Chapter 15: Junia Aidoru Photo Shoot

“Of course you can have another drink, Fumiko-chan,” Johan says, patting her butt.

She stands, and Johan stands with her. The top of her head doesn’t come near his shoulder. Johan’s over six feet, he works out, he’s big and he’s all muscle. Two hundred and something pounds of muscle.

Fumiko Suematsu is five three or maybe four. Not more. She probably weighs around one ten when she’s soaking wet. She’s slim, long legged, petite, and in that little white bikini, she’s hot. If you like fourteen year old Japanese girls that is. Johan’s clients sure do. Johan’s hand rests on her butt for a lot longer than it needs to, but she makes no objection. She takes the glass from Johan and drinks thirstily. They’re not large glasses, but she’s drunk a lot of them.

“Now, let me get my camera.” John opens a drawer and retrieves one. Very professional looking. Guess he uses it for all those images on his website. “Why don’t we start now, let’s just do bikini shots to start with.” He grins.

Fumiko giggles. “Like this,” she says, posing. She stands, she twists, she bends. She sits on the dresser, She spreads her legs. She places one foot up in the dresser. She kneels on it, She lies on it. She slips to the floor and bends over the end, smiling. She moves to the couch and displays herself. Sitting. Lying. On her back, Face down, Kneeling. Lying face down on the back. Lying on her back. Sitting upright. She knows all the moves, all the positions, she seems so natural and she’s photogenic too.

Johan’s enjoying himself, making suggestions, talking to her, encouraging her until at last he lowers the camera.

“Why don’t we do some lingerie shots, Fumiko-chan,” he suggests. “Let use what you were wearing.”

“Okay, Mr. Johan-san.” Fumiko picks up her panties and bra. She turns her back to Johan and just like that, she slips her bikini top off and shrugs her bra on, reaching behind her back to fasten it.

“What type of bra are you wearing, Fumiko?” Johan asks, his voice soft and gentle, interested. Mr. Nice Guy. Not touching. Not yet. Allowing her a little time to adjust to his eyes on her.

“It’s ... it’s an Adele Lace Sheer Bralette,” Fumiko replies, smiling as she half covers one cup of her bralette with one hand. She’s posing as she’s been taught. Hiroyuki-san has done a great job training her. I do wonder if she dressed and undressed in front of him the way she’s dressed and undressed in front of Johan.

“Put your panties on, Fumiko-chan,” Johan says.

She obeys without any question. Just like that, she turns her back, slides the bikini bottom down, exposing a cute little butt. She steps out of the bikini and steps into her panties, adjusting them as the camera clicks. They’re very pretty, white, lacey and diminutive without being too brief for a girl her age. She turns, posing for Johan without any embarrassment. She must have done this quite a number of times for her Hiroyuki-san.

She has no idea that these not-quite-innocent poses, the way she turns and twists and uses the furniture, her slim body, her long slender legs, her small firm breasts, her taut little butt, they’re exactly what Johan’s clients are looking for. She has no idea that Johan has clients. She has no idea that she’s going to meet Johan’s clients. What she is aware of is that she is posing for the camera.

What she’s aware that Johan’s cock is big and hard at the sight of her as she poses for him. She’s aware of that but she sees no danger. Hiroyuki-san photographed her. Hiroyuki-san became big and hard at the sight of her, but nothing ever happened. There’s nothing for her to be afraid of. Nothing at all, and so she poses for Johan, displays her body for him, smiles for him.

“I’m thirsty,” she says, a long time later. How long? Not that long in the movie. Maybe half an hour in real life.

“Let’s take a break,” Johan says, placing the camera down and mixing her yet another of those drinks. He hands it to her, sits, and draws her down onto his lap in one fluid move.

“Your breasts are beautiful, Fumiko-chan, and seeing them like this...” His fingers brush that lacey little white bralette...”is tremendously exciting for a man.”

Fumiko smiles, and everyone watching knows she has no idea whatsoever of what Johan intends for her. Not yet, not in this movie, but she will. She has no idea how arousing she looks, her petite body nestled against Johan, seated on his lap, cradled in his arm, half naked, half-exposed in that bralette and those little white panties, vulnerable and innocent. She has that beautifully petite and vulnerable innocence that drives Johan’s clients frantic with lust.

She’s not driving Johan frantic.

This is his business, and he has a lot more self control than that, but the sight of her is inflaming him. Johan’s erection is barely contained within his trousers, and even in this clip, I can see that.

I’m sure the sight of her will inflame every male watching this. It inflames me. My sex pulses with that wet heat as I eye her, and I’d like nothing more than to peel her hand away, peel her bralette off, and force her to expose herself to my eyes.

“Is it exciting for you to see my breasts, Mr. Johan-san?” she whispers, her face burning, her eyes fully closed. Any inhibitions she had seem to have been dissipated by that cocktail she’s drunk so many glasses of, and she’s drifting in the moment, drifting in a haze of vodka, viagra, quack, roofies, and unrestrained excitement, her mind in the present, in the sensations she’s experiencing, unafraid, oblivious to being in a complete stranger’s apartment, oblivious to what else might happen.

“It’s very exciting for me, Fumiko,” Johan says. “I love looking at them, and other men will too. I’d like to see you in some different bras and panties?”

He gestures. There’s a small pile on the stand just inside the door. Someone must have slipped them there. “Why don’t you look at them, Fumiko-chan. I’m sure there something there you’d like to wear for me.”

“Yes, Mr. Johan-san.” Fumiko slips to her feet and walks to the stand. She rummages through that small pile and at last she holds up a little gold G-string and a matching halter-top. She turns around. “I wore something like this for Hiroyuki-san once,” she said. “That was my best-selling magazine. Would you like me to wear them for you, Mr. Johan-san?”

“I’d love that, Fumiko-chan,” Johan says. “Here, let me help you.”

Standing, he steps over to her, takes her hand and leads her towards the large bed. Beside it, he unhooks her bra and slips it from her, leaving her topless. She gazes up at him, mesmerized, eyes wide, reddish-brown nipples engorged and swollen. He takes the gold halter top from her hand and slips it over her head, smiling as she lifts both arms and slides it on. It’s a little small for her, it leaves the undersides of her breasts just visible.

“Thank you, Mr. Johan-san.” Fumiko’s eyes are still wide, looking up at him. She’s breathing hard, her lips slightly parted. Her swollen nipples are pushing against the halter top, pushing the material out.

“Now the panties,” Johan breathes. “Put those panties you’re holding on.”

“Yes, Mr. Johan-san,” Fumiko whispers, her eyes half-closing, her hands, both her hands, moving to push the little white panties she’s wearing down. She bends over, takes them off, slips the little gold G-string on and tugs it into place.

“Don’t move,” Johan says, moving to his camera, kneeling, taking images one after the other. The G-string is tiny, a little triangle of gold that clings to Fumiko, outlining a perfect cameltoe, concealing her sex but nothing else.

“Turn around, my dear. Pirouette for me.”

Fumiko does, and her butt is displayed. Taut. Firm. Slim, matching those slim hips, accentuating her long slender legs. Coltishly slender. One gold thread highlights and separates the two taut globes of her butt. A gold thread cuts across each hip and dips to hold that tiny triangle in place at the front.

She goes on to pose for Johan as she did before. She stands, she twists, she bends. She sits on the dresser, She spreads her legs. She places one foot up in the dresser. She kneels on it, She lies on it. She slips to the floor and bends over the end, smiling. She moves to the couch and displays herself. Sitting. Lying. On her back, Face down, Kneeling. Lying face down on the back. Lying on her back. Sitting upright. Lying now on that bed to, and face down, she appears almost naked

She glances over her shoulder at Johan, she tosses her hair back, she smiles, she twists and turns, she arches her back, she spreads her legs, she’s an invitation to break the law, and she has no idea. She’s doing what she’s been taught to do and Johan’s enjoying the show.

So am I.

I’m sure Johan’s clients are too.

At last he places his camera down and moves onto the bed to lie beside her, propped up on one elbow. She rolls over and sits up, facing him, cross-legged. “Was I good, Mr. Johan-san?” she asks.

“You were, Fumiko-chan,” Johan says. “Very good. I can see why men would buy those magazines with you in them.”

Fumiko giggles. “Do you think photos of me like this make men want to do things to me?” She hesitates, she’s breathing a little faster. I’m sure that’s what she’s thinking about. “Bad things?”

“Earlier, you said you’d like to be a bad girl, Fumiko-chan,” Johan says, sitting up, taking her hand in his, drawing her to her feet. She follows him as he seats himself in that armchair, allows herself to be drawn onto his lap again.

His lips casually brush the top of her head. Her head’s resting against his shoulder now. The drugs have really mellowed her out, she’s relaxed, drifting in a haze of what I’m sure is sensual arousal. Thinking bad thoughts, I’m sure. Johan seems sure too.

“Mmmmmm,” Fumiko agrees, her voice almost inaudible now. “A bad girl.”

“What would a bad girl do now, Fumiko-chan?” Johan’s hand is slowly caressing her thigh, from mid-thigh to just below her hip, all the way to that little string that runs across her slender hip.

“I don’t know, Mr. Johan-san,” Fumiko whispers, her face flushed. She licks her lips. “I’ve never been a bad girl.”

“A bad girl thinks about men, Fumiko-chan,” Johan smiles. “What are you thinking about now, Fumiko-chan?”

Fumiko shivers. She’s looking down at Johan’s hand on her thigh, huge on her thigh, gently stroking across her olive-silk skin. She swallows, shudders. “Men ... doing things to me,” she whispers. “Touching me ... telling me they want to do that thing to me ... Hiroyuki-san said he wanted to do that to me. He asked me.”

“Doing what thing to you, Fumiko-chan?”

“Sex,” Fumiko whispers. “Doing sex to me, putting their...” She hesitates.

“Putting their cock inside you?” Johan says, smiling, his hand stroking her. “Is that what Hiroyuki-san wanted to do?”

“Yes,” Fumiko whispers.

“And what did you tell him?”

“That was over a year ago,” Fumiko-chan says. “I told him we couldn’t. I told him maybe we could when I was older, but now I am in America.”

“Now you are older, too,” Johan says, smiling. “And you asked earlier if I found you sexually attractive, and now you are showing yourself to me in a way that you know men find exciting, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Johan-san,” Fumiko murmurs. “I am a bad girl.”

“But it is exciting to show yourself to me, isn’t it, Fumiko-chan?”

He chuckles. “And you have aroused me, you can feel that, can’t you?” He takes one of her hands and places it on that bulge within his trousers.

“Yes,” Fumiko whispers, her hand resting on him.

“And what did they teach you in school about what happens when a man becomes aroused?” He grins. “Did you memorize the textbook?”

Fumiko giggles. “That ... that a man’s ... his thing ... becomes erect for sex, and then the man inserts it through the vulva and labia and into the woman’s vagina, which is an elastic, muscular canal with a soft, flexible lining that provides lubrication and sensation during sexual intercourse. The hymen is right at the entrance to the vagina and it’s a thin membrane of tissue that surrounds and narrows the vaginal opening. It may be torn or ruptured by sexual activity or by exercise, and then there’s the labia minora, the labia majora, and the clitoris...”

She really has memorized all this. It’s as if she’s reciting it from her textbook material.

“The labia minora are inner vaginal lips on either side of the vaginal opening, between the labia majora. The labia majora are commonly known as the outer lips, while the clitoris is at the front junction of the labia minora and is the human female’s most sensitive erogenous zone and the primary anatomical source of human female sexual pleasure.”

She swallows nervously but she doesn’t stop. She’s obviously learnt all this rather thoroughly. I wonder how many times she read through it.

“The vagina receives the penis during sexual intercourse. The vulva and labia form the entrance, and the cervix of the uterus protrudes into the vagina, forming the interior end. When a woman has an orgasm, the cervical and uterine contractions are supposed to help draw semen into the uterus to improve the chances of getting pregnant.”

She hesitates, frowning. “And then there are the ovaries. They release an egg during each menstrual cycle. The egg travels down the fallopian tube here, where it can be fertilized by a male sperm which has been deposited in the vagina during sex, and the fertilized egg then moves into the uterus. A fertilized egg can implant itself into the lining of the uterus and when this happens a woman becomes pregnant.”

One of her hands rubs her flat taut stomach, circling, kneading a little.

“Mr. Johan-san?” Her voice is a whisper. “What does a man’s thing look like?”

“His thing?” Johan chuckles. “We call it his cock, Fumiko-chan. Try saying it.”

Fumiko shyly buries her face against Johan’s chest. She’s embarrassed but she says it anyway. “What does a man’s cock really look like, Mr. Johan-san? It is so hard to imagine what it is like for sex. How can it be so pleasurable, the way my father’s manga says it is?”

Ohhhh, somebody’s been reading her father’s Japanese porn. I wonder how long she’s been doing that. But she did say something about that before.

“It’s hard to imagine until you actually do it, Fumiko-chan, and I don’t think your textbooks tell you that sex feels really good, did they?” Johan smiles.

“No, but one of the girls in my class, Junko, she said that sex with a boy was great.” Fumiko shivers again. “She’s American-Japanese and she has sex with her boyfriend all the time,” she adds, virtuously. “She’s bad. All the girls from Japan said so.”

“You’d like to be a bad girl like Junko now that you’re in America, wouldn’t you, Fumiko-chan? You can do what the American-Japanese girls do and no-one would ever know. Would you like me to tell you what a bad girl would do now?”

“Yes,” Fumiko whispers, her face burning. “Yes I would. Tell me. What would a bad girl do?”

“Lie back a little and show me your panties.”

Johan doesn’t wait. He eases her back a little, so that rather than sitting on his lap, she’s half-lying there.

“Does that make you feel bad, Fumiko?” Johan asks.

“Yes,” Fumiko gasps, looking down at herself. Looking down at Johan’s hand, huge on her slender hip.

“Do you like feeling bad, Fumiko?”

“Yes,” she gasps again.

“I like making you feel bad, Fumiko-chan,” Johan purrs. I bet he does. I would to.

She sits on his lap, relaxing against him, wearing only that little hold halter top ad that tiny gold G-string. Nothing else.

She’s exquisite.

Johan might be a hyena, but right now, his prey is down to that halter top and those G-string panties, and she still has no idea that anything’s wrong. Not even when Johan’s hand slides back up her thigh to delicately cup her sex, his hand is huge on her, almost concealing that little triangle of gold. One of her little hands moves to rest on his, her mouth opens wider, she moans quietly as her body arches a little. Her body’s reacting, and I have an idea why.

Quack, those roofies, and the other stuff Johan’s slipped her in those drinks, those work as aphrodisiacs. They’re not magic, but I have an idea of what they do and how they work and she’s been drinking that stuff for an hour and a half now. Quack, it’s a hypnotic sedative and muscle relaxant. It kicks in after half an hour or so, peaks in the bloodstream within several hours, with a half-life of twenty to sixty hours, and it creates a euphoric high that really lasts. I can see Fumiko’s feeling it, and it’s not just the quack she’s taken.

That other stuff, Addyi, that’s female viagra, it’s supposed to increase the sensations around sexual arousal, increase vaginal sensitivity and lubrication, and make orgasms easier to achieve. And as for roofies? Everyone knows what roofies do. Medically, its for severe sleeping problems, but in Johan’s world, it’s the date-rape drug of choice, and a lot of these dudes like Johan, who run a stable of younger girls, they feed ‘em roofies to make it easier for everyone.

It’s sure making it easier for Johan right now, because what a roofie does is impair cognitive functions. Basically, it fucks with your mind, so that you can’t concentrate, you’re confused, you can’t remember things that happened. Fumiko’s got all of those and half a dozen shots of vodka in her. She’s not completely wiped, but she’s well under the influence, and her face when Johan’s hand cups her sex says that whatever she’s taken is having an effect.

She’s sexually stimulated.

She’s reacting to that hand. Her body is enjoying that intimate caress. Lost in that drug and alcohol fueled haze that’s enveloped her, Fumiko’s enjoying being a bad girl.

That smile on Johan’s face says he’s enjoying this too.

“Your pussy likes that, doesn’t it?” Johan says.

“Pussy?” Fumiko murmurs, her thighs spreading a little. “What is a pussy, Mr. Johan-san?”

“This is your pussy, and I’m sure what it’s for was covered in your sex education books and classes.” His fingers press against her sex.

“Ohhh.” Fumiko’s eyes open, she looks down at his hand, and she giggles. “That’s my...” she blushes pinkly.

“That’s what we call your pussy, Fumiko-chan. Or your cunt.”

“Pussy,” Fumiko smiles. “I like pussy, like a little kitten, all cute and furry. Miaowwww.” She giggles again.

“Kittens like being stroked, Fumiko. Does your little pussy like being stroked?” His fingers are moving on her, stroking her through her panties.

Fumiko’s hand continues to circle slowly on her stomach, but her other hand now moves, slowly, to rest on Johan’s where he is cupping her sex.

“Yes,” she sighs, eyes closed, body relaxed. “Yes, my pussy likes that, Mr. Johan-san.”

“Do you touch yourself here, Fumiko-chan?”

“Sometimes I do,” she murmurs. “Your hand is much better than mine, Mr. Johan.” She stirs a little, moving on his lap. “I am being so bad.”

She giggles. “I like being bad, Mr. Johan.”

“I like you being bad too, Fumiko-chan,” Johan says, teasing what I’m sure must be her clitoris. “I’d like you to be very very bad for me.”

“Ohhhhhhhh,” Fumiko moans. “Ohhhhhh Mr. Johan ... Mr. Johan-san.” Her head arches back, and now both her hands clutch at his. “Ohhhh, my pussy ... my pussy.”

She seems to have lost most of her inhibitions, and I don’t need to guess. That cocktail has really had an effect on her.

“Would you like to be very very bad for me, Fumiko-chan?” Johan purrs.

“Yes,” Fumiko sobs. “I’d like that.”

“I would too,” Johan says, one hand behind her back, unfastening that halter top and sliding it off her shoulders and down her arms in one swift move, exposing those firm little breasts with their already engorged and swollen nipples. Dark reddish-brown nipples that are large in contrast to those small boobs. Small for an American fourteen year old’s boobs, but deliciously firm and just right on a Japanese girl like Fumiko.

Fumiko barely seems to notice as her halter top is completely removed and discarded, onto the floor, leaving her in nothing but that ting gold G-string. She’s focused on what Johan’s fingers are doing to her sex though.

“Ohhhhhhhh.” Very focused.

“Oh yeah, your little cunt likes that, doesn’t it, Fumiko-chan?”

“Yes ... yes, Mr. Johan-san.” She’s lost in a haze of sensual arousal and excitement beyond anything she’s ever experienced or imagined. She’s responding to every brushing caress of Johan’s fingertips.

“Let me make it even better for you.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He doesn’t really need one because he’s going to do it anyhow.

Do it?

His hand leaves her sex, he hooks one finger under that G-String and he tugs it down effortlessly, all the way down to her knees and then off, exposing her. Exposing her sex as her legs fall apart almost limply.

Fumiko Suematsu is naked ... Her sex is almost hairless, a sparse little scattering of black that the camera slowly zooms in on. Her labia are pink and swollen, slightly parted, glistening with her arousal. Her clitoris is engorged, swollen, protruding from within those protective folds which have now parted slightly, exposing her little pink button.

That she’s naked, seated on Johan’s lap, relaxing in the cradle of one of his arms, her sex exposed, her breasts there for Johan’s eyes to feast on, and she’s not struggling or protesting in the slightest, that’s evidence of the potency of that cocktail that she’s been drinking.

One of Johan’s fingertips traces her labia, up one side, down the other, spreading her a little, exposing her inner entrance as she lies there, shuddering with helpless pleasure.

“You’ve never had anything in your pussy, Fumiko? Not even your own finger?” His finger continues to slowly caress her labia.

Fumiko hesitates, eyes half closed, face burning red. She knows she’s naked, “I’ve never,” she whispers at last. She’s embarrassed. Despite that embarrassment she makes no effort to conceal herself. She’s limp against Johan, breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling, aware of Johan’s eyes on her.

Enthralled. Helpless. That cocktail of drugs has done its work, and the way she’s reacting to that slow caress, she’s hypersensitive, those erogenous zones swollen and responding to every little touch, every gentle brush of his fingers, that red flush spreading downwards from her neck to her shoulders and those small firm boobs.

“You know, Fumiko-chan, seeing you like this is very arousing for me,” Johan purrs. “My cock’s really hard just from looking at you.”

“Your cock?” Fumiko shudders, her eyes wide open now, startled, confused. She licks her lips nervously, her face flushed. “Can I see it?”

“That’s very bad, Fumiko-chan,” Johan smiles.

“I want to be bad,” Fumiko says, rebelliously.

I can picture the background to that rebelliousness in my mind. Conservative Japanese parents, and I know they are. I’ve met her parents. Beautiful Japanese girl who’d like to date, but whose parents won’t permit her to do so, not even an innocent date with a good Japanese boy her own age. A growing awareness of sex, and she is fourteen, she’s aware of her own attractiveness. She knows about sex. She’s experimented with her own body, perhaps just a little. She’s thought about it. She wants it.

That cocktail of drugs that Johan has fed her has overwhelmed those cultural inhibitions, overwhelmed that obedience to her parent’s commands, eliminated any fears she would have had, relaxed her mind and her body, wiped away any self-imposed constraints and released those underlying urges and half-thought out desires, letting them bubble to the surface. Perhaps underneath everything, she’s aware of what’s happening, that she shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be accepting what is happening to her, but those drugs, that alcohol, they’ve eliminated her inhibitions, relaxed her body, and Johan’s slow caresses, his whispered words, have stoked that released desire in her mind, a desire that’s filling her now with a burning need.

Her nakedness, Johan’s eyes gazing down at her exposed body, his eyes filled with male desire for her as a woman, those gentle strokes to her labia, flooding her with liquid heat, sending ripples of shivering sensation to feed that growing pool of desire at her center. An intense desire that she’s never felt before, but now it’s a desire that is overwhelming her. Holding her enthralled, wanting more, and now the constraints of her mind have evaporated, releasing that need, releasing that desire, and Fumiko wants more.

All those thoughts, those feelings, I knew those. I’d experienced those self-same sensations and emotions, those desires, the restrictions of those cultural constraints. Me, I’d succumbed to temptation, but I was American-Asian, not Japanese. It’d been a lot easier for me. For Fumiko Suematsu, that cocktail Johan has fed her has done all of that for him, to the extent that she’s naked on the lap of a complete stranger who picked her up from a park outside her school and drove away with her.

Unaware, unsuspecting, innocent, those drugs have overwhelmed her mind without her even realizing what’s happening, and now those desires she might have been only barely aware of have been released. The outer Fumiko is already exposed, and now the inner Fumiko is being exposed too, and the inner Fumiko...

“Can I see it, please?” The inner Fumiko wants what’s happening.

“Can you see what, Fumiko-chan?” Johan’s finger teases the length of her slit, her pinkly swollen labia glistened, slippery with the evidence of her arousal, the little pink button of her clitoris engorging further as his fingertip circles with slippery slowness.

“Your cock,” Fumiko whispers. “I want to see a man’s cock.”

“Why don’t you stand up then,” Johan says, patting her butt. “And I’ll show you.”

Fumiko slides off his lap and stands before him, naked, staggering a little. Those drugs in her system, they’d do that. Still, that G-string was so tine she might almost have been naked before. It’s not such a huge step and she is enjoying Johan looking at her.

Johan stands smiling, and guides her to the edge of the bed. “Sit here.”

Fumiko sits, almost gratefully, her eyes following Johan as he walks to the small bar.

“Would you like another drink, Fumiko-chan?”

“Yes please,” Fumiko says. “But I want to see your cock.”

“Patience, patience,” Johan smiles, handing her another of those cocktails. Sprite, vodka, and I’m sure the drugs he’s feeding her are pre-mixed into those one-shot mini-bottles of vodka. They’ve already been opened.

Fumiko drinks thirstily, disregarding that she’s naked. She empties the glass, watching as Johan peels his shirt off. He takes the glass from her, returns it to the bar before turning back towards her.

“Why don’t you help me if you want to see it, Fumiko-chan?” he says, taking her hands in his, moving them to his belt.

“I’m being bad,” Fumiko giggles, her fingers fumbling as she unfastens his belt. “I’m a bad girl. Bad.” She’s slurring her words just a little.

Johan unzips his trousers, and as soon as she’s finished undoing his belt, he pushes them down and steps out of them, leaving him in loose silk boxers, his erection straining against them.

“You are being bad, Fumiko-chan,” Johan says. “Very bad.”

“Is that your cock?” Fumiko asks innocently, brushing that large bulge with the fingers of one hand, her other hand on one of his hips, balancing herself. She’s weaving a little, her eyes losing their focus for a second.

“Yes,” Johan grins down at her, but she’s not looking. Her focus is on that bulge pushing against his boxers. “Would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” Fumiko says, her fingertips tracing that bulge the way Johan’s fingertips had been tracing her slit. She wriggles a little on the bed.

“Take my boxers off for me,” Johan says, reaching down, taking her hands, placing them on the waistband of those silk shorts.

Fumiko glances up at him, her face pink, as she does as he tells her to. She works his boxers down, until his erection gets in the way, jutting straight outwards. She pulls his waistband out, jerking backwards, startled, letting go of his boxers as his cock springs free, inches from her face, jutting stiffly upwards.

“It’s so big,” she gasps, as Johan pushes his boxers down, stepping out of them as they fall to his ankles.

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Johan’s cock, and I’m impressed. Fumiko’s not wrong. It is big. As cocks go, it looks delicious. Long and thick, a bulbous head, veins across the surface, it’s almost a work of art and my sex pulses hotly at the sight.

“Can I touch it?” she asks next, hesitantly, looking up at him before looking back at his cock. “What are those?”

She’s eyeing his balls.

Johan chuckles. “Give me one hand, Fumiko.” He takes her soft little hand in his and cups her fingers around his testicle sac, so that his balls rest in the cup her hand makes. “These are my balls, Fumiko-chan. In your textbook, they’re probably called testicles, and this holding them is my scrotum. Here, we usually just refer to them as balls, and that’s where men’s semen comes from.”