2. Monkey Business

I’ve always been short for my age. On top of that, my face was a little monkey-ish, so people often teased me, calling me ‘Monkeyboy’ of ‘Monta of the Jungle’ and stuff like that. I was a shy and gloomy child, but my interest in sex was way over developed when compared to others my age. By the time I was in the fifth grade of elementary school, I was already ‘taking matters to hand’ at least daily.

The fuel for my fantasies was always my childhood friend, Miki.

Miki was quite a beautiful girl with a cat-like elegance, although she also had a very strong personality. She is the complete opposite of me, with a cheerful and proud personality. She’d been tall since elementary school, and by the time she was in middle school, she had a precocious body that was clearly different from other girls in our class.

She was the captain of the volleyball team in junior high school, and so naturally attracted the admiration and curious gaze of the boys around her and became quite popular as one of the three most beautiful girls in the school.

Dirtbags from other schools would talk about her in awed tones, and I think many of my classmates also fantasised about Miki during their most private moments.

As I grew up, I was the epitome of the quiet lecher. Of course, my gaze had been stuck on Miki’s developing body since we were in elementary school. I’m only a little ashamed to admit that, after we entered junior high school, I snuck into our empty classroom to savour the sweet musk of Miki’s sweat-soaked gym uniform and socks on more than a few occasions.

Miki and I used to go to the same karate dojo when we were in elementary school, so we had a relatively frank relationship.

“Good grief! You’re a man, aren’t you? Get your shit together!” she’d say.

Unlike Miki, who is a sports all-rounder, I was average no matter what I did, so every time I practised karate, Miki would soundly beat me, then lecture me in detail about my shortcomings.

It was like a relationship between a brilliant and beautiful sister and a disappointingly average brother.

I quit the karate dojo after less than a year because of the gruelling training and practice sessions, but when I entered junior high school, I ended up going to the same English cram school as Miki. There were only four students in the cram school elite class with us, and I was rather good at English, so I naturally had more opportunities to talk with Miki.

“Hey, Monta. How do you translate this?”

I remember answering while desperately feigning calm, being thrilled by her prominent bust and long legs, the glimpses of firm lightly tanned thighs near the hem of her skirt, her sharp eyes and mature profile, and the faint sweet smell of shampoo drifted when she tossed her hair.

More fuel for my fire.

After graduating from junior high school, Miki went to the same local public high school as me. She grew to nearly 170 centimetres in height, and became much more mature than before, if that was even possible. Naturally she began dating a tall handsome guy named Furuta of the same volleyball team. Speaking of me, my height stopped at 160 cm, and I was still as unpopular as ever.

Every day I indulged in my fantasies while thinking of Miki. In my imagination, she was always wearing her dark blue volleyball uniform. She would crash into bed for a nap, her body still sweaty from practice. I inhaled the scent of her feet, tangy with sweat, trying to avoid being noticed. She would shift in her sleep, her taut tanned thighs falling open invitingly. I would let my tongue crawl up her soft long legs, as her breathing quickened, and as I slipped off her uniform, her ruse of being asleep would fall apart. She would draw me to her, and I would entangle myself like a snake around a sweaty naked Miki in ecstatic passion.

In my imagination.

My fortunes began to change when I entered a local university.

Miki also happened to go to a junior college not far from my university.

Until then, we had regularly exchanged phone calls and messages, but most of the conversations were about her boyfriend Furuta, who had entered a university in Osaka and had to move a long distance away.

I think I was a convenience to her; a childhood friend who was always there, and who would listen to her even if I wasn’t really interested. I knew that, but I was just happy that a runty pathetic-looking guy like me could easily talk to a beautiful person like Miki.

We both lived alone, about two stations apart on the same train line, so sometimes we would have dinner together at a family restaurant or little pub.

When she had a few drinks in her, Miki would start casually dropping dirty jokes. Sometimes she’d get personal.

“Hey, Monta ... do you ever think about me when ... you know ... you’re alone ... doing...” She made a lewd gesture with her hand.

“Well ... sometimes...” I mumbled.

“Yaa! Don’t tell me that. It’s so cringe!” she giggled.

As we joked with each other, I was inwardly hurt that Miki didn’t see me as a man or think that I was worthwhile enough to think of her that way.

There was one thing that changed for me since I entered university.

I started going to soaplands.

I really wanted to make Miki my own one day. I want to savour sex with the real Miki, not just in my imagination. I only need to do it once and I could be satisfied, but I don’t think Miki would have the patience with a runty geeky virgin.

I read all kinds of love tips and sex technique books and spent most of my part-time job money on brothels and sex clubs. I would always request a tall girl. I wanted to train my lower body and practice sex so that one day, if the opportunity presented itself, I could satisfy Miki.

Men are strange creatures. When their sexual desires are satisfied, they naturally develop a certain level of confidence and calmness that projects into all manner of their interactions with others.

As our university studies progressed, Miki’s attitude towards me seemed to change a little.

We were talking at a family restaurant, catching up for the first time in a long while and suddenly made close eye contact. She held my gaze for a moment, then looked away as if she was confused. It got me thinking.

Maybe...

At that time, Miki was in a delicate place, telling me she might break up with her long-distance boyfriend who was still in Osaka.

“Maybe it’s because I’m not attractive,” she sighed. “So I guess that’s why he’s cheating...”

When the girl of my dreams asked what I thought about her boyfriend’s infidelity at a late-night family restaurant, my mouth was speaking words of sympathy and encouragement, but my mind was screaming “This is my chance!”.

“Hey, Monta ... come on ... do you think we should break up?”

Perhaps with the help of the wine, Miki’s cheeks were slightly flushed. Although she was usually direct and a little too sharp in her way of speaking, this night she spoke in an uncharacteristically sweet tone. It made me swallow.

“You haven’t found out if he’s actually cheating on you, you know. Why don’t you go to Osaka and see how your boyfriend feels?”

I didn’t really want her to go to Osaka to be with him, but I said that on purpose.

However, in the end, it paid off. She looked at me closely.

“If I break up with him..., will you comfort me?”

“If it’s okay with you ... of course I would.”

We stared at each other for a long moment, the air between us oddly heavy.

I was already dry in my mouth and had an erection under the table.

“Something has ... changed about you since you entered university, hasn’t it?”

“Really” I replied. “I don’t think so...”

“Hmm ... and yet you’re still Monkeyboy...”

With this return to sharp-tongued form, Miki looked away and out the window. As I looked at her profile, gazing out into the darkness, I desperately fought the urge to say, “I’ve always liked you.”

A few nights later, I received a call from Miki.

“I broke up with my boyfriend.”

It turns out she didn’t even have to go to Osaka. They got into a big fight over the phone and that was the end of that.

“He was going to hook-up parties and doing rounds of the clubs and stuff.”

She couldn’t understand her boyfriend’s desire to blow off steam from studying for exams, or taking advantage of the freedom of living alone, but I just shut up and listened to Miki.

“Hey...” she said. “Are you a cheater too?”

“If Miki was willing to go out with me, I wouldn’t cheat even if I died.”

“...”

I heard her breathing down the phone.

“Tell me what it is you like about me,” she said softly.

Before I knew it, I was flirting with Miki over the phone.

“Monta, do you like me that much?”

Here goes nothing, I thought and suddenly I was telling her passionately how much I had always liked her.

Less than an hour later, I was two stations away in Miki’s apartment.

When she opened the door, we stared at each other for a while before I stepped inside. Before the door had latched shut, we were in each other’s arms, kissing each other like we’d been doing it for years.

The sweet scent of the real Miki surpassed even that of my dreams, and I felt my erect dick start leaking precum into my pants. We collapsed onto the bed without breaking the kiss or our embrace and stared into each other’s eyes while we devoured each other.

Tentatively, I laid my hand on her chest, over her t-shirt.

“Ahh,” Miki sucked in a breath. Sensitive.

Maybe she’s not wearing a bra!

My mind went red and hazy with lust. She looked up at me, blushing faintly.

“It’s embarrassing,” she moaned. “The lights ... Turn them off.” She stretched languidly on the bed, and I took in her long, tanned legs emerging from the denim shorts she was wearing. I swallowed and hit the lights.

The pale light from the streetlamps outside filtered in through Miki’s light curtains.

In the semi-darkness I crawled above Miki’s body and lifted her T-shirt, rubbing her perfectly shaped breasts gently and slowly, reading them as a blind man reads braille. Slowly I lowered my mouth to them, tasting the nipples with the tip of my tongue. Before I realised what was happening, tears ran from my eyes and scattered across her chest.

“Ahh!” A sweet moan began to croon from Miki’s mouth.

Her breasts were softer than I had imagined. I felt jealous of Furuta, who had tasted this milk before me, to the point of feeling murderous at his unthinking betrayal of my precious Miki.

“Ohh! Monta!”

An unbelievably powerful aphrodisiac, a sweet voice like a mewling kitten, came from the mouth of my usually strong-minded Miki, and I came in my pants. At the same time, the perverted libido that I had been lusting after Miki all this time began to rise.

I want to taste her.

Now was the time to turn a long-standing fantasy into reality.

In the darkness, I wriggled my tongue down from her breasts like a nasty reptile, planting kisses across her flat abdomen.

“No! Not there!” she tried to squirm away, but I held onto her hips and wouldn’t let her get away. I planted soft kisses around her belly button, trailing down towards the low waist band of her shorts. Each time I dip closer, she holds her breath, releasing it as a move away.

“Ahh ... haa...”

After a few minutes I popped the button on her shorts and slid them down. I buried the tip of my nose in the top of her panties, I could smell the faint sweet and sour of her special fragrance coming from between her thighs. I nudged at her cleft with my nose, causing her to take sharp breaths when I bumped her pearl. It distracted her enough that I could pull her soaked panties down her beautiful, toned thighs.