Extreme Japan 2

Katsumi hung her waitress outfit in the bathroom from the shower rail. It was soaked from the pouring rain. She walked around her tiny apartment naked, except for a pair of skimpy white briefs. She didn’t feel hungry, but felt she ought to eat something so indulged her passion for potato chips with labels in languages she couldn’t read. A friend of hers working for JAL brought them back from her long-haul flights, very exotic snacks.

She turned off all the lights in the tiny galley kitchen except the down-lights under the wall cabinet. They comforted her as she drifted off to sleep every night, like the night light in her childhood bedroom. She slid under the covers clutching a tattered bundle of rags that had once been a doll to her chest. She curled into a foetal ball and surrendered herself to a blissful, dreamless sleep.

~~~

One week later

“Irrasshaimase”, Katsumi said sweetly, bowing for the thousandth time that day as yet another customer entered the department store. She was a greeter at a huge, anonymous and sterile store in the heart of Tokyo. For now. Katsumi slid between jobs constantly, though her resume indicated otherwise. She always chose employers who she felt would not check too thoroughly and if they did, well she’d move on again.

Her lunch was spent in the company of a coffee and doughnut on a bench in the memorial garden down the street. She tended not to mix with her colleagues, she found herself feeling detached from them, different somehow. That didn’t stop her from watching them.

When she observed others it was like studying another species. In comparison to her they seemed like ants, driven by forces they were either incapable of understanding or chose not to understand. They were apparently unworried that their destiny was controlled by others, she would never let anyone control her life, change the course of her future, take control from her. Never again.

A familiar voice broke her contemplation of her self determination. “May I join you?”. Katsumi turned towards the owner of the voice, it was Eri, one of the perfume counter girls. Her silhouette was unmistakeable against the bright sunlight.

“Please do.” Katsumi felt a rush as the delicately fragranced Eri joined her. She’d noticed Eri the day she’d appeared at the concession. Slightly younger than Katsumi she was just as striking, she drew Katsumi like none since … well nobody who she cared to remember.

They made polite small talk, their acquaintance was superficial, so deeper conversation was impossible. Katsumi searched for an opening, a suitable point in the flow of conversation to introduce a social meeting. She yearned for an opportunity to get closer to Eri, perhaps as close as …

Her moment came when Eri spotted a group of teenagers at the gate to the garden. “Oh, now that is impressive.” She was admiring their costumes. “So you like Kosupure?” Katsumi did nothing to disguise her glee. Minutes later they were talking like old friends and Eri agreed to meet Katsumi at her apartment the next night to compare costumes.

~~~

There was a knock at he door. The sight that greeted Katsumi was a vision in blue. Eri had on a beautifully styled long dress cut in such a way that it seemed to twist around and hug her body. The hours of work in the dress and in preparation for tonight were obvious. Her face was white except for the blue eye shadow and lipstick, eyes picked out in wide black eyeliner. Her hair was hidden under a cobalt blue wig.

“Wow, you look amazing! Come in, come in.”

“Thank you. You look beautiful” And she did, Katsumi was tinkering with cosplay, on the edge of the scene and although her costume was less elaborate, her natural beauty was where your eye found itself drawn.

They talked for a while, then spent a couple of hours chatting online with virtual friends. They drank a few beers together and finally, around eleven, retired to the couch. They had found a connection through cosplay, but there was a chemistry developing that they both felt. As always at times like this Katsumi felt like she was on the edge of a dark chasm, Taking the next step meant she would soar across it or plunge into it’s unfathomable depths. There was no middle ground, all or nothing, she hesitated.

Eri’s eyes had come to rest on the exposed skin between Katsumi’s skirt and stocking top. Eri looked up guiltily. Katsumi smiled and with a beating of metaphorical wings that matched the pounding of her heart, took Eri in her arms and lifted them both across the void.

…

The touch of another females hand on her skin was what Katsumi lived for. It happened so rarely and her relationships were usually brief and ended in a lake of tears. She did not foresee how her time with Eri would end, the excitement she felt as they carefully undressed each other drove all thoughts from their minds. Their caresses were passionate yet gentle, full of desire and yet holding back what they both wanted.

It was at times like this as Katsumi’s naked form embraced and became one with Eri’s that she forgot her dark past, her knife-edge present and her probably nihilistic destiny. Now there were no words, no thoughts, just feelings.

They began by kissing, gently, naïvely, no tongues just the gentle pressure of lips on lips. Their arms were at first content to hold each, but their hands soon grew restless and adventurous, searching out breasts, squeezing nipples. Katsumi slid her fingers between Eri’s legs, she was ready, moist and fragrant. Eri’s moans encouraged her probing fingers in their quest to pleasure her new lover.

Eri lay on her side which allowed Katsumi to shift position down the couch and slide her other hand behind and between Eri’s butt cheeks. Her index finger rested on Eri’s anus and gently massaged it while her other hand slid back and forth across her clitoris. Eri ran her fingers through Katsumi’s hair urging her to increase the digital stimulation. Eri had never had such an experienced lover before and came a few minutes later with a delicate, faltering whimper.

Eri’s shivering climax calmed as she lay in Katsumi’s arms. She wanted to repay Katsumi for the pleasure she had given her. Slowly, she began to kiss Katsumi’s face, ear, neck, shoulder. Down she travelled, across her chest, lingering around her breasts to lick, sucking at erect, eager nipples. Her journey continued across Katsumi’s stomach until she reached the triangle of black hair between her legs.

Katsumi parted her legs slightly, Eri nuzzled between them, smelling and tasting her lover’s sex. An inquisitive tongue probed the already wet lips, Eri’s face became coated in the liquid expression of Katsumi’s arousal. The firm and gentle lapping, teasing and sucking administered by Eri had Katsumi squirming and grasping at the edge of the couch. She lifted her legs and wrapped them behind Eri’s head, preventing her from leaving her pussy unattended. Eri had no intention of leaving Katsumi half sated, she could feel the change in Katsumi’s movements, taste the subtle change in her, the precursor to orgasm.

When it happened Katsumi moaned with pleasure, gasped with delight and was oblivious to alerting her neighbours to their activities. Eri thrust her tongue deep into her hot slit and drank from the divine well.

They made love many times that night, sometimes one pleasuring the other often both cumming together as they lapped at each other’s pussies. They finally succumbed to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

…

When Katsumi woke she found her hand clutching the knife that she always kept under her pillow. She drew it out and rested the blade on the sleeping Eri’s neck. For a moment she hesitated, unsure of what to do next and frightened by the indecision itself rather than the consequences of the urge she felt.

Then, decision made, she slipped the knife back into its hiding place and kissed Eri on the cheek. Eri stirred and opened her eyes.

“Good morning”, she smiled.