Okinawa Boys

by ChrisCross

Copyright© 2017 by ChrisCross

Erotica Sex Story: When a twenty-eight-year-old Air Force mechanic serving at Kadena Airbase in Okinawa in the early 1970s wakes up after a drunken binge in a Koza City bar to find himself being serviced by a fourteen-year-old boy while the boy's permissive B-girl mother is having sex nearby with the airman's buddy, he starts on a journey of realizing his appetite is for fourteen-year-old boys.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/Ma   Ma/mt   Consensual   Reluctant   Gay   Fiction   Historical   Military   MaleDom   White Male   Oriental Male   Oriental Female   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Public Sex   Prostitution   .

I woke with a splitting headache, the result of the bad booze--and lots of it--at Queenie’s Bar in Koza City, outside Gate 2 of the Kadena Airbase in Okinawa. I also woke on my back, naked, with the sensation of arms laced in my legs, spreading them and a soft mouth sucking my cock. My pelvis was swaying with movement of the mouth on my cock. Needless to say, I woke moaning lowly and thoroughly enjoying the attention I was getting.

I was on a pallet on the ground in some sort of low-roofed makeshift shack. It certainly wasn’t Queenies, although I couldn’t remember much of the night at the bar and certainly not how I got here.

We--whoever was sucking me off and I--were in a small space marked off by woven bamboo walls from other spaces, all of them cluttered with the necessities of life but all in order, making the best use possible of the limited space. By turning my head, I could see Chip in another interior space fucking a B-girl from Queenie’s last night. Her I remembered. An Okinawan woman, looking young, but probably not that young, hanging on Chip and me in the bar and pushing drinks and her tits on us both. Increasingly her attention had gone to Chip, though, as I think she realized that my interest just wasn’t there.

Koza City in the early 1970s was a condoned haven of releasing pent-up American solider, airmen, and sailor sexual tension. The Okinawan government condoned it because it brought huge amounts of capital into the Japanese province. The Air Force brass on Kadena Airbase condoned it, because boys would be boys, and having testosterone explode outside the base was better than inside.

She was naked now--she had a good body--and so was Chip--naked and having a good body. I think she sensed at Queenies that I was more interested in Chip’s body than hers, and she was right. She was on her back on a pallet in another room of the shack, but in my line of sight, and Chip was fucking her good. He was between her legs, thrusting inside her with long slides and she was giving him a lot of vocal response in the local Okinawan dialect.

God, Chip looked good naked and performing, his muscular body tensing and relaxing as he pumped her cunt and squeezed her tits.

The B-girl between my legs, sucking me off, wasn’t that vocal. That probably was because she had a mouthful of cock, though. I closed my eyes with a sigh, and took her head between my hands, running my fingers into her long, straight, coarse hair, and moving her head on my cock in coordination with my thrusts into her throat now that I was awake.

I was in full erection, my eyes on Chip’s body, when the mouth came off my cock and started to lick through my pubic bush and up my flat belly, the abs I was proud of, and then to my nipples, where they paused and gave suck as my bulb was grabbed by a hole and drawn inside. I kept my eyes on Chip’s undulating body as the figure above me changed positions and holes to receive my cock.

With a groan, I opened my eyes to see who was starting to ride my cock now, not remembering whether there had been another B-girl playing Chip and me at Queenie’s the night before. Nobuko. That had been the name of the Okinawan whore working Chip and me--Chip more than me, which was obvious, as he was the one fucking her now.

My eyes slitted open, expecting the whore on top of me to not be the best looking and surprised I could even get it up for an Okinawan B-girl. And then my eyes flew open and I emitted an involuntary, “Fuckin’ A” exclamation. It wasn’t a B-girl riding me at all. It was a boy--long haired and pretty of face, but definitely a boy, his small cock bouncing up and down on my flat belly as he rode me. And he was definitely riding me. He’d sunk nearly all the way down on my hard-on, and I’m not stubby. He was pressing his palms into my pecs, and he was moving with great animation--rising and falling on the cock and moving forward and back and side to side and revolving on the hard shaft, pulling it around at all angles and causing me to groan deeply.

I was in him and in him to stay until we’d both fired off. A surge of electricity charged through my body. I knew I should push him off to the side. He wasn’t even a man; he was a boy. And an exotic one at that. He was mixed race. Japanese, or Okinawan, really, which was a variation of Japanese, but he also was black. Okinawa had a lot of black by-blows fucked into Okinawan B-girls by black American servicemen on one-night stands or short-term joy rides and then deserted. The B-girls professed to like the blacks because of their big cocks, cockiness, and rough manners. This obviously was one of those by-blows. On him, it had been a great mixing, though. He was a beautiful boy.

The issue was that he fulfilled a secret fantasy of mine. I was to learn that his name was Toma, that he was the son of Nobuko, and that he was fourteen. It was a secret that, although I fucked the B-girls of Okinawa as camouflage, I really wanted to fuck my fellow Air Force jet mechanics from Kadena. I’d gone to Queenie’s with the nineteen-year-old hunk, Chip, because I secretly wanted to make him, even though I knew we most likely would wind up with B-girls.

And even more of a secret than that, I really wanted to fuck young teen boys. I was a twenty-eight-year-old jet mechanic in the Air Force and what I really wanted to do was fuck fourteen-year-old boys.

Toma was a beautiful, luscious fourteen-year-old boy. And he was fucking himself on my cock, riding my shaft hard. I didn’t remember having done anything to get us in this position. But we were here, and headache or no headache and the risk that the Air Police would bust us or not, I had a beautiful fourteen-year-old boy riding my cock. Damn right that I just grabbed his waist between my hands and bounced him up and down on my cock until we’d both shot our loads.

And then, after a short rest, I’d gathered him under me; brought him up to his knees and elbows; held his small, trembling brown body close under me with an arm around his belly; mounted his ass; and fucked him again. He was fully submissive, going with whatever position I manipulated him into, and exposing his sweet, puckered open hole to me to plug as I wished. I merged with him, with my hard cock deep in the soft, yielding quick of his sweet center, coaxing his passage walls to open to my swollen invasion. And they did, and we moved together and groaned and moaned and sighed together as one. We bucked together and came together.

There were just the two of us in the world, merging and moving together. When I had come and was holding position, but the boy and I concentrating on my cock going softer deep inside him--but not soft, as I was overcome with want and the unexpected opportunity to serve that want--I turned my head to take in another view of the handsome, well-muscled naked body of Chip. He was in the other compartment doing the same to Nobuko, mounted on her like a dog, panting hard, holding her steady, suspending his thrusts, his butt twitching like he was pumping her with cum--the expression on her face confirming that that was exacting what he was doing, tensing and releasing cum, tensing and releasing cum.

She was gathered under him, his arm encasing her belly, holding her close to him, and moaning and twitching with each burst of cum. Overcome, I went hard again. The boy groaned but said something in his native dialect that I took as encouragement, and I started the fuck again and he recommenced moving his hip with the rhythm of my thrusts.

This time when I came, the flow wasn’t as prodigious, as consuming, as before. But still I wasn’t satisfied. Still I was hard. I was having my fantasy time with a beautiful brown, fourteen-year-old boy. I turned him onto his back on the pallet and stretched out beside and hovering over him. My left arm cupped his head and my right hand roamed his sweet, slim body, gliding over the young, resilient brown flesh, cupping mounds and exploring crevices. I could hardly believe that I had the sweet, supple body of an early-team boy yielding to my touch. He was fully docile and compliant to my demands.

He spread and bent his legs, raising his pelvis so that I could penetrate him with my finger and feel the wetness I had deposited there, three times already. We both knew there would be a fourth just as soon as I could manage it. He moved his buttocks slowly on my hand. I inserted another finger and he was fucking himself on my hand. The boy knew what he was doing, knew how to excite and harden me. He did this with other men, I knew. I wasn’t taking anything from him; he was giving it to me. If he wasn’t doing it with me, he’d be doing it with other men.

“Hump me again, big boy. Put your big dick in me again,” he whispered provocatively to me. As soon as I was hard enough, I did that, swinging my legs over and between his, sliding my knees under his butt and pulling his pelvis up onto my thighs. His hole was open, inviting. I had done that, reamed him glaring open. I was going to do that again. I grasped his waist in my hands, and pulled him up, onto my cock, and then pulled him deeper and deeper yet. I began the dance of the fuck, and he looked up at me with those big, world-knowing brown eyes, his arms stretched out sacrificial from his sides, his long hair shimmering around is head, and murmured words he undoubtedly had learned in English to incite other American airmen who got off fucking fourteen-year-old boys. “Yes, big fly boy. You gotta big, big dick. Dick me hard. Dick me deep. Make me cry.”

Tired, but still full of lust, I held him under me, stopping the thrusts, and he took over, thrusting his hips up on the cock, arching his back, fucking himself on me. I gave him the last spurt of cum in me and collapsed on top of him, still inside him, and we panted softly, me kissing him on the lips and cheeks and the hollow of his neck and on his pert little nipples, him making little humming noises and reaching down with a small hand and rolling and squeezing my aching balls, pulling every drop of cum out of me.

This time when I looked into the other compartment, Chip had Noboku up on her knees, facing me. He was kneeling behind her and was inside her. He was cupping her chin with one hand, pulling her head back into the hollow of his chest and, his own head lowered, his face buried in her course black hair. His other hand palmed her slightly rounded belly, holding her close to him, him buried inside her. Her breasts shimmered in waves with the movement of his cock in her. She was looking at me with dreamy eyes, her arms just dangling in surrender at her side. She had a slight smile on her face. She was watching me fucking her son without the slightest hint of censure. I was flooded with the feeling that this was OK. It was OK to prefer a fourteen-year-old boy over a man or even a woman with such a lovely body as Noboku had.

When we left, their shack being one of a bunch of them leaning up against each other down a dirt street off the Koza City main drag coming out of Kadena Gate 2, both Chip and I turned our pockets inside out and gave them all the yen we had with us.

Noboku invited us to come back anytime, and Toma plastered himself to me and looked up into my eyes with his big browns whenever I took a peek at him and put the invitation more crudely, “You gotta big, big dick, flyboy,” he said in ruptured English. “You put it in me all the day long. You make me happy happy. I do hump hump with you make you happy too.”

Later I asked Chip if he had any idea why I’d wound up with a boy. I was quite concerned about what he thought of that, not just that I’d been with a boy when I was only semiconscious, but that I had fucked him a second time when I was fully awake--and that Chip had seen that. But he was quite good about it.

“When you were drunk in the bar, you were saying you wanted to fuck me and were making advances,” Chip said. “I knew your guard was down because you were drunk. I wanted to fuck Nobuko and she told me she had a son who fucked men. So, we went back to her place. You seemed quite happy with the boy. I knew before we went to the bar that you were more interested in making me than the B-girls. But it seems you really want fourteen-year-old boys, so that’s all good.”

Obviously, Chip and I weren’t going to do that again together. We were going to concentrate on holding our liquor better and not being entrapped like this. And it may have turned out that way with Chip, but not with me.

Pandora’s box had flipped open. The next time I got an off-base pass, I was back at the shack and inside the shack and on top of Toma, between his legs, and inside him as he writhed under me, egging me on, and I did hump hump and made very happy happy with him.

Noboku seemed very happy with the arrangement as well. A good portion of my wages check was going to her and her luscious son who so readily opened his legs to me and sucked my hard cock into his tight channel.

Weeks later, after the routine had been established that I came to the shack in Koza City whenever I could get an off-base pass and Noboku went off and found Toma wherever he was, I fucked him, and then paid Noboku, I was asked by an Air Force colonel who had been eyeing me and paying extra attention to me to drive him to Naha City, the island’s capital for a conference. He’d be at the conference for three days and he’d sign me out to drive him and I would be free during the days and could use the car. All I had to do was be in his bed in the nights. He knew what I could and would do. We’d both gotten plowed at a private party at the Officer’s Club, where a group of homo officers brought in enlisted men who would strip and dance for them. When I’d done that, he’d pulled me into a supply closet and I’d plowed him against a wall.

The colonel didn’t really need a driver to get to Naha City. We both knew he wanted me to fuck him. I wanted to use the car. I wanted the free time and I wanted to take Toma away from his shack and drive him someplace on the island where we could enjoy ourselves and pleasure each other in a new setting. So I drove the colonel to his conference and I drove his body that first night, lying between his thighs in a missionary, moving into a doggie, and, at last, him riding me in a cowboy. He had a good, trim body for a fifty-year-old, and he wanted it hard and deep from a fit twenty-eight-year-old. I gave him what he wanted and I enjoyed it--but he wasn’t a fourteen-year-old boy.

He gave me two free days and a car that could take me anywhere I wanted to go on the island in the free time I had. The first place I went the next morning was Koza City. I had stopped and bought snacks and a lunch and beer. Noboku, smiling, went out to fetch Toma. I don’t know where she went those days to fetch him. He probably was in school, but I didn’t think about such things. I only thought of my smile and my cock hardening up when I saw him approach. Usually, I took him immediately inside and fucked him in a frenzy of need, before we sat and chatted, with increasing understanding, each of us adjusting our language to the other, before we fucked again, this time languidly. But I was anxious on this day to drive him into the countryside, so we set up immediately, northeast.

I took him to Yomitan, off of highway 58, where there were ruins of a medieval castle, Zakimi Castle, built on the heights overlooking the East China Sea. There were ruins of over a hundred castles on the island that had been exchanged between Chinese and Japanese control over the centuries, castles that, fascinatingly, were similar to the medieval castles of Europe. But Toma had said he’d never been to one. He’d never been out of Koza City. I delighted in the delight he saw while we drove up the coast.

At Yomitan, we turned inland and drove up into the hills through sugarcane fields. Near the base of Zakimi Castle, we passed a field in which a young Okinawan boy, about the same age as Toma, was working in the field. Toma waved to him and he stood up from his crouch and waved back.

Ours was the only car in the parking area near the entrance into the castle ruins. It was a weekday and people didn’t normally come to these ruins anyway. There were more intact castles closer to the towns.

I turned in the front seat and pulled Toma’s face to mine. We kissed, and as we did so, each of us fumbled around with the flies of the other, extract hardening cocks, and stroked each other. Toma lowered his face to my lap and he sucked me hard as a rock. I slid over into the passenger seat, pushing his shorts down off his legs and settling him on my lap, facing the windscreen and on my cock. Planting his palms wide on the dashboard, Toma rose and fell on my cock, as I reclined in the seat and groaned. Out beyond the windshield and the hood of the car, I could see the Okinawan boy from the fields standing at the edge of the sugarcane field and watching Toma and me fuck.

When we gathered up blankets and the luncheon basket to go into the castle, the boy was gone.

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