This is what I get for not wearing panties. Through the rest of the evening, I had Neil's cum steadily dripping out of me on to the crotch of my hot pants. Leather is no fun when it gets wet. I had to go into the bathroom a few times just to wipe his sperm off of both me and the shorts. It's hotter than shit for a girl who used to be a guy to know that sperm is swimming inside of her looking for an egg to fertilize. I have no idea if people who were born women feel that way, though.

By the time Neil and I were done staining the guest room sheets, Debbie and Dylan were back downstairs. When me, Dylan and Cory took their girlfriends home, on the way back to pick up Justin and Jason, I asked Dylan if he had porked Debbie. He confessed that he finally had and, if the way he told the tale is anything to judge by, they both had a good old time. He also said that my advice from earlier in the week had really helped him a lot, which was cool. 

Debbie had apparently been quite worked up by what I had done to her. She and Dylan made out for a few minutes before he suggested that they go upstairs for some privacy, never mind that it wasn't even his house. They ended up in Brian's bedroom, where they continued to swap spit and then Dylan stuck his hand up her top and forced it under her bra. She undid it for him and he decided to pull both the top and the bra off of her, revealing her A cup tits. He sucked and licked her nipples, apparently the first time she had ever let a guy do that, and was quite taken with how pleasant that felt. He opened her jeans while he was doing that and rubbed her clit to a phenomenal orgasm, which earned him the right in her eyes to peel the jeans and panties off of her and eat her lightly thatched pussy. As I advised, he was rather tenacious about it and half a dozen orgasms later, she whispered lustily, "fuck me Dylan!" Now when a guy eats a girl, she will often feel an ache inside of her that makes her cunt feel empty and wants it to be filled with a penis and that is probably what Debbie was experiencing.

He got on top of her and slowly pushed his piston rod deeper and deeper into her virgin hole. He made contact with her hymen and she drew a lot of air through her teeth to cope with the pain. He eventually got it balls deep inside of her, held it there for a bit and then started to pump it in and out. As I instructed, he cleared his head and relaxed his body so that he was just a fuck machine because he already had a full load in his balls and didn't want to shoot off to early. After ten minutes or so, she began to moan and enjoy being fucked and then demanded that he do it harder, which he did, and she came by screaming into his mouth. A minute later, he pasted her hot box with streams of his sperm filled semen. As it turned out, part of the reason they were up in the room so long was apparently trying to clean the blood and semen out of Brian's sheets.

The next day, Dylan and Debbie showed up at my doorstep. I told them that my parents were in L.A. visiting friends from college to explain why I was the only one there. Debbie confessed to Dylan that being tied up the night before had turned her on and Dylan wanted to learn how to do it. I took them upstairs into my bedroom. I told her to get naked since it was just Dylan and me there. She reluctantly assented and it was pretty evident that she was a bit of a late bloomer still in the earlier stages of puberty. I showed Dylan how to tie her hands behind her back and then let him practice it a few times until he got it right. God, she had such a cute little ass. My pussy was super wet from looking at it. I then grabbed a studded leather collar and snapped it on to her neck. I set a couple of five pound dumb bells I  used to keep my arms toned at her feet and anchored the o-ring on the collar to them so that she was now bent over with her ass and pussy exposed to anyone who wanted to look at them or use them. Dylan pulled his cock out and, after checking to see if she was wet, he forced his prong in between her tender pink folds, grasped her hips and fucked her, enthusiastically ramming his engorged fuck stick into her 15 year old steaming, fleshy ditch. She initially felt some pain because of the soreness from the night before and her pussy still just getting acclimated to penetration, but it wasn't long before she was moaning, sighing and grunting as she absorbed his jackhammering of her sex furnace, tenderizing it with his flesh hammer until she was panting like an overheated locomotive. God, the sound of a woman in the throes of passion is just amazingly beautiful and erotic and my panties were soaked now while I watched him fuck his 5'1" mate, compelling her to cum amid guttural gasps and declarations to her chosen deity. while the room resounded with his own raspy, feral grunts and the sound of his pubic bone rebounding off of her ass with each thrust. A little over five minutes later, he machine gunned glops of semen into her humid hall.

So that she wouldn't stain my tatami mat floor with Dylan's cum, I wiped her pussy for her, which had to be humiliating, since it was like cleaning a baby up after he had fouled his diaper. I untied her and asked her how it felt. She acted like she was in a bit of stupor, which told me that she had entered sub space. I didn't tell Dylan that because I wasn't sure I could trust him with her from there on in if I informed him of that. All I told him was that being tied up often had a very relaxing effect on people and that once you untie someone you need to treat them as you would after making love to them, with tenderness and consideration. So I let them lay in my bed and cuddle for a while before I kicked them out.

I took my clothes off, spread my legs open, fondled my boobs and lightly nuzzled my clit with my index finger while I recalled what I had just seen. I so wanted to lick Debbie's cute little pussy and almost wished I had a cock again so that I could fuck it. I imagined how tight it must have felt around Dylan's dick as my index and middle fingers danced on my clit hood, nudging me ever closer to climax, those digits drenched in my juices, my breasts subtly wavering and my breathing transforming into a series of bleating gasps and sudden expulsions of air, the blood in my clit concentrated at the tip, making it feel as hot as a match head, before it shuddered, the soul melting waves of pleasure rippling through my torso and into my brain, making me feel like a floating mass of jello.

Monday, I got a call from John, who was at his office at the time. Apparently. Mr. Shimadayama had called him and was asking for a favor. He had a 16 year old son, Daisuke, who, as the story I heard went, had been bullied a lot at the Japanese run private school he was sent to here in the states. This resulted in Daisuke turning inward and becoming an otaku who retreated into a world of worship of visual kei (X Japan, Luna Sea, Versailles, etc) rock bands and manga (Japanese comic books). So Mr. Shimadayama wanted me to "entertain" Daisuke-kun to try to help bolster his confidence. "Christ," I thought. "I'm becoming a real angel of mercy!"

Now given that there was no longer any violent crime, the bullying was likely psychological. The guy living inside me liked the problem solving possibilities of this. I came up with an idea and phoned John back and had him set up a meeting between me and Mr. Shimadayama for the ensuing Friday. I laid out my plan: Mr. Shimadayama would arrange it so that I could enroll at Daisuke's school and then I would hit on the kid and, hopefully, that would make him cooler at school as well as giving him some experience with girls. It was going to be weird since I hadn't set foot on any educational institution's campus in over 20 years and I was going to have to act as if I wasn't the college graduate I actually was.

I woodshedded a ton of visual kei songs as well as just another metal and hard rock songs I liked, both Japanese and not, to prepare for this role, as it were.

The Monday in late August when Daisuke's private school began its fall term, an underling of Mr. Shimadayama escorted me to the office and utilizing a combination of falsified documents and just outright bribery, I was given a backdoor admission  I had my ESP Eclipse in a gig bag over my shoulder, a Les Paul shaped guitar with hot and responsive EMG active pickups that positively roars. They gave me the school uniform, which was a white blouse, a red jacket with the school crest on it, a red plaid short skirt, white socks and we could choose what we wanted to wear for shoes. Almost all the girls chose tennis shoes and that is what I selected, too.

The way they had the classes set up was that the students stayed in a homeroom while the teachers moved between them to teach their specialties. The only exception was for music, which had its own dedicated room. I went to the classroom, which was the one Daisuke was assigned to as well, and found a seat. Of course, the teacher introduced the new student and I heard "kawaii! (she's so cute!)"  being whispered by some of the students while I spun the bullshit story of the century as to how I ended up at that school. I smiled on the outside and was laughing my ass off on the inside. I was also sneaking peaks at some of the other girls, almost all of them insanely cute themselves.

In between lectures, some of the students came up to introduce themselves and a couple asked me to show them my guitar and tried to use music as a springboard by which to get to know me. I kind of kept things on the downlow for a few days so that everybody could get used to me and I wouldn't stand out TOO much. Well, except for the stunt I pulled in music class. As soon as I got there, I plugged into a Fender Deluxe Reverb combo that was sitting on the floor, cranked it, and launched into a Yngwie Malmsteen song, "Rising Force." "Kakko ee jan!" somebody remarked, which meant that he thought I looked cool playing it. A soon as the teacher walked in, of course, I had to roll my volume off. I can't remember what it was they were learning, but I was pretty bored by it and quietly noodled around acoustically through most of it. That resulted in my reputation now becoming, "the girl who could play fast." The Japanese love technical accomplishment in music and so this was a good handle to have hung on me.

The next week, I started whispering to my neighbors in my class asking who the bespectacled kid in the adjoining row but a few seats up was. "That's Daisuke Shimadayama. He's a total nerd," one of the students spat. "Really?" I wondered. "I think he's kinda cute," I asserted. "You gotta be kidding!" As I anticipated it would, it then got around that I liked Daisuke, which, because I was the cutest girl in class since I looked like that idol singer I mentioned in the first chapter and all the boys wanted to get into my panties, was already causing his classmates to reconsider him. "Do you think he would be interested in talking to me?" I asked another classmate like I had doubts. "Any boy would want to talk to you, Miwa-chan," she claimed. That Thursday, acting like I had to really screw my courage up, I tentatively approached Daisuke-kun and stuck my hand out. His response was pretty curt, perhaps thinking he was being punked yet again. "Ne, Daisuke-kun, issho ni tabemasen ka? (would you eat lunch together with me?)." "Eh? Hontou ni?" (Huh? Really?). "Hontou yo!" (really!)." "H-h-hai (Y-y-yes.)," he accepted.

At lunch, I kicked another classmate out of her seat to sit next to him and started talking to him about visual kei bands I liked and asked him which ones he was into and other crap. I could see the stares in the other students like, "what does she see in HIM?" He actually was cute. I didn't understand why he was being picked on. Probably a case of a kid with a little bit of an unconventional outlook, which doesn't go down that well in the "conformism is a virtue" Japanese culture. When school let out at 4 p.m. (fuck, t heir school day is long), I surprised him by grabbing his arm and inviting him over to my house for a jam and just to hang out. I loaded him into my car, which astonished him, too, as the students weren't allowed to drive according to school rules. I told him that nobody said anything to me about it and off we went to my home.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him sneaking peeks at my breasts, face and legs. "Don't worry, my mom died a few years ago and my dad is away on business, so we have the place all to ourselves," I stated. We went upstairs to my music room and he exhaled a "sugee (this is fucking amazing)!" In keeping with etiquette, I insisted it wasn't all that. He picked up one of my guitars, a Gibson Les Paul, and I directed him to plug it into a an ENGL half stack that was next to the Marshall half stack I was hooked into. We made a few runs at different X Japan, Versailles and Loudness songs. He was still an evolving player, but it was nevertheless fun. He was a real nice kid, too, once he got out of the oppressive social environment of his school. His hands were shaking while I conversed with him at school, but he was opening up now as we put the guitars down and sat on the sofa.

"Ne, Daisuke-kun, kanojo iru? (Hey, Daisuke, do you have a girlfriend?)." "Iya! (no!)." "Yokatta ne (I'm glad)," I smiled sweetly and quietly. "Daisuke-kun kawaii yo ne (You're so cute Daisuke)." I grabbed his arm and put my head on his shoulder. I pulled it away slightly and closed my eyes and puckered my lips a touch, my mouth getting closer and closer to his. He backed away initially. "Watashi iya (do you think I'm not attractive)?" "Iya, sou iu koto nai (no, it's definitely not that)," he blurted. I moved my hand behind his head and guided his lips to mine and gave him a long, slow kiss. When I pulled off, he looked nonplussed. "Ii (is it okay)?" "Ii yo," he tremulously answered. I stroked his cheek and laid another smack on him with a little tongue. "Ochitsuite (relax)" I pleaded as I continued to kiss him. "Ne, dakishimete (hug me)" I implored. He did that and I have to confess I liked it as I initiated another kiss. He eventually got into the rhythm of things and we spent the next hour rolling around on the sofa kissing. I took his lefthand and placed it on my left boob over my blouse and held it on there so that he would get the message that I wanted him to feel me up. "Kimochi ii (that feels so good)!"

I unbuttoned his white shirt and rubbed his chest with the palm of my righthand. He did the same to me, except with his left, and was trying to pop a boob out of my bra. I told him I would show him how to undo a bra, so I tossed my shirt off and demonstrated how to pull the hooks apart. He fumbled a bit but then separated them. I had him do it one more time just to make sure he knew what he was doing. When I slid my bra off, he let out a "ohh!" when he caught a glimpse of my breasts. He put his hand on one and my nipples became stiff under it. "Ah, kimochi ii!" I said a little louder, encouraging him to keep it up. His mouth then covered my left nipple and sucked on it. "Yasashiku yasashiku Daisuke-kun (do that gently Daisuke),"  I taught. "Oh fuck yes," I said in english. 'Yamenaide (don't stop)!" I continued. I took that lefthand and guided it up my left thigh to my panty concealed pussy. He gingerly rubbed it while he continued to suck my nipples He got braver and his hand crawled  under my panties and I felt his palm and fingers now stimulating my clit.

I pushed his hand away and got up and removed my skirt, panties and shoes and then pulled his shoes, socks and pants off, leaving both of us naked. His cock, of course, was at full extension, though it was only about five inches. Big enough to still get the job done, though. "Ne, Daisuke-kun, nanika oshiteiku yo (Hey Daisuke, I'm gong to teach you a few things)," I explained to him. He agreed to it and I laid down next to him again. I pointed to my clit and told him what it was and brought his hand to it and taught him how to rub a girl off, which was a very enjoyable thing for me, *lol. I also explained how to prepare for sex and what women are thinking during it. I reached over with my righthand and began stroking his cock. "Kataku natchatta neeee (it's really gotten stiff, hasn't it)?" I observed. He wasn't long, but his cock was as thick as his dad's and it was just as hard. It was still going to feel good when I finally let him put it inside me. He shivered every time my hand passed over the head of his cock, his precum lubricating it and in less than ten minutes of this he blasted a huge wad of cum all over himself, my belly and some on the sofa cushion. "Ah, tappuri dashita ne (man, you came a lot)!" I teased slightly, licking his cum off of my fingers. "Oishii (mmm, tasty)!" I pronounced.

After I wiped the mess up with some tissues, we laid on the sofa with my head on his shoulder and his arm around my shoulder. It was getting late for hm, though, and he went home a little while later, though not before we made arrangements to pick him up the following morning. I was looking forward to it.

Not wanting to be seen by the teachers in my car, I parked i t in a neighborhood next to the school and we walked hand in hand into the campus. You would think I was giving a hummer to Osama Bin Laden in front of the new World Trade Center for all the looks of sheer puzzlement from the other students when they saw us acting like a couple. One guy yelled, "Hey, what are you doing with that pipsqueak?" Using the word, "omee," which is such a rough way of saying "you" that it is often associated with the speech patterns of Yakuza members, I shouted back, "bullies like you are only covering for your having one centimeter (roughly half an inch) long dicks!" He then walked up to us and I got into his face, asking him who he thought he was challenging me while I was furtively measuring the distance between my foot and his crotch. I got  it lined up and suddenly kicked him right in the goolies, dropping him before punting him in the face, breaking his nose.

I was good, though, because no guy was going to publicly complain about being dropped by a 100 pound girl. Therefore, there was no need to fear retribution from the school's administration for the violence I had just perpetrated.

I made a show of kissing him in the hallway before we went into class. During gym, a few of the girls also wanted to know why I was interested in Daisuke-kun. "Look, here is one way to think about it: while girls obsess about going out with the so-called cool guys, those are also the same kind of boys who will screw around on you at the drop of a hat. Daisuke-kun will never have an affair behind my back, and he appreciates being with me more than the cool guys will being with their girlfriends" I propounded. They had to agree with that because it was so obviously true.

When classes ended for the day, I walked with Daisuke back to my car and we headed back to my house. This time, we went right to my bedroom. I jumped into bed and said, "Ne, Daisuke-kun, kite (Daisuke, come here baby)" and we had a heavy makeout session. I rolled him over on to his back and pulled his clothes off (this was after he had gotten me naked from the waist up) and went right for his cock. I licked around the head and fondled his balls before lowering my mouth over his hard on and clamping my lips on it. I rubbed the underside of the shaft with my tongue a little and then bobbed my head up and down. "Sugee kimochi ee (Fuck, that feels good!)"  he roughly rasped and expressed that he couldn't believe how good I was doing it for him. In fairly short order, he, erupted and I swallowed his cum down, but only after showing it on my tongue to him.

I shed my panties and skirt and laid on the couch. I said it was time he learned to eat pussy for me. He was very tentative at first, of course, but we worked it through and eventually he was making me see stars with the intense orgasms he was giving me before his jaw tired. "Ojouzu desu ne (you're so good at it)!" I celebrated. He was hard again by that time and I said, "Irete chodai (please put it in me)!" He scooted on top of me and I grasped his organ and put it at my opening and he pushed it in. I wrapped my legs around his back and told him to relax and keep his head clear and he would last a while. His hips started to slowly shove his cock in and out of me. God, his cock was harder than any American guy I'd been with and the friction was divine. "Ahh, kimochi ii!" I moaned, my vaginal muscles clenching and unclenching his meat stick, my arms wrapped around his shoulders and holding him tight as his solider invaded me over and over and over. "Daisuke-kun, kimochni ii! Ii!" I exclaimed and I was just about at the five minute mark and I could feel the tension and heat accumulating inside me before it all broke and ran rampantly through me while I called his name. I grabbed his ass and pulled hard on it with each instroke because I wanted him as deep inside me as I could. At ten minutes, I was thrashing about while I felt the multiple orgasms rent my senses and they went on for a bit before he dispensed with his accumulated load by hurtling it against my vaginal walls and my cervix. 

"Ah, sugoku kimochi yokatta (that felt amazing!)!" Daisuke-kun smiled. "Yokatta!" I replied. "Otoko ni natta ne Daisuke-kun (you just became a man, didn't you Daisuke?). Daisuke-kun ii ne (Daisuke is so wonderful)," I complimented in a gentle manner.  "Miwa-chan ni deatte yokatta (I'm so glad I met you my little Miwa)," he offered, elated. We talked for a while and then he went home a much happier guy than he was a week ago. That made me feel good.

The next day, which was a Friday, one of the girls in gym class asked if I had sex with Daisuke yet. I, of course, said I had. She wanted to know how it was. I asserted that it was wonderful and that he was really good at oral sex. A big "EH?" went up among the other young women, which I thought was pretty hilarious. "Are you guys going to do it again this weekend?" the girl asked. I basically gave her the Japanese female equivalent of "you bet your ass!"

We were a couple for another couple of months. Mr. Shimadayama told me that I didn't have to carry things on for so long, but I really did like Daisuke and wanted to make sure that I was able to teach him as much as possible, including how to be a better guitarist, and keep psychologically buoying him. At the end of November, Mr. Shimadayama decided it would be better to send him back to Japan and hopefully Daisuke could make a new start with his life. As soon as Daisuke was gone, I dropped out of the Japanese school.