A Most Erotic Tea Ceremony

The toroko is, for the lack of a better translation, a high class bath house which cleans, massages relaxes the entire body and I do mean each and every important muscle. This is not the type of massage parlor that you find in American cities, nor is it a “whore house.” I have always maintained that entered into with the proper attitude with a simpatico hostess it becomes almost a spiritual experience. An experience I looked partook of two to four times each month for over ten years.

I discovered my favorite toroko when I was taken as a guest by a local businessman that I assisted in getting a U.S. government contract on Kadena Air Base. The toroko sits on the side of a small mountain overlooking the East China Sea on the Japanese island of Okinawa. It was a beautiful setting, gardens and a traditional style building, and upon entering we were welcomed by the mamasan, removed our shoes and replaced them with plastic bath slippers. We then proceeded into the bar area which was decorated much like a small English pub with both a bar and also a few living area type settings with smooth jazz quietly playing on the record player. This created a very relaxed atmosphere and removed us from the stresses of our daily lives.

While enjoying our drinks, mine Orion beer, my friend Johnny Walker Black, we were introduced to a half dozen beautiful young ladies that poured our drinks, fed us finger foods, and flirted. Each was dressed in a happi coat (These are usually decorated in bright, bold colors and have the name of the establishment on them. They are the style frequently worn by sushi chefs in America) with bare legs. There was no sense of urgency and we could have sat there for hours, but after just forty minutes, I was totally smitten with Mariko. She was just twenty years old and in her second school at Ryukyu University hoping to become a nurse. It seems that many of the girls working at torokos are college students earning their tuition and living expenses. Since English is the world’s medical language, Mariko was studying it, and we had fun laughing and flirting between her broken English and my poor Japanese.

Once I indicated that I was finished drinking, Mariko gently pulled up by the hand, bowed good-bye to my friend, and led me down the hall to our private room. The room itself was quite nicely done. It was on two levels, the upper which had a carpeted floor, low massage table, and a wall locker. I could see the lower section had a tile floor with a drain in the center, a steam cabinet, and a bath tub. This being my first visit, I didn’t know what was the correct thing to do so I just stood there. It turned out that that was exactly right. Mariko had me step out of my slippers and then she calmly unbuttoned my shirt and hung it in the locker. The feel of her fingertips gently touching my shoulders and arms sent shock ways through my body. She then kneeled down and unbuckled my belt and removed my trousers. I felt a somewhat awkward since my dick was at this point not nearly as calm and cool as she was. I wasn’t quite fully erect to my 7” length yet but I was growing a nice chubby. After folding and hanging up my pants she came back and once again assumed the kneeling position. She placed my hands on her shoulders so I could balance while she removed my socks and then she put her hands on the elastic of my shorts and started slowly pulling them down. I learned later that she had never seen an American cock before and didn’t realize how much bigger they are than the average Japanese dick. Once it cleared the elastic band that was holding it down, it sprung up and bounced off the tip of her nose. Mariko let out a giggle of surprise covering her mouth with both hands and I have to say I thought her little slant eyes turned almost completely round.

After folding my socks and shorts and putting them away, she took me by the hand and led me to the white steam cabinet. She sat me down, closed the cabinet door, and set the temperature to baste.