A Few Yen More

Note: This is a sequel to Worth Every Yen. I plan on making this a trilogy if anyone is interested.

Another day at the office comes and goes uneventfully. The ticking of a clock has of course been replaced with the incessant checking of one's phone, but the principle remains the same. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

So it is with meetings, as with the countdown for them to end. Today is Friday, the last day of such dreary meetings, and though the faces have changed, I hardly notice. Suits and ties succeed in their efforts of making salarymen, both the young and ambitious and the old and world-weary in looking like one gray, homogeneous blur. Almost a force of nature holding me in place, I translate when necessary, little of what the higher ups deem important strategizing for their global brand remaining between my ears for longer than is necessary to render it into Japanese.

I get up to wash my mug after my fourth cup of coffee for the day, drunken more for the purpose of killing time between meetings than for any reasons related to caffeine or even, god forbid, taste. This act is enough to waste the final moments of the day. Satisfied I have fulfilled my contract, I gather my things and add the customary "osakini shitsurei shimasu" to the dull murmur of papers being pushed and head out the door.

No details of the day's meetings remain in my head by the time I have reached the train platform. I pull a note that I have been fiddling with all day from my pocket and look at it again, noting how crumpled it has become from my bored handling. Fortunately, the numbers are still legible. I resolve to give the phone number a try as the train loudly pulls to a stop.

A crowded few minutes of commuting later, spent staring out at the busy streets of Tokyo passing by and thinking of very little in particular, I am within walking distance of my hotel. Only now does my brain really begin operating again. This is the night I had set aside for a bit of urban exploring, by which I mean bar hopping, by which I mean finding a lady for the night. I had insured my trip was worth something last night, but that had, of course, come at a very literal price. Not that it wasn't worth every yen, but sometimes one wants to gamble on partners who come free of charge.

The electronic chime comes as a familiar note of welcoming as I enter the hotel lobby. I have almost grown fond of this place over the last few days. Just as welcoming and familiar is the face of the cute girl behind the reception desk, the same one I had flirted with the day before. I decide to try my luck again and approach the desk, which elicits the desired smile from her.

"Konbanwa," she greets me.

"Konbanwa," I reply, glancing down to her name tag and adding "Akiko-san."

She smiles, politely of course, though I believe I detect a bit of genuine pleasure in the gesture.

"Hai," she replies expectantly. She straightens herself up slightly, awaiting, I assume, a request of some sort.

"Konban mata hataraiteru ne," I remark casually that she is working another evening.

Her shoulders relax slight, and her tone becomes sympathetic, "Sou desu ne," she acknowledges, sadly.

"Deeto nai, ne?" I prod her about not having a date despite it being Friday night, "Kinyoubi nanoni..."

The corners of her mouth twist into a smile. "Sou ne, sasowaretenai kara..."

"Zannen..." I smile back. "Saa, itsuka sasowareru kana?" I give her a wink. Another guest arrives in the lobby as she begins to blush. He approaches the desk and I take the opportunity to move away, giving her one final look before she is pulled away by the other guest. I smile to myself in the elevator.

On arrival to my room, I almost immediately strip out of my salaryman uniform and hop into a shower which I pass through as thoughtlessly but far more relaxingly than the train ride. I step out of the shower and look down at the note I had pulled one last time from my pocket and left sitting on the nightstand. Alright.

I call the number and am directed by an automated message to leave a voicemail. I leave a message, saying just who was calling and little else and decide to figure out a plan for the night. Before I can even bring up a search for local bars on my laptop, by phone rings. Hana.

"Moshi moshi," I answer, trying to sound less interested than I am.

"Joe?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say, "You got my message, I guess?"

"Yes, I..." she pauses, either searching for what to say or still working out the translation in her head. "...Can we have an English lesson?"

"If you want to spend your Friday night having an English lesson, ok. I have to leave Tokyo tomorrow..."

"Great! Can you come soon? I will mail you the address." She seems genuinely excited.

"Whenever is ok with me," I say. I feel my lips curling into a smile at the idea of spending my last night in Tokyo giving an English lesson to a prostitute, but I suppose there are worse ways to waste time.

"Yoroshiku ne."

"Yoroshiku..."

She sends the address within a minute of hanging up. I decide I am far too sober for what I assume will turn out to be a far less interesting story than I hope, and I alter the directions my smart phone gives me just enough to stop at a convenience store and pick up a can of beer.

It is empty by the time I reach the train station. I don't mind the disdainful looks of the other passengers on the train as I drink, generally, but it's far too crowded at this hour to avoid spilling it as I'm jostled. The nearly expressionless faces of the weary travelers, however, only make me wish I had bought a second can.

Soon enough, and after only one transfer and a bit of walking, my phone tells me I have reached the correct apartment building. I hope silently that it knows what it is talking about, since I would be hopeless lost among the seemingly endless jungle of nearly identical buildings in sight. I switch the phone over to acting like a phone again, rather than a navigator, and call Hana.

"Tsuita yo," I inform her. "Ma, tsuita to omou."

She lets out a sort of a squeal. "Chotto matte ne!"

As requested, I wait, having little else to do besides look around. This doesn't seem to be the best part of the city, a bit grimy, but I generally don't worry about things here like I might in another country.

"Joe!" I hear Hana's voice, overly excited, and my attention is drawn back to the door. She is standing, only half out of the door, waving me over. I acknowledge her with a nod and follow her inside. She is dressed in a loose-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants, slippers on her feet. If I had any remaining illusions that she didn't see me as a talking dictionary, now that I'm not paying for her company, I left them behind, outside the dingy elevator we ride up and up and up.

She notices me looking at her and smiles. "I am happy you can come," she says, more cheerfully than her awkward elocution would seem to allow.

"Sure, sure," I say, adding a silent, why not spend my Friday night working instead of getting ass?

She leads me into her apartment through a gray, featureless door. As we enter the genkan, a sweet, warm smell hits me. A short hallways leads us past the toilet and into the apartment proper. On entering, I find a beautiful girl cooking something on the stove. "Okaeri," she greets Hana.

"Tadaima," Hana replies sweetly, as if she had been gone more than the minute or so it took to retrieve me from the street.

"Ojama shimasu," I greet her. She says nothing for a very long second.

"Hi, nice to meet you," she says finally, her face breaking into a smile. She is tall and thin, dwarfing Hana. She wears a pair of very short jeans shorts and a sleeveless top that does nothing to hide her sizable breasts.

"Go on in and I'll have a snack ready for you two in a few minutes." Her English is accented, but not in the usual Japanese way I'm familiar with. She turns her attention back to whatever sweet-smelling thing she seems to be cooking in the stove's grill, usually intended for fish. Hana leads me away and I have to forcibly drag my attention away from the girl.

"Who's that?" I ask as she indicates a chair opposite a small couch. Other than those two pieces of furniture, the room is bare. Another door is mostly closed, the room beyond it too dark to see anything in.

"She is Jasmine," says Hana. She flops down on the couch opposite me.

"Ah," I say. I pause to wait for more of an explanation, but the silence seems to drag on uncomfortably. "So, you wanted an English lesson...?"

"Oh, yes," she says. She reaches down to the floor, turning and bending to grab something obscured behind the couch on our way in. Her position exposes her round little ass. It is perfect, even through the sweats. My cock sends a message of frustration to my brain.

She returns to a sitting position, now with a notebook in one hand and a pen in the other.

"So, anything you wanted to know in particular? I haven't taught English in a long time and I'm don't exactly have a lesson plan prepared."

She listens intently, then places the end of the pen on her lips as if thinking. After another excruciatingly long pause, she finally says "How do you say 'paipan' in English?"

I chuckle. Her eyes remain locked on me. "Shaved," I say after recovering myself. "Like, I'm shaved. But it might not make sense without context."

She nods happily and scribbles down a note. "And how do you say 'shasei'?" she asks.

"As a noun, ejaculation," I reply, still chuckling to myself. "But that's a scientific word. You probably want 'coming', like 'I'm coming' or 'I want to cum on your tits' or something."

"And 'bukkake'?" she asks after scribbling down more notes.

"Actually, we use that in English, too..." I begin, but trail off as Jasmine comes in with a plate of something I don't recognize on skewers and three cups of tea.

"Is she learning a lot?" says Jasmine.

"...oh, I don't now yet..." I say.

She sits next to Hana on the couch and offers me a cup, which I take. "Try this, too," she says, offering the sticky-sweet looking things she was cooking before.

I take one and with an "Itadakimasu," give it a taste. Like banana, but I don't recognize it. "It's good, thanks," I say. "Do you mind if I ask what it is?"

"Ginanggang," she smiles.

"So, I guess Jasmine is not a Japanese name, then," I reply.

"I am from the Philippines," she says. Hana reaches a hand out to take one of the skewers, but without even looking, Jasmine slaps it away. "None for little piggies," she snaps.

I'm caught off guard by the sudden change in tone, but Jasmine acts as if nothing has happened. She places the tray aside. "So," she continues, addressing me, "what has the little piggy been learning?"

"Uh..." I don't know where to begin.

It doesn't seem to matter, as she is intent on carrying the conversation anyway. "Let's see if she's picked up anything useful." She turns to Hana, who is looking away and slightly down. "Piggy, suck my cock."

Hana's head flips back around, and she looks into Jasmine's steely eyes for maybe a second before she does as she's told. She turns herself around, curling up so that her head is in Jasmine's lap, and undoes her shorts with the ease of a practiced professional. She slides them down to nearly the knees, revealing a sizable cock hanging between Jasmine's legs. Her pubic hair is neatly trimmed and her cock is uncut, not a bad size. Jasmine herself only looks down a second to watch as Hana begins licking the head tentatively before looking back at me.

"Not bad," she says, "but I think she already knew that one. It's pretty basic for a little cum piggy like her."

"Uh huh," I say, not able to think of anything else. My cock begins to strain against my jeans as Hana's blowjob becomes wetter and noisier.

"Let's see..." she continues, grabbing the notebook and perusing it with a detached look, "Not much yet, I see."

"Well, we did just get started..." I add. I can't take my eyes off of the vigorous blowjob taking place in front of me, and I am frozen in my chair.

Jasmine seems to ponder the reply for a second and then brushes it off with a shrug. She looks down at the smaller girl's head bobbing in her lap, appreciating it in silence for a few moments, then looks back to me, her eyes finally drawing mine up and away from the action. "Jealous?" she smiles wickedly now.

"Of you, or her?" I say without a thought.

"Ha," she laughs harshly, then beckons me silently to her with a finger. I find my body moving on its own towards her. Our lips meet in a sweet, passionate kiss, and her hand runs up and down my side before settling on my shoulder and applying gentle downwards pressure.

I am on my knees in front of her, watching Hana's spit run down her cock. Hana seems to be paying no attention to me, or anything for that matter other than the hard cock she is trying to force deeper and deeper into her throat. "Get a taste, piggy," taunts Jasmine.

She needn't have. I join Hana, licking up and down Jasmine's spit-covered, throbbing cock. Our tongues dance together on the hard rod, teasing it this way and that. Jasmine closes her eyes, a big smile across her face, and throws her head back. I use one hand to unzip my jeans and finally free my own dick, which happily bounces about, erect, once I have released it.

We lick and slurp the delicious cock and each others' lips for what must be a while, but I could do this all night. I doubt, however, Jasmine could. Already the salty taste of her sticky pre-cum is mixing with our spit and she looks back down, tapping me on the shoulder to indicate I should look up.

I do, happily, into her big brown eyes. "Do you like my big cock, piggy?" she teases me.

"Do you like mine?" I counter. I stand up, bringing my dick into view. Hers is a decent size, but mine is at least an inch longer and thicker, besides. Her eyes light up at the sight of it, already engorged, swaying there before her.

She says nothing and I gently pull her to her feet. Her shorts drop to her ankles and her cock pops out of Hana's mouth. Hana silently wipes the spit from her lips as she watches us. I kiss Jasmine and her hand goes to my cock. Her other hand brings her dick to mine and she begins rubbing them together, hers on top of mine, then mine on top of hers, pulling them, stroking them this way and that. I can feel her pulse through her cock against mine as she smears spit all over both of us and I grab her ass, squeezing it and pulling the cheeks apart, letting my fingers explore her ass crack.

"Bedroom, now," she says. She squeezes my dick and, stepping effortlessly out of her shorts, leads me by the cock into the darkened room through the door. I strip off my shirt and Hana follows sheepishly behind.

The room is dark, but enough light comes in through the door, which Hana leaves partially open behind her, to easily make out the bed. "On the bed," Jasmine commands. I practically jump out of my jeans and land on the bed, turning onto my back in one motion.

Jasmine stands, hands on hips, while Hana jerks her off from her knees, and looks at me like she is starving and I am a delicious slab of meat. She climbs onto the bed, ignoring Hana, and immediately flips around to lie opposite me, bringing her gorgeous cock back in front of my face, tempting me again.

"Strip, piggy," she commands Hana, and before the girl can even respond, Jasmine is ignoring her again, her mouth locking onto the head of my cock, her tongue swirling around on it. She thrusts her dick towards me and I complete the 69. She tastes amazing, even better than before, now that she is actively fucking my face.

I am in ecstasy when suddenly I feel a second tongue on me, tentatively exploring my balls. Then just as sudden, Jasmine stops her ministrations and says coldly, "No, none for piggy. Cum pigs like you lick ass."

Hana must not have understood because Jasmine, a second later adds, "Ketsu no ana namero." Now Hana understands, and that tongue surprises me again, this time teasing my asshole. I suppose this is why she wanted the lesson. I do my best to give her access, but he apparently does not need the help. Her tongue snakes its way up my ass, leaving copious spit everywhere it touches.

We stay like this for a few minutes. I let my fingers begin to tease Jasmine's asshole, which only makes her thrust harder, and I copy her, fucking her throat hard. She never even gags. Hana does her best to keep her tongue on my ass as I pound Jasmine's face.

Jasmine stops again and rolls away, then turns her face to look to me. "Time to get fucked, piggy," she says. I can only smile in response. She gets to her knees and pushes Hana away from me, adding "Doite."

Hana, again seeming disappointed, crawls onto the bed. She is fully naked now, and I see her cute little dick standing at attention as she makes he way towards me. Jasmine grabs my legs and pushes them towards my chest. I take over from her, taking a thigh in each hand and holding it up, opening up my asshole. The air is chilly on my spit-soaked hole and I shiver, as much from that as from the anticipation as she positions herself just right.

She brings her cock head up to my asshole. My hole starts to twitch with excitement, but she merely teases me, smearing Hanna's spit around in excruciatingly slow circles. My legs move involuntarily, trying to force her inside of me, but she refused.

Beside me, on her knees, Hana is tugging furiously at her cute little dick. Already, a thin, clear string of pre-cum is dangling from the tip. The sound of her jerking off, using what I assume is her on spit, added while I was not watching, as lubricant mingles with her high pitched moaning.

"Damare," Jasmine commands Hana to be quiet. "I want to hear my new little piggy beg for it..." She smiles wickedly at me.

"Please," I moan, happy to play along.

"Please what, little slut?" She pushes gently against my hole, but quickly retreats.

"Please put your fat cock up my ass," I beg. My cock jumps as the words come from my mouth.

"There's a good slut," she says. That is her only warning before doing exactly what I ask. I am thankful for the lubrication Hana provided as Jasmine's cock penetrates my asshole in a sudden push. My body reels at the sudden shock, my muscles clenching, my ass burning, my cock loving every second of it.

She keeps pushing, slower now, until she has buried her entire rod inside me. She is hard as a rock and my ass struggles to cope with her, but it does, and as she starts moving in and out, I can feel deep inside me an intense pleasure that is slowly building to the tip of my cock.

Without even thinking, I reach over and start fondling Hana's dick, our fingers intertwining amid her sticky pre-cum. Suddenly, Jasmine slaps my hand and Hana's dick along with it. "I SAID," she says, struggling to keep her tone harsh, "CUM PIGS EAT ASS."

Somehow I find a new level of ecstasy as Hana straddles my face, bringing her cute hairless little asshole to my mouth. I devour it, my tongue exploring her slutty little hole. On top of me she moans and writhes, her whole body shaking as she struggles to hold back her cum.

"Eat that nasty slut's ass," commands Jasmine. I doubt Hana understands, but she is already lost in her own world of ecstasy. Jasmine grabs my cock and squeezes it hard in one hand. "Cum for me, bitch," she taunts me, "Come with my fat cock up your ass. You like that, huh, slut? Little fucking cum pig!"

I moan back an affirmative up Hana's spit covered asshole. Jasmine is close now, too. She is pounding me and I can feel the cum leaking out of her just as it's leaking out of me. "Cum for me, slut, cum for me! Empty those big fucking balls for me!"

I do, sending a fountain of cum shooting up and out of me, landing everywhere, splattering on me and Hana, oozing down Jasmine's tightly clamped hand. "Oh, that's so fucking hot, oh, fuck..." Jasmine joins me. I feet her hot cum explode into my guts. She drives her cock as deeply into me as she can. It spurts over and over again, each wave of cum from her dick echoed by another wave of ecstasy running through my body.