccer practice, his roommate seduced her and she went with it. I thought she was leading up to her getting double-teamed, but unfortunately that hadn't happened. I tried pushing to see if she wished a threesome had happened, but she didn't want to dwell on the past relationship.
Instead she asked about my wildest sex, and I went ahead and told her about my hobby. She was of course pretty shocked to hear I'd had so many experiences as a "bull" and they were all so recent. After her college story, she had assumed we were still talking about youthful indiscretions. I assured her I most definitely hadn't played around in the eight months we had known each other.
In subsequent fuck sessions she kept asking for more details. Obviously Junko had been thinking about things! With a voice of disgust, she asked why guys would like it and why girls would let it happen. I explained by describing specific examples of play sessions I'd experienced. Junko persisted with her displays of shock and disgust, but her pussy showed otherwise. She became so extremely wet that I needed to put a bath towel under her as we fucked. I knew the idea of her taking more than one cock turned her on. Her sly smile indicated she knew that I knew.
Soon after that time, Junko screwed up and lost two tickets for a sold out jazz concert that I had bought for us. Those tickets weren't cheap, and I was actually quite peeved with her.
So during the eventual make-up sex, I told her that her penalty for losing the tickets was to be a Sunday afternoon in a love hotel with me and another guy. At first she thought I was joking. Then she feigned shock and tried to refuse. But with a little bit of mind manipulation, I finally got Junko to resign and accept her sentence. Her juicing pussy betrayed her true feelings though.
I never involved any regular friends in my "alternative" activities. So instead, I contacted a horn-dog buddy who was in the US Navy, based nearby in Yokosuka. John had a passing resemblance to Tiger Woods: he was black with a little bit of Asian blood in him. We'd met a few years past when a swinging couple held a gangbang party. And since then we contacted each other whenever one of us came across a couple looking for group action.
John and I chatted for a while about the last time we'd met: nine months past a middle-aged Japanese guy wanted to watch from the corner of a hotel room while his younger wife got tag-teamed and cream-pied by a black guy and a white guy. I joked to John that she might be having our baby right about now! I admitted that I hadn't partied since that time, and John told me about a wild gang bang that he and a fellow sailor had stumbled upon at some nude beach a couple hours west of Tokyo. From his account, John's friend seemed cool.
I then got to the point and filled him in about Junko. John of course immediately accepted the invitation. Without any thought, I found myself asking John to see about bringing his buddy along. I probably shouldn't have done that. For newbie girls, there's a pretty big difference between a relatively intimate threesome and a full on foursome gang bang.
I told John I'd nail down a date as soon as I can find a Sunday when Junko was free, not on the rag, and not at the ovulation stage of her cycle.
That Sunday would be three weeks later. I arranged to meet John and his friend, Phil, near Shinjuku Station at 12:30pm. We'd then stop at a nearby convenience store to buy drinks and snacks for our hotel room party, in time to meet Junko at 1pm.
Of course the Navy boys were late in arriving. John's previous flat top hair was now a uniformly short trim. He flashed a big smile and introduced his buddy. Phil was a tall and lanky white guy with sandy brown hair and a bit of chin stubble. He had on a green t-shirt, and John called him Shaggy from Scooby-do. He really looked like him too. We managed to get the shopping done before Junko's arrival.
Precisely at 1pm Junko came walking up to the appointed street corner. She had on big "Jackie O" sunglasses that obscured much of her face. She was pretty fashionable. I introduced her to John and Phil, who greeted her politely. She was friendly, but a bit confused as to why there was an additional guy. I told her in Japanese not to worry about it. She gave my arm a half-hearted swat. I took that to mean she wasn't too miffed at the sudden increase in the size of the party.
The four of us then joined the throngs of people walking in Shinjuku on a bright Sunday afternoon. We made a couple of turns, and after making a left down a side street, lo-and-behold we were suddenly in the red light district. By day you would never know it though. Shops and bars were all shuttered tight. The only indication as to the type of neighborhood were the love hotels.
Japanese tend to live in thin walled houses with multi-generational families, and don't often move out after graduation. So sexy time is not possible at home. Instead "love hotels" have evolved. The can be rented for the night, or merely for a few hours. They are very discreet and kept immaculately clean (otherwise prim and proper Japanese ladies wouldn't visit). The point with love hotels is sex, be it vanilla or freaky. So rooms are sound proofed. And any noises of passion that escape a room aren't a concern as they would be at a regular hotel with families walking by in the corridors. Another major difference with love hotels is that once you're locked into your room, you can't leave until you you've paid in full for the time spent (there's even a payment machine inside the hotel rooms right by the exit!).
The various love hotels in this neighborhood had discreet signs and even more discreet entryways. Most of them only admit hetero couples (no gay couples or groups). But I had researched online those which do allow groups. Having prepared using the wonders of Streetview, I knew immediately where to go. I pointed the entrance out. Junko and I went in first, with John and Phil following closely behind. Just inside the little lobby was a display screen showing which rooms were currently available. I quickly selected a room that was right on the 1st floor, just off to the side of the display. I ushered Junko toward the room and we all dashed in before any staff could raise any question.
We all shuffled into the room taking off our shoes at the entryway. With the door clicked locked, the thrill of success coursed through my veins. I could only imagine what Junko might have had going on in her mind.
We walked into the main room and I closed the interior door that divided the entryway to the main room. Smart idea that; since it helped to keep noise from escaping out into the hall.
Everyone was understandably nervous about how to proceed. So we opened the shopping bag, took out beers, popped 'em open and said a quick "kampai."
Junko and I had the sofa. The two guys sat on the bed. Junko was laughing with Phil after finding out that they had both lived within blocks of each other during her time in Seattle. John also seemed to know the city well, and joined their chat while not-so-subtly checking out Junko's cleavage.
I wanted to check out our digs. The main room had a bed, a sofa, a flatscreen TV, a stereo and of all things: a slot machine! The room was windowless, and there were two doors. One led to the entryway from which we had all come. I got up to check out the other door. It led to a sink/vanity area. A big mirror was rimmed with bright lights, resembling a mirror that makeup artists in the entertainment world use. On the sink counter were all the various amenities found in regular hotels, plus a mini-bottle of lube and four condoms!
On the left was a narrow door to the toilet (in Japan the toilet is often in a room totally separate from the bath room). To the right of the vanity was a sliding glass door to the shower/bath, which was much larger than in a regular hotel: the bathtub could accommodate 2 people, had jets and even mood lighting inside the tub! Outside the tub, the shower area was quite spacious too. I turned on the hot water to start filling the tub, since I didn't know how long it'd take to fill. It was all electronic, and had a sensor to stop the hot water once it was appropriately filled.
I then went back into the main room. Junko seemed to be comfortable chatting away with the guys. The beer was making her face glow with a pinkish hue. I joined the conversation, now about the differences between music festivals in Japan and the US. It continued for a few more minutes before petering out to one of those times when everyone gets quiet.
I spoke up. "So Junko, why don't you take a shower first?"
