Autumn had finally killed off the dreaded humidity of Tokyo’s infamous summers and left in its wake a fragrant, mild stretch of weather that rivaled anything that spring and its ubiquitous cherry blossoms could offer. It would soon be time for the Christmas illuminations to be put up and the city would become as crowded during the week as on the weekends, but that was how it had always been. Sarah Blevins hefted her purse up onto her shoulder and entered the small shopping arcade; similarly she had had no expectations of change when she’d started out that morning and indeed was quite comfortable with the status quo given all that had happened.
Weaving her way between the rows of books, Sarah lost herself in the musty smell of used novels and took her time searching for what she wanted in the unusually empty shop. She pulled down various texts on European textiles and traditional Japanese kanzashi designs, some written in Japanese, others in English. Formerly a resident of Wales, Sarah had moved to Japan in her early twenties—one of those gap years that turned into a gap decade, and then ultimately a change in citizenship. Living as an expat in Japan had certainly improved her language skills, but if she wanted to keep up with the fast-paced world of accessories design, especially as she had just celebrated her thirty-fifth birthday, she needed to be on top of her game in all areas. That morning had been spent at an interview for a small fashion magazine and accordingly Sarah was dressed in one of her favorite outfits—a black polka-dot-print wrap dress and a custom-printed denim jacket, all of her own design. She’d had pictures taken from every angle, compliments thrown her way and a business card with a cell phone number from the cameraman’s assistant. She felt confident and wanted to spend the day amongst humanity—maybe she would even call that number. It was finally cool enough after the unrelenting heat of Tokyo’s summer for her to dress in more than one flimsy layer and Sarah was enjoying the lighthearted atmosphere. This day seemed to be promising; in fact, she felt younger and more carefree than she had in years.
She grabbed a couple more texts and then headed off toward the coffee table books—she couldn’t spend all her time studying, she reasoned, and soon got lost in photos of gorgeous snow-covered temples and rows of women in kimono dress. She added a book on traditional tattoos to her pile and decided against one on African landscapes, and then against one of the textile books she’d picked up earlier. Sarah made her way back across the shop with her arms overflowing with books, all great bargains and very nearly all unnecessary purchases in the making. She returned a book to the shelf, lingered over another one that caught her eye and, as she perused the first few pages, was suddenly aware of someone standing just behind her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she began, feeling a bit rude for having blocked the aisle given how tiny the shop was in the first place, then stopped when she realized who it was.
Seichi Sugimoto, a fellow designer and sometime musician, was tanned, dark haired and well muscled; he was wearing a fashionably tailored black shirt and a thin leather jacket with jeans that left little to the imagination. He smiled at her, as charming and irresistible as he had been when they first met.
It was his sense of style and the strange coincidence of them both wearing the same necklace that had attracted Sarah to him a little over six years ago when he had sent her a very charming message on a dating website. He was five years older than her, had lived a very fast-paced life and was looking for a partner— someone that would be his equal, his match as he had termed it. They had met shortly after that initial message and had become fast friends—they’d complemented one another well, a fact that Seichi had often commented on. He’d loved her style, her taste in music, art, motorcycles—it was as if they had known one another forever, or so he’d said. As their relationship grew, they’d come to rely on each other’s advice in numerous ways— and despite living in different halves of the country, they had made time for each other. Once a month they spent a weekend together, at the very least.
Until five years ago, that is. Five years ago, the daily text messages had stopped, the phone calls and planned weeklong are-we-going-to-finally-sleep-together? visit abruptly cancelled. Sarah was beyond perplexed; at first she’d assumed he was just busy—his designs had been picked up by a fairly well-known brand and he had to focus on that, he was living in another city still and all the other excuses she could imagine. At her weakest, she had even managed to wonder if there hadn’t been some sort of accident: was Seichi lying in a coma somewhere, unable to move, much less operate a cell phone? She’d confessed all of this to her friends and in return had been given a copy of the book He’s Just Not That Into You, which was now dogeared and heavily highlighted. That book had hit all the marks and left her both ashamed and embarrassed. Sarah had learned her lesson; she had promised herself that she’d get on with her life and had done her absolute best to do just that. She’d gone back to college part-time, added various licenses and certificates in metalworking, jewelry design and marketing to her résumé and, once she had finally worked up the nerve, had started her own Internet shop. She was moderately successful, well-known in the subcultures that she belonged to and lived a reasonably comfortable, if single, life.
There hadn’t been a man since Seichi who had understood her or her need to create, and she found it was more often than not far easier to be single that it was to try and adapt herself to someone else, even if it made for a lonely life. She took comfort in the idea that, perhaps in a hundred years, she would be remembered for her work at least.
“Sarah, I thought it was you. I can’t believe it though, what are the odds?”
“Seichi! It really is you. It’s been so long.” Her voice was strange to her ears, strangled with shock and some unnamed emotion. He looked just as gorgeous as the last time she’d seen him despite the extra laughter lines.
“Too long.” Seichi smiled and took a step toward her, giving her a friendly, if initially awkward, hug. The hug very quickly went from one-sided and awkward to warm and somehow frantic; Sarah’s mind raced, her stack of books tumbled forgotten to the floor as tears pricked at her eyes. Damn, he smells good… No! You’re supposed to hate him for abandoning you, him and his stupid strong arms and good-smelling skin and… Oh fuck it. This feels too good to stop.
Sarah turned her head and Seichi’s mouth went to her throat, leaving a trail of kisses as he pushed her against the nearest bookshelf—a move that killed the mood unfortunately. They were in a bookstore, a very public place doubtlessly filled with security cameras, possibly being watched at that very moment and…they pulled apart. Seichi whispered in her ear, his voice thick with lust and something like desperation, “Please Sarah, come with me. I need to talk to you. Please.”
She didn’t want to follow him, to give in so willingly to him, not after how much his disappearing act had hurt. The fact that he picked up her books and carried them to the register for her, waited politely as she paid and walked away from the register didn’t escape her notice either. It was unlike him to be that patient, to walk next to her instead of going about at his own pace. Perhaps he had been in a coma, she thought, and awoke more humble than before. He looked different, acted more mature than he had been five years ago, and yet when she saw their reflection in the mirrored windows of a shop, they looked as though they had coordinated their outfits that morning. She reached up to brush her bangs into a better shape and hiked her shoulder bag up once more. This is maddening, she thought as she turned to look at him.
He smiled as they fell in step, the crisp autumn air refreshing and clean. Sarah was silent, waiting expectantly for something, anything to be said. He held out a hand and automatically she handed over her parcel, then his arm wrapped around her shoulders affectionately, the contact both warming and twisting her heartstrings. It was as if they had never been apart—their actions were familiar and almost predictable. It was mind-boggling and Sarah found herself wondering whether or not she should just take off running down the streets, books and appearances be damned.
The fact that the bookstore was in one of the most fashionable districts of Tokyo hadn’t escaped her, but who could expect to run into someone from out of town that they hadn’t seen in five years in a half-empty bookstore in a place like that? Maybe it wasn’t some freak coincidence, you know, maybe it’s one of those butterfly-flapping-causes-a-typhoon kind of things, the hopeful side of her mind supplied.
Abruptly he stopped outside a small, freshly painted boutique, newspaper still blocking the interior of the shop from the very fashion-forward public. Seichi brought out a key ring and unlocked the door, holding it open for her as her mind raced. When she didn’t move, he addressed her in an unusually tender tone. “Sarah, please come inside and hear me out. I want to explain this all to you, just…please?” he pleaded, yet another thing she had never expected him to do.
“Seichi, I think I…well, fine.” The earlier tears threatened to overflow as her indignation battled the spark of hope that his hug had inspired in her. She walked into the foyer and looked around—the shop was obviously on the verge of opening. After a brief silence, he spoke again.
“Welcome to my shop,” he said, spreading his hands and smiling apologetically. “This is why I…well…why I was kept away from you for so long.”
There were rows of shelves and racks full of clothing, boxes littered the floor and a mixed punk rock CD that she recognized as being from his car played in the sound system hidden in the boldly painted walls. He gestured for her to take a seat on a very gorgeous, obviously expensive sofa near the changing rooms. She put her purse down next to her and sank into the plush burgundy fabric as he took a seat opposite her on the solid wood coffee table. He put a hand on her knee and looked her in the eyes, forcing her to confront the situation instead of mentally running away from it.
“I’m so sorry, Sarah, for leaving you like that, I really am. Everything suddenly took off and, I know this isn’t any kind of excuse, but I never wanted to lose you. I had to sell my place, got sent overseas and…well, just a lot of things that I couldn’t really control, you know?”
Sarah shifted halfheartedly; the warmth from his hand both delighted and pissed her off. She spoke up before he could continue, her tone betraying her hurt and anger.
“In five years, you couldn’t find a minute, not a single minute to send me a text message to tell me that you were okay, that you were even alive? You could have told me that at the very least—I even wondered if you’d been in an accident or something!” Tears overran her eyes and she swallowed hard, pointedly looking at him; she got the reply that she’d secretly hoped for.
He cleared his throat and nodded his head; tears had filled and reddened his eyes, as well. He coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke. “I know I screwed up, I know I did Sarah, and…I know that sorry isn’t enough, but I am, I really am. Can you…do you even want to forgive me? I…can’t say anything in my defense other than that I…I still have feelings for you—I always did. I…I think love you, Sarah.”
Those ridiculous tears ran down her cheeks in rivers, as they did down his, and she tried to ignore them, to recall what that book had said, but it was to no avail. His honest confession was breaking her up and she felt herself thawing, opening up to him before her brain had actually decided that he was forgiven. Her heart was set on its own course, it seemed.
“Damn you, I tried to hate you, you know. I tried so hard to hate you Seichi, to make you into a villain.” She shook her head, trying to make sense of it all before she lost her nerve. “But I have to know: were you honestly going to ever contact me again if we hadn’t run into one another today?” Sarah asked; she had to get it all out of her system or else she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.
He looked into her eyes, as if hoping to understand just where he stood. “I did all of this, here in Tokyo, hoping that…well, that we could be together, eventually. I tried calling you once I had secured the lease and everything—but your number was different and I figured you’d gotten married or…I don’t know, that you had found someone better than me.” He paused, and swallowed hard. “If you won’t have me…how am I ever going to find someone like you, Sarah?”
Sarah smiled and placed her hand on the cheek she’d wanted to slap so many times before in the last few years. “You can’t, Seichi. You won’t get another chance, you know. It’s now or nothing.”
She kissed him softly on that cheek and he turned to catch her mouth, not letting this chance escape him. His arms wound their way about her and pulled her onto his lap; somehow they finally found themselves in sync. Their first proper kiss was more mature than she had expected—it started as an offer, a give hoping for a take that built up into a desperate assault on each other. When they finally stopped, both were short of breath but unwilling to pull apart; Sarah’s hands were tangled in Seichi’s hair and his were firmly gripping her waist, bringing their bodies against each other in such a way that Sarah couldn’t help but notice the heat radiating from the rather impressive erection pressing insistently against her through her dress.
“Walking back to you is the hardest thing that I can do…” The CD that had been playing quietly in the background suddenly changed to a very familiar track by The Jesus and Mary Chain, making the pair laugh.
“Do you want me to be your plastic toy?” Seichi asked, a smile creasing the corners of his eyes. “I’m a bit older now, not quite in my prime, though.”
“I don’t mind a few gray hairs, Seichi, you’re still a handsome devil.”
He smiled hopefully and shrugged out of his leather jacket, then as Sarah stood, stripped off his long-sleeve shirt, releasing the scent of his cologne into the air until Sarah felt surrounded by the familiar, very alluring scent of this man.
“I never did show you my tattoos, did I?” he asked, the faded ink on both pecs demonstrating his first rebellion against Japanese cultural norms in his youth. The dragon and phoenix, both such proud creatures, reminded Sarah why she had fallen for Seichi all those years ago and she smiled.
“I always wondered about that, Seichi.”
“Well, I had a feeling of what would happen if I was ever shirtless around you,” he said, his voice taking on that lusty tone that it had in the bookstore. “And it was safer to keep you at a distance because I didn’t know what I wanted then.”
Sarah laughed as she too dropped her jacket and pulled her dress off over her head, revealing a black lace bra and skull-print boy shorts—a set that she had worn for comfort rather than sex appeal. She tossed the dress aside and turned around to show off all the ink she had added over the years, a body nearly fully decorated in scenes from Japanese mythology, kanji characters and flowers. “But you know now what you want, do you?”
“Oh god, yes…”
Seichi reached out and ran his fingers over the different patterns, over her skin, then over the thin cups of her bra, his touch hardening her nipples as his mouth covered hers once more. They quickly found themselves kissing like teenagers— passionate yet fumbling. Her bra joined the pile on the floor as she roughly tugged Seichi’s belt open, her hands pulling the heavy material down over his hips, releasing his cock from its black cotton prison. Drops of clear fluid glistened and dripped down the thick shaft she’d often wondered about and now ran her hand over, feeling the twitching and throb of his pulse through the hot, hard flesh.
Seichi was far too distracted by her breasts to notice at first; he was rubbing his face against them, moaning against the supple flesh as Sarah held him to her, her free arm running over his back, feeling the taut muscles rippling under her fingertips.
Her boy shorts were soaked, her nerves burning in anticipation of more of his touch. When his hand found its way between her legs, Sarah gasped at the jolt of pleasure that ricocheted through her. Seichi moved his thick fingers slowly, exploring her before pulling off her shorts, leaving her fully exposed in the middle of the shop. Precome dripped down her hand as she tugged at his erection, while his thick fingers moved slowly and purposefully over her clit. He started to thrust against her hand; he was moaning and began to slip his fingers inside Sarah’s dripping slit. She sighed—his fingers were stroking her in all the right places.
“Sarah…ah, you’re so wet…” Seichi panted, “I want you so much…I…oh god.” He thrust harder into her hand and Sarah let go, stepping back from his fingers. She couldn’t believe this was happening—what an absurdly normal day it had started out as, and now, well, she hadn’t expected any of this to ever be possible.
“I want you too, now, Seichi. I don’t want to wait any longer.” Sarah sat on the coffee table and reached out for his cock, but he pushed her hands away, a self-assured smile on his lips.
“If this is my only chance, I’ve got to make it my best, don’t I?” he asked, as he sank to his knees on the plush black carpet.
Strong calloused hands reached out and spread her legs; he pulled her forward, burying his face between her thighs. He slid his mouth over her, lapping at the soft folds as he held her firmly in place. His tongue traced over her most sensitive spots—he quickly found them and sent Sarah’s whole body tingling. She was undone, she couldn’t escape from his touch and as his intensity built she couldn’t hold back and came; her legs trembled and her hips quaked as he refused to stop. A second wave overtook her and she came again, her juices dripping down over her thighs and into his mouth.
By the time he released her, Sarah was panting and glistening with sweat; she’d lost count of how many times she had come, and was desperate to have more of him. “Seichi, where did you learn to do that?” she managed, her voice hoarse from moaning.
Seichi stood and looked her in the eyes as he licked his lips, that smile back to tease her. “I always wondered what you would taste like,” he whispered as he climbed over her onto the table, straddling her waist. “Like that time we went driving in the mountains. I wanted to taste you out in the fresh air, with no one else around for miles.” He reached down and pushed her breasts together, massaging them between his hands. “The time never seemed right for it, but now we have time, don’t we?”
“Yes, mmm, Seichi, ah…please,” was all Sarah could say as he began rolling her nipple with one hand, the other gripping his erection firmly, stroking himself over her. Sarah reached up and pressed her breasts together, her pink nipples darkened and taut from his touch.
“Good girl, keep them like that for me,” he instructed as he lowered himself and thrust his cock between them.
The combined sensation of his hardness and the heat—it was almost unbearable. She tipped her chin downward watching him pump his hips forward and darted her tongue out, hoping to catch a taste of him. He was seeping so much precome that her chest was slick with it, the natural lubricant allowing him to push freely. Seichi gripped her breasts, his hands moving over and around hers. When she looked up at him, his head was thrown back, eyes closed, and he seemed lost in the action.
She was certain he would come on her breasts, or at least let her drink him down, but he stopped abruptly. Relinquishing his grip and rising to his feet, his cock throbbed, and drops fell onto her as he bent down and kissed her roughly, his lips bruising hers with the force. They were entangled, their bodies pressed together so tightly that it was hard to say where one stopped and the other began. The kisses went on and on; Sarah felt a desperate need to keep him close, and she could feel the same coming from him, too. Whatever happened next, this day was already the start of something big.
Far too soon, he stood up and pulled her to her feet, holding her as his hands ran down her body appreciatively. He cupped her butt, squeezing it and pressing his cock between her thighs, moving slowly against her. They turned around; it was as though they were dancing until he sat down on the edge of the coffee table. He reached up and stroked his hands over her hips, guiding her forward until Sarah hovered over his twitching cock—god, how she’d longed for that ever since they’d met.
That first joining was unbelievable; Sarah was filled with him and she sighed contentedly as he moaned a low rumble that echoed in her ear. They embraced each other for a moment, and then he whispered, “Now, bounce yourself on my cock, Sarah.”
She did as he asked; the ability to be in control at a time like this was getting her off. He held her waist firmly, his face rubbing against her breasts and neck, the stubble on his chin rough but ticklish on the sensitive skin. She rode him as hard and deep as she could until her muscles were quivering and she had to stop or risk falling off.
“Tired?” he asked when she couldn’t move anymore.
She nodded and Seichi helped her to stand, then joined her. They kissed again and somehow slid down each other’s bodies until they were lying on the floor together, the thin fibers of the carpet feeling cool and soft on her bare flesh. He ran his hand down over her side and raised her leg, then slid himself inside her once again. Sarah moaned and sank into the feeling as he kissed along her neck and his hands went all over her body, possessing her fully.
The force of his thrusts caused Sarah to shudder and her hand went to her clit, stroking herself until she began to come around him. It was incredible, better than anything that she had imagined. His expression said he was fighting against the clenching and tightening, struggling to go deeper and maintain his control. He pushed, grinding inside her as he growled, then bit her shoulder, leaving a passionate bite mark as he came, emptying himself. He kept thrusting, as though his body were on autopilot, moving until he was certain that they were both satiated.
Lying on the rug still connected, they barely spoke. Their hands lazily trailed over each other’s bodies and it was only when goose bumps began to break out that they arose. Seichi was in the middle of fastening his belt while Sarah pulled her panties on.
“Sarah, I shouldn’t have…I hope I didn’t rush this. I don’t want to ruin it.” Seichi looked shocked, a mild wave of postcoital panic washing over his features.
She smiled. “It’s fine, Seichi,” she said, and shrugged as she straightened out the hem of her dress. “Second chances don’t come along every day. Whatever comes of this, I’m ready for it.”