a remote spot of the island.

When we entered the shadows of the small enclosure between the outer and inner gates, Pete pushed me up against a crumbling, gray stone wall and placed strong hands on the wall on either side of me.

"I have a confession to make," he told me in a low, husky voice.

"Oh?" was all I could manage. I was breathless with anticipation. That night in the jet cockpit had been the best sex I'd had during my Okinawa tour. I was his for the asking.

"The tour wasn't really rescheduled. I saw your name on the roster, and I wanted to give you a private tour," he said, brushing his hand against the side of my face. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," I answered in a hoarse voice.

"May I kiss you?" He asked

I assented with a nod and by turning my head to him, and he kissed me deeply and tenderly.

"I haven't thought of anything but you since that night," he said when we'd come up for air. "May I fuck you again?"

My answer was a foregone conclusion. I'd already acknowledged to myself that I was his for the asking, and he'd asked me politely, which hadn't always been the case with my lusty partners. I did, however, make him give me at least a perfunctory tour of the castle first, as my interest in that was genuine, as was the expertise of his tour guiding.

What was most striking in the comparison of Western castles and those of ancient Okinawa was the fundamental difference in their plans. The stonework, towers, and battlements were all quite similar, but whereas a Western castle tended to be fortified from the edges in, with the most precious holdings located at the center, the Okinawan castle invariably was built against a precipice, as this one was, with the holy of holies being a sacred grove and ruling family altar at the rear of the castle, hanging on at the top of the cliff.

After a brief tour of the outer works of the castle, Pete guided me back to the sacred grove, which was just that, a grove of pine trees at the very back of the castle walls on a small apron of land suspended over the boiling surf at the foot of the cliff. Here there was a grassy area in the middle of the grove of trees and a stone altar—the center of the ancestor worship for the family that once had ruled the castle and the surrounding fields and had acted as the sentinel for invasion from China to the west or the Japanese islands to the north.

Pete laid out a khaki army blanket on the ground in front of the altar, and after pulling me to him in a standing position and fondling and kissing me into a lustful mood, he undressed me, pushed me down on all fours, prepared my asshole with his tongue and saliva, and covered with his body and fucked me to paradise. As he pumped me, I listened to the roaring surf at the base of the cliff and the wind sighing in the pine trees, and I added my own sighs and moans of ecstasy to the sounds of nature.

When we both had cum, Pete pulled me over on my side within his arms and we both merged with the wild beauty of