I can tell you when my dream of becoming a geisha began.
It was James Clavellâs fault. If he had never written ShĂ´gun and Richard Chamberlain had never brought Anjin-san to such vivid life, Iâd have never made that vow to myself. The vow to one day go to Japan and learn how to become a geisha. Of course, I had to live the rest of my life, while keeping my dream alive. I graduated from high school, realized that I was gay and moved to San Francisco, deciding to attend college there. Four years later, I had a degree in Asian Studies and a minor in International Finance and I finally realized that my dream was within my grasp. It took another two years before I landed a job in Intel Corporationâs Tokyo office and I was off to the Land of the Rising Sun.
Life in Japan was much harder than I expected it to be. I found myself sticking with other co-workers, rather than mingle with countrymen that didnât really like outsiders, especially Americans, and didnât usually welcome them into their gilded circles. I made friends with one Japanese lady, though. A diminutive woman approaching forty, but looking twenty, named Tamiko Hotsubara, called Tamiko-san. Tamiko-san was the executive secretary to the CEO and we were always in close contact since Iâd been assigned to work directly with her boss.
One day, she invited me to lunch and over bento boxes loaded with sushi and pickles, I took a leap of faith and told her of my dream. She gave me a traditional Japanese grunt and continued to eat, her chopsticks moving at the speed of light. I chewed, awaiting her response and when none came, I silently cursed myself for letting my resolve weaken. Finally, she set her chopsticks down and looked me squarely in the face.
âYou really want to become geisha?â
âYes, Tamiko-san. I have been dreaming about it for a long time.â
Tamiko-san pulled out a lidded bowl of chilled lychee fruit and a couple of sesame candies and we silently ate the sweet, pearl onion-sized fruit, following with the candies. âAre you busy on Saturday?â
âNo.â I had planned on spending a few hours in the office to put the finishing touches on a report for her boss but I could tell that spending those hours with Tamiko-san was going to be a lot more interesting.
âI have a friend that owns an
o-chaya
. She might be willing to give you some training.â
âOh, Tamiko-san, she could âŚ
domo
!â
Tamiko-san just smiled, chewing her sesame candy and packing the bento box so that we could head back to work.
When Saturday came, I found myself awake at the break of dawn, meditating because Iâd been unable to sleep. I dressed in khaki capris and a woven shirt and met Tamiko-san at the Tsukiji Fish Market. We had to pick up some friendly offerings to present to her friend, Hana-san. Stuffing our purchases into her shopping bag, we took a taxi to the Geisha District, also called
hana-machi
and found Hana-sanâs
o-chaya
.
Hana-san met us at the door and gave Tamiko-san a hug. To me, she gave a small bow, calling me Nikki-san and escorting us into her private apartments. Her dark eyes met mine over cups of steaming green tea and I felt as if she were sizing me up and satisfying her curiosity about me.
âTamiko-san tells me that you wish to become geisha.â
âYes, Hana-san. That is my dearest wish.â
âTamiko-san also tells me that you are a lesbian, that you prefer female company to male company.â
I felt heat creep into my cheeks and knew that my face had turned red, âYes, Hana-san. That is also true.â
âThe traditional geishaâs responsibility is to serve men. You would not wish to be of service to males?â
I glanced at Tamiko-san, who gave me a small nod of encouragement. âNo, Hana-san. I do not wish to service males.â
âIs there such a thing as an
o-chaya
for females only?â
âSurprising that you would ask that, Tamiko-san.â Hana finished her tea and elegantly wiped her mouth. âOne opened two years ago. Today, there are seven.â
â
Seven
?â Tamiko-san gasped. âWho knew that it would become so popular?â
âI did.â Hana-san gave her friend a guilty smile. âThree of them are mine.â She laughed at Tamiko-sanâs expression. âI also own two that are for males only.â
âNo wonder youâre doing so well!â Tamiko-san patted her friendâs hand, laughing. âYour father is truly blessed!â
âAnd so, we come back to Nikki-sanâs request. I have a small
okiya
for the
maiko
that we train. The
maiko
live there but that is not a requirement. Would you like to go visit?â
âOh, yes, Hana-san! I would love it!â
âAll right. Letâs go.â
A short taxi ride later, we were at Hana-sanâs first female only
o-chaya
. The coffeehouse was set on a small parcel of land with an adjacent parking area and taxi stand. Suki, her
okami
, welcomed us warmly and proceeded to give us a discreet guided tour of the house. Tatami crunched under our feet as we were swept past a busy kitchen, a spa area where two women were receiving mud baths and a hallway of wooden-doored rooms where customers who requested or required privacy were entertained.
Somehow, she knew why I was there and beckoned to me, to the exclusion of Tamiko and Hana-san. She led me up a secret set of stairs to a dark room, illuminated only by the light that poured in from the room below. It took me a moment to realize that I was looking down into one of the private rooms. A black woman with large breasts was on her hands and knees, a small Japanese girl behind her, slamming a thick pink strap-on into her black cunt. My mouth watered.
âWe service every womanâs request here.â Suki said quietly. I hadnât noticed right away, but she had moved closer to me, her voice silky in my ear. Her arm came around my waist, her hand flattening on my belly, fingers applying pressure towards my already overheated pussy. âEven women that havenât requested anything yet.â
I shivered in her embrace, her coral pink lips lazily rubbing against the side of my neck as she stood behind me. I felt something hard in the cleft of my ass. âIs this part of the tour?â
âOnly if you want it to be.â Her wet tongue stroked my ear, slipping inside and tracing the hard shell. âFree of charge, of course.â
She wouldnât let me turn so that I could do a more proper job of kissing her so I had to settle for tasting her yummy mouth from the side, shivering and moaning as her hands slid down my sides, joining at the front to unbutton my capris, then separating again to push them down my hips. Those same hands made short work of my thong and her long fingers were pushing into my wet slit, her thumb working my rising clit.
The scene below partially mirrored our loving. I thrilled to the sight of the huge dildo drilling the black womanâs pussy and coming out glistening with her juices. Suki leaned forward and touched a button on a small console to the right and the sounds of lust filled the tiny alcove.
âHear her cries?â I closed my eyes. Sukiâs husky voice echoed in my ear, melding with the sounds of the couple fucking below. The Japanese woman was slapping the black womanâs ass as she pounded her snatch and the woman was clearly enjoying it. âNow, add yours to it.â
The hardness at my backside had been a strap-on which now skillfully made its way up inside me, stretching resting muscle and making me groan in pleasure. Her hands pushed me forward until I was holding onto the wooden ledge, looking down onto the scene with Suki pounding me ferociously, paralleling their actions. The black woman threw her head back, her mouth open in a perfect rictus of pain-etched pleasure and the Japanese woman shoved a thin dildo into the womanâs ass.
I felt Sukiâs finger penetrating my anal passage and I came instantly, nearly shouting my climax as my pussy clenched around the dildo and my asshole around her finger. She whispered soft endearments to me as I came down, holding me against her body and only pulling out when I could stand again. She gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. âYou were very tasty, Nikki-san. Please feel free to come again.â
We rejoined Tamiko and Hana-san, who threw me a knowing glance. I tried to ignore them and said, âWhen can I start?â
*****
I didnât have to go through the usual protocol that a usual woman who pursues geisha training would go through. There were no parental interviews and no living requirements. Suki was to be my trainer and as manager of Hana-sanâs top rated
o-chaya
, I knew I was going to be in good hands. The rest of the tour, Suki-san took every opportunity to touch me; a fleeting touch on my breast, a gentle squeeze of my buttocks or fingers on my cheek let me know that she was thinking about me.
Hana-san told me that a year would be sufficient for me to learn everything I needed to know to be able to competently service women. The first six months would be educational studies about everything a Japanese geisha should know. I would be expected to learn a few songs on the
shamisen
, learn