His cock is still dripping when he pulls out. I’m too worn-out to move or ask for anything. Yet Ian’s a mind reader who knows I want his fingers in my pussy, slowly fucking me to one last orgasm.
Honestly, he wants to see his cum spill out of my ass, but I don’t care. Sounds hot to me!
“Best way to celebrate not being sick anymore.” The bed bounces as Ian flops down beside me. I’m still too tired to move, but luckily I’ve got a boyfriend who likes to snuggle up to me after sex. “You’re amazing.”
He kisses my cheek. It’s so hilariously gentle compared to the pounding my ass took, but that sums up our relationship pretty well. “Yup.” I roll back into his embrace. “I sure am. Took one for the team, and now all of Japan thinks we’re married.”
Ian’s hand takes mine beneath my breasts. His hesitance tells me what he’s going to say before it comes out of his mouth. “We could let the rest of the world think that too, Mrs. Mathers.”
I’m in a good enough mood to humor him. “If there’s any question that your ass is also mine, then I’ve got some explaining to do.”
“Now I know you didn’t bring a strap-on.”
“I could, you know. Could pick one up on the way home.”
He shudders. “I’m sure you could.”
“My birthday will be here before you know it.”
“It sure will be.”
“Tell you what.” I pull him down atop me for a kiss. “Day you let me fuck your ass marks when I propose to you.”
“This is a really weird arrangement.” He kisses me back. “Think I like it.”
Ah, yes, the democratic relationship between two dominant personalities. Always ends with both of us getting fucked in the ass. Oh, well. That means more showers together afterward. I love any reason to wash my man’s body under a stream of hot water so I can get him hard again. God only knows what we’ll do after that.
***
We are so ready to get our fucked asses home.
I’m sure Tokyo is a wonderful city, but America calls, and I am looking forward to getting some damn sleep in my own time zone. I was supposed to be home days ago. Know how many meetings for my charities I’ve had to move around? I swear to God, if Victoria Nicholson blows up my phone one more time…
Right. Gonna turn off my phone until we’re up in the air, because I don’t need this stress right now.
Ian, Valerie and I sit in the posh waiting area of Narita Airport’s private aircraft wing. Our pilot and the flight attendants are doing the final checks of the Mathers’ plane before we’re allowed to board. Valerie has been complaining of nausea and swollen feet like she’s well into her third trimester. I also daresay she has more shopping bags to get home than I do. Then again, she has a toddler son to buy a ton of Japanese toys for. (I saw so many Japanese language learning materials get on the plane that I hope Little Boy Capetti is looking forward to his future in kanji.)
I absolutely do not anticipate the arrival of a fourth person. I’m even more shocked to see Junri standing with a suitcase and a nod to Ian, who has apparently anticipated her presence.
“What’s this?” I ask. Another woman – the one who answered Junri’s bedroom door when I went to find her a week ago – approaches and hands Junri another bag. Their height disparity would be adorable if it weren’t for my confusion clouding my ability to find these types of situations cute. “She coming with us?”
“My father and her uncle requested it. Thought I told you?”
“No.” I don’t have a problem with Junri tagging along on our flight, but it would’ve been nice for someone to tell me about it first. “Business meeting?”
“My family is sending me to oversee the next phase of our business matters, yes,” Junri says, angular face pointed in my direction. When a flight attendant appears to tell us to board, Junri turns and kisses the other woman on the cheek. The shorter woman who has an affinity for sending foreign women to gay bars gives me a trollish look before showing herself out. “My girlfriend,” Junri then explains with no fuss.
“But… you were with…” I shut my mouth, but the question is already out there. Did I, or did I not, interrupt a date the other night? Wow. What a two-timing…
“My family is very Western, yes?” Junri rolls her bag toward the glass door leading to the tarmac. “I hear the poly thing is popular in America.”
The flight attendant shows Junri and Valerie toward the plane. Ian and I stay behind, partly because I’m gobsmacked. “Remember that, hon,” Ian says, briefcase slung over his shoulder in true Japanese fashion. “Polyamory is big in America.”