Tokyo Seduction

It's a staple of life, and who am I to argue with that? This is why I blew off bar hopping with my friends to stay at my hotel in Tokyo and enjoy a long Japanese bath. Need to get all the experiences I can while I'm on vacation, I said; it really was just an excuse to beg off a bit of time from the rush rush of sight-seeing and party searching. Sometimes even guys need a bit of peace and quiet.

I had ambled down the hallway, locating the easy-to-spot bathroom on the right. It was empty -- most people being out on the town, just like my friends -- and the hotel staff had already drawn up a piping hot tub of water. Just perfect.

Closing the door, I sat down on the stool and washed myself off. As with anything different than my normal routine, this Japanese custom felt strange, but not foreign. It was like taking a shower sitting down. Getting the dirty essentials out of the way, I quickly shifted over to the tub.

Japanese tubs are very deep. Slowly I lowered myself in, wincing as my freshly washed skin was assaulted by near scalding water. But it was at least a few degrees short of permanent burn damage (hopefully), and I braved it out as only a manly man could do. Okay, so I lie... I whimpered a bit. But eventually I sunk all the way down to the bottom, my entire body submerged save for my neck and head.

It was heaven. I felt my muscles uncramp as the waves of heat sunk deep within. I laid my head back and closed my eyes, turning off my brain to just enjoy the experience. Some people back in the states say that long hot baths are just for girls, but that's too sexist for me. Besides, it's basically a big hot tub for one.

Floating there, allowing time to slip away as I softly hummed to myself, I was almost oblivious to the door opening. Footsteps slapped softly on the tile floor, causing me to open my eyes and see who it was. I was just about ready to say something to the effect of "bath occupied," when my mind stuttered to a halt.

She was Japanese, most definitely. A small, petite girl with the wispy black hair, the pinched eyes, and the delicate skin. She stood there, vaguely looking at either the tub or the floor, refusing to meet my eyes. She wore a long t-shirt and flannel shorts, holding a towel in her right hand.

Her eyes flickered up to mine, and I was in love. Hah, well, so maybe I have instant crushes on all the Japanese women I meet, but they're so incredibly cute that it's damn near irresistible. I know it's just the culture talking and not exactly reality, but their shyness, their friendly yet meek attitudes all project an aura of sexy innocence. Yet so far in Japan, I had only looked and not even made advances. I didn't think I'd even know how to flirt without seeming overbearing, like your typical crude westerner.

I risked a hello. "Konnichiwa."

"Konnichiwa," she said, so softly in that quiet room. Those were the only words we said to each other that day.

I fully expected her to turn around and jet it out of the bathroom, if nothing else, than to give me my privacy. But I was loathe to say something or gesture right then. Sometimes life can be its strangest just when you think it can't get any more bizarre, and that is when lifetime memories are formed.

So right then, with me sitting stark naked in a burning hot bath, the Japanese beauty began taking off her clothes.

My friends said I lied when I told them this story, but they weren't there. Hell, I couldn't even believe it myself. The only thing my sex-addled brain could come up with was that the Japanese had different standards when it came to nudity and modesty. But to come in to an already occupied bath and wash off yourself while a strange guy is looking on...? Believe it or not, but that is what happened.

I know what you want to know at this point: what she looked like nude, right? After sliding off her shorts and lifting the shirt above her head, I could have described her perfectly to a sketch artist, down to the last detail. She stood only a couple feet away from me, turned sideways as she fiddled with the shower knobs. And yes, she was breathtaking. Cute before the clothes coming off, now she was no less than a dream in the flesh. Porcelain skin flowing from her small ears, down the nape of her neck, rising and falling over her small breasts, curving around a smooth ass, and tapering down toned legs to her tiny feet.

My eyes were drawn to two details in particular. The first was the tuft of black hair an inch under her belly button, pointing down between her legs. Now normally, I'm very much of a shaved pussy kind of guy. I love to be able to see what I'm about to lick and play with, and I would have sworn before that moment that there was nothing sexier than a bald wet pussy in front of me. But there was something incredibly erotic about all that smooth naked skin, broken only by a patch of pubic hair, that made her seem all the more naked.

As if it was the last vestige of clothing waiting to be taken away. And besides, it looked so soft that right then I wanted nothing more than to run my fingertips through it to confirm that suspicion. The other detail was her mouth, slightly parted as she concentrated on getting the shower water to the right temperature. Her lips seemed fuller now than before, softer than her impossibly soft skin. My mind, dirty without remorse, immediately thought of three things that she could do with her mouth to me, all of them very sexual.

I sat there, still and silent, gazing at her. She sat as if utterly unconcerned that a man was not there, running the water over her skin and scrubbing. And somewhere in the middle of her rinsing her hair, I was betrayed by my member. Up to that point, the shock of her boldness had countered any arousal I might have been feeling, but just seeing the soapy water running in rivulets between her tits sent the scale tipping into full-fledged horniness. My cock throbbed, painfully, and I was powerless to do anything about it. At least until she left. I wondered if she knew how turned on I was. I wondered, idly, if she got off on this sort of exhibition.

Just like that, she was finished. It seemed like both an eternity of erotic torture since she began, and also a bare second. I resisted a disappointed sigh when she twisted off the water. I tried to think of something to say, something suave to do to get her to stay, but nothing came into mind. Naked and dripping, she stood up...

...and stepped right into the tub with me. Let me tell you, if I was shocked before, I was literally stunned right then. Without a hint of hesitation, she lifted her leg right over the edge of the tub (I remember not wanting to blatantly look between her thighs, but looking anyway), and planted her foot down near my own feet. I looked up at her face -- why wasn't she looking back? my mind asked -- but she was as controlled as ever. She just kept staring down into the tub of water, the hot liquid splashing up against her knees, as if waiting.

Without thinking, I drew my legs up toward my body. It must have been what she was waiting for, because she took the opportunity to sit down. My legs were closed together, still embarrassed at my erection, so hers straddled the outside of both of my legs. She didn't flinch as her skin slid across mine; she just got comfortable.

We mirrored each other in that tub, the water dangerously high with two people in it. I honestly couldn't think, so I can't recall what went on in my head right then. All I was aware of was her legs around mine, her petite breasts rising and falling slightly above the waterline, and her face certainly calmer than mine was. What did I look like? Probably a frightened rabbit at that point. Sure, I'm a guy and I love sex and nudity as much as anyone else, but this was too strange, too fantastic to be considered real. I outweighed her two to one, but she had me cornered.

Nothing happened for a while. I know, in a porn movie we would have already been shagging like crazy, but this was as far removed from a typical porn attitude as was possible. It was two people in a tub together, silent across the gulf of two societies. We didn't even move after she got comfortable. My cock certainly didn't subside.

From time to time her eyes would again flicker up to mine, then dart away like a fluttering sparrow. Was she trying to tell me something with those glances? Was she as curious about me as I was of her? There was no way to tell, unless we talked... and what line could we use to initiate conversation at that point? Besides, sometimes quiet is much more magical.

I found my right hand floating off of my knee, when it brused up against her thigh. I almost -- almost -- jerked it away, but then let it stay. After all, she didn't seem embarrassed to be naked and touching a stranger in a tub, so why should I either? My fingers moved with the water, lightly caressing over the top of her leg. It was soft, like plush velvet, and I couldn't help myself when I started moving my fingers of my own accord.

Believe me when I tell you that if she said "stop" at any moment, or even moved away in the slightest, I would have ceased my actions. And while she was carefully hiding whatever thoughts might have been going on in her head, she did not discourage me. What did I have to lose? I figured I might as well explore and see what happened.

Growing bolder by the moment, my hands trailed up and down the top of her thigh. I enjoyed moving them around the tight, muscular top, then down the silkier inner sides. Soon enough, both hands were stroking her legs, up and down, a few inches away from where that tuft of black hair floated in the clear hot water.

What did I have to lose, indeed. And with a final check to see if she was upset or happy -- or really any emotion at all -- my fingers found her outer pussy lips. Up to that point she was as quiet as a mouse, but when my fingers brushed over her full slit folds, an audible gasp escaped her lips. She was looking directly at me now, no glancing away, her eyes telling me something... urging me on? In any case, my fingers worked on their own, stroking the almost too-soft lips of her cunt, finding the nub of her clit and playing gently with it. It was luxurious and sexy, me taking my time fingering her fully, working her up. She remained relatively still, but as my fingers probed deep inside, I was happy to feel it clench hard around my digits, then spasm a little as I slowly thrust in and out.

We went on like this for five, maybe ten minutes. My hands moving underwater, exploring her pussy, sliding in and out of her slit, while she just looked on at me. Gradually, I felt her pushing her pelvis against my hand, grinding her clit against my palm.

In the silence, she moved, and the sound of the water rippling was almost deafening. She rose up on her knees, my hand falling out of her sweet cunt. Looking deep into my eyes with her exotic slanted eyes, she slid her knees up on either side of my waist. She was so close I could taste her... and so I did, leaning forward and planting a wet kiss on her stomach. I could have done that everywhere on her body without hesitation.

But that's not what she wanted. Her hand came down and grabbed my cock. I could have cum right there if she only stroked it, but she kept it firm and still. Rising up, she positioned herself, then swiftly lowered herself onto me. Her body impaled itself on my shaft, thrusting hard up into her tiny body. I felt it stretch her, how very tight her pussy was. I went into her not so much due to how wet she was (though she was), but more due to the force of her dropping her body fiercely onto me.

We didn't kiss. Strange, I know, but our coupling was the most strange of my life. No dirty words, no grabbing or sucking or kissing; she merely wrapped her arms around my neck, leaning her head on my shoulder, facing my neck. Her cunt held my cock in a vise-like grip as she settled in.

There we were. My arms wrapped around a beautiful small Japanese girl, who in turn was riding my cock while resting her head on my shoulder. It's hard to explain how it felt, but I definitely felt protective of her, nestled in my arms, her naked skin against mine. She moved slowly, slightly, up and down, barely letting an inch of my shaft escape her.

The sensation I was most aware of, however, wasn't her breasts, pressed flat against my chest. Or her hands, gripping the back of my shoulders. Or even her delightfully tight pussy, milking my cock in short spurts. It was her breathing on my neck that I found the most erotic. I could feel her breath escape, less than an inch from my skin, hot and hard. She would breathe out after every thrust, her breath washing over my skin, the only clue as to what she was feeling. It was intense. Thrust, and a soundless gasp. Thrust, gasp. I could have felt that forever.

I wish I could say that we had an intense mutual orgasm, or even that I was the gentleman and made sure she released first. But it was all too much for me, the strangeness, the foreignness, the closeness. My body rebelled and on a downward thrust, my cock erupted deep into her belly. The second spurt felt so hot and wet that it almost overcame the heat of the tub, running down out of her pussy and into the water.

If I didn't already suspect that I was her prisoner of sorts, then what happened next made it clear. Instead of pushing off of me or being upset, she merely continued on. Her cunt clamped even tighter onto my spasming cock; it felt like a hand was gripping it in a vise. She had me and would not let me go. Her mouth breathed a bit faster as she milked my shaft, refusing to let it go soft. I became aware of her hands painfully digging into my shoulder as she started to climax.

Holding her, I was hers. My cock began to twinge, so sensitive after cumming, but she wasn't done using it. Jacking down on it, hard, after each thrust, her contracting pussy quivered with the motion. Just when I was about to whimper myself from the combination of pain and pleasure, she came.

Outwardly, there was nothing. She stopped moving completely. Her body rested fully on mine, pussy impaled completely on the length of my cock. However, I don't think it would have even been possible to have pulled my member out of her. It felt like a boa squeezing a poor mouse to death, all of her muscles tight and then...

She relaxed, and let out a soft moan, so audible in the bathroom, against my neck. I won't ever forget that sound, the low sound of a woman experiencing great pleasure.

We rested there, for a minute, and I tried to store every detail in memory. I was sure I'd never see her again, this beautiful Asian who had her arms and legs around me, who had pulled my cock deep inside of her and was only now relinquishing it. I wish everyone could experience such a moment.

We never kissed, save for a small, child-like peck she planted on the corner of my mouth as she exited the tub. I watched her climb out and dress, the hot water dripping off of her smooth skin, and repressed a desire to go after her.

You can do some things to ruin the magic. So I didn't do it.