Cherry Blossom

I bumped into her in my ryokan in Kyoto.

I smelled her exotic scent just milliseconds prior to my sleep-fogged brain registered the ledge I was supposed to step over in an effort to leave my suite, also late, not surprisingly. I fell to my knees like a penitent worshiper, a single hand clutching the hem of her kimono, the other pressing down onto her foot.

“Gomen nasai. Daijoubu desu ka?” I stammered. I’m sorry. Are you alright?

My boyfriend had taught me that phrase early on inside the trip, immediately after he tired of apologizing on my behalf to all the men and women I bumped into. And I bumped into loads of individuals as I was constantly staring upwards in astonishment at the cherry blossoms that seemed to adorn all of Japan. Discreet vibrator is really quiet, you even can enjoy sex at your office and nobody will know this.

Cool hands cupped my cheeks and tilted my head backward. Dark eyes peered into mine, eyes so dark I couldn't distinguish the pupils from the iris.

“Are you hurt?” she asked me. Her voice was usually girlish Japanese, but her accent was pure Queen’s English.

I gaped stupidly at her, a slow blush creeping up my torso and flagging my cheeks. Humiliation burned via me, but so did a peculiar excitement. I lifted my hand off her sandaled foot, the foot clad in those white socks together with the split toe that had fascinated me given that I’d first spotted them. I’d hoped to acquire a close-up view a single day, but this was hardly what I’d had in thoughts.

I released my hold on her yukata, a basic blue and white yukata related for the one I was wearing, and with her assist, I stood up.

“Are you certain you are not hurt?” she asked again in her fluent English.

I watched her rosebud mouth shape the words, saw her fine brows knit in that best oval face. Her skin was beautiful, creamy and golden, like custard. She smelled of flowers and herbs, a concoction that was pungent enough to penetrate my daze. I wanted to gather her up and press my nose to her skin, smelling her everywhere. I was shocked with a fleeting mental image of her splayed on the low table that our kaiseki feasts were served on, and then my stomach rumbled, reminding me of why I’d been stumbling out of my room.

Breakfast.

“I’m fine, truly. There is practically nothing incorrect with me that a cup of tea will not repair. I need some caffeine. A lot of sake final evening, you know…” I babbled groggily and blushed again.

My voice was so husky that I barely recognized it as my personal. A lot of sake indeed. The Gion District presented numerous late evening pleasures additionally towards the geisha and their maiko, and my lover and I had partaken of them till almost dawn. Fortunately, our ryokan did not possess a curfew.

I smoothed my yukata over my pajamas and tucked a lock of hair back behind my ear, then smiled hesitantly at the woman I’d unintentionally accosted.

“Thank you for your aid. I’m Sophie MacRae.” I bowed slightly and withheld my hand, having noticed that the Japanese had thing about hands. They washed them compulsively, especially ahead of meals, and rarely touched hands if it may very well be avoided.

“Miyuki Futohara,” she stated, and bowed to me, her eyes downcast.

I was struck once again by her beauty, by the music of her voice, the perfection of her skin and the symmetry of her capabilities. I wanted to photograph her. I wanted to kiss her. But most of all I wanted to pull the decorative clips from her hair and run my fingers by means of it.

At that moment a young woman shuffled up to us. I recognized her as being the inn-keeper’s daughter. She was homely when compared with the other lady, but she looked serene in her classic Japanese dress, like a pale pink obi that bound her from breasts to hips. She bowed to me and gestured.

“Your breakfast is ready, Miss,” she spoke in halting English.

I blushed, once again, horrified. I wanted to groan, but I breathed out slowly alternatively. I was late, along with the Japanese were sticklers about becoming prompt. Tardiness was deemed disrespectful.

I bowed for the wonderful Miyuki. “Arigato gozaimasu.”

She bowed in acknowledgment of my gratitude, her poise enviable.

I bowed towards the housegirl. “Gomen nasai.”

As I followed the girl I wondered if it was wishful thinking on my part that Miyuki’s eyes have been following me. I stumbled once more, feeling unsettled and breathless. My morning had gotten off to a rough start out, however it wasn’t anything that breakfast and also a lengthy soak in the onsen wouldn’t fix.

My conventional breakfast was a filling mixture of a half-dozen smaller dishes that in several ways were indistinguishable from any other Japanese meal: boiled rice, steamed fish, miso soup and nori. The difference was mainly in the presentation, I think, using the ceramic dishes getting far more easy and rustic in appearance. When I completed, I walked across the tatami mats, slipped into my sandals, and did my very best to glide gracefully down the cobbled walkway to the bathhouse. I desperately required a soak, along with the o-furo tub in my space was a little small for what I had in thoughts.

I entered the ante-room towards the women’s onsen and stripped down, placing my clothing inside a basket. There was a lady there with her kid, but I scarcely noticed them. In Japan, there is absolutely no such point as body-modesty, or at least, not within a kind that Westerners would recognize. Whole families bathe with each other, and businessmen generally soak together, enjoying the naked communion, the sense of sharing that comes when there isn't any possibility of concealment. But as casual as they may be about nudity, the Japanese are sticklers about cleanliness, and those working with the communal baths must adhere to a strict code of hygiene. A Japanese buddy of mine produced sure to educate me around the bathing customs, so that I'd not embarrass the attendants with the really need to clarify towards the gaikokujin why she had to leave the sento.

There is some thing meditative to the bathing ritual, a thing as deeply sensuous as it is cleansing. I stepped beneath a showerhead and soaked myself, then sat on a little bit stool and gradually scrubbed from head to toe with a brush and soapy fingers. When every single inch of me was pink and gleaming I rinsed off, making certain there was no soap or shampoo residue. My skin tingled in the bristles from the brush, a tingle that bordered on discomfort but was a precursor of tingling to come. The water within the onsen will be quite, quite hot.

Yukata wrapped back around me, I stepped into a pair of wooden sandals applied exclusively by bath home patrons and passed via the doorway towards the open-air onsen, or hot-spring pool. It was bordered by a higher bamboo fence, tightly woven with each other, and surrounded with plants and stones that formed a garden I had meticulously cataloged in my thoughts for achievable reproduction back dwelling. I stepped out of my wooden sandals, then removed my yukata and folded it neatly, placing it atop the sandals. I stood for a lengthy moment with my face upturned to the sky, enjoying the feel from the sun as well as the air on my skin. And then I stepped into the onsen.

I was ready for the heat and nevertheless I gasped. It seemed to sear my skin. A wave of goose flesh washed more than me, generating my nipples impossibly really hard. Slowly, ever so slowly, I worked my way down in to the pool, till water lapped at my collarbones and the bubbles of air trapped around my hair follicles danced toward the surface like a huge selection of tiny, teasing fingers. I fantasized about sharing the bath with Miyuki, my mind filled with images of tiny breasts bobbing within the water and tendrils of damp hair clinging to her slender neck. I wanted to touch myself, wanted to slide my fingers in to the slippery wetness of my pussy, and would have, if I hadn’t known how it would have defiled the water inside the eyes of its Japanese patrons.

I had the pool to myself and I enjoyed it completely, letting the images and sensations play over me and by means of me, allowing my imagination no cost rein with my impossible girl crush. Ultimately the hot water sapped my desire from me, and I floated on my back to get a extended while, staring blankly up into the blue sky. The sounds of Kyoto wafted in, but it was pleasant, non-invasive, virtually surreal. It wasn’t till I felt light-headed that I moved to leave, and I had to perform it by inches. I was so completely relaxed, so limp and languid, that I felt like seaweed struggling to crawl up out with the primordial sea.

A brisk shower below cold water quickly cleared my head and firmed up my muscles. I put my pajamas back on plus the yukata over them and was in the ante-room slipping into my sandals when a door opened. The sign on it had kanji symbols as well as the English word “massage”. A Japaneses lady stepped out, bowed to an individual inside, and then left. The door swung fully open and there was Miyuki. Seeing her standing there, my heart tripped over itself and landed at my feet. I had to walk previous her in an effort to leave the bath home, and I wasn’t certain my legs were steady sufficient.

“Would you like a massage, Miss MacRae?” she asked me in that girlish voice that plucked some invisible strings inside me, generating me quiver.

A massage? Dear god. I practically swooned at the thought of her hands on my bare flesh. My knees forgot to support me for a split second, and I grabbed for the wall.
“Here, let me help you,” she mentioned, and wrapped an arm around my waist. My skin tingled where she touched. “Did you remain also lengthy in the pool?”

I nodded, grateful for the proffered excuse for my weak knees. Her scent wove about me once again, that potent herbal and floral scent, and I discovered it additional intoxicating than sake. She guided me by means of the door and into the area, stopping prior to a shoji screen.

“Would you like an invigorating massage to give you energy?” she asked.

I struggled to seek out an excuse that would release me in the exquisite torture I knew I would practical experience beneath her hands, however the words did not rise to my lips. “Uhm… sure, I guess. Yes.”

Uncertain as to what I need to do, I began undressing when she slid the shoji screen aside. Beyond lay a massage table and also a window overlooking a beautiful little pocket garden. She slipped off her yukata, revealing a plain cotton tunic and extended bare legs. I practically choked on the sudden flood of mouth water. Miyuki waited patiently by the table till I approached, naked as the day I was born, then she guided me to lay on my front.

Warm hands spread even warmer oil over my skin. Wave right after wave of goose flesh followed in the wake of her fingertips. As her hands slid over my shoulder I smelled that tantalizing scent and realized it was the oil. Mmmm. I certainly wanted a few of that to take back home.

Massive quantities of oil have been poured onto my skin and she spread it about with lengthy broad strokes of her hands. It felt like she was an artist as well as the oil was paint and I was her canvas, longing for the brushes of her imagination.

“You have gorgeous skin,” she mentioned. “So white, like milk.”

As she leaned into me, pressing her palms along my spine, her upper thigh brushed rhythmically against my fingers, making them tingle. I identified that I was holding my breath, questioning if it was intentional or not. Soon her hands glided down my back to my hips, for the largest erogenous zone on my physique. She kneaded me there, creating me delirious with the pleasure of her fingers sliding along my pelvis, her thumbs pressing deep into the muscles of my ass.

A long, low moan escaped me as her hands lifted and separated my buttocks. Cool air touched my secret parts, creating me conscious of how aroused I was. I felt a blush creep up my neck, burning my cheeks. I moaned once again as she worked my thighs, her fingertips occasionally brushing my outer labia with fleeting touches. I was spared further mortification as her hands worked down my legs, squeezing and pumping my calves.

“Roll more than please,” she stated, and I did so.

She placed a scented cloth over my eyes and draped one more more than my hips, and after that she started working my feet. It felt amazing. My poor feet had been pounding the pavement all over Kyoto as I made my way from one particular shrine for the next, and also the really feel of her fingers around the pressure points had me moaning and sighing within moments. Sooner or later her hands slipped up more than my ankles, and with a handful of soothing strokes she soon passed my shins. When her fingers touched my thighs I was torn in between spreading my thighs wide and fleeing the area. To my embarrassment I was so aroused I could smell myself, even more than the potent herbal oil that she dribbled on my skin from her cupped hands. It was exquisite, the hot droplets of oil hitting my skin, as erotic as wax-play, and I heard myself moaning involuntarily.

Her hands glided up my quadriceps to my hip, then curved down over my inner and outer thigh on the down-stroke. As her fingers fluttered against my outer labia I gasped and jolted and moaned shamelessly. I opened my eyes to find out Miyuki seeking down at me, a slight smile on her face. Her dark eyes seemed particularly intent. As she met and held my gaze, she slid her fingers deliberately along my labia till she was cupping my mound.

“Do you want G-spot massage?” she asked me in her best Queen’s English.

It took a moment for what she was saying to sink in, and then I realized what she was asking. I blushed. The tell-tale redness started at my breasts and crept up my neck to my cheeks. I all of a sudden felt funny inside, all fluttery and tense. I’d heard about “happy ending” massages, but I’d never gotten one, and it surely wouldn’t have occurred to me to ask her for a single. But considering that she was offering… Oh no, I couldn’t… Effectively, maybe…

My thoughts vacillated wildly, and then it occurred to me that I would often wonder what it would have been prefer to have this exquisite woman bring me to orgasm within this setting. I knew that I'd kick myself for the rest of my life if I stated no. So I nodded.

Miyuki’s smile deepened and after that she turned away from me, only to return a moment later with cupped hands filled with oil. Once again, she dribbled oil over my skin, this time over my reduce belly, mound, and labia. It was a scrumptious sensation, as well as the slow slide from the oil droplets down my skin have been maddening.

Slowly, just about languidly, she spread the oil along my skin, and when she reached my bare mound her fingers probed gently, curling into me. I moaned, and to my embarrassment my hips bounced. She smiled at me and put a hand over my mouth, then having a deft move, slipped her fingers into me.

I do not know what she felt when she slid among the folds and into my aching pussy, but what I felt was so intense, I wanted to scream. And I did. I lifted my hands and pressed hers across my mouth and screamed into it as she worked her other hand into me.

Those deft little fingers wiggled and massaged till she worked them into me far enough to seek out my G-spot. When she curled these fingers up against that location and began rocking against it, I released her hand and grabbed the sides of your massage table rather.

Fuck! It felt so fantastic! She knew what she was carrying out, jabbing her fingers up against my G-spot in a compelling rhythm that had me bucking and rocking. I felt the orgasm building, felt my pelvic muscles contracting, and she should have recognized I was close simply because her no cost hand tangled in my hair and my eyes opened to find out her face lowering toward me.

When her lips touched mine I came, came difficult, ejaculating my breath into her, my body undulating like sea kelp inside a stormy sea.

When the kiss ended she looked into my eyes and smiled, after which took her hands away. I produced a disappointed noise that was followed shortly by a gasp as she pulled her tunic more than her head and shucked off her white panties.

I only had time for you to notice that her pubic hair was straight ahead of she was climbing onto the table with me and fitting herself involving my thighs. And after that she started essentially the most insidious movements of her body, rubbing her hairy mound against my bare a single, pricking my clit. She lay fully on best of me and applied the oil on my skin to slide herself back and forth, capturing my mouth for a kiss every single time her incredibly pleasurable upward glide ended.

Her tongue probed at my lips and they seemed to aspect of their own accord. Her tongue thrust into my mouth and her arm curled below my head, trapping me in a kiss that seemed to go on forever as our bodies rubbed collectively an increasing number of frantically.

Seared by her kisses, I panted to catch my breath as she reared more than me and began bucking her hips against mine. Jagged bolts of pleasure pierced me with each and every thrust of her mound. I grabbed her hips, digging my fingernails into her as my mind flew apart like paper cranes within a breeze.Each and every believed, each and every sensation focused on the pleasure pulsing by way of me as Miyuki jogged her hips against mine within a frenzy.

Her hair came totally free and fell about us like a curtain of black silk. It tickled and teased my face and chest as she pounded herself into me, and it was the feel of her hair flogging my nipples that pushed me over.

Every single muscle in my body tightened. A huge orgasm roared by way of me. In a burst of euphoria my fingers dug into her ass and pulled her up into me. I wrapped my legs around her thighs and bucked upwards, grinding myself against her. She whimpered and cried out, her dark eyes wide and her mouth opened inside a great “o” as she, also climaxed using a staccato wail.

Sharp spikes of pleasure continued to jolt me as we lay tangled together on the massage table. I explored her physique with my fingers, gently, as if she was one of the most delicate of cherry blossoms. Sliding my fingers by way of her hair, silken and heavy and impossibly thick, felt even improved than I’d imagined. I cupped one of her breasts in my hand and played together with the tiny nipple, producing her gasp and rock against me. Which sent even more jolts by means of me. I wanted much more. I wanted a taste of her. I wanted to oil her up and discover her physique as she’d explored mine. I wanted to… My euphoric thoughts were interrupted by a chiming sound.

Miyuki swung herself off the table. She grabbed a hand towel and began rubbing the oil off her skin. I sat up and looked at her.

“I possess a massage in 10 minutes,” she stated. “You will ought to leave soon.”

I felt her words like a blow to my stomach.

I must have created some pained noise for the reason that she stopped what she was performing and took my hand.

“This was not normal massage hour. This was specific,” Miyuki stated, providing my hand a slippery squeeze.

I smiled tremulously at her, aching for her, aching for the likelihood to make love with her once again.

She should have read my mind, for the reason that she looked me inside the eye and said words that made my heart soar, “I’ll come for your space tonight, please.”

I nodded through the tears that floated in my eyes just like the petals of cherry blossoms drifting inside a pond.

I wanted to obtain back to my space and ready it. There will be no must venture out into Kyoto these days. I was going to have my own personal cherry blossom viewing in my bed that night.