8.(26-27) My Gorgeous Geisha - Sex! Sex! Sex!

Slim Novel 8 - http://adventuresofkimi.blogspot.com - See Homepage


26. A Purple Chrysanthemum

Being dragged feet first, weakly protesting and hearing Fuji’s “Shuddup!” Then someone slapping me awake, then his face floating before me. He helps me sit and puts flask to my lips. Whiskey jolts to clarity. “That's it, Kimura! Except for lump on left temple – the smart side ain’t it? – you're intact. Man, what a fighting maniac! More a you and we'd a won! A purple chrysanthemum for outstanding bravery under fire: ‘at's for you! Now, to get to hell away before the Marine figure out he won.”

   I cast last long look at the ridge – Bloody Ridge from now! In the early morning rain I make out bodies and bodies. A soggy silence muffles the drenched slope.   
   We start toward Mount Austen and later at the command-post Fuji reports to staff officer who fills us in on news: all bad. Fuji works out our return to Rabaul.
Since Taivu Point is full of Marines, an escape via Cape Esperance is out. We shall hike the width of the island to south coast and radio to Rabaul. Behind Mount Austen we find jungle path.

After 2 days eating banana and cocoanut we break out of jungle onto beach dotted with sponge-like pretty pieces of white coral. Fuji radios coded message on secret frequency then we alternate lolling on beach and swimming.

At twilight a submarine surfaces and a small boat separates from sub and in 10 minutes I am happily sipping hot, potent, powerful, deep green tea in the sub.

27. My Gorgeous Geisha

I gaze gratefully at the waving, graceful royal palms out the window, all the while stretched prone and naked on a soft white-sheet mat as the fine fingers of my geisha wondrously work over the small of my back.

   On arrival, Fuji sent me to a bungalow where my beauteous comforter was waiting. Weak and wobbly I was tenderly tucked in and, after a good sleep and delicious wake up, I am getting my morning massage.
   Ah wilderness of pleasure, this warm, loving lass over and under me! Lying here, my right side of head resting on my crossed folded forearms which rest on a softly firm white pillow, and getting gorgeously gripped, my gaze wanders to the brown mahogany desk with my books, papers, gray portable Underwood typewriter all arranged neatly.

   My gorgeous geisha indicates the bath. In pink tiled room, my Tuilleries, a steaming, smoky sulfurous sauna awaits. Before bathing she unhooks her complex ceremonial kimono, removes her obi belt and unravels sash, steps out of gown, pulls white cotton shift-slip up over her beautiful, smooth, white-powdered skin and black hair, and drops it atop the pile of her clothes. Ecce femme! Her true country beauty is slim and small breasted. She now looses her glorious bunched hair and the fragrantly unctuous ebon locks cascade down over her pleasingly plump rump.

   Before leading me to the bath pool she removes my yukata wrap, has me squat, starts nearby wall tap, and soaps and waters me all over, spending extra delightful time on my anus and my globes, and my now powerfully pulsing erection. She lays me on my back beside the pool and does a frontal massage. As she bends over to massage my lower belly I take hold of her earlobes – tenderly with forefinger and thumb of each hand – my way of indicating desire for oral massage. Shortly I fill her mouth with  chalky white sap so much so that her cheeks puff and nostrils run with semen. A good geisha, she swallows, wipes mouth and nose with lock of hair then pushes me into the pool and plunks in after.

   My first come is only goose for the gander: the erection returns underwater. In sexual dither I sit on the floor of the pool, with water to chest and bid my geisha straddle. And it recalls the American song lyric “The most astounding things take place whenever we come face to face”. Or was it “meet”?  Now I relax and watch the figurative blinking lights while she does all the humpety-bumptying. Our union is completed by a long exquisite orgasm with satisfying ejaculation accompanied by the geisha’s oohs and ahs and ees, and her squeezy vaginal clutches.

   Out of pool she sits me before wall mirror then shaves, dries, powders, colognes, coifs, gowns and leads me into the living room where table is set and I dine like dilettante on raw fish, rice, tropical fruit and iced piña colada in tall frosted glass.

   Am ready for another go at my charming comforter. Laughingly she allows me to top her on the high-pile, soft rug. Sated I roll off into a contented dream in which I float in dark warm fluid capable of supporting breathing and, when swallowed, tasting like nectarine ambrosia. I feel it enter my system, flow through my body to the base of my penis with unbearably delightful pressure. And, suddenly, like the waters in a Noah stoah, a torrential come inundates my world.

   Am awakened with waterbed against my back and the geisha’s exquisite head between my thighs. She is holding my erection between velvet lips whose soft suction draws my essence out the tip. Gently holding her lower earlobes with my fingers to guide her and increase my pleasure, I open my eyes.
   In earliest light, I see my geisha on dainty knees, ample ass up in a hump and shoulders down in a crouch, her head working the sexual lollipop now and getting a delicious delivery into mouth forthwith. She swallows, wiping mouth with lock of black hair in unforgettably remember-able etched gesture of her profession.

Ten minutes later, still recalling the unforgettably ample ass, my sexual part stiff, hard and pulsing at 45 degrees erect, I position her into the extreme missionary lay lady lay on her back, and she, experienced in what I plan, accommodates me with her hands behind upper thighs pulling her buttock back-cheeks apart, and relaxing her anus opening as I carefully maneuver my pole into and up her hole and experience derriere delights that never cloy.
   Losing control, I come crazily high into her rectum. Like the experienced trooper she is, my geisha lies quietly for several minutes then disengages, and with another lock of her hair, wipes off my collapsing cock, moist balls and grateful groin.
   I sleep, Geisha by my side.

In morning, giving beatific smile, my love arises, gowns self and prepares breakfast. Aromas and crackles of frying bacon, the popping up of brown crisp toast and a strong jolt of java remind me I am famished, and the stimuli of food and drink following the superb sex make me aware how alive I am and how satisfying it is to be so much so.

   Geisha brings tray to me where I am sitting up. Each serving has been cut into small squares which she catches between chopsticks, puts into her mouth and one after another pops into my mouth with soulful, mouthful kiss each time. All I have to do is relax back against the soft fragrant pillows and be kissed.

   In next days, I write, do sex, eat and swim ad infinitum, ad delightum. Mornings at six, Geisha flips on shortwave so I may catch morning news from Radio Oahu.
   On Guadalcanal, the Marines have taken to using the epithet Bum of Month for each military commander sent to recapture Henderson Field. In August it was Ichiki, in September, Kawaguchi. Who will be October's? And how can I get as far away as possible from that awful archipelago?
   To read on, click 8.(28-32) End of Paradise