The Man in The Bullet Train

After no small effort of persuasion, I'd eventually managed to get Wataru to agree to leave the bedroom and halted the constant stream of cuddles and kissing. It had taken a fair bit of actual physical effort, pushing him off the futon twice, bribery 'I'll give you a blowjob once you've had a wash down there!' --- both of which failed, even if these techniques made us laugh. Resorting to simple threat proved the more effective method when, after he'd ignored my pleas and instead just closed his eyes, smiling smugly, l hit the heels of my shoes together with a satisfying 'thwack!' just inches from his nuts! Raising fears of testicles turned the shape of pancakes is grossly underrated as an incentive l feel. It might also have been helped by his phone going off on the other side of the table from him.

We'd spent what remained of the morning and most of the afternoon at Nishiki Market, a covered warren of stalls and shops selling all manner of foods, supposedly traditional to Kyoto. If anyone says the Japanese are not foodies, they are lying like politicians a day before polling day! They are obsessed with food. Perhaps out of sheer mule-like bloody-mindedness, which has great appeal to me, the Japanese seem to delight in combining the most unlikely of ingredients into something that tastes delicious but really shouldn't! Fish and sugar are not normally best mates but it worked in Kyoto!

At the beginning, I'd asked Wataru to explain what the origin of the food was but, partly because his vocabulary was patchy where the internal organs of livestock was concerned and partly because I usually immediately regretted asking the question when he was able to cough up the English term, I soon stopped. I tried all that was offered up for me to sample, some I liked, some I didn't. Either response was accepted with graciousness on behalf of the stallholder and more often than not with quiet laughter. The more crowded the stall, the happier I was. It allowed me to stand closer to him, to brush against him 'accidentally', to feel nearer to him. I could turn suddenly, knowing l'd be inches from an ear-lobe which was demanding to be nibbled, from the back of a neck just waiting for a kiss or from brown eyes that l could melt in front of. Not that l did of course ... . 

The afternoon would have been perfect but for the repeated beeping from his phone indicating messages or emails or whatever. Wataru had looked the first couple of times but hadn't responded since. At least, not as far as l had seen anyway. I was dreading him doing so because I knew very well that would mean he was starting the process of allowing the outside world to claim him back from me. I was quite happy in my my bubble of deluded ignorance. The Shinkansen service would re-start soon and Beppu would send me a demon from one of its numerous hells to burst my bubble soon enough. 

It was about 4h30 ... too early to eat but too late to go out to see another of Kyoto's sights ... but we had 'done' Nishiki and I could safely tick another box. 'Where now Handsome-san?' 'I don't know. I am not the crazy European tourist with a list of buckets! No more boxes to tick?' 'Mmm.' (The best reply l could think up - a clear fail for me in the 'witty response' category!). Maybe l was too thrown by his words because, although said with a smile, Wataru's tone indicated he wasn't entirely happy. Had l annoyed him? Was l losing his interest? Or was it just me misconstruing things? It could be just that ... English was not his first language after all ... 

'Well, there is one sight I'd definitely like to see again!' I said with one eyebrow raised. 

'Really? And what would that be?' 

'That beautiful man I saw covered in water droplets walking towards me in the onsen yesterday!' 

Wataru kept his face deadpan 'l thought the dad and the son had a face like a pumpkin.' 

'Not them! YOU!!!' 

The grin on his handsome features told me I had fallen for his teasing, which pleased me. I turned and kicked him gently on the arse which shocked both him and the young woman standing at the bus-stop. That necessitated five minutes of tedious explanation and apologies as apparently fifty year old gaijin shouldn't play 'Let's kick thirty-odd year old Japanese men' at Kyoto bus-stops! Oh well! I added 'Offend one or two Japanese cultural norms (minor only)' to the bucket list, though my concern returned when he was largely silent on the bus back to the ryokan. 

We walked in and the place was totally deserted. Somewhat disappointingly, there was no Kei-kun, all bounce and grins and sticky-outy bum. We switched footwear and flip-flopped our way up the stairs to the room to change into our yukata and flip-flopped back down to the onsen. We stripped once more in the changing room and again l had a sharp intake of breath seeing him naked. I had to fight back the urge to take his soft dick into my mouth there and then but instead turned and walked into the sliding door a second time. 

'It's a tradition where I come from!' 

He chuckled absent-mindedly but it was clear now something was amiss. The bathhouse was empty although the door to the outside area hadn't closed properly for some reason. I sat closest to the sliding door but, as were were the only ones there, we could sit facing each other rather than the shower heads. I took my shower head and got the temperature to pleasantly warm. I sprayed his arm and then, once he nodded, l wet his hair and the rest of him. I transferred a squirt of shampoo onto his head and massaged it into his scalp, enjoying the sensual feel of his thick mop. He looked at me, totally acquiescent and totally cute with his head covered in foam, if slightly ridiculous. 

'Close your eyes Beautiful! I'm going to rinse!' 

Whilst still directing the water onto his head with the showerhead in my left hand, l took a squirt of soap in my right. I leaned in and surprised him by grabbing his dick and balls. The feeling of the soap lubricating my touch was so sensual. I boned. His response was merely to open his legs wider and scoot the stool closer. He took the showerhead head from me allowing both hands to be soaping him up slowly. When he was hard, l slipped a forefinger in between his buttocks and the stool and was just able to massage his hole a little. Breathing harder, he leant further forward resting his forehead between my head and shoulder, then turned his head to kiss me gently. Delicate little kisses. 

'I'm nearly there!' he whispered. 

'You want me to stop?' I asked. 

'I'll have to kill you if you do!' 

He shot within seconds. Not far enough to reach me but copiously, his whole body shuddering as he came. I took the shower and rinsed us both but he just carried on kissing me, again and again. My ear, my jaw. My neck, my mouth. 

He motioned to me to stand and I felt his hands on my hips and a kiss on the end of my knob. Standing there, erect, in a public place, I felt male like I'd never felt before. I'd always enjoyed the feeling of being hard, what man doesn't, and loved walking about the house rubbing my erection when l was able to masturbate freely because Karen was out. But this was different, better! 

Wataru took me into his mouth slowly, millimetre by millimetre, at the same time squeezing his forefinger between my butt cheeks. The lubrication of the liquid soap produced such a wonderful tingling as he passed over my hole, l had to lean forward and put my hands on his shoulders for support. In all my years of self-pleasure, I'd never really paid any attention to my hole so this was proving a revelation and a half!

But fate intervened in the form of voices in the changing room. The soap was quickly rinsed from my ass and I sat down on my potty. Wataru turned from me and began scrubbing his armpits as did I. One of the 'advantages' of age is that erections disappear more speedily and so I was not only clean but soft and was just getting up to move to the bath behind me when the dad from yesterday walked in and went straight past me as if I was a misplaced bathroom fitting that had been left in the middle of the shower area. His two companions, one thirty-five-ish and quite handsome, the other slightly older and decidedly not, did a double-take when they saw a bearded foreigner in front of them, naked and a good head taller than them and immediately moved to cover their equipment with their towels before sitting on the free stools! 

I'd just sunk down to chin level in the bath, my regulation hand-towel balanced precariously on my head, when Wataru stepped in. But instead of sitting down, he flashed his eyes at the somewhat rusted door leading outside. I stood up but in doing so the towel slipped off my head and fell into the water --- a huge breach of onsen etiquette! He motioned to me to keep quiet and blocked the line of sight as l scooped it up as silently as l could manage. He stood back and let me go up the three steps first. As the rusty door had jammed itself open somehow, by turning our bodies sideways, we could slip through noiselessly without moving it further. It opened into a bare, concrete alleyway which immediately led to the right. One side was the outside wall of the bathhouse, the other was an equally ugly concrete wall to which someone had long ago attached bamboo screens in an attempt to make it marginally less stark. But much of these had rotten away now, exposing the concrete and peeling paint beneath. 

We trotted down the alleyway, my sodden towel leaving a tell-tale line of drips as we followed what would have been the long wall of the rectangular bath and stopped dead in our tracks when we rounded the corner at the end. The small garden and outside bath were as beautiful as the alleyway was hideous. The boundary was a high wall covered with bamboo screens which had, however, been maintained. There was luxuriant, green foliage everywhere. The outside of the bath comprised huge, smooth rounded boulders on which you could sit or lie in some cases. The whole atmosphere was restful and calming yet exotic and intimate. 

But the beauty of the place was not the reason for our standing there, rooted to the spot. Kei was there, staring directly at us now. He was sat over another man, equally naked of course, and thereby blocking the latter's view of us with his small but wiry body. Kei's beautiful little ass was being penetrated by the man's dick, though it was clearly Kei who was in control. It was Kei-kun who held our gaze, it was he who continued to move his butt up and down the man's shaft. Having two observers watch as he was being fucked was obviously an additional turn-on for we watched Kei grow from soft to hard rapidly and start to masturbate himself, grinning at us the whole time. 

Squatting down on my haunches, I followed suit. Wataru moved up close behind me and did likewise. I felt the length of his hard prick being rubbed against my hole. Another new, and very pleasant, sensation for me. The body under Kei shuddered as Kei brought him to climax. I and Wataru followed leaving an unmistakable puddle of white cum on the concrete. Kei stood up, stroking himself rhythmically, clearly very pleased at the eyes glued to his tight little body. He arched his back and shot a good metre in front of him, which resulted in his smile just getting bigger if that was possible! 

But the exhibitionist in Kei wasn't finished just yet! He wiped the last dribble from his cock onto his fingers and bent down to offer it to the man still lying on the boulder, who licked it, if rather hesitantly. But bending over, as young Kei-kun well knew, gave us a perfect view of his bubble butt and the cum leaking out of his still open hole and down his left thigh. 

The man sat up, his face turning chilli-red when he realised what we had just seen. It was the son from yesterday! But at the same time, the door behind us creaked painfully open, announcing the imminent arrival of his father, amongst others! 

Still out of sight for the moment, I just managed to squeeze water from my towel onto the puddle of cum, making it marginally less obvious. We eased ourselves into the bath as quickly as we could, given its temperature, and practised our 'we've been here for at least ten minutes' looks! Wataru leant forward to whisper away to the two others in Japanese. Judging by the son's face turning several shades darker, it was to warn that dad was on his way! 

Seconds later, the father appeared talking away intensely to a man of similar age, who was walking next to him and being very careful to show he was giving due attention to what was being said. It was true that the father's face did have a certain resemblance to a pumpkin but it wasn't that or the extra kilo or two he carried that reinforced the feeling of dislike I'd felt in the bathhouse, both today and yesterday l realised. He'd been so over-bearing when barking at his son and so rude in blanking out others including yours truly. My eyes were inevitably drawn to his groin and that of his companion. Whilst I might have been envious of their still jet-black patches of pubes, I certainly wasn't of the one-inchers nestled in their centre! 

The two at the front had passed either side of the puddle, engrossed as they were in their conversation, and failing, thankfully, to notice it. That was not the case for the utterly bored-looking guy in his late thirties behind them who actually stopped to examine the puddle. Realising what it largely consisted of, his handsome face broke into a huge cheeky grin that Kei himself would have been proud of. Whereas Wataru remained totally impassive when he looked at him, l gave the game away, shrugging my shoulders at him in a 'Boys will be boys' sort of fashion. His smiling response was to uncover his cock and reveal his dick as cut unfortunately but of a far more respectable length than those of either of his companions! 

The outside bath was not sufficiently large to accommodate three newcomers as well and so Kei, Wataru and l took the opportunity to stand up to leave, if only to reinforce the idea that we had been there long enough to have soaked sufficiently. Kei produced a large jug from somewhere and scooped up water from the bath, ostensibly to wash our feet but the real aim was to dilute the cum on the path still further. However, as I passed the good-looking third member of the group, he discreetly gestured at the rapidly disappearing evidence and, said 'Omoshiroi, ne?' ['Interesting, isnt it?'] looking directly at me, smirking away happily.