I imitated a bunch of poses I saw models do in fashion magazines. The idol DVDs I watched to prep for my event at the school festival also came in pretty handy.
I turned elegantly like a runway model, bouncing my butt and boobs before posing.
“Ohh... Good, that’s good.”
I turned my back to him, put my hands on my butt, looked over my shoulder and winked.
“Muselungel!”
I’m pretty sure he liked that. He started saying even weirder things and thrusting his hips with his instrument clamped between his thighs.
This is another world. I’ve stepped into another world of sex.
“Ahh, I can’t... I’m Muselu, too!”
The bard finally took his cock out and started rubbing it against his instrument—despite the female form right in front of him.
Though I wondered what the hell I was doing, I even bent over and revealed my asshole to him.
“There it is! The Grand Muselussobeu! Fantastic! You’re a goddess of revolution from the realm beyond the senses!”
Actually, I’m a high-schooler from Tokyo, but okay.
Now I really had no idea what he was talking about. He writhed, toes pointing and twitching.
Then he pressed his weird guitar thing into my hands.
“Your natural inspiration and audacious flesh are so lovely. Here, take this and serenade me. Go wherever your senses take you. Let me hear your fingertips sing!”
This thing is basically a guitar, right?
My boyfriend before my last boyfriend was in a shitty band, and I had wanted to sing Kane Nishioka’s “Toritetsu,” so I learned just that one song and could play a little guitar.
D, A, G, and B Minor? I only know those four, but it’s something.
Anyhow, it was the customer’s request, and I happened to have a bone on my table from the dried meat I had for lunch courtesy of Sumo, so I grabbed that as a pick and decided to give it a shot. I strummed.
“What is that innovative playing style? It’s like a round-trip slap from a goddess!” He flipped and flopped like a piece squid on the grill. “You’re plucking all the strings at once with a bone? But those beautifully layered sounds are like lightning striking a snow field! What is this? It’s so novel my brain can’t keep up! But it really gets me in the groin!”
What’s so novel that my brain can’t keep up is your fetish, but okay.
Can I keep playing? Can I sing a song I like for the first time in forever?
“I’m gonna go take a pic of the 7:52 DeHa 1000 ♪”
“Oh, you don’t have to sing. I don’t need your voice. Just give me more of that sound.”
Well excuse me for being so tone-deaf! Fuck!
But this was work, so I did as I was told and continued playing the “Toritetsu” chords in silence. The bard continued getting himself all worked up and finally started masturbating.
Even in a different world, there are still perverts. No matter what remote corner of the universe you go to, humans stay the same. That’s what I was thinking while I strummed his guitar, butt-naked.
Mom, Dad.
I’m doing my best.
“Oh no, I see it! The door to heaven! I’m gonna knock on it! Knock-knock!”
As the song was heading to its finish, the bard pointed his toes straight out.
“Huh? Wait a second, sir! You can’t yet!”
We get paid by the shot. A shot to the mouth or pussy. We’re not such lukewarm hookers that we take money just ’cause the guy jerks himself off.
“Move your hand! Please shoot it into my pussy!”
“Ahh, no! You must let me hear more of your angelic voice!”
“If you want to hear it, listen all you want. Just, when you shoot, do it inside me!”
I mounted the bard guy, got his cock into my lubed and luvya-grassed pussy, and strummed the guitar.
“Haaaaannnnngh!”
The bard rocked his body up and down like a bass drum pedal below me.
Then right as I ended the song—jaggajang—with a squeeze, he came inside me.
Phew, glad I made it in time.
＊
There was a little while before the shop would open, so I had an early dinner with Shequraso and Lupe.
A group of women eating out is shameful or whatever—this society is so stupidly closed-minded and misogynistic that we can’t have a proper girls-only hang-out—but we put a bench outside the shop, and it feels almost like a lunch break.
“You had that old bald customer yesterday, right Haru? Did he lick your entire body?”
“Yeah, his tongue was all over. So gross.”
“I really hate that guy, too. I always take an extra-long shower after him.”
“I mean, he even puts his tongue in your butt. That’s plain scary.”
“What? He never did that to me.”
“Me neither.”
“Huh? Really? Eww, just me?”
“What does that feel like, anyway?”
“Nooo, I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“C’mon Shequraso, tell us. How did it feel? How did it feel to have a man’s tongue up your butt?”
“Haru, don’t be nasty...”
“Save me, Lupe. I can say anything to Haru.”
Shequraso was nervous at first, but maybe because there wasn’t much foot traffic at that time of day, and we felt so liberated, she gradually got more talkative, dissing customers and complaining about issues at the shop.
Then things got supremely fun.
“This kind of thing is nice once in a while.”
Right? Every girl loves girl time.
Shequraso let her long, plentifully accessorized orange hair flutter in the wind and said, “The food is good, too,” with a cheerful grin.
Once the shop opens up she gives off this intense artist aura, but stretching her back under the blue sky, she looks like a regular college girl.