Rob (never Bob) smiled brightly as he watched Hiroko fellate him. Her small, delicate Japanese features seemed even smaller with his cock in her mouth. Her lips parted wide and her tongue circled his mushroom shaped head over and over again. Her small hand covered just a little more than half of his length. When she moved her hand and sucked deep, she could only get his cock about halfway down his throat. Rob didn't mind. She was trying hard, to be sure.
Now, what could be better than extra effort during a blowjob or the sexy as hell visual of a cute little Japanese girl eye fucking him as she sucked his cock? Could anything be better that that?
The answer is actually a resounding yes. Rob was getting paid, handsomely, to get head like this.
How did he come to this place, you ask? How can I get in on this deal?
Well, if you asked Rob Racer, American Gigolo, (his working name) he would tell you he is just lucky. It's the damn truth.
It all started five long years ago, when Rob was not yet old enough to drink. For the last two months, he had been stationed in Okinawa, Japan. It was a great place to be stationed for the Marine Corps, a pretty little island about two hundred and fifty miles to the southwest of mainland Japan, where Rob currently operates.
Robert R. Redford (yes, his real name--no relation to the actor; see why he uses the working name?) was 20 years young and an infantryman in the corps. Rob had been assigned to a combat unit until he injured his ankle so severely that he was rendered unable to train for more than a year and a half. They had transferred him to a headquarters unit afterwards, where they liked the quiet and private young man who limped stoically silently as he healed. After he healed from the injury, they had meritoriously promoted him to keep him with them. He made Corporal after 2 ½ years and was planning to re-enlist in the service until his time in Okinawa, where his life took a turn for the surreal.
As it was only a six month rotation, Okinawa was supposed to represent nothing more than a little pit stop for Rob. He would likely re-enlist 2 months after he was due to get back to Camp Pendleton, CA. Rob planned to pass the six months in the gym, saving the extra money he made from being overseas. Once back in Cali, Rob wanted to buy a new car --with cash--and he already had half of the needed amount saved. The future seemed simple and uncomplicated to Rob. Young people never realize life is rarely that simple.
After two months on the island, only one thing was amiss in his young life. Rob was horny, and it was an itch he couldn't scratch. In Okinawa, the serious lack of tail he would encounter was unprecedented. The American single male to single female ratio in Okinawa was literally 500:1. Rob thought he might as well try to shoot the stars with a rifle for all the chances he had at American tail here.
Compounding the problem was the fact that he was only on island for 6 months. For the local girls, this was an unattractive prospect. As soon as they found out he was short timing on the island, they wanted nothing more to do with him, looks and charm be damned. His chances of getting any nookie seemed impossible.
Rob was a good looking guy mind you. A really good looking guy. Back in the states, even in his hometown in BFE South Dakota, Rob had no problem getting dates or pussy. He was 5'9" and with light blue eyes that were gorgeous to look at. Any woman could lose herself in those baby blues when not careful. He had a big smile and dimples that contrasted with angular features and a slightly broad face. Rob had that 'All-American Man' kind of look.
Rob has medium brown hair which is not super important at the moment because it is cut close and short per regulations. Later, when he grows it out, it becomes that pretty, wavy kind of hair women just love to run their fingers through.
When Rob walked into a room, people looked. Most women and some men would just plain stare if he fit their idea of attractive. He had even caught a few Marines, guys, fucking him with their eyes. His looks often made him just a little awkward around people, but he was getting more accustomed to it and maturing with age. Mostly, he did not like being stared at.
Enhancing his natural good looks was the fact that Rob was ripped. Unable to run or play sports for more than a year because of his ankle injury, he spent a lot of time in the gym staying in shape to maintain his weight standards for Corps. A defined six pack and thick muscular legs were features women always talked about when not around him.
Knowing he was good looking and the advantage this gave him over other guys, Rob preferred to play the field alone, a 'solo hunter' as he thought of it. He would not hang with his Marine buddies when he wanted to get laid, even back in the States; he didn't like the competition. In Okinawa, this had a serious consequence. Being unable to speak Japanese hindered his efforts to try and talk to some of the prettier local girls.
The first 7 weeks of the six months were sexless. Jerking off was getting boring and it was actually hard to find a little privacy in his barracks. Then, on a failed return trip from a city up north, he overheard a few guys on the bus talking about the local prostitute scene. He asked them a few questions which they answered. Luckily, they were not from his unit so they did not know him.
Rob had never had to pay for sex in his life, had never even seriously considered the idea...but these were desperate times. Besides, the idea kind of excited him the more he thought it over. As long as she was cute...
Later that night he did his research on the internet and found out about the 'soapland' bathhouse girls. In Okinawa or Japan, instead of getting a streetwalking girl or going to a brothel, you went to a bathhouse or massage parlor, Rob learned. It wasn't totally legal--if he got busted, he could get in trouble both by local police and the military police--but the act of getting there wasn't so hard to do apparently. All you really needed was a willing taxi cab.
Cabs were great in Okinawa. You could smoke and drink in the back as long as you asked and didn't get rowdy or stupid. Most of the drivers could barely speak English, so you could talk more or less freely with your friends about anything. Apparently, you could even ask them to take you to 'soapland'.
Screwing up his courage, Rob got in the cab outside the base late at night on a Saturday, just after ten o'clock. He had no curfew so he wasn't worried about how long it took. Sitting safely in his pocket was $300. His voice frogged a little as he said, "Take me to Soapland."
"Soapuland? Yes?"
"Yes."
The driver just nodded and they got on their way. They left the area around the base and after a short time were travelling down the main streets of the largest city on the island, Naha. A few twists and turns down narrow side roads took them away from the main areas, and soon they stopped along a small side street between two buildings which had neon lights in Japanese characters. To Rob, it looked like they were in a grungy part of town, but he could not be sure as he had never been to this area of the island before.
Rob was beginning to doubt his plan when a man walked up to the cab and opened the door for him. Being from South Dakota, this type of service was unusual for the mid-westerner. He looked at the short middle aged Japanese man suspiciously. Then he looked back to the cabbie questioningly.
"Soapland?" Rob asked, annoyed at the language barrier.
