Chapter Five: Surrender

Revised November 13, 2006.
Note: Please read the previous chapters first; the story makes more sense that way.

Even though she had always been true to her own desires, it took a while for the ever-analytical Melina to adjust to the situation. It had all happened so fast: meeting Shinichi on the train, realizing her growing attraction to him as they drank and talked and played cards. And when he finally confessed to his initial attraction to her in Osaka, and admitted to calling her office in an attempt to locate her, she had felt as if he’d presented her with an expensive, perfectly wrapped gift.

When she moved from the back to the passenger seat of his black sedan, he had reached around her with the seat belt to assist her. Melina had caught herself half-wishing he would try to kiss her, as unlike him as the action would have been. And by the time they finished their tea, her attraction to him had increased to the point where she had decided to offer him an opportunity. The porch would be the ideal place: unlike the sofa, he wouldn’t be tempted to try too much too soon.

She had surprised herself by not only responding to Shinichi’s touch, but also realizing that she was willing to give herself to him just minutes after the first kiss on the porch. The chemistry was as powerful as if he had drugged her tea: she imagined him standing in the kitchen, her teacup in one hand and a small vial in the other, as he carefully added a single drop of a rare and expensive philter.

And although she had felt a certain amount of shyness as he undressed her – it had been almost two years since she’d last been with a man - she had also felt a new, deep sense of arousal. She had only had two previous lovers, and now they seemed hopelessly clumsy in comparision to Shinichi.

Now, all she could think of was how Shinichi felt inside her, huge and hard. He held her legs against him, his arms immobilizing them, while her half-buttoned blouse trapped her arms at her sides. His dominant approach touched a new and erotic nerve in her. For the first time, she could feel her wetness increasing by the minute. It was though Shinichi's total control of Melina's body had objectified it. This had freed her mind to concentrate solely on how it felt to be properly, thoroughly fucked. She whimpered softly underneath him, dug her nails into the soft leather.

Shinichi seemed to sense that her initial shyness had disappeared along, with his own fear of offending her. Now he felt in command and responsible for her pleasure, combined with his right to enjoy her pale body exactly as he wished.

He unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her arms. In a single, graceful movement, he moved himself underneath her so that she straddled him. Her hair hung like a curtain over him. He took her breast into his mouth, tasting her. She pulled off her blouse. All that was left was the black slip, which was now bunched around her hips.

She sat up, leaned back with her hands on his thighs as she pushed herself down, taking him as deeply as she could. She rode him for several minutes, her head back and back arched. Shinichi could see the outline of her breasts, perfectly silhouetted in the dim light.

He realized he would not be truly satisfied until he watched her come. He pulled her close and carefully reached for her with his thumb, rubbing gently until he could feel her tender clit swell and then harden. Suddenly he felt her relax inside, then clench him as she dug her fingernails into his arms, pushing him into her even deeper. He heard her softly cry out. She leaned forward as her orgasm continued, her forehead on his shoulder.

Shinichi returned her to her back and held her by her ankles, spreading her wide apart. He began plunging into her like an animal, thinking of nothing but his right to a man’s exclusive pleasures.

He felt himself grow even harder as she arched her back to meet him, his orgasm just seconds away. Suddenly he jerked himself out of her, marking her belly and breasts until she was half-covered with his seishi.

Looking down at his signature, he dipped one finger into the thick white liquid and put it into her mouth. She gently sucked his finger clean. He retrieved it, dipped two fingers into her filled navel, presented them to her.

Shinichi spent the next few minutes tracing sticky paths on her belly and breasts, occasionally offering his fingers to her. Finally he kissed her and wrapped her in his discarded shirt before going to fetch a blanket for her.

As he pulled his trousers on, he looked at Melina lying on the sofa, his white dress shirt sticking to her damp body. Again, he could not believe his good fortune.

Twilight Express, Chapter Four: The Moon Watching Platform

Revised from the original December 12, 2006.

Shinichi felt as if he was in charge of transporting a rare and fragile antique. As usual, when he visited his country home, his car and driver waited for him just outside the station. He exchanged seats with his driver, took him home.

He felt odd driving with his new acquaintance in the back seat like a taxi fare. Thankfully she agreed with him and moved to the front seat. He watched her carefully swing both legs inside, knees together like a visiting princess. He helped her with the seat belt which had become stuck behind the seat from lack of use.

She was quiet during the journey to his house. Her silence worried Shinichi. Was she already regretting her decision? Finally they arrived at the short gravel path that led to his house.

Carrying her suitcase, he unlocked the door, opened it for her.

He watched her walk slowly around the living room, stopping to study the framed blueprint of the home. When planning the house, Shinichi had carefully utilized a certain amount of space to each room according to its function. The guest bedroom was almost as big as his own bedroom, as he knew he would only invite his closest friends. The kitchen was small as he rarely cooked for himself. The bathroom was luxurious and large, with a deep marble bath for prolonged soaks.

The bath and sofa had been the two largest expenditures, as he had ordered the sofa to be unusually large. It was a plain, L-shaped sofa, but the seating area was slightly wider than a single bed and the sofa's remaining dimensions were larger than average. Shinichi had figured that since he often fell asleep on the sofa, he might as well have one that could double as a bed, and the width also made ottomans unnecessary.

Shinichi gathered up the tea service and took it to the kitchen. He returned to the living room to see that Melina was gone. He felt a sudden panic. Had she decided to leave? He checked the front door and saw her shoes parked next to his, her black Tumi suitcase stil there.

He found her outside the sliding doors of the living room, standing on the back porch. A full moon illuminated the area. She smiled at him. “Is this what you call tsukimi, sir? Moon viewing? And is this the harvest moon – chushu-no-meigetsu?”

She looked a little mischievous. “I understood that the first moon-viewing party was held in the year 909, when Kyoto was the capital of Japan.”

Shinichi bowed deeply to her. “I bow to your superior knowledge, Melina-sama.” After joining her in the bar car, he had completely forgotten why he had decided to take three days off to work at home: it was because of the harvest moon.

She leaned back on the railing, her auburn hair framed by moonlight. She had removed her hosiery and stood barefoot on the smooth wood. Shinichi imagined her as having just landed on the porch a minute before, magically delivered by some unseen, kindly god in response to a prayer often repeated.

He joined her at the railing, explained that the season was why he'd initially made the decision to visit his country home mid-week. "How do you plan to celebrate?", she asked. "I understand it's traditional to write waka poetry." "I'm afraid I'm not much of a poet," he admitted. Then he added quietly, "I cannot think of any better celebration than your accepting my invitation. Thank you."

His words had the effect he'd hoped for. She looked up at him with wide eyes, looking for the right response but not finding the words. He reached out and stroked her hair.

Suddenly the events of the last weeks flooded his mind: his first sight of Melina weeks ago, her disappearance, his failed search, his initial disbelief when meeting her on the train. He moved in closer, took her face in both hands and kissed her gently. He felt her hesitate for a few seconds, then she began to kiss him back, tilting her head slightly and standing on her tiptoes. He felt a sudden warmth course through his body as he pulled her close.

They stood on the porch for several minutes, eventually leaning against a vertical rail to keep their balance. Melina unbuttoned the top three buttons on his shirt, sliding her hands across his shoulders and down his upper arms, tracing the muscles with her fingers. She put her face gently on his chest, then slid her mouth across it: a primal gesture that said volumes.

Shinichi could wait no longer. He led her to the leather sofa, sat down next to her. He felt as clumsy and desperate as a schoolboy as he unbuttoned the top buttons on her blouse, exposing her shoulders. She wore a saint's medal on a fine silver necklace - a saint he didn't recognize. He leaned over her, caressing her neck, then pushing the blouse down and over her upper arms to expose the plain black slip underneath. He slid the shoulder straps down a couple of inches, ran his lips down her neck and slightly further down.

He could feel her pulse racing. He pushed the slip down further and gently touched her pink nipples with his fingers, watching them as they responded to his touch.

She seemed to be torn between shyness and desire, as she kept averting her eyes from him while her breathing quickened. He caressed her for several minutes, touching and licking each nipple, feeling as if he were drowning. He carefully arranged several pillows behind her before slowly lowering her to them. Her half-unbuttoned blouse's sleeves held her arms at her sides while the slip pushed her breasts up and forward, but she made no attempt to remove them.

He carefully removed her wispy lace panties, then ran his hands over her thighs, gradually working his way between them until she finally relaxed enough to let him slide both hands between them. Shinichi felt his rainbow blood flowing in and out of his heart. He still felt disbelief that the same mysterious woman who had been lost to him was now giving herself to him, offering him the control he had fantasized.

He slid two fingers upwards and against her, her warm wetness like petals. He traced slightly upwards and rubbed her slowly, gradually increasing the pressure until she began to cry out quietly and her body arched to meet him. Kirei dayo, he whispered.

He wanted to penetrate her as slowly and thoroughly as possible. Slowly he positioned himself between her thighs and began to enter her, whispering still, please, holding her hips. She was tight as a virgin and he found it almost impossible to control himself. Shinichi gently spread her legs even further apart and upwards, eventually pinning them under his arms. Finally he was completely inside her.

He leaned over her and slowly began moving inside her, savoring her wetness and warmth, watching as she dug her nails into the sofa's leather. Her arms were still trapped by her sides by her half-buttoned blouse but she made no move to free herself. He kissed her neck, her mouth. Finally she opened her eyes, buried her face in his shoulder. He could feel her tongue on his skin as she gently licked the sweat from his collarbone.

Melina looked up at him with wet eyes, whispered his name. A single tear slid sideways and disappeared into her hair. Her surrender to him was complete.

Twilight Express, Chapter Three: The Salon Car

Revised Nov. 30, 2006

Melina felt the tall man’s eyes upon her from the next table and wondered why he didn’t pursue a newspaper or manga like any other salaryman. She stared at her newspaper, stymied by the sudden attention but not wanting to return to her tiny sleeper.

He finally spoke. “I’m sorry to stare, but I’m sure I’ve seen you before.”

He explained that he had seen her at a cocktail party in Osaka several weeks ago, but had not been introduced to her. She relaxed, thankful he was not some well-dressed madman. He offered to buy her a drink. She paused and finally suggested he order for them. He ordered two single malts. She invited him to join her at her table.

Melina studied him carefully as they drank. He was about 5'10" tall, tanned, probably from the north island. He was wearing an expensive suit, not one of the cheap and shiny suits she saw so often. His name was Shinichi Sakakura. She guessed him to be in his mid to late 50s. His scrubbed, rough hands and wide shoulders suggested he had spent a portion of his life doing manual work: something in his favor. Having been raised by working-class parents, Melina did not care for pampered young executives with baby-soft hands.

During the next hour and a half, she learned that he was an architect with an office in Osaka. He was no stranger to the sleeper train, as he often took it to his country home, preferring the traditional luxury of the Twilight Express to the bullet train service. He had spent 18 months studying architecture in England. He had friendly eyes that crinkled slightly when he smiled. His English was remarkably good, although they switched from Japanese to English or vice-versa, depending on the topic of conversation.

They eventually moved to the restaurant car. Shinichi learned that Melina was from Boston, an only child of Irish working-class parents. One of her teachers had identified her facility for foreign language after hearing the eight-year old Melina chatting to a new student from Hong Kong in near-perfect Cantonese. Later, she had been awarded a full scholarship to study Asian languages.

After their dinner plates were taken away, Melina asked if he would like to play cards. Shinichi was surprised and impressed when she quickly produced a pack of cards from her Prada handbag and began shuffling like a casino dealer. He found himself losing a near-embarrassing amount of money to the canny gaijin during the first 20 minutes they played. He began to worry that he might be forced to write her a check if his luck didn't change.

Shinichi kept watching her as she dealt the cards and studied her hands. He was no less intrigued by Melina than when he'd first seen her. She was intelligent and polite, with a dry sense of humor that reminded him of his time in England. She didn't rattle on about herself for hours on end. And her physical presence encouraged his month-long fantasy of seduction. He kept sneaking glances at her delicate mouth and white skin. Gradually he realized that he was literally aching to touch her.

He began thinking of possible ways to invite her to his home instead of continuing to Sapporo, where she would probably disappear once again, this time for good. He would offer her the use of his spare bedroom and a tour of the countryside the next day. But how could he make such a suggestion when he was sure his desire would be transparent to her? While she had been increasingly friendly to him during the card game, she had not flirted with him at all.

The train passed a small clearing and he realized his stop was only 20 minutes away. He fell silent, played his next hand badly, began shuffling the deck mindlessly. Finally Melina asked if she had somehow offended him.

Suddenly he was compelled to tell the truth. “When I first saw you, I couldn’t stop looking at you,” he said. He explained his wish to be introduced to her, his disappointment when she suddenly departed the cocktail party. He was quiet again for a minute. She looked at him unafraid, curious, waiting for him to speak again, her head slightly tilted to one side.

“I know this is a great risk, and I beg you not be offended, but I would like to ask you to be my guest at my house tonight,” he said. He stumbled on, mentioning the spare room, offering to take her sightseeing in his car, promising to take her straight to Sapporo any time of the day or night if she wished.

Suddenly she stopped him.

“I accept your invitation. Thank you very much. It’s very generous.”

Twilight Express, Chapter Two: Shinichi

Last edit: 11/12/2006

He looked at his watch. Shinichi’s station was just over two hours away, but he was determined to not fall victim to the national pastime: karoshi, death from overwork. He decided to have a drink. He turned off his laptop, gathered up his overcoat and briefcase, and made his way through the narrow corridor past the sleeper cars. Since the tourist season was over and it was mid-week, all but one of the sleepers were unoccupied.

When he arrived at the salon car, Shinichi could not believe his luck.

At first he found it hard to believe that it was the same woman he'd first seen a month ago. She was dressed in a knee-length skirt and silk blouse, with her dark red hair loose around her shoulders. But she looked up at him from the half-circular booth, and her unmistakable green eyes confirmed her identity. She half-rose, bowed slightly and sat down again, tucking her pleated skirt under her thighs carefully. He sat down at the next booth, slowly exhaled, watched her turn the pages of her newspaper as if she were searching for something.

Shinichi had first seen the redhaired gaijin several weeks ago at a cocktail party in Osaka. The party had been held in the hotel next to his office building. His banker friend Hitoshi had invited him earlier in the day during their weekly lunch.

He had watched her from across the room as she politely listened to others, bowing correctly when introduced, presenting her business card when necessary. It was soon obvious that although she was younger than most expatriates, she was remarkably well-versed in local business etiquette. She never made the usual foreigners' mistakes like laughing loudly or bowing improperly.

The woman wore a dark blue business suit, low black heels and a high-necked white blouse. Shinichi guessed her to be in her late 20s. She wore no jewelry except pearl earrings and a tortoise-shell clip in her long hair.

As he studied her, he realized that she was not a conventional beauty. Her mouth, although delicate and curved, was not quite even; the lower lip being fuller than the upper one. She was fashionably thin but unfashionably pale. Her auburn hair was wavy and thick, and she had only partially succeeded in taming it into a loose French twist. But it didn’t matter, didn’t matter to him at all.

He began wondering how he might be introduced to her. Suddenly she looked directly at him, as if she had literally felt his gaze lingering upon her. Her clear green eyes studied him for several seconds before she returned to her conversation.

Suddenly Shinichi was determined to be introduced to her. He began to think of an excuse that wouldn’t sound ridiculous, only half-listening to Hitoshi’s business chat. But then another colleague joined them, and it took Shinichi several minutes to escape.

Still trying to think of a businesslike lie that would result in an introduction, he looked up, searching for her red hair in the crowd. She was gone.

Shinichi excused himself, walked quickly to the front door, looked around the plaza. The usual rush hour crowd of office workers and shoppers milled in front of him. He stood still, staring at the crowds, angry at himself for losing her. Then he returned inside.

The next day, he found himself at his drafting board, unable to concentrate on work. Instead he kept staring out of the window at the sidewalk below, half-hoping he would spot her among the pedestrians. Finally he closed the blinds.

During the next weeks, Shinichi kept telling himself that his attraction for the woman was nothing more than curiosity. He had never been intimate with a foreigner, and had never felt a particular desire for one. But he continued to think of ways to find, or at least identify, the redhaired woman while working at his drafting board or sitting through another meeting. Certainly he could think of a good reason to visit her office since Hitoshi’s company was responsible for her presence.

Late at night, he sometimes found himself fantasizing about seducing the young gaijin. He imagined removing her dark blue jacket, slowly unbuttoning her white cotton blouse, looking down into her green eyes before he kissed her.

Finally Shinichi decided to call Hitoshi's company and try to convince the receptionist to put him through to the foreigner, thinking he could waffle through any preliminary interrogation. But a new receptionist politely told him that there were no foreigners currently working in the Osaka office. He put the phone down slowly, feeling despondent.

Shinichi knew that the only way he might locate the woman was to ask Hitoshi about her. While he knew Hitoshi would not condemn him - after all, Hitoshi would certainly have been instrumental in hiring a foreigner - he would certainly realize that Shinichi's interest in her could not be described as professional. So Shinichi kept postponing his enquiry, not wishing to embarrass his friend.

He need not have worried. Three weeks later, he entered the bar car of the Twilight Express and found her waiting for him.

Twilight Express, Chapter One: Melina

As with all chapters of any story here, please feel free to leave comments, anonymous or not.

The sleeper train from Osaka to Sapporo pulled out of Kanazawa station. Melina returned to her newspaper, content that nobody had boarded; she was enjoying the solitude of the salon car.

It had been her idea to take the night sleeper to Sapporo. The Osaka office manager had tried to talk her out of it, explaining that the bullet train would get her there much faster while the sleeper would take 21 hours. But Melina insisted, explaining that she would like to see more of Japan, which was true, and begging the office manager to excuse her eccentricity.

During her nine months in Japan, she had spent almost all of her time in one high-rise or another. And the sleeper trains’ names themselves appealed to her in a kitchy way: Cassiopeia. Sunrise Seto. Moonlight Nagara. Dream Nichirin. She was aboard the Twilight Express.

Melina was traveling to Sapporo to set up her company’s third new research department. The only woman in the Boston office, she had hardly been able to believe her luck when she was chosen for the two-year assignment. Although she was the only researcher fluent in Japanese, she was also one of the youngest, not quite 29 years old.

But the reviews were even better than she had hoped, especially after she finished her first config in Tokyo a month ahead of schedule. The locals admired her respect for Japanese culture and business etiquette. She wasn't like other foreigners who seemed appalled that the entire world didn't speak English.

After nine months in Tokyo and Osaka, she was headed north to the Sapporo office for what she was hoping would be an easier setup. Her assistant, Yoko, was already there and was setting up the computer servers.

Melina picked up her newspaper again, hoping to find a sudoku puzzle or even a New York Times crossword. But suddenly she had company. She looked up at the man, nodded politely, went back to her newspaper.