Chapter 47: Japanese Pleasure

May 15, 1994, Chicago, Illinois

I arrived at Sensei Ichirou’s house for lunch with Ailea about 11:30am. She opened the door and greeted me wearing the red «furisode» that she’d had on the previous month. We exchanged a quick hug and she led me to the table where I sat and waited while she brought the food.

“I suppose we won’t have lunch again until you come back from Japan,” she said.

“Probably not. It’s going to be hectic for the next month, and the weekend before I leave I’ll need to spend with my family. How is school going?”

“We have final exams in a week. I’ll have straight A’s. My final GPA will be 3.95, I think. I got one B when I was a Sophomore.”

“In what?” I asked.

“Typing, of all things! I know how to use a word processor, but they taught on IBM Selectric typewriters and I made too many mistakes. It’s so easy to backspace or just go back and correct later. I guess I got into bad habits.”

“That’s a bummer. Are you salutatorian?”

She shook her head, “No. There were two girls with 4.0. It’s OK. I didn’t want to give a speech, anyway. And there is nothing dishonorable about being 3rd in a class of 400!”

“You take that seriously?” I asked. “You aren’t traditional Japanese!”

“My grandfather takes it seriously, so Mom takes it seriously. And that means I take it seriously. Or else!”

I chuckled, “A stereotypical Asian mom!”

“I’d get in less trouble for having a boy in the house than for getting bad grades! Well, not much less, but less.”

“And if your grandfather ever comes home early, we’ll both be dead!”

“It’s never happened in five years. And he would call so that he didn’t surprise me.”

“It might be a better idea to have lunch somewhere else,” I said. “I should have suggested that before.”

“This is private, and I can prepare lunch for you. I’m not sure where else we could go. My dad and little brother are home, and I don’t think your house would be private.”

“True.”

I did have access to the NIKA loft apartment, which actually wasn’t too far from where we were. It was either a short drive or a moderate walk. But I wasn’t sure that was a good idea, at least until we talked about our relationship, as I’d promised her we would. Assuming she had the STD test, as otherwise there was nothing to discuss. She apparently read my mind.

“Your grandfather did tell me I should remember I’m married. And he told you that, too. He certainly wouldn’t approve of these private lunches. And that does concern me a bit.”

“I’m eighteen. He’s not in control of me. I am.”

“That’s true, but still...”

“I had the test,” she said. “It was clean.”

“Then we need to talk,” I said.

She frowned, “I know you said that last time, but we talked a lot last time. And I have had a month to think about it.”

“Can you tell me why you want to do it?” I asked. “And why with me?”

“I could tell you I wanted a «mizuage»,” she laughed.

“A what?” I asked.

“Before the restoration of the Mikado, there was a practice where an apprentice geisha, known as «maiko», would have a ceremony called «mizuage», where she would have her hair cut. It was usually done in connection with losing her virginity. Later, during the Edo period, when the Shoguns ruled Japan, the practice often involved a patron paying a great price to deflower the «maiko», with the money being used to pay for her training. That was outlawed after the American occupation, for what I think are obvious reasons.”

“It sounds like a traditional coming-of-age ceremony, well, minus the prostitution aspects.”

“It was, for the «maiko», the start of her transition to geisha. Now, in Japan they have the tradition of «Seijin-shiki», which is usually at age twenty, though my grandfather bowed to Western tradition and gave me this at eighteen. The «furisode» is the usual formal wear for a coming-of-age ceremony.”

“But you don’t want to be a traditional Japanese woman,” I said. “Or a geisha.”

“No, of course not! I was being silly, at least with the reference to «mizuage». Wasn’t there a similar practice in Europe?”

I shook my head, “No. The alleged «droit du seigneur» doesn’t appear to have ever actually happened, and all the references come from later periods. There may have been such a practice in some places at some times in history, but the one everyone ‘knows’ about never happened. Perhaps the same is true about the «mizuage».”

“I never thought about that, but it’s something my grandmother told me about. She was a young woman in Japan following the Russo-Japanese War and said that it happened. She told me about a friend of hers who became a geisha and received a huge sum in exchange for her virginity at age fifteen.”

“So THAT’S what this is about,” I grinned. “Money!”

“IT IS NOT!” Ailea protested. “I was joking about the ceremony and wasn’t even going to mention the other detail. I probably shouldn’t have.”

“Relax,” I said soothingly, “I was teasing. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I think it’s simple,” she said. “I think I’m ready to have sex, and you would be the perfect partner. Someone who is caring, gentle, and very experienced. I have seven years of school before I even THINK about getting married.”

“But you haven’t even dated,” I objected.

“So how am I supposed to find the right guy?” she countered. “But, couldn’t we call these lunches ‘dates’?”

“I suppose, yes.”

“And I’m sure you’ve gone to bed with girls after fewer than six dates and knowing them for nearly two years!”

I chuckled, “Yes, that’s true.”

“And I’m not clueless. I had sex education. I’ve talked to my friends who have done it.”

“I never assumed you were clueless,” I said.

“So, will you do it? Take my virginity? Teach me?”

“You just said you knew about it,” I chuckled.

“I may be inexperienced, but even I know there is a difference between reading a book about sex, or talking about it, and actually having it!”

“True. And afterwards?”

She giggled, “If I like it, and I’m sure I will, I’ll want to do it again!”

“You know what I meant!”

“Be my friend, act as my mentor, and help me become a successful lawyer.”

“I could do those things without having sex with you,” I said.

“Of course you could. Why are you arguing so much with me?”

“To make sure you understand what you’re asking for. I think you do, and I think you’re determined to do it.”

“I am. Do you have birth control? I’m not on the Pill.”

“I had a vasectomy,” I said.

“That’s the operation to prevent you from getting a girl pregnant, right?”

“Yes. You apparently had good sex education.”

“Not yet!” she giggled. “So?”

“Finish your lunch,” I grinned.

Ailea pouted but began eating, and I began eating as well. I wanted some additional time to think. I could see numerous parallels to this situation in my past - Jacqui, for the long, slow seduction; Cèlia for the drawn out debate; Samantha, and to a lesser extent, Jodie, for the mentoring relationship; Liz, Ellie, and Wanda recently, and many others before them, for wanting an older, experienced guy to be their first. There was no doubt in my mind she was mature enough to make the decision, and she’d had her STD test. Give those two things, consent certainly wasn’t an issue.

Another thought was the gap in our ages. I was much older than she was, but, then again, my dad was nearly twenty years older than my mom, and I wasn’t that much older than Ailea. I also wasn’t feeling the ‘creep factor’ that I’d felt with Jill. This wasn’t about age of consent, because Ailea was eighteen, but about the gap in ages. I knew, as I got older, the difference would become starker, and that called into question the jokes I’d made with Kathy and Kurt years ago. But that was an issue for later. For now, given how she was behaving I didn’t think it was an issue.

That was at least partly because I’d seen no signs of anything that looked like a crush. There was something to Gina’s suggestion about ‘rock star groupies’, but this felt deeper than that. Ailea had sized me up as a friend and potential ally, and her desire had grown from that. That said, I didn’t think sex was ‘sealing the deal’ as Jeri had felt was necessary. But that led me to think of something else, something I had to ask her when we finished our sushi and soup, which we did a few minutes later.

Ailea cleared away the bowls and sushi trays, and then brought green tea for us to drink. She sat down, and looked expectantly at me.

“Do you feel our relationship is one-sided?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“That you’re asking me for things and not giving? And that’s why you’re offering to have sex with me?”

She looked shocked, angry even, then her face changed, “I don’t think so; well, maybe; I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to offer anything other than your friendship for me to be your friend, and provide you with advice, and even help you navigate your career. The payoff would be seeing you happy and successful.”

She smiled, “Now I’m sure I want to!”

“And why is that?”

“Because you treat me like an adult and you’re concerned about doing the right thing. Nobody has ever treated me the way you have. I can’t imagine a better person to have for my first time.”

I nodded, and sipped some tea, then set the cup down.

“Come sit in my lap,” I said softly.

Ailea squealed and seemed to leap across the low table into my lap. She flung her arms around my neck, the long, billowy sleeves of her «furisode» draped over my shoulders. She stared expectantly into my eyes and waited. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against me, then moved my lips to hers. Her lips were soft and she parted them, inviting me to press my tongue forward, which I did. The tip of my tongue found hers, and she moaned softly as our tongues gently danced around each other.

Ailea’s arms tightened around my neck and she pressed against me, with one small breast trying to burrow into my chest. I moved my left arm and gently slid my hand along the soft silk of the kimono until I encountered her other small breast. I cupped it in my hand and gently fondled it, feeling her nipple harden against my palm. Our kiss slowly become more intense until she broke it, gasping. I waited for her to catch her breath, never moving my hand from her breast, then started to kiss her again. I stopped just before our lips touched.

“We can’t do this here,” I said gently, almost in a whisper. “Not in your grandfather’s house.”

“Where?” she asked, sounding almost panicked. “We can’t go to my house!”

The only reasonable place was the loft apartment, but I wasn’t sure we had enough time to go there, make love, and get her back with enough time to finish cleaning and either get home or wait for her grandfather to return. Not to mention if her dad was expecting her home. Granted, she was eighteen, but the last thing I wanted was for her to get in trouble, or for any questions to be raised. Unfortunately, I’d already lit the fire.

“I should have thought of this before, but when do you have to be home? And what about cleaning?”

“My mom and grandfather come home around 7:00pm, and I told my dad I was planning to stay here until then. I only need to finish the kitchen and this room. If you helped, we’d be done right away!”

“I have a place we can go if you think it’s safe to leave?”

“It is. Don’t worry! Where?”

“My company keeps a loft apartment in the West Loop. I’m sure nobody is using it today.”

“Help me finish cleaning!” she said breathlessly.

She got up from my lap, and took off her kimono. I was both pleased and disappointed to see she was wearing capri pants and a t-shirt. My disappointment was short-lived, as I knew in less than an hour, I’d see her completely naked. And I was very motivated by that idea to clean as quickly as possible, while ensuring it would pass muster with Sensei Ichirou or his daughter, Ailea’s mother. She left the room and came back with a duster, some kind of furniture polish, and a rag. She explained what to do, and I set about my tasks while she went to the kitchen.

Thirty minutes later, after the floors were swept, we left the house. I’d made sure Ailea brought her kimono, as there was something very appealing about having her wear it with nothing on underneath. I drove as fast as I felt was safe, heading south towards the West Loop. Ailea was quiet, but had a content look on her face, so I didn’t say anything and just listened to the music playing from the radio. I arrived at the former factory building, found our reserved spot and parked. We quickly made our way into the building and up to the third floor where I unlocked the door and let us in.

The apartment was nicely appointed, and had two bedrooms, a large great room, and a small galley kitchen. I noticed everything was clean, which didn’t surprise me. Ben Jackson had stayed here on his trip to Chicago, and Kimmy always sent a maid service to clean afterwards. Ailea and I took off our shoes at the door, and I closed and locked it behind us.

“This is really nice! I love the wood floors and the big open space.”

“Me too, though the view isn’t very exciting. You can’t see it because the blinds are closed, but the Burlington Northern switching yard isn’t exactly a panoramic view of Lake Michigan! Can I get you something to drink? We keep the fridge stocked with soda and juice.”

We also kept a bar stocked with several different kinds of bourbon, scotch, vodka, and rum, but I thought offering that was a very bad idea.

“No, thanks! Do you want me to put on the «furisode»?”

I smiled, “And just the «furisode»!”

Ailea giggled, “I would, but I think I need my panties because I don’t want to stain the material!”

I nodded, and showed her to the smaller of the two bedrooms so she could change. I went into the larger one and turned down the bed, then tuned the radio to a soft rock station. I went back to the large room and sat on the sofa to wait for Ailea to come back, which she did about four minutes later. I noticed she had her long black hair up in bun with a hairpin.

“You put your hair up,” I observed.

She smiled, “It’s traditional to wear it this way with a kimono. Usually I just have it down when I’m wearing regular clothes. I can put it up this way if you prefer.”

“Either way, you’re beautiful!”

“Thank you!”

“So am I supposed to cut your hair?”

“After you do something else!” she giggled.

“And what is that?” I asked, patting the couch next to me.

She walked over, but instead of sitting next to me, she sat on my lap and put her arms around my neck as she had earlier.

“Teach me!” she said, then planted a soft kiss on my mouth.

“And just what do you want to learn?” I asked.

“I suppose you should teach me how to use my mouth on you! My friend Kelsey said she does that for her boyfriend because he lasts longer afterwards!”

I chuckled, “That hasn’t been a problem since I was a teenager. We can do that if you wish, but it’s not necessary.”

She nodded, then leaned close to look me directly in the eyes, “Make me a woman,” she breathed.

I only needed to move my lips about an inch to touch hers, and we began a slow, deliberate French kiss, our tongues dancing, not battling. I slid my hand up and cupped her breast gently, then moved to slide it inside the kimono. To my disappointment, the inner layer also covered her breast, and because of the way it fit and was tied with a large obi, there was no way to gain access to her skin without removing the garment. I settled for running my thumb over her silk-covered nipple.

I broke the kiss, and began kissing Ailea’s neck just above the collar of her kimono. She sighed deeply and ran a hand through my hair. I planted a soft kiss on her lips, then kissed the other side of her neck. I felt Ailea’s free hand roam over my back, then down my side.