Chapter 2

Once at home, we didn’t speak of the festival or Inoue for days. Instead, you could feel each of our minds whirling in their own little sealed vacuums. We would sit together and simply watch TV at night holding each other with even more care and intimacy than before.

I found myself stealing glances at Carly, wondering what thoughts preoccupied her mind. Was she replaying those heated moments, as I often do? Was she thinking about me admitting how much the whole damn thing turned me on?

The main thought in my head obviously was a video loop playing over and over. I kept seeing that old man’s wrinkled hands on my young wife’s big perfect tits and how she’d responded to his touch.

I couldn’t shake it, and I didn’t really try all that hard. I went into the men’s room at work and wacked off a couple of times a day just to relieve the damn stress these visions were creating.

It was midweek before Carly broke then heavy silence between us and brought it up. We were having breakfast one morning when she said that Inoue had called her.

“How did he get our number?”

She avoided my pointed gaze as she fiddled with her fork and knife, a light blush coloring her cheeks. Pausing briefly, she took a deep breath before starting.

“I gave it to him ... you know ... in case.”

“In case of what”

“In case ... I don’t know ... we wanted to stay in contact with him.”

I stare at her incredulously across the kitchen table, my spoon clattering against my oatmeal bowl as I set it down. A frown etched itself onto my features as confusion and a hint of irritation colored my tone.

“Baby, you have his card. We could have called him if we had some important Japanese history/culture/language question for him.”

She fidgeted nervously with a napkin, unable to meet my accusing gaze directly.

“You know how I teach English to Japanese girls?” She stopped and waited for my acknowledgment. “Well ... I thought ... he might teach me about Japan ... if you don’t mind.”

Carly’s cheeks flushed pink as she trailed off, finally glancing up to gauge my reaction. I saw in her blue eyes a tentative hopefulness mixed with apprehension.

“Anyway, he invited me to come back for lessons. He said I showed great potential and needed further guidance.”

“I’ll bet he did. So, did you actually call him first?” She blushed but assured me that she didn’t.

“Did you want to?” She blushed deeper red and said that she had.

“He said that few Americans show the kind of interest in Japanese culture that I have. And he enjoyed our discussions about Shinto traditions and encouraged me to continue exploring them. Privately.”

She bit her lower lip, squirming slightly in her chair under my intense scrutiny “I ... I did think about calling him back. Not right away ... The more I reflected on our talks and the unique insights he offered, the more I believed I could benefit from continuing to learn under his guidance.”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to broach the elephant in the room. We had to talk about the thing that was weighing on my mind and had to be on hers as well.

“About what happened at Inoue’s apartment...”

She inhaled sharply at my abrupt mention of the night of the festival, her already flushed cheeks burned even hotter. She averted her eyes, focusing intently on folding and refolding her napkin.

“Y-yes, about that ... I owe you an explanation, Lance. Things got rather heated, and I lost sight of boundaries in the midst of such a ... culturally immersive experience.”

Taking a deep breath, she forced her eyes to meet mine. “Can you ever forgive me for letting things go so far with Inoue? I truly am sorry.”

I was glad that she felt bad about letting the old man touch her without my permission, but we’d certainly played the game. I could see how she might think that was what I wanted.

“I wonder why you let him touch you. With all the handsome young guys in the world, on this base...”

She blushed deeply at my pointed question, fidgeting uncomfortably. “Well, it’s just ... he has this way about him. Such wisdom. Being around him made me feel ... alive, in a completely new and exhilarating way. I see why college girls go for professors.”

I waited to respond because what I wanted to say might have been considered not nice and might not be taken well. Considering my words carefully, I took a deep breath and said, “I think you also like that such an educated man is giving you attention for the first time.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks again as she considered my words. She took a slow sip of coffee, gathering her thoughts before responding.

“Well, it’s true that I’ve always admired intelligence ... But Inoue-sensei’s knowledge feels different. It’s so ancient, so deeply rooted in this land we’re living in.”

“So, you find him a little mystical?”

“Yyeeess, perhaps a bit mystical ... His wisdom seems timeless, untouched by modern trivialities. Around him, I feel transported to another era ... I guess.”

She paused, then added softly, almost wistfully, “And maybe, on some level, I enjoy basking in the glow of someone finding me ... fascinating.”

“I have always found you fascinating, baby.”

She blinked rapidly at my declaration, a gentle smile tugging at her mouth. She reached across the table to intertwine her fingers with mine.

“Oh darling, I know you do. Sometimes a girl needs to hear it from someone she loves, especially after she’s done something silly like getting too wrapped up in cultural lessons.” She squeezed my hand gently.

“I’m lucky to have a husband as patient and forgiving as you. Most men wouldn’t be nearly so understanding about their wife letting an older gentleman get quite so ... familiar.”

“Well baby, that’s nice of you to say, but remember that I let it all happen.” We fell silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of my admission. Her brow furrowed slightly as she tried to reconcile the image of the husband she knew with the revelation that I made.

She searched my face, while my heart pounded, grappling with the implication of my confession

“I want to make sure I understand, Lance. You’re telling me that ... you wanted him to touch me.” A shaky laugh escaped her lips as realization dawned. “That’s why you hesitated outside the door, why you didn’t intervene.”

I took a second to answer, trying to get my thoughts together, balancing my secret desires with my concern for my wife’s welfare.

“I saw him touch you at the shrine, his old weathered hand wrapping around your waist. I saw the predatory look in his eye as he did it. He wanted me to see it. He wants to fuck you, honey. It made my blood boil and my cock harder than ever.”

Her jaw dropped open in shock at my blunt, graphic honesty. A wave of heat rushed through her, settling between her thighs as images flooded her mind. Inoue’s gnarled hand on her unblemished skin, his hungry gaze raking over her curves. She squeezed her legs together, suddenly aching with a forbidden desire.

“I-I ... Lance, that’s so dirty,” she whined, even as her body betrayed her arousal. “Why would you say such a thing?” Despite my weak protest, she couldn’t ignore the thrill my words sent through me.

“You’re not fooling me. I know that you like that. Here is this guy who you admire who also wants you. You’re human, baby.”

She flushed scarlet, averting her gaze as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. My bold assertion hung heavy in the air between us, forcing her to confront desires she barely acknowledged to herself.

“I ... I don’t know what you mean, Lance. Of course I appreciate Inoue-sensei’s knowledge and guidance, but that doesn’t imply anything improper!” Her embarrassment was palpable.

I stood up and walked around her chair. Bending down, I brought my hands around her little lace nightie lifting her breasts. “That’s why you let him touch you, and why your head fell back onto his manly chest when he grabbed your boobs like this.”

She gasped sharply as my hands cupped her, nipples hardening instantly beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown. She leaned her head back instinctively, resting it against my shoulder as a shudder ran through her body.

“Oh God, Lance ... This isn’t fair. You can’t just ... Ahhhnnn!”

Encouraged, I pushed on. “You liked those strange hands in you, baby. You liked having his old hands groping you.”

She whimpered softly, pulse quickening as my hands kneaded her sensitive flesh. I knew her normal mode would have been to push me away and put a stop to this dangerous line of conversation, but her traitorous body arched into my touch instead.

“Shhh, please d-don’t say such things ... It’s not proper for a married woman to have such thoughts. I’m your wife. Only y-you should stir feelings like th-those in me.”

“But you did like it, didn’t you? You asked him to touch you. You told him you wanted it. That’s why he’s pushing for more.”

She trembled again under my touch, a moan threatening to spill from her lips as my thumbs brushed over her stiffened peaks. Panting softly, she turned her head to the side, avoiding my penetrating gaze even as her body yielded to my ministrations.

“N-no ... I never said any such thing!”

“Maybe you don’t remember, but I do. He told you to put yourself in his hands to put a baby in your belly and you said you wanted it.”

She shuddered violently at my recollection, tears springing to her eyes as the mortifying memory resurfaced. She grabbed my wrists, pulling her hands away from her aching breasts as she stood abruptly, putting distance between us.

“No! No! ... I couldn’t have said such a thing! You must have misheard, misunderstood...” Her hands went to her face as she realized just what she’d said that night. “Oh, my God ... what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re Dirty Girl Carly,” I said with a smile. “And if I had time, I’d show you just how dirty, but I’m off to work.” With that outrageous statement, I slipped out the door smiling from ear to ear.

She stood there stunned for a long moment after I left, the shocking words echoing in her ears. A confusing maelstrom of emotions swirled inside her - humiliation and fear certainly, but beneath it all, a shameful undercurrent of excitement.

When I came home that night, we had plans to go out to the officer’s club for dinner with some friends. When I walked in the door, Carly was wearing a hoodie sweatshirt and jeans that were really baggy. While her face was made up as if to go out, the outfit was the least sexy thing she could possibly wear.

She looked up at me, quickly wiping away any traces of distress from earlier. She offered me a strained smile, self-consciously tugging at the hem of the oversized hoodie. The baggy jeans rubbed together as she shifted awkwardly.

“H-hey honey, you’re home.”

“Did you remember that we’re going out?”

She bit her lower lip, glancing down at her ill-fitting outfit self-consciously. “O-Oh, I ... Yes, of course I remembered. I just ... wasn’t sure if I should dress up ... too much.”

She fidgeted nervously, hugging her arms around herself. “To be honest, Lance, I feel pretty shaken up after our talk this morning.”

“Why baby?” I asked.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, meeting my gaze with conflicted blue eyes. “I ... I thought it might be best if I stayed home tonight and gave myself some time to process everything.” She gestured vaguely at herself. “Do you think I’m a slut?”

“Baby! You’re taking this want too seriously. You’ve had just one lover and you’re married to him. No one would consider you to be a slut. I was just having fun earlier. It was just sexy talk that I thought we both liked.”

Carly wrapped her arms tighter around herself, practically disappearing into the baggy hoodie as if trying to physically hide. Her voice cracked emotionlessly,

“I know you like to embarrass me, but I’m used to that now. It’s me I’m worried about.”

I could see her pain now at what I’d said that morning, and I felt awful. I knew that I had the power to influence her ideas, her guilt, her embarrassment, and that I had not always been careful with that power. “I was just screwing around like I always do.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she struggled to articulate the turmoil inside her. “W-well, I can’t help but worry about what these feelings mean, Lance. About what sort of person it makes me, wanting ... desiring things beyond our marriage.”

“When I put my hand on that big effigy, I felt something ... you know,” she continued. “ I felt completely feminine ... in a powerful way ... And now I’m terrified of losing control, of hurting you or damaging our relationship. Yet I can’t seem to shake these shameful urges no matter how hard I try.”

I listened intently as she spoke, my expression softening with empathy to her turmoil despite my own. She unwrapped her arms, reaching out tentatively to place a comforting hand on my chest.

“Oh Lance ... I don’t understand these desires and conflicting emotions. It’s scary to acknowledge certain things about yourself, especially when they go against what society expects of us. Or what we expect of ourselves.”

I felt my head nodding slowly as I considered her words. After a moment, I said, “I think what you’re feeling is perfectly normal. I think most people have someone who they want in addition to their spouse. I read somewhere that humans aren’t naturally monogamous, that marriage is a societal construct to keep us manageable by the church and the government.”

“So, you don’t think I’m a monster for...

for wanting ... things with Inoue-sensei?”

Her hand remained on my chest, fingers curling lightly into my uniform shirt. She searched my face, desperate for reassurance yet afraid to hope for it.

“Of course not.” It was so easy to give her that reassurance because it matched what I desired. Though this old Japanese guy was not someone I would have chosen, he obviously turned her on. That he was a little creepy, and possibly mystical, added something I couldn’t define.

She inhaled shakily, her fingertips trembling slightly where they rested against my chest. Tears glisten in her sapphire eyes. “Oh Lance, hearing you say that ... it means more than you know. For days, I’ve been wracked with guilt and confusion, feeling like a horrible person for entertaining these forbidden desires.”

If I ever wanted my fantasy to come true, this was the moment. What I said in the next few minutes could make it happen or bury it forever.

“You know we have had some bedroom talk about other men, other cocks, and that I was turned on by what I saw the other night,” I started.