Yvonne and Evan were now seniors as they settled in for their first day of classes for the new fall term while Ryoko, who was a sophomore, sat in her class less than three full days after forfeiting her virginity. The aching in her pussy had ceased and Evan's squiring her around campus before the first bell and during lunch may have quieted in some of their fellow students' minds speculation about his relationship with Yvonne. He still had Yvonne lay in his lap, but now Ryoko joined them with her head reclined against the leg opposite the one Yvonne used and his hand entwined in the Japanese girl's.

Evan was more than gratified that he could spend the entire day, except when he was in gym class, with Yvonne. He could keep an eye on her and help her if she needed it or she could help him. Yeah, it sucked that Ryoko couldn't be in class with them, but at least he was on the same campus with her while that wouldn't be true the following year when he started college. Moreover, she had classes with her friend Sophia, which made Evan feel better.

After school, Evan had a threesome with Yvonne and Ryoko, the latter experiencing some residual pain and soreness from her pussy still getting used to being penetrated. Nevertheless, she was glad she could now experience sex and the pleasure that was a part of it. Of course, she hadn't told her parents that she was the girlfriend of the son of her guardians or that she was on birth control. In the short term, Ryoko saw her future as being in America with Evan and not in Japan. She didn't realize that she was essentially Evan's slave, as was Yvonne, and that both girls were manipulated into desiring their subservience.

But those pangs for some side poon overtook Evan's sense of loyalty to them again later that week. Friday, his high school's football team played a non-league game against another school at Irwin Robertson Stadium,  which was where most of the area's high schools held their gridiron contests. He sat over on the opposition's side, where nobody knew him, and his eyes roamed the bleachers for prospects for a quarter before he found a target. She was a shorthaired redhead with clear peaches and cream skin in her late teens who was sitting with her family. She might have even been a sister of one of the players. Now how was he going to nail her?

That conundrum solved itself. She got up to use the bathroom just before halftime and he followed her. She went to the bathroom as he hung around in line at the concession stand and, when she emerged, he stealthily left the line and lined himself up with her body and shot her a flash of light from his penlight. She became a statue and he told her she found him very attractive and had an intense need to fuck him right then. When she revived, he led her out to his van and ushered her into it, whereupon they both flung their clothes aside. He left the overhead light on for a couple of minutes to take in her pale skin, her round C cups and the little red bush that acted as a sentry for her pussy.. He turned that light off and her mouth attacked his, both of them sinking their tongues deep into the other's oral cavity. He knew he didn't have much time, too,  before her family would come looking for her. He insinuated his fingers on to her clit and gave it a nice rubbing to boost the degree of her wetness while she fondled his cock. He briefly sucked her mouth watering nipples and then they laid on their sides with him behind her.

He pushed his spear into her and she breathily uttered, "Oh yes." He slid his left arm under her body and around her chest and his right reposed on her belly as he thrusted into her. When he got a stable rhythm going, he groped her tits, too, while he continued pistoning his boner in and out of her and delighted in the high pitched exclamations of pleasure she was producing. "God, her pussy is so slick,  she must be super wet!" he thought to himself as he pumped his manhood into her time and again, her moans increasing in volume and frequency. "God, that feels good!" she declared in between pants. She pulled her pillow into her face to muffle her sighs and grunts while he viciously steamhammered his weapon into her. She was pushed beyond her breaking point and squealed into the pillow while her body coped with the overwhelming tide of pleasure that permeated her being at that moment, their two nude bodies illuminated only by the moonlight that came through the windows of the van. His penis continued to glide in and out of her and she was loving every passage of it inside of her. She was now so oblivious to anything other than receiving more tendrils of pleasure that she didn't care that she was being screwed in a van in the parking lot of a school football stadium.

Evan, though, was paranoid about being discovered even as much as he was loving boinking this very cute redhead with sparkling green eyes that he was endeavoring to cum as quickly as he could now that she had climaxed, but that tension was actually delaying his orgasm and he pumped her to a second one before finally unspooling strands of balljuice into this stranger's twat.

Evan straddled her and shined the flashlight into her eyes again and suggested that she would never tell anyone, especially the police, about their encounter but would be glad that she did it. She would also use Plan B if she wasn't on the pill the next morning. They got dressed and she went to rejoin her family while he headed home.

"God, that chick was awesome," he enthused to himself on the drive to his house as he replayed the pickup and fuck in his mind. He was nonetheless able to then kind of turn a switch on inside of himself and go from horny teen on the prowl for poon to being the loving partner to Ryoko and Yvonne. Playing hide the salami with another girl was like when you visited the amusement park: it didn't mean you didn't love what you had at home. It was merely a fun diversion.

On a more serious note, though, Evan was already thinking about next summer. He was interested in the idea of spending at last some of it either in Japan or in Europe. To do that would require a fair amount of money since he would be taking Ryoko, Yvonne and his parents. So he needed to get paid bigtime and in a way that wouldn't see him having to confront a cop of somebody from the IRS over it. And with all the security cameras that were out there now along with the reporting requirements for the movement of money, that task was becoming harder and harder by the day. Plus where would he store the dollars? He was thinking in terms of six figures now and you can't shove that kind of cash behind a bookcase or a dresser because there isn't  enough room. Also, a bank is going to pay A LOT of attention to someone who probably ordinarily does his/her business with wire transfers and credit cards who suddenly withdraws such a substantial part of his assets. He couldn't have someone wire money into an account he set up because then it would be reported to the government, who then might ask questions about why he has come into such a large amount while not doing anything.

The obvious solution would be to have a corporate bigwig hire him, but gaining access to someone who could afford to pay him, say, a million a year for "executive consulting" was extremely difficult for a whole raft of reasons, not the least of which that they often had some kind of security detail or personal assistant with them. Moreover, if that person was part of a publicly traded company, shareholders would want to know what kind of advice he would be giving as part of his "consultations."

Furthermore, he had to stay away from anybody famous, even when it came to CEOs or prominent investors. That is because as soon as a Bill Gates or a Warren Buffet walks into any place people of all economic classes would whip their cellphone cameras out to document that they were in the same location as these two business giants. Ballplayers and, of course, celebrities were also out of the question.

Sure, Evan could shake down fellow students and people in his neighborhood, albeit for much smaller amounts, if he wanted to be like some petty televangelist on the make, but that thought made him feel dirty.

Then he got lucky. On the way home from the rich people's mall, where he had struck out due to a lack of perceived opportunity, he noticed that the penthouse of a well known international construction company was lit up. He cruised by a couple of times to case it. There was a limo stationed at the front door and the driver was standing outside of the driver's side door. Rolling his eyes at the driver's stupidity since he had left himself so exposed, Evan parked across the street at another industrial park and calmly walked up to the driver, shined his flashlight in his eyes and told him to obey his orders. He was to let him into the limo and access to his client. Evan's heart was beating a thousand miles a minute because he really needed the CEO to exit the building either alone or with only one other person. He was alone. Charles Kerrwell was a billionaire, but nobody really cared that much since he was averse to publicity. He was one of the anonymous rich and when Kernwell was let into the limo, Evan hit him with a light beam and a command to obey all of his orders. The driver got into the car and Evan told him to stay parked. Evan turned back to Kerrwell and directed him to bring him $100,000 at his now customary spot behind the rightfield fence at the park the following Saturday at 8 a.m. and Kernwell was also to use his regular car without a driver and utilize the excuse, if they ask, that he was giving the money out as bonuses because nothing makes more of an impression on one's staff like cash does. He was to tell nobody about this, not even the cops, the IRS or anyone else. After reminding the driver to keep Evan's existence a secret, Evan scurried back across the street, got back into his car and left.

When Kerrwell showed up with the bucks, Evan's hands were trembling. It was good Evan didn't stipulate 20's or he never would have been able to get it all into his book bag. He walked home hurriedly, put the lot into a paper bag and shoved it in his closet under some clothes he never wore. He then told his parents to not withdraw any money from the bank while, after he skimmed $20,000 off, giving them each $1,000 a week. That way, there doesn't appear to be any abnormal activity at the bank and the family would have enough money to take the trip since they would only be depositing their paychecks and not the windfall that Kernwell had given Evan.

That night, as he laid in bed naked with the equally bereft of covering Ryoko and Yvonne, he broached the subject of taking a trip to Japan that coming summer. "That sounds like it would be fun," Yvonne bubbled. "And I could be your interpreter," Ryoko chirped. "I intend to have us spend a couple of months there, Ryoko, so that you can kind of touch base again with your home country." "Thank you Evan, that's really sweet. So where in Japan do you want to go, sweety?" "God, I don't know. Tokyo, Kyoto, I  guess. Any recommendations?" "Maybe you want to see Osaka, too. My dialect is different from those cities, though. I'm from just outside of Fukuoka, so I speak Hakata dialect. I'm going to have to remember to speak standard Japanese when I go to those places." "How do you say, 'I love you' in Japanese Ryoko?" Evan inquired. "Literally, it's 'ai shiteiru yo,' but that is way too direct, so we usually say, 'daisuki!.' In Hakata dialect, it's 'suito.'" "So I guess I would say to Yvonne, 'daisuki!" and to you 'suito,' Evan estimated. Ryoko giggled. "Maybe," she grinned. "How much affection can I show to Yvonne there?" "Displays of affection in public in Japan are very much frowned on. I think it would be okay for her to hold your arm, but that would be about it since you are brother and sister. You and I can hold hands and maybe have an occasional quick kiss. You aren't supposed to display strong emotion in public in Japan. It's considered undignified." "What do you think of the behavior of people on the street in America?" Evan wondered. "The best thing about Americans is their upfront honesty. It is also the worst thing about them," she opined. "So we seem like a bunch of graceless clods to Japanese huh?" "I hate to say it, but maybe that's true," Ryoko giggled.

"What do you think about American girls?" "In Japan, we admire the looks of American girls, at least the ones who aren't fat. But not their manners. They don't seem to like being girls." "What about American guys?" Yvonne quizzed. "Sorry to say this Evan, but while American guys are considered kinder to women than Japanese men and are bigger and stronger, they have no guts, don't seem to know how to show respect for anyone and complain too much.  But what I REALLY don't like about American guys is how willfully crude they are. Everything is 'shit this' and 'fuck that.' It's gross." "What about Japanese men?" Evan asked. "Bad in bed, don't know how to talk to women, have mother complexes, drink too much and not self assertive enough. On the other hand, their cocks are harder than those of American guys, they are better at sucking it up when things get tough and being team players."  "What about Japanese women?" Yvonne queried. "Oh, we're perfect," Ryoko giggled. "Just kidding. Too concerned with style over substance, too materialistic, backbiting on other mothers, not streetwise and too embarrassed to get on birth control, which results in more and more 'dekichatta kekkon,' or marriages that happen only after the girl gets pregnant. That's so disgusting. On the other hand, we love being girls and looking good, we know when to push away from the dinner table, we don't talk or act like pigs and I think we do a better job raising our children than American women do because we truly respect education and emphasize the importance of family and having a smooth running society. Americans only pretend that they like those things and then selfishly pursue their own agendas no matter how adversely it affects their families or society."

"Yet," Evan countered," you're pretty much a refugee from Japan." Yeah,"  Ryoko admitted. "That's one thing I really hate about being Japanese: the suffocating conformity. We Japanese like things to be very predictable, but sometimes that goes too far, such as the attitudes toward people like me and foreigners. I love my culture, but some things about it need to be tweaked." "So who do Japanese women prefer? American guys or Japanese guys?" "Oh, overwhelmingly Japanese guys. It's because there is no language and cultural barrier, they're more predictable, they work harder, they're spiritually stronger and their children are a lot less likely to get bullied for being different. Also, when you marry an American guy, you have to be direct all the time and we as Japanese females prefer to speak vaguely because it  just feels more feminine. Being direct gets tiresome after a while for many Japanese women." "Does that mean that a marriage between you and me would be doomed, Ryoko?" "In my case, I've lived more than half my life in America and I'm used to that behavior. But if you're a Japanese woman who has never lived overseas, it gets tougher to build that tolerance." "Yeah, I can see that. Different people prefer different things. But just understand, Ryoko, that I love you, no matter how much a douche I might act like sometimes." "Well, you kept me from maybe being bullied in Japan and I will always love you for that, Evan. I know it's a big imposition on your family to take me in and I'm grateful that Yvonne has been so nice to me. So I will return your kindness by working as hard as I can in school so that you won't think I was taking you guys for granted." "Suito Ryoko." "Suito Evan *giggle."