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From: RAM <R_A_M@bigfoot.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Sunflower Alley: Baby-San - Hangar  [repost]
Date: Sat, 16 Jun 2001 06:10:03 -0400
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Comments may be sent to R_A_M@bigfoot.com

This story is an excerpt from Sunflower Alley.
The entire Sunflower Alley series may be found at:
  From the Corner of 1st & Rowan to Sunflower Alley,
  http://www.bigfoot.com/~R_A_M , a non-commercial site.

-----------------------


Baby-San - Hangar
(c) 1998-1999 by R.A. Mendoza

 
Relieved, but still feeling guilty about sneaking my contraband to town
in an AWOL bag, I slump in the seat as the cab bumps down the dirt road
to Fussa.  Tonight, I've finally made up my mind, I will ask Keiko be my
girlfriend and live with me. Baby-San will be mine, mine alone. Having a
steady girl will be much better than fucking girls everyone else is
fucking.   

Keiko is nineteen, she'd told me; so, even if she has been with some
GIs, it couldn't have been that many. Not like Didi who, in comparison,
has probably been fucking GIs for maybe half of Keiko's life. Didi is
not only well worn, but she's well known. If I were to take Didi around
with me, like on base, which I won't because she isn't as nice looking
as Keiko, I'd be sure to run into guys who had been with her. Just
think: if I were to marry Didi, reenlist, and then take her to the
States, eventually we'd be sure to run into guys that had fucked her in
Japan. Jesus. I'm not sure how to feel about that. In a way, it turns me
on, pondering these things, relishing the thought of meeting guys who
had dicked my woman. But, a man shouldn't marry a woman that other men
have fucked; at the very least, he shouldn't marry a woman that a lot of
men have fucked.   

What's true about Didi probably goes for Reiko, too. Reiko is nice
looking and guys would want to fuck her; but she's younger than Didi so
it's possible that she hasn't been with as many guys. But, she's older
than Keiko, and if I'm out fucking bar girls, and so is every other
GI.... It's even possible that Donovan has fucked Reiko; she works in
the bar that Donovan frequents. God, I don't even want to think about
that. At this moment, Keiko looks like a better deal than either Didi or
Reiko, even if she isn't as good a fuck.   

***   

"I want you to be my girl."   

What's he want? her face asks. What will I have to do if I become his
girl?   

I unzip my AWOL bag and extract the brown paper sack containing the four
cartons of potential black-market cigarettes. Taking the bag, she takes
a peek inside; then she disappears into the back of the bar. When she
returns, empty handed, she leads me to a booth.   

"Why you want me for girlfriend?"   

"I like you."   

"You buy me drink?"   

Deliberately, I reach into my back pocket, pull out my wallet, extract a
thousand yen note and slide it on the table at her.   

"I know place we stay," she says.   

***   

If I decide to rent it, the room is going to cost me 5000 yen a month.
It's not a bad room, smaller than I'd imagined a room for two people to
live in should be. But, it's cheap, less than fifteen dollars.   

Sitting on the bed at my side, Keiko turns her body and looks directly
at me. Her scrutiny makes me uncomfortable; I feel like I am about to be
attacked.   

"What you do for me, I be your girl?"   

I'm going to save your life, Baby-San. I'm going to be your everlasting
boyfriend. I'll learn to love your inscrutable flat face; I'll take you
home to Dad and Martha and they'll wonder where they went wrong. I'll
save you from countless dicks in you, day after day, week after week,
year after year. I'm your savior, Baby. I'm God, come to save your
pussy. I'm doing you a favor, Baby. Isn't it obvious? Doesn't it look
like I love you?   

"I don't want you to work in the Sunflower anymore."   

"I have to work."   

"In the Sunflower?"   

She wants to continue working? Jesus. I'm dumbfounded. What the hell's
going on? Why isn't she grateful for my asking. If she doesn't like me,
she can say, "You're a nice guy, but we really wouldn't go good
together." She can tell me that, but she can't really think that she can
take my money and sit in the Sunflower with other guys while I'm
working?   

"I need money. I have to pay bill."   

"If I give you money, you shouldn't have to work."   

"You pay me for stay with you. I no can stay other GIs. I need
clothes."   
"How many GIs have you stayed with?"   

"One."   

"One?" Only one, besides me?  

"One week, one GI."   

"One GI a week?" Oh. She works on a quota. If she started at eighteen,
that's around fifty guys, maybe a hundred, that she's fucked. She's
trying to keep it down, just in case she has to work in the bars for ten
or fifteen years. Five hundred guys she might have to fuck. I don't
blame her for not being overly enthusiastic about fucking. God, if she
liked to fuck, she'd wind up screwing thousands of guys.   

"That's okay," I say, trying to adopt an understanding tone of voice,
letting her know that I don't care that she's screwed a hundred guys.
"That's okay. I still want you to live with me even if you've stayed
with other guys, okay? That doesn't matter! I'll give you ten thousand
yen a month. And I'll pay the rent, too." I'm a magnanimous guy. Fifteen
thousand yen total, almost 42 bucks, about one third of my pay. But
that's okay; a man's supposed to pay for a woman; that's the way I was
brought up.   

"Okay. But I work Sunflower. Okay?"   

"What? Don't you understand what I'm saying? Why do you want so much
money?"   

"I need!" she whines.   

This is a lousy conversation. I stand up. No more talking. It's time to
make her mine. "Show me a man that doesn't eat his woman's pussy," an
older GI in the barracks had said, the sound of wisdom in his voice,
"and I'll take that man's woman away from him." Hurriedly, I pull off my
clothes as Keiko watches, wide eyed.   

She doesn't resist as I put my hands on her shoulders and push her onto
her back. I flop up her dress. With both hands I grab the hem of her
panties; she raises her legs to help me; I yank them off and drop them
on the tatami. The pink slit in the black bush peeks at me; I have to
make her mine. I don't want her to go with other guys.   

I plunge my head down and take a lick. Keiko spreads her thighs. God, I
thought she was mad at me, but look at her. Damn. I'm still angry at her
for not wanting to quit the Sunflower. I stab my tongue through the
thicket; it tastes okay, definitely doesn't taste like fish; actually,
it tastes good. I lick her, up-and-down strokes in the upper ledges of
the crevice, up to the top of the bush then all the way down until I
can't lick further. Her fingers are in my hair. Maybe I shouldn't make
her my woman? I pull my head from her pussy and climb up, between her
legs and insert my cock into her.   

"You careful my dress," she complains.   

I'm less than fully hard; keeping it in her is a chore. Damn. I remember
the talk in the barracks about not being able to maintain a hard-on when
you're drinking, but I wasn't drinking. I can't understand it. Keiko
isn't being very responsive, either, except for spreading her legs nice
and wide. All she's doing is letting me mine my claim. I want more than
duty from her. I was hoping that fucking her this way, with her skirt up
over her hips, reminding me of Alma, would excite me, but it hasn't. I
roll off of her and sit at the edge of the bed.   

Keiko sits up; then she quickly stands. For a moment she looks at me;
she presses her skirt down with her hands. "I go bath house," she says.
I don't answer.    

"You want come?" she says in that quiet out-of-the-bar voice that she
uses when she's feeling tender.   

"No. No I don't," I say, forcefully. I'm not going to embarrass myself
bathing with a bunch of Japanese. I've heard about the bathhouses, but
I'm not interested in exposing myself to strangers.   

Mostly, I'm feeling negative about Keiko's rejection. Yet, she's not
acting as if she's rejecting me. It's the only kind of work she probably
knows how to do. Why should she devote her life to me? I'm not even sure
why I've selected her instead of some other woman. I don't have to work
to get a nice looking girl to fuck me; all the pussy I want is
available. Why should I restrict myself to one woman? Maybe that's my
problem; I want a steady relationship with one faithful woman but, at
the same time, I really want to screw every woman I see. I don't know
what the hell I want; if that's the case, I'm doing the wrong thing,
asking Keiko to be my girl.   

At my negative response, Keiko hurries out of the room leaving me
sitting there, still naked, chin in my hands, elbows on my knees. Keiko
didn't seem particularly enthused about our impending arrangement, but
she left some of her stuff so I know that she intends to come back; she
isn't running out on me. But, in these recent moments, I've made up my
mind that she's not the girl for me.   

There's no warmth in this affair with Keiko. All she wants from me, it
seems, are drinks, cigarettes, and money. I want love and sex and
someone that cares about me full-time. All Keiko does for me is spread
her legs. Once, I thought that was all I needed. There has to be
something better than this, even if I'm not sure what it is. I get up
and put on my clothes. I put a 5000 yen note on the night stand. I grab
my AWOL bag.   

***    

The small, dark, dive-like tavern is called the Hangar Bar. There are
only five girls in the place and not one of them is good looking. The
music is mostly country, lots of Elvis and songs like Fraulein, I'm in
the Jailhouse Now, and Geisha Girl. Jesus, it sounds good I say to
myself as I slug down VO and waters like mad. I've been in Japan just
three months, but it feels like three years. Jesus, I'm lonely, I think
as I stare down through the amber liquid at the brown wooden bar.   

"Buy me drink?"   

*** 

I wake up, humping my hips at the sheets, my face in a warm hairy pussy,
licking away like it is good stuff. It's total debauchery and I love it.
At last, I know what sex is: low living, guilt, pussy juices on my lips.
This is paradise.    

It's a girl from the Hangar Bar. Not really a girl, she's easily over
thirty. She didn't look like much dressed, I can barely recall; in fact,
she is plain. But, even plain, she does have that exotic look that all
Asian women have; naked, a full body, fair smooth skin, a delectable
Rising Sun Flower.   

She grips my head with both of her hands while I happily lap away. Her
pussy is delicious and I am ravenous. Never, have I ever experienced
anything like this, my own submissiveness, giving myself, bowing down to
her female core, being held there, loving her with my tongue. I don't
care how long I have been licking, I know that it is all that I have
dreamed eating pussy would be and it is all that I want to ever do. I
don't even know her name and here I am, probing her most intimate part
with my tongue, making her feel good, I can tell, because she's
squeezing my ears with her thighs and has hold of me by the back of my
head, cramming my face into her cunt.  

"Use me," I mentally order, "make me do dirty things!"    

She's talking but I cannot decipher her babble. In the bar, I recall,
dimly, she could barely speak English. I find that amusing and it makes
me giggle. Heh-heh. That makes what I'm doing even better. We don't need
words. Heh-heh. Tongue and cunt is our way. Sucking her juices down my
throat, like sustenance, a desert traveler at a Sahara oasis, I drink
her. Total depravity. Give me more. I love it. More. More. Heh-heh. I am
a pervert; this is what I will do for the rest of my life; every woman I
have sex with, I will eat her pussy; I will totally debase myself. It's
my just dessert. Maybe she will piss a hot yellow stream into my mouth;
I will drink it with gusto.   

*** 

The sun is peeking in the hotel window and I am still eating the Hangar
Bar woman. Loud slurps, mumbling hunger noises of a starving man.
Pulling out my head, I catch my breath. Asia is in front of me, thick
womanly thighs spread wide, nipples rising and falling, arms out at her
sides. I have tended my garden well. This is true love. Onto my hands
and knees I go, up to take a closer look at her plain face. She opens
her eyes and smiles.    

"You want some coffee," I say to Asia.,    

"Koh-hee?" Asia understands coffee.     

"Yes," I murmur, nodding my head up and down in affirmation of our
communion. I sit back on my haunches. She rolls her womanliness off of
the bed.   
    
*** 
  
"Kimiko," she replies to my query. There's a barely perceptible smile on
her face as if she knows something that I don't know.    

Maybe being a bar girl isn't so bad, as long as someone like me comes
along and gives a bar girl a good licking. It was only coincidence that
I'd staggered into the Hangar Bar and she was there, ready to be an
object of my yearning. I am a source of her income, but last night it
was more than that. An aging bar girl and a young GI; last night is an
experience that we share; it is forever. Last night, I needed love;
during our few hours together, I really loved her.    

One last moment.  I look into her eyes and she smiles again. Kimiko.
Just a name, that's all. I empty my coffee cup and stand; I take her
hand and squeeze it; then I leave her sitting alone at a table in
Wimpy's Place.    

Just past 8am, with an empty blue AWOL bag in my hand, I stroll through
the Main Gate.  


(c) 1998-1999 by R.A. Mendoza


This story is an excerpt from Sunflower Alley.
The entire Sunflower Alley series may be found at:
http://www.bigfoot.com/~R_A_M

Some stories. Some almost true. Boring if you don't like my thoughts.
But, what the hell, it's my page, I can do (almost) anything I want.
Stories, nostalgia, about GIs, their life, their women, in the Cold War 
Era, c.1955. From East LA to Japan. The way it was, way back then.
Maybe these tidbits, these spicy morsels, will jostle your mind. 
Maybe they'll give you some joy, I hope. 
                                          RAM

  From the Corner of 1st & Rowan to Sunflower Alley
  http://www.bigfoot.com/~R_A_M 

-----------------------

  From Celestial Reviews 317 - February 28, 1999

"I'm never really sure how far afield I should go when I look for 
stories to review. I suppose if I can't even keep up with the stories 
that are posted on a.s.s. and a.s.s.m. I shouldn't waste my time 
tra[i]psing all over the place looking for even more stories. But this
excursion wasn't a waste of time. One of Mendoza's lead-ins caught my
attention, and his home page roped me in. This is good stuff. It 
doesn't run as a continuous story, but the deliberately disjointed
presentation is highly effective." 

"I encourage you to take a look"  

Ratings for "Sunflower Alley" 
Athena (technical quality): 10
Venus (plot & character): 9
Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 

Celestial Reviews 317 - February 28, 1999 

-----------------------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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