A warm October night in suburban Tokyo, 1am and quiet, as I neared the park entrance. The small toilet was on the right, just inside the gate. I went inside, put down my carry bag, closed the door, and took off my jacket and tie. Folding them on the small ledge as I stood on some newspaper, I removed my shoes and socks, undid my belt, and slid off my trousers, placing them on my shirt before I removed my underwear. I took a plastic package out of my bag and put my office clothes in the empty space. Opening the bag, I put the contents on a sheet of paper on the toilet seat. I started to get hard as I looked at my outfit for the night. Ignoring my coming erection, I pulled the tight black mesh singlet over my head and stretched it over my torso, making sure it was straight before I moved to the tiny stretch shorts. Two sizes too small and cut to the crotch, they had a little pouch to show off my cock and pads to show off my bum (which everyone said was big enough anyway!). I struggled into them, and once they were on I could feel them holding and shaping my ample buttocks. I pulled on my loose white ankle socks before stepping into the slightly heeled short black boots. All that was left was the silver necklace, a couple of rings, and my favorite bracelets. I put them on, folded up my day wear and carry bag, and put them in the shoulder bag I had brought along for the evening's strut.

Transformation complete. I had spent the night before shaving my body, so my arms and legs were smooth and shiny in the artificial light, just like my crotch and arse. Not a hair anywhere, just skin, skin, skin....I left the cubicle, went to the mirror over the washbasin, took out some gel and arranged my hair, and then rummaged in my bag for the perfume, which I sprayed lightly around my neck before pulling open my shorts and squirting a shot into my groin and arse. My wife's favorite. I wondered how she was enjoying 'visiting her parents'.

She had left three days ago, and wasn't due back for a week. I had put her in a taxi at the entrance to our apartment building, listening to her black high heels click on the pavement, watching her buttocks sway in her tight leather miniskirt, following her small bosom as it protruded from her clingy D&G top, and wondering where she and Steve would spend the time. Steve was her former boss. She had been fucking him when we met, she had fucked him just before we married, and she was fucking him now. Hell, go for it, I thought. I had pretty much lost interest in the marriage bed two months in (not that I had ever really been into that sort of thing anyway). The only way I got it up for her was to think about Hide, the gorgeous young Japanese guy who worked in my office, and the more I thought about him, the less interested I was in her. I knew she was going to see Steve because I had read her e-mail. (Never leave passwords lying around!) She told him that I couldn't get it up, that I didn't do anything for her when I did, that she missed his big American dick, and that she wanted him to fuck her stupid all week long.

Well, I hope you're riding him now!, I smiled to myself as I did a final check in the toilet mirror, for a second imagining it was me and not her in the sexy outfit and high heels, opening Steve's pants and popping his prime US beef into my glossed lips. (I wondered if she knew I wore her clothes and did it with guys.) One thing was missing. I rummaged around in the bag and pulled out a white studded belt, strapped it tight just above my shorts, took a deep breath, and went outside. Oh Hide, if you could see me now! Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I felt my buttocks bouncing in my little shorts as my heels hit the asphalt. It was 1.30am. I walked deeper into the park, slowly, deliberately, watching for signs of company. All quiet. I reached the small pond, put the bag down, leaned against the railing, and thrust my rear end out as I waited. It didn't usually take this long. Wednesday night. Must be someone here...Nothing. I decided to walk around the pond, swinging my hips as I neared the turn in the path where a wooded area borders it. I stopped on the small wooden bridge. Still nothing. Damn! As I decided to try elsewhere, I heard unsteady footsteps. I didn't look round, but waited as they moved onto the bridge and passed me. Just as I glanced at the figure moving away, he turned to look at me. Not what I had expected (or had really been looking for). A man in his mid-40s perhaps, short and stocky, unshaven, in a disheveled shirt and the baggy pants all Japanese laborers wear. He was slightly drunk, on his way home from a night with the boys, I imagined. He took me in from top to bottom and spat out a few words: 'You're a faggot, aren't you'. Teeing up the enticing possibility of some rough action, I smiled and said 'What do you think?'. 'Hah, I know what you want. You want to suck cock, don't you? You're all the same!' he leered. I smiled back suggestively and parted my lips ever so slightly. 'Are you any good?' he asked. 'Why don't you try me?', I replied, shouldering my bag and motioning to the wooded area. 'I'm not a fucking faggot', he hissed, as he started to follow me. They never are, but they all want to stick it in my mouth!

As we entered the trees, he squeezed my shorts. 'Nice arse', he whispered, adding that he thought white guys were usually hairy. 'I shave', I said, 'all over'. 'Hmmph, damned faggot', he grunted, and I could hear him unzipping his pants as we walked. 'Stop there', he said, and I did. Before I could turn, he put a hand roughly on my arm, pulled me around, grabbed me at the waist, and forced my shorts down. 'Get them off and get on your knees', he ordered. I stepped out of my shorts, my hard-on dangling in the night as I knelt to take him in my mouth. I have sucked lots of cocks, and can stretch a blow-job so long that guys melt with pleasure. Not this one, though. As my lips neared him, he pulled my gelled hair painfully, thrusting my face into his crotch. I could taste the unwashed cock and the traces of urine as he went deeper. I started to work him with my tongue, but he didn't want the finer pleasures. Keeping hold of my hair, he started to fuck my mouth hard, grunting at each thrust as I struggled to accommodate him. I tried to ease backward to get some air, but he told me not to fucking move, to keep my mouth where it was, and to blow him until he came. Having little choice and turned on by his roughness, I closed my lips on him and let him fuck my mouth...hard, hard, hard. He got quicker and quicker, all the time pulling me to him, until finally he shot long and strong, deep into my throat. I was almost gagging, but he ordered me to swallow, all of it, every last drop. I did as best I could, and he finally let go. Coughing, I moved back on my haunches as he laughed at me. 'How was that? Finally got a real man's cock in your mouth, eh?, not some tiny faggot prick like you usually get.' I could feel my cock harden as he spoke. I liked it rough, a few slaps, some dirty words, I liked it when a guy used me...and I liked serving this laborer. 'Tasty', I replied. 'Oh, I'm not finished yet', he grunted, and I saw he was hardening again. Oh fuck, this guy doesn't waste any time, I thought, and started to get on my knees again. 'No, this time I'm going to fuck you', he said, 'like a dog. Get on your hands and knees, sweetie, you'll love this'. God yes, I will, I thought, and took up the position. 'Come on, stick your arse in the air, you fag', he snarled. Oh, it just gets better, I thought, thrusting my butt upwards. Ouch! He was straight in, no niceties, just a hard cock rammed into my bum and pumping. I had no time to feel pain. When I realized what was happening, he was well into his stride. 'Like it?', he panted as he held my waist and pulled me toward him as he pistoned me. 'Oh yes', I murmured. Oh yes, use me like a little slut, fuck me, burst my bum, shoot your jizz inside me. Then I came. I was so horny I shot my wad into the ground in front of me as his cock wrought havoc in my anus. The he came...another big load, deep inside me. (Damn, I wonder if all laborers are like this? Perhaps I should hang around building sites...) He thrust a few more times, and was done. Barely aware that he had withdrawn, I stayed on all fours, taking in my first time with a real working man. When I looked around he was gone, back on the path and heading for the bridge where our encounter had started. Getting my breath, I stood up, took some tissues from my bag, wiped my cock and arse, struggled back into my shorts, and rearranged my outfit. The clock in the park showed 2.15am. I thought of a room somewhere in Tokyo, where my wife would be dining on solid American steak. Then I thought of Hide, my young Japanese co-worker. And as I headed for the park entrance, quite happy with the night's adventures so far, I dreamt a dream of tasty nights with him as the main course...




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