Chapter 1

We had been stationed at Yokota Air Base near Tokyo for nearly a year in the mid 1990s when my wife, Carly, came to me and asked if I thought I’d like to take her to the big fertility festival south of the city the following day. She was fascinated by Japanese culture and wanted to learn as much about it as possible.

I was a recently promoted Air Force captain and newly married man when we got orders to go overseas for the first time. I wasn’t a lifer, but a guy who went into the service to get his degree through the ROTC. Now my new wife and I were taking full advantage of the adventure while it lasted.

During our assignment so far, we’d gone far and wide to participate in various aspects of Japanese life. We’d done everything from the snow festival in Sapporo to visiting an onsen. Carly had even begun teaching English to young adults as a way to make friends with the natives.

We had chosen to live off base and had a great house with sliding doors and tatami mat floors. Carly didn’t want to waste this opportunity by living in ‘little America.’

I’d heard about fertility festivals as some of my fellow officers had gone to them in previous years and shared how crazy they were. The festivals are one of the bizarre activities in the country as they feature parades of phallic symbols and other strange sexual shit.

So when Carly asked the question while dressed in a brand new colorful Japanese robe, I decided to have some fun, as she was so easily embarrassed. You see, the robe, called a happi coat, just covers the top of the body and her legs were bare.

“Baby, we haven’t even been trying for a baby that long. Do you think we need to take such a drastic step? I mean, praying to false idols?” I asked sarcastically.

“No ... that’s not what I ... I mean I just think it would be a beautiful cultural experience for us.” She nervously twisted her engagement ring around her finger. “But the Japanese do believe these festivals bring blessings for couples hoping to conceive.”

The festivals were, in fact, to honor the various deities, who are prayed to for childbirth, marital harmony, and protection from sexually transmitted diseases. One of the premier ones is Kanamara Matsuri held in Kawasaki, Japan, in early April, for the Shinto religion, the primary nativist religion in Japan.

The whole thing was a little weird. Because of the odd sexual nature of these events, the base didn’t really promote them or even communicate with us about them much. If you wanted to go, you had to learn about the practice from locals or Americans who had previously attended them.

“So you just want to experience the culture, hmmm?” I looked at her with feigned dismay, knowing that I had her back on her heels. “I think you might just want to touch a huge fake cock?” I said with a smile.

Her cheeks flushed bright red at my crude remark, her hands instinctively crossing over her ample chest as she looked down at my feet. I had been adding the discussion of other cocks into our sex play for months and it seemed to be a bit of a turn on. Yet out of the bedroom, the discussion of it seemed to embarrass her.

“Lance, that’s not ... I just thought it would be something meaningful for us to share together. The festival is supposed to be very spiritual and beautiful.”

“As much as I would like to see you prancing around in this sexy little outfit, I heard it was just an excuse to drink heavily and laugh at Japanese culture.” I had a mental image flip through my head of my busty blond wife being the center of attention, stared at by drunk and horny Japanese and other foreign men.

I watched her physically deflate at my dismissive tone, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her happi coat sleeve as she looked out of our base housing apartment window. A big C-141 cargo plane was taking off at the moment, heading back to the States, most likely.

“I really don’t think that’s fair, honey. The Japanese take their traditions very seriously - it’s not about mocking anything,” she said, turning back to me with a hesitant smile as she showed me a picture from a Japanese magazine of a covered shrine being carried through the street. The image didn’t show anything I thought might shock her at a fertility festival.

I could see she was completely serious and might not really understand these festivals. “Baby, of course I’ll go if you want, but be prepared for it to be a lot of drunk foreigners having fun watching this particular bizarre Japanese tradition.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly at my agreement, though her strained nervous smile remained. “Thank you for being willing to go with me, honey. I promise it won’t just be foreigners making fun of things - I’ve been reading about the spiritual significance.”

I tapped my fingers on the kitchen counter not always sure how to tell Carly just how wrong she was. She often blindly went into things with childlike enthusiasm only to find out later that she didn’t quite get what was going on. A particular strip club adventure sprung to mind.

“Tell me what you learned, baby,” I said, smiling indulgently. “And then I’ll tell you what I heard from guys who’ve been to Kawasaki.”

Her eyes lit up at my interest, nervousness fading as she got to share what she’d read and heard from her students. “Well, the festival honors the god of fertility. The main procession carries these magnificent shrines through the streets while people pray for good, healthy families.”

There was silence as I waited for more, but she just smiled at me blankly waiting for my response. Shit. She didn’t know.

“Do you know what’s in those shrines?”

“In the shrines?”

“Ok, baby. This is what the guys told me.

The festival started in the 17th century when prostitutes prayed to the Shinto gods to protect them from sexually transmitted diseases.”

Carly’s eyes widened suddenly at my unexpected historical fact, her research-happy expression faltering for just a moment before she regained her composure. “Oh ... I hadn’t read that particular origin story in my cultural guides.”

She shifted uncomfortably, but continued on. “But the modern celebration focuses more on blessings for marriages now - it’s really quite beautiful how traditions evolve.”

“Honey, those shrines are carrying big effigies of cocks. Young women place their hands on them hoping to be blessed with a baby.”

My wife’s face burned crimson as she stepped back in alarm. “Lance, please don’t call it that ... it’s a sacred object, not ... not what you said.”

“You know that as a young woman, you’ll need to lay your hands on the big cock to get it to work?”

She took a shaky breath, trying to maintain some composure despite her racing heart. “The guidebook said visitors can gently touch the mikoshi for blessings, but it’s done with reverence, not...”

“Baby, I know you like this country and it’s odd rituals, but it’s a big cock, a massive dildo.”

She pressed her sexy plump lips together, feeling both embarrassed and a little hurt by my continued crude descriptions of something she found culturally significant. “It’s called a ‘mikoshi,’ Lance. And it represents much more than ... physical anatomy.”

“Giving it a Japanese name doesn’t change what it is, baby. I’ve seen pictures the guys took. It’s a big dick, honey.”

Her cheeks flushed even deeper, her cultural enthusiasm deflating completely. “Oh ... I suppose... “ she stuttered while tugging her happy coat tightly around her curvy body, suddenly feeling silly. “Maybe we shouldn’t go after all. I didn’t realize it would be quite so ... inappropriate.”

Now I felt like shit. I’d handled it badly and made her feel stupid and embarrassed. Then, I acted to my character and stupidly laughed at her. Doubling down, I chose to poke more fun at her.

“Now, we have to go,” I stated with a grin.

She looked up at me with wide, surprised eyes, her hands still nervously clutching her sleeves. “But Lance, I thought you said...” Her voice trailed off as she realized I was teasing her again, a small smile finally returning to her lips. “You really want to go see the ... festival after all?”

“I want to see you surrounded by all these big dicks. Look at how discombobulated you look just thinking about it.”

Her breath caught in her throat as I made that statement, her body tensing while her mind raced with conflicting emotions. She looked like she wanted to run from the room with embarrassment.

But something held her there. Was she strangely intrigued by my teasing, by the sexual content of the discussion? “I’m not ... I’m not discombobulated, I just want to understand the cultural significance properly.”

“Oh, me too,” I said, mockingly. “I’m dying to see the cultural significance of my sexy blonde wife surrounded by all these huge penises and horny Japanese men.”

Her face burned hotter than ever as she pressed her hands against her warm cheeks, her heart pounding in her chest. “Lance, please ... you’re making me feel so self-conscious about this.”

She glanced toward our bedroom door, suddenly wondering if she should change out of the happi coat. “Maybe I should wear something less ... traditional ... if it could draw that kind of attention.”

I stepped up to her, took the belt of her little Japanese robe in my hands, and opened the garment, so it hung open from her shoulders. That wardrobe change revealed a full tight halter top and tight jean cutoff shorts underneath.

“Is this what you plan to wear? It’s perfect. Show off those big American tits and sexy ass — to me and all those other men.”

Carly gasped softly as I took in the sight of her amazing body. She instinctively crossed her arms over her chest to cover some of her assets underneath.

“Lance, you’re embarrassing me again.”

Her voice trembled slightly as she looked down at her revealing outfit, feeling unexpectedly exposed. “I just thought the Japanese robe would be more respectful for the festival, and I could still be cool ... you know ... underneath.”

“You will be dressed just like everyone else. You may be shocked at how people will be dressed.”

She bit her lip nervously, looking between her open coat and my amused expression. “But they’ll all be wearing traditional clothing, not American summer outfits...”

She slowly pulled the happi coat back around her shoulders, fingers trembling as she retied the sash. “Maybe I should keep this on after all - I don’t want to disrespect their customs.”

I took her hands and opened her happi coat again. “The guys told me it was strange to see the usually staid and proper Japanese people pretty loosely dressed under their happy coats. You’ll fit in great.”

Of course, I knew that the Japanese men would stare at my busty blonde wife as they always did. In fact, they would now look at her with drunken amorous looks. It kind of turned me on to think of all those guys fantasizing about fucking my sexy blonde wife.

Her eyes widened thinking of what I just said, but my steady gaze must have calmed her. I watched as her nervousness slowly gave way to reluctant acceptance. “Oh ... I suppose you’re right. I didn’t realize people dressed so casually underneath.”

“This is a rare time when the rigid Japanese let their guard down. It will be fun to watch,” I said. “You’re right, sweetheart. We should go to the festival.”

Her shoulders relaxed as I finally sincerely agreed to go, a genuine smile spreading across her beautiful face. It reminded me once more how truly stunning she could be and what a lucky man I was.

“Thank you for understanding, Lance. I think we’ll both learn something beautiful about Japanese culture tomorrow.” She carefully retied her coat, feeling a new sense of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation.

Once again, I reached out and took the fabric of her garment into my hands and pulled her to me. “I’m just going to see you be the center of attention.”

“Lance, you’re embarrassing me again,” she said quietly as a smile and a blush crept across her face.

“It’s just you and me here, baby. No one else can hear what I’m saying. Doesn’t it turn you on, thinking about all those men looking at you?”

She looked around as if expecting someone else to be listening. “It’s daytime! It’s embarrassing to talk about this stuff when the sun is up. We only do that when we...”

My lovely Carly was a baffling woman. I had never met a more amorous girl, a more sexual girl — but only under the cover of darkness. By day, she was afraid that her friends and family were waiting around the next corner and absolutely refused to engage in any sexual activity. Even getting a little smooch was done with reluctance.

I took her hand in a firm grip and started to pull her across the kitchen. A big smile spread across my face as we headed into the living area.

“What are you doing?” she said as a look of panic flashed on her exquisite face.

“Pushing boundaries. Testing your will. Seeing what you will do for me.”

“Lance!”

We started down the hall toward the bedroom, and my smile got broader. “Let’s fuck in the daytime.”

“Lance! We’ve never ... done that.”

“A woman with a body like yours can’t be that modest.”

She giggled playfully, her cheeks flushing pink at my bold words. “Don’t you know that every woman is embarrassed about her body. We all see the flaws and obsess about them.”

“You have no flaws.”

“Aawwww.” She threw herself into my arms, and we kissed.

I lead us into our sunlit bedroom, letting go of her hand, so I could saunter over to the bed. I crawled onto the mattress of our queen-sized bed, teasingly.

“Are you trying to be sexy?” She laughed.

“I’m a sexy bastard,” I stated.

She threw her head back with laughter at my cheeky response, her long blonde hair cascading behind her as she sat down on the bed. Her eyes sparkled with mirth and desire.

“Well, well, aren’t you just the cockiest man?” she purred, crawling in my direction until she was perched right next to me. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders.

Feeling emboldened by her touch, I pulled her to me, pressing her big firm breasts against my chest. She gazed up at me through hooded blue eyes, her full lips parted invitingly.

“Mmmm, maybe you are...,” she breathed sultrily. “Maybe that’s why I fell head over heels for you, darling.”

I kissed her softly, letting my tongue invade her mouth. A soft moan slipped from her lips as our tongues entwined, my fingers tangling in her hair. I arched closer, feeling the heat between us grow.

My hands slid down her back, shedding her of the happi coat and pressing her tighter against me. The sunlight caught the glint in her eyes as I broke the kiss.