Chapter 32
Oscar
This is my story. It is the story of my childhood. It is the story of growing into manhood. It is the story of living life to its fullest. It begins with my earliest recollections of childhood, a time spent with loving parents in Japan. It was the late '30's. The turmoil of World War II hadn't begun yet in Japan and, so, being a gaijin, a foreigner, hadn't taken on the negative aspects that it would later.
We lived in a small town outside Tokyo and our first home was a wooden clapboard affair with four rooms: an eating area, one bedroom, a primitive footprint toilet, and a small sitting area. Most older homes had communal baths connected to them. Ours didn't. So my Dad and I would spend part of each day at the communal village bath, one street away from our home. It became a daily ritual that became the most important influence on my sexuality for years.
I was about 7 or 8, at the time, just coming into my own physically. I was aware of certain aspects of my body, my penis, in particular. Rubbing it, I knew, made it feel good. I began to notice other bodies, particularly my parents, who freely walked about the house in the nude, as did I. I became enchanted with the form and sizes of penises particularly those I witnessed at the local Y where my father and I swam in the nude. So when I was introduced to the daily bath ritual in the village communal bath, my senses exploded into desires that were totally new. Seeing such varieties of penises led to the new desire of touching them. That, in turn, led to wonderment. What was it that attracted me to the male penis? What pleasure could be derived from the penis? How did other men deal with their penises? There were many questions. And as this period of my life began to unfold, the answers came in profusion.
My introduction to the bath came in the first week in Japan. My dad and I set out for the communal bath and found it with ease. We entered, removed our shoes, and stepped onto the carpeted floor of the main bath. We deposited our shoes in small cubicles that lined the wall, paid the receptionist, and received two towels, one small and one large, as well as a kimono and a key to our locker. In Japan, there is an intense sense of modesty. Men walk around in the nude with a small towel covering their privates or with a kimono. Most men just carry a towel and hold it loosely before them. In most cases, the genitals and pubic areas can be seen, but less directly. We disrobed, locked our lockers, and, with towels in hand, headed for the bath area.
Bathing is almost ritualistic. One enters a long narrow steamy room. Immediately, one is struck by the numbers of men sitting on small stools in front of a line of faucets that set about a foot and a half from the floor that provide hot and cold running water. In front of each faucet was a small wooden bowl, the size of an average salad bowl. The ritual began here. My father and I found two faucets side by side. He adjusted the temperature of the water for both of us, filled the bowls with water, and ladled the stool as a cleansing action, noting that all the men did the same. Then we sat on the stool and commenced bathing, using the soap provided. I say, we. Actually, it was my father who initiated me into the ritual. He ladled the stool; he sat me down; he, then, filled the bowl several times and poured it over my head and shoulders, wetting me down. Then he proceeded to soap and wash me all over, beginning with my head, moving down my chest to my buttocks and then genitals, finally, bathing my feet. As I toweled dry, he proceeded with his own bath. I watched him avidly and he bathed, particularly taking note of his strong body and his sizable penis that hung between his legs as he sat on the small stool. He spent considerable time washing his buttocks and his penis. I took this as a cue for my doing the same. Indeed, I was quick to notice that after washing his penis, it stood a little larger than usual. As he toweled, I took time to look around at the other men sitting on their stools, bathing. Most were older. My eyes focused mainly on their genitals and the care they gave to bathing them. I remember wishing that I could reach out and touch them and feel their manhood. I later found that evenings produced a greater variety of men, both young and old, particularly after returning from work.
Next we proceeded to a quiet room. Actually, there were three such rooms. In any case, they were identical in size, about 25 feet by 25. Other than the light that shone as one opened the loose drapes when entering the room, the room was in total darkness. The room was fitted with about 20 futons (a thin mattress), each fitted with a sheet and a colorful cotton blanket. The futons lined each wall and persons lay on the futons with their heads to the wall their feet meeting the feet of the other futons directly across from them. My father was able to discern whether any of the futons were free and found two, side by side. We carefully, if not gingerly, stepped over bodies and lay upon our futon to rest. We both lay naked, covered by the warm cotton blanket and my father instructed me to rest or sleep. Initially, he cradled me in his arms in a spoon position and held me close until I acclimated to the darkness. I remember the feeling of warmth and closeness I felt in being held by my dad, our naked bodies touching, and wished that he'd never let me go. After a few moments, he fell asleep. He turned on his back, as did I. My curiosity, now, was greater than ever. As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, I was able to make out some of the features of the room and its occupants. Most lay covered under their blankets. Others lay exposed except for the blanket covering their genitals. In an instance, or two, naked bodies lay side by side. The sounds of the room intrigued me, too. Snoring was common. However, I detected sounds of muffled groans and moans as well. In the days and months to come, I would find the source of these sounds and understand their meaning clearly.
Each day at the bath brought new wonders. Somewhere in the first week, after we had bathed and headed for the quiet room, we encountered an old man in the hallway. His silvery white hair accented a tender and gentle face. As he approached us, he bowed deeply and crouched before me, his eyes conveying the gentleness of his character, and pressed me close to his partially naked body. I remember being surprised but not offended. In fact, it was as if an electrical charge passed between us and I felt a deep kinship for this kindly old man. He rose, bowed again to my father and continued on his way. This was just the beginning of one of the most meaningful relationships of my life. We continued to our quiet room. As usual, we cuddled and then lay separately. My father always seemed to fall asleep quite easily. I, on the other hand, lay there absorbing the sights and sounds of this new world. And I began to learn. On this particular occasion, I could hear some moans coming from a corner of the room facing me. I could see that there were two persons lying on one futon with a blanket barely covering them. They were naked. I watched as one head bobbed up and down. I could catch an occasional glimpse of the man's penis standing hard and erect and lay mesmerized at what I saw. I began to think of my own penis and the pleasure I got from rubbing it and associated that pleasure with the movements of the man's mouth over the penis below him. Moments passed and the moans grew louder and slightly muffled. I could see the man's hips move upward in thrusts and then heard a sigh of muffled pleasure.
Another time, I watched as a man lay on his back with his legs raised as another man inserted his hard cock into it and moved slowly in and out. Since they lay near the draped entrance, a faint light accented the wetness of the hard cock as it moved. From my perspective, the cock seemed huge, and in the wildness of my mind, I imagined touching and feeling that hard cock as it moved in and out.
The sexual exploits moved closer to us at another time. While we slept, or I should say, as my father slept, I noticed a hand from the futon adjacent to my father's slide under his cover. My father moved slightly, as if to adjust to the hand, and I watched in awe as the cover over my father's cock rippled. I watched my father and he continued to sleep or pretended to sleep. The hand continued, but now in an up and down movement. There was still no sign from my father that he knew what was occurring. About ten minutes into the event, however, I could detect some motion from my father's hips and, suddenly, to my amazement, the unseen hand uncovered the blanket and there, in full view, stood my father's hard cock. The hand now became a head and I watched him suck my father's hard cock until I felt the futon shudder with the thrusts of my father's hips to meet the head and warm mouth that sucked vigorously. Several thrusts more and then it was over. The head moved away and the hand drew the blanket back over my father's cock and quiet returned. It was the first time my sexual drive manifested itself so strongly. I realized my cock was hard and the vision of my father's large 9-inch cock etched itself into my memory. For the first time in my life, I used my hand to emulate the up and down movement of the head to reach an excruciatingly powerful orgasm. Of course, nothing came out. But the sensation was exquisite and so began my entrance into the realm of masturbation. On our way home, that same day, my father seemed a little more jubilant and buoyant, I noted.
Weeks later, another memorable event occurred. As my father slept, I saw the head of the man on the next futon move beneath his covers. My father continued to feign sleep as the head moved up and down. About fifteen minutes passed when the man rose up naked, drew back my father's cover to reveal a throbbing nine-inch cock, and lowered his ass until my father's entire cock disappeared. Then he began a slow rhythmic movement up and down. My father's hips abetted this slow movement by thrusting upward as the man's ass drove downward. Once more, I lay mesmerized by the sensuality of the act and wanted desperately to reach over and feel my father's hard cock as it moved in and out. It didn't last long. For the first time, I heard my father utter a low guttural moan and thrust hard several times, shooting his hot cum into the man's hot asshole. Afterwards, the man slid off and took my father's still throbbing cock into his mouth and sucked deliriously for another 5 minutes, until the cock grew flaccid. Then he covered him up and moved back to his own futon. My cock raged once more and I masturbated vigorously, coming several times.
I mentioned the profound influence the old man had on me during that first encounter in the hallway. We met often after that, the same ritual unfolding each time. He would bow to my father and me and then press me close to him and pat my head. I began to look forward to these encounters of which my father apparently approved. I was particularly attracted to his partially nude body, his gentle eyes, and the warmth of his affection for me. So it was one day, that, as I lay there taking in the sounds of the darkened room, my father asleep, that I sensed the presence of someone occupying the futon next to me. It was the old man. Without hesitation, he pressed his nude body to mine and showered me with gentle, whispered kisses over my whole body. He began with my forehead. Then he pressed his lips to my eyes, my mouth, my neck, and my nipples, gently kneading them with his lips. Finally, his head rested on my cock and balls. He held me tightly as he kissed my cock and balls tenderly, taking care to massage my belly with his left hand, his right hand massaging the balls of my feet. As he lay at my genitals, I could see his cock and balls directly in front of me. Not knowing what to do except to reciprocate, I fondly toyed with his now hard cock and balls. My mind raced back to the man sucking my father's cock, and, in an instant, I moved my head forward so as to envelop his cock and balls. He moaned and took my cock deep into his mouth and sucked hard. It was my first experience at feeling the warmth of a mouth on my hot cock and I reveled in my newfound ecstasy, pumping my hard cock into his mouth until I came. He came too. I felt the spurt of his warm cum deep in my throat and tasted. To me, it was an elixir of love. I pressed his small hips hard to feel the deep penetration of his cock in my mouth. We lay there for several minutes, resting. Afterwards, he returned to his earlier position and cradled me in his arms and we slept until I felt the urging of my father to tell me that it was time to go. The old man slept on and we returned home. After that time, my father often entrusted me to the old man. He would get up and leave the room and bow to the old man, as if to tell him to care for me while he's gone. I don't know where he went in these moments, but I later conjectured he experimented with the other two dark rooms as I lay gently in the arms of the old man. I learned much from these experiences, especially those with the old man. I learned tenderness and affection and the joy of giving reciprocally in matters sexually. I learned the importance of a gentle touch, a gentle kiss. I learned to key in on another's sensitivities and probe those sensitivities. Above all, I learned to give rather than receive. I found that the receptivity would come if I paid attention to my lover.
We left Japan before the war. I retained those vivid memories of Japan my entire life. I married, raised 3 children, and plied those lessons I learned in Japan to my sexual life with my wife. I was fortunate. She reciprocated in every way to my attentions with the same vigor I did. Our children, hopefully, learned too. I tried to instill in them a trust in and a respect for other human beings. It was never a naive blind trust. It was the trust the old man and my father taught, the trust of giving and caring.
At Carter Court, these memories are all very close to me. So it was that I decided to return to Japan to revisit some of those early memories. A close friend from Carter Court and I decided on the journey and spent two weeks reveling in the Japanese culture. I found that some things had changed and some had remained the same. The communal bath that my father and I attended was gone. It had been subsumed by urban development and the village had become a suburb of metropolitan Tokyo. But in Tokyo we still found a bath. And it was to one of them that we repaired to compare the changes. Whatever changes occurred now reflect modern times and modern sexuality. The entrance ritual remained the same. The shoe storage boxes had become modernized, however. And a fee was charged. The bath ritual remained the same. Everyone still sat on the stools, now plastic, and bathed in exactly the same way. This bath, too, added two square pools for rinsing: one was filled with warm water; the other with cool water. The dark rooms, too, remained, more or less, the same. Now, however, there were six dark rooms; one darkened TV room with futons and blankets; another TV room with individual cots; a mirrored wall and ceiling room with futons, dimly lit; a lounge area with TV and beer and pop dispensing machines; a sun tanning room; an outside deck for warm weather use; and, finally, hot and dry saunas.
The activity in the dark rooms is, probably, greater than the 1930's. It is probably a reflection of the urbanity of Japanese culture and a demonstration of the greater permissiveness that is reflected in many cultures around the world. My travel mate and I, after bathing, headed for one of the semi-darkened rooms. We lay on our futons in a 69 position, enjoying one another's cocks. Within minutes, four others knelt beside us wanting to join in. One man knelt over Jack's head and inserted his cock. As Jack sucked, he held two other cocks in each of his hands, while I sucked Jack. Meanwhile, another knelt over my cock, taking it deeply into his throat. All of this seems unbelievable and it did to us at the time. With so much frenetic activity, it was difficult to reach an orgasm. We played this out for a while and then went to one of the dark rooms. We resumed our position and began to make love. Two others joined us, but the loving was less frenetic and soon we paired off with our guests. My lover's preference was for gaijin, foreigners and we settled into a rhythm of loving. I remembered the old man throughout. My lover showered me with kisses and touches reminiscent of the old man's touch and I succumbed immediately to his attention. My cock throbbed in anticipation of cuming hard into my lover's mouth. Jack, I could hear, was beyond that point. I heard his groans of ecstasy as he shot into his lover's mouth. With that I exploded, spasms of cum spurting deep into his throat. My lover, too, came, shooting his hot cum all over my chest, licking me dry as we lay together in peace and harmony with the world.