Chad Johnson: Year One
Copyright© 2004 by Hawklu
Chapter 48
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 48 - Chad Johnson, a former assassin for the Clandestine Youth Agency, has chosen to leave the only home he has known for his entire life. However, adapting to and living a normal life is not as easy as it would seem as he discovers real friendships and, more importantly, love. Note: Appendices have mild spoilers, so please read up to their associated chapters before accessing them.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa ft/ft Teenagers Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Humor Incest DomSub Harem First Safe Sex Oral Sex Slow
"La la la, he he hee."
Since it was a Sunday, we decided to risk going back to the hotel during rush hour. While the train cars were not packed like sardine cans, all of the seats were occupied, and it was slightly cramped. The situation changed when the train pulled into Tokyo Station and a majority of the riders in the car got off. Traci, Michelle, Pollyanna and some of the other standing riders scrambled to claim the newly vacant seats before those waiting on the platform could board. Around a dozen people came on to replenish the three dozen that exited, so even those of us who remained standing felt the additional breathing room.
When they announced that the next stop would be Akihabara, I felt the urge to abandon my friends and jump off the train when it arrived. The allure of the electronics and untold anime bounty was tempting enough to actually make me debate how much hot water I would be in with everybody if I did that. Rose, who had migrated from standing in the aisle to sitting upon her girlfriend's lap during the train ride, began to grin when she saw the turmoil I was going through. I was fairly certain that she would not have a problem with me making a solo side-trek, but the six other ladies might. Rose chuckled when I let out an exaggerated sigh of resignation, a sign that I was going to stay put. However, when the train did pull in to Akihabara, I tilted my head towards the train's doors, signaling Rose that she and I should jump off. Rose pretended she was going to stand up, only to find Pollyanna's arms tighten around her waist. While not fully understanding the silent conversation that Rose and I had been having, Pollyanna seemed to have gathered the gist of it, and kept a firm hold on her girlfriend. The look of confusion on Rose's face was priceless, and I began to laugh, drawing confused looks from my friends and other travelers.
The role of pack mule had once again befallen me, and I had been amazed at the amount of purchases that the four girls had made during the short period we had been separated from them. I had thought that the limited amount of cash that they had on hand would have had prevented them from buying so much, but Rose confessed that Traci and Michelle had browbeaten her into using the credit card that I had gotten her.
"I swear, Chad," Rose rapidly told me after she had revealed using the credit card, "I'm keeping track of everything, and I'll make sure that they will pay me back."
I had reassured Rose that I had no problems with her using the credit card anyway she felt fit, but Marge and Jean had a different feeling towards their daughters' actions. Pollyanna, who had not been named in the coercion, had looked guilty when Marge and Jean chastised Traci and Michelle, so I had suspected that her role in the matter had been omitted by her girlfriend.
Akiba, as the locals called it, was only a twenty-minute ride from Ikebukuro, and we were back in our rooms just over a half an hour later. Besides dropping off their spoils, the ladies wanted to freshen up before heading back out for dinner. Jean had insisted that she would be paying and had implied that fast food was not on the menu, so a change of outfits was in order. Since I had packed lightly and had not acquired any additional clothing yet, I donned my khakis and polo shirt, the only shirt besides the printed tee shirts that I had brought. As I was smoking my second cigarette since returning to the room, Traci was ruffling through one of the shopping bags.
"Darn it! I forgot which one was for Mrs. Weller," Traci muttered as began to stack wrapped parcels onto the bed.
Japanese retailers had a habit of wrapping up purchases as if everything that a person bought was a gift, unless instructed otherwise. It appeared that Traci had not given such instructions and was now facing a mild dilemma. She stared at the wrapped packages for close to a minute before letting out a triumphant cry of victory. Snatching up a small box, Traci had a large grin, proud that she had been able to deduce which was Jean's gift without having to resort to unwrapping everything.
I snuffed out what little remained of my cigarette and rose to my feet. Traci hurried to gather her purse, assuming that we were on our way directly to the Wellers' room. I made a slight detour to the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth; the aftertaste of the condom was long gone thanks to lunch and numerous cigarettes. Traci watched me with a bemused look on her face, so one of the first things that I did after I finished was to give her a long kiss.
"I love you," I told softly.
"If you lov—la-la-la-la," Traci replied; her sudden babbling caused me to recoil slightly in confusion.
After a few seconds, I began giggling at the realization of Traci's sudden non sequitur. Despite it being months since our conversation regarding conditions on love, Traci seemed to have taken it to heart and censored herself. If it was even possible, I felt my love for her grow even more and expressed it with another kiss.
"Mmmm," Traci muttered after we broke our second kiss, "You think we have enough time for a quickie?"
Despite the glimmer in her eyes that told me that she was only joking, I had to bat her hands away from undoing my belt. "The next time that I'm inside of you, I want us to be making slow romantic love," I told her, emphasizing the last three words with my best Isaac Hayes impression.
My attempt at being suave failed miserably, as it became Traci's turn to laugh at me. "Slow romantic love," Traci tried her best to mimic me in a deep voice between her fits of laughter. "Oh, that's just too funny. I wonder if the girls in the squad would be up by now," Traci added as she reached for the cell phone in her purse. She actually flipped it open before adding the coup de grâce: "Psych!" she said, punctuating it with a wink before returning her phone to the purse, turning, and going out the door.
It took me a small moment to recover from plunging from the peak of love to the valley of utter embarrassment, but I easily caught up with Traci by the time she reached the Wellers' room. Their door was propped ajar, the security latch used to prevent the door from closing. Still, I gave the door a couple of courtesy raps and announced ourselves as we stepped inside.
"Everyone decent?" I asked.
"Yeah, unfortunately," Jean's voice replied.
When Traci and I fully entered the room, we found Rose and Pollyanna sitting at the small table with Jean, while Michelle sat on the bed nearest them. They had all changed into more formal eveningwear, and I noted (with ever the slightest of disappointments) that Jean was wearing something more conservative than her previous outfit. Then again, a tube top and a miniskirt would have covered more skin than her last dress.
So, have you decided what we're going to be eating tonight?" I asked Jean.
A wide grin erupted across Jean's face, and I quickly scrambled to rephrase my inquiry. Fortunately, Marge and Lori entered the room at that moment and the double-entendre was brushed aside by Michelle.
"Mom hasn't decided upon a choice of cuisine, so we thought we'd go to Tobu and check out their restaurants."
Like virtually all of the department stores in Japan, Tobu had their top floors devoted to different restaurants. It sounded like a good plan to all of us, so we left the room and headed to the elevators after everybody had gathered up their purses and coats. The elevator car that arrived for us was empty; because of this, after we had boarded, Traci once again decided to be frisky. Regrettably, the target of her affection was not her redheaded friend, as it had been the last time we had all rode down together. I had to quickly nip it in the bud, before it got out of hand—figuratively and literally.
"Love, please don't," I told her softly, as I pulled her hand away from my crotch.
Traci, who was standing in front of me, looked back and gave me a small pout. My girlfriend's actions were not lost upon the other women, and there were a few sets of eyeballs rolling. Rose whispered something into her lover's ear, which caused Pollyanna to giggle. Since Rose had unpacked my clothes, I had a strong suspicion of the contents of Rose's surreptitious communiqué. Underwear was added to the mental list of items that I needed to acquire, lest there be a repeat of the lunchtime incident when Traci last aroused me while I was wearing khakis sans shorts.
I garnered a few looks of surprise from my companions when I did not join Jean in immediately lighting up upon stepping outside. Despite it being a short distance from the hotel to the department store, it did seem out of character for me not to whip out a cancer stick, so an explanation seemed to be in order.
"Methought ta get a bit o' snogging in wit' me gabby bird afore me next fag."
Even using a thick Cockney accent, they all appeared to understand the words (if not the meanings) of what I had said, and practically stopped dead in their tracks. While I received mostly blank stares from the younger ones, Marge and Jean began to crack up.
"Jesus, Chad," Marge admonished me between chuckles, "I know now isn't the best of times to be an American abroad, especially with our current leader, but we should be safe in Japan."
Jean added, "How aboot being Canadian? That woold be much easier, eh?"
I agreed wholeheartedly with Marge's assessment about Japan being one of the few places left in the world where it was safe to be an American. I had chosen to say what I did in part to explain why I was holding off on having a cigarette, but mostly to provide some comic entertainment. After all, why should Traci be the only one to have some humor at my expense?
The third restaurant that we came across seemed to entice Jean the most, but nonetheless, we had to check them all out before settling upon that one. Besides menus, most of the establishments had plastic models of the dishes they offered and it became my task to memorize everybody's order, even after I translated the names for them. Rose and Michelle did attempt to tell the waitress what they wanted, but she had a hard time understanding the two girls, so I had to repeat their requests.
After we had finished the wonderful main course, a couple of the girls opted for dessert. Rose was amazed with the tempura ice cream that she ordered. Having deep-fried, batter-dipped vegetables in the past, it had never occurred to her that she could do that to ice cream as well. Since we were sitting in the smoking section, Jean lit up after she had finished eating. Marge watched longingly as Jean enjoyed the cigarette -- something that was not lost upon Traci.
"Jesus Christ! You didn't have a problem smoking in my room this morning. I don't know why you're stopping yourself now," Traci admonished her mother.
The revelation that Traci might have been privy to the conversation that Marge and I had had was not lost upon the two of us, but Marge seemed to brush it aside as Traci, in effect, gave her permission to smoke. Still, there was a sardonic edge in her voice when she told her youngest daughter, "Yes, Mother."
Shifting her attention towards me, the look Traci gave me seemed to dare me not to have a cigarette; my earlier remark regarding 'snogging' ignored. Using a stoic mask, I informed her, "I think I'll hold off until I've earned a dozen tonight."
Snorting, Traci replied, "Yeah, right! I bet you can't even get three out of me."
Letting my façade drop, I grinned and asked, "Is that a challenge?"
Traci's grin matched mine, nodded, and added, "Remember, you promised SRL."
I was puzzled for a moment and tried to figure out what Signal Return Loss had to do with anything. Apparently, I was not the only one confused by Traci's reference because Michelle asked Traci, "SRL?"
"Slow romantic love," Traci enlightened, using the same deep tone that she had used the last time.
Once everybody had finished laughing at my expense, Traci, Rose, and Pollyanna used a form of silent communication that all young teenage girls seem to possess and in just about perfect unison, bestowed their presents upon Jean.
"Happy Birthday, Mrs. Weller!" the three of them said as they brought their wrapped gifts into sight.
Blushing slightly, Jean protested with a gentle smile, "Really, now. I told you all that you didn't need to get me anything."
Pollyanna appeared to be their spokesperson, telling Jean, "Yes, we didn't need to get you anything, but we wanted to."
Jean thanked them, and after checking with them to make sure it was okay to open the gifts at the restaurant, she began to do so. The gifts that Rose and Pollyanna gave her were well received, but a frown crossed her face after she opened Traci's.
"What's wrong?" Traci asked in alarm.
"Oh, nothing. I guess I was kind of hoping that you were going to give me the same gift that you gave your sister on her birthday."
"MOM!" Michelle scolded her mother. She then began to blush; a combination of embarrassment from what her mother had said and the volume at which she had used to reply.
As the rest of the girls began to giggle, Traci held out her hand and told Jean, "Okay. I'll let you exchange your gift, but just a word of warning. He may be a tad worn out after he gets done with me, so you may not get the full service."
"NO!" Michelle and I protested in sync with one another.
Not even hesitating for a beat, Jean teasingly asked, "'No' as in you will be able to give me the 'full service', or 'no' meaning that you don't want to fuck an ugly old woman?"
There were more than a few patrons glancing over at our table. The actual dialogue of the conversation may have been lost upon them, but the humorous reactions were not. I think it was the safety of being surrounded by people who did not understand what she was saying that allowed Jean to say what she did. There was also the three bottles of sake that the two older women had consumed during the course of dinner that may have contributed to it as well.
Since I had reassured Jean that she was hot and sexy earlier that day, I figured it was wise to ignore the question, lest I open myself up for attack and further ridicule. Instead, Michelle and I exchanged apologetic looks with one another; self-conscious by the actions of those whom we loved. It was Lori who provided the lifeline by suggesting that we move it along, since the restaurant was beginning to get busier.
We decided to explore what Tobu had to offer and quickly discovered it was primarily geared towards the high-end, a point driven home when we paused at the travel section. I was examining one of the suitcases when Marge noticed the price and inhaled sharply.
"Damn, Chad. Kinda makes you wish you just brought a couple of empty bags from home," Marge joked.
Shaking my head, I told her solemnly, "That wouldn't have worked. Had I tried that, they would have ended up filled with Traci's shoes and other clothes that she couldn't 'live without'."
"Hey!"
Traci, Rose, and Pollyanna were only a few meters away from me and had easily overhead the conversation. As Traci proceeded to repeatedly call me baka, Rose observed, "You think two suitcases will be enough?"
"Not positive. Dave, Bill, and a few others from the club want some Gundam models that they can't get in the States, so that's gonna take up quite a bit of real estate. I'll most likely have to rely on any free space in you girls' bags."
Nodding, Rose replied, "I thought that might be the case. I was planning to buy a second suitcase too, but I didn't think it would be this much..."
Spending thirty to fifty thousand yen on a suitcase made sense for a person who really wanted to protect the contents—not schlepping anime paraphernalia. I had been struggling internally to justify buying the suitcases; getting it out of the way and the short distance back to the hotel were strong arguments. However, Rose's disclosure that she was also planning to buy a suitcase made me decide to hold off on buying them.
"We've got plenty of time to find cheaper alternatives," I told Rose. When she gave me an apologetic smile, I waved her off, adding, "Hey, the money that I save on bags can go towards my girlfriend's birthday present."
Perking up, Traci observed, "I'm sure that they sell Hefty trash bags in Japan. You can always use those."
"But Chad," Lori pointed out, "This trip was supposed to count towards gifts for the entire year."
Letting out a mock gasp, I raised my left hand to my cheek and exclaimed softly, "Oh my gosh! I completely forgot about that."
While Traci's friends chuckled at my antics, my girlfriend turned to her sister and matter-of-factly told her, "You know? I hate you."
Lori shrugged Traci's comment off. It was obvious that Traci knew that we were just teasing her. However, to add insult to injury, Jean warned, "Be careful now. You don't want to end up with another haircut."
While the reference was lost among her friends, Traci was visibly shaken by Jean's comment. Stuttering, she disbelievingly asked Lori, "Y-y-y-ou told her?"
Again, Lori merely shrugged and replied, "I mentioned it this afternoon. Chad suspects that I'm the reason why you can't sleep alone."
Traci gave a worried glance at her mother, who told her, "I'm not going to get involved with what goes on between the two of you. We have a system, and it seems to be working. If anything, perhaps Lori should do something to cure you of your bratty behavior."
Traci winced slightly and looked away. While she was well aware that her actions were occasionally juvenile, it was another thing to actually be called on it, especially by her own mother. Traci's friends pestered her with questions about what the heck we were talking about, but she kept tightlipped. As we left the travel section, I made my way to be by her side.
Once again, I was impressed with the way that Traci was able to communicate nonverbally with her friends. Had I known better, I would have suspected telepathy, as it only required a look for her to tell her friends that she wanted to talk to me privately. The girls quickened their pace to catch up with Marge, Jean, and Lori, while we slowed ours down. Once she felt secure that the others could not overhear her, she began to speak.
"Chad, I swear that I didn't know that those dolls were from Dad," Traci confessed. Our eyes met, and I kept silent. After a few seconds pause, there was a tremble in her voice when she added, "At least, I don't think I knew that."
Traci was the first to break eye contact, and she instead focused on the path that we were walking. The department store was fairly crowded, and it made sense to focus on avoiding collisions with other shoppers. I also knew Traci well enough to notice her struggle to fight back her tears.
I tried to comfort her the best way that I could; my arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her closer to my side. "It seems to me that Lori has forgiven you on that matter a long time ago. Don't get me wrong, I don't think that memory is her most favorite, but she's your sister and she loves you."
Traci glanced at me and gave a weak smile. It seemed that she needed a little more cheering up, so I decided to add some additional information. I revealed, "You know, your sister actually did you a favor. I've always been attracted to girls with short hair. If your hair had been any longer when I first met you, I doubt that I would have even let you in the house."
"Really?" Traci asked in surprise. "You prefer girls with shorter hair?"
I clarified, "I prefer girls with whatever hairstyle they feel comfortable with. It's just that if I see a girl with short hair, it tells me that they spend less time fussing with it and more time doing other stuff."
"So bald..."
"Übersexy." Knowing my girlfriend as I did, I knew that qualification of my statement was in order. "Now, it has to be a look that they want and not something they are doing just to make somebody else happy. There's nothing worst than trying to conform to please others."
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