For Scott, the conversation took a sudden, and totally unexpected, turn. Flabbergasted at Scott’s previous comment that he liked the idea of having a boyfriend but he wasn’t sure if he would like having sex with a guy, George’s lips curled up in a grimace, and asked incredulously, “What? You’ve never fucked around with a guy?”

Scott broke eye contact and stared down at the tatami mats covering the floor of George’s apartment. His face flushed crimson with embarrassment. These weren’t the typical questions he fielded after a day of working at the office and then a drinking party at a co-worker’s apartment. Well, “drinking party” was hardly what this was now; all the other co-workers had already left. Now only Scott remained at George’s flat.

George continued, stating, “You should; it’s a lot of fun.”

Scott’s eyes raised out and he looked back to George. “You’ve fucked a guy?” Scott asked, almost in a whisper, the intonation of disbelief trailing in the air.

George retorted boisterously, “Yeah. I used to screw my college roommate. He was a real slut too: no inhibitions. One time I fucked him raw in the ass and then made him blow me to a nice volcanic completion. He swallowed it all.”

Scott’s eyes raised even further open; his mouth dropped agape. He couldn’t believe it. The guy who worked next to him for so many years, married for five years and seemingly content, used to bareback his roommate.

Scott’s mumbled out a “so…,” shaking his head slightly back and forth. After a few seconds of vowel elongation, Scott mustered up the courage to ask, “What made you switch?”

George’s eyes drew to slits; an incredulously grimace erupted on his face. “What do you mean? Girls and guys blow and take it in the ass just the same; there’s no difference. I like’em both. I don’t like to blow a guy or eat a bitch out, but I sure love fuckin’em. Ass sex is the best,” George blurted, ending with a waving hand motion in the air that came to a sudden stop at the end of his utterance.

Scott tilted his head askew, and inquired, “Soo…you still…you know...” letting his question trail off into the oblivion of hopeful silence, a smile slowly forming on his lips.

George’s lips cracked into a smile; his white polished teeth gleamed. After a few seconds of mutual smirks, George stated, “Let me be clear. I’m not actually gay. I don’t blow. But I do love to get blown: guy or girl doesn’t matter. And I love raunchy butt sex…when I’m the one doing the fucking.”

Scott nodded his head in cadence with George’s confession, bobbing his head up and down after every utterance. After George finished, Scott leaned slightly forward on his knees, and said, “No…that’s not exactly…”

George interrupted Scott, interjecting, “You just need to ask Scott.” George stared into Scott’s eyes, a capricious grim smacked on his face, enjoying Scott’s roundabout way of getting to his point: very Japanese in that way, in fact.

Scott’s voice trembled with trepidation, and quickly mumbled, almost too fast to hear, “Could I suck your dick?”

“Yeah. I’d like that,” George interjected as soon as Scott ejected the last sound.

A few seconds of silence enveloped George’s small studio apartment in Tokyo. A municipal train screeched by beneath the building, vibrating the windows jarringly, before it disappeared into a dark tunnel. George smiled at Scott, 15 years his junior, and then commanded, a strident tone in