text: The sweat cooled on their bodies in the dark as they lay side by side. Osachi's rough hands stroked Jiro's massive chest, and she nibbled at the skin over his ribs.
  
  "What are you doing here? We see very few samurai."
  
  "I'm looking for a friend, kidnapped by yamabushi. Have you seen any such?"
  
  She laughed. "Many, of course. This is the season for their mountain pilgrimages. Some of them come through all the time, but particularly now. Why, there was a group that came here just two days ago. They would have stayed for the festival, but they were hurrying to their meeting at Mount Yoshino. They gather there every year for a pilgrimage. Usually they have women with them, but this time there were only two. I must say the boys were disappointed." She sniffed deprecatingly. "It's not as if they were deprived here. Why, I've had two boys a night crawl into my bedding... There's even one I'm going to wake up and scream for."
  
  "Wake up and scream for?" Jiro asked in puzzlement.
  
  "Of course! The one I'm going to marry." Osachi turned on her side and looked at him, then laughed. "Why, how does a city girl choose a husband then, eh? The boys here come and visit at night, and if you like him, you wake your father and then... But until then, we can have a little fun, no?"
  
  "Judging from how you perform, a lot of fun."
  
  She laughed in response and poked him in the ribs.
  
  "He'd probably get away though, wouldn't he?"
  
  "Mostly the father goes and arranges it with his father. But get away? From me? Ha! Goro will never get away from me."
  
  "How would you hold him?" Jiro teased.
  
  "With my legs, of course. Like this." Osachi swung herself onto his supine form. Her wet pussy smacked against his flaccid prick. She rubbed herself back and forth on his member. Her fingers stroked her tiny clitoris with each move and incidentally brought more pressure onto Jiro's manhood. Slowly the soft roll of flesh thickened and hardened. The slickness of the lips that bracketed the skin of his sensitive cock hardened his penis as few other things could. He raised his hands and lifted her in the air. His cock sprang free, and Jiro positioned her hungry opening over the tip, then let go. Gratefully she sank down, her nether mouth engulfing the thickness gratefully. He raised her again, then brought her down forcefully onto his body. She scratched his chest with strong fingers and grinned at him in the dark. She tried to rise and slide down his pole again, but he would have nothing of it. She struggled in his arms for a moment. He slipped his hands to her hips and started a rotating movement of her hips.
  
  "Like a suribachi," she giggled, and started grinding her hips on him.
  
  Jiro released his hold on her hips, and the girl ground herself into him, humming a song women used when grinding sesame into paste in a ribbed suribachi mortar. The young samurai laughed at her. His hands slid around her ass. One finger poised for a moment, then slid deeply into her anus. Osachi's tongue peeped out of the corner of her mouth, and her eyes closed. The twirling motion of her hips continued, and Jiro felt waves of pleasure engulfing him. The fingers of his other hand felt along the shaft of his cock. He nipped her slick lips, which were unusually long, between thumb and forefinger and strummed the sweet flaps of flesh. She shivered, and he increased the speed of his motions. His stiff finger probed unceasingly into the tight ring of her anus while he arched his back slightly.
  
  Osachi trembled and sighed slightly, and from the sudden rush of moisture, Jiro knew that she had come. He was not yet ready, and his fingers continued their dance in her ass and along her liquid lips. Her eyes opened, as did her mouth, and she looked down at him for a long moment. Her hips stopped their churning, and before Jiro could do anything, she had risen from his probing cock without a word. He started to scowl and pull her toward him, but she poised herself for a long delicious moment above his cock. The full, muscular half moons of her ass were parted by the erect column of his rampant prick. She pulled at his hand, and his finger popped out of her nether hole. She moved her hips forward and the tip of his male sword barely nudged the tight ring of her ass. She looked down at him fiercely.
  
  "Don't you dare move!" she whispered fiercely.
  
  She lowered herself gradually onto the waiting prick, her thighs ridged with muscular effort. She raised her head in pain as the fleshy sword parted her lubricated bottom. The size was almost too much for her. She bit her lip and forced herself downwards. The flanges of the cock head passed the constraining ring of muscle, and she felt the long, slick shaft make its way up her. She let herself down farther until she could feel the stiff hairs of his crotch scratching against her soft bottom.
  
  Osachi stopped, amazed at herself, at her temerity, her perversity, the very fact that there was a strong cock, full of lust, resting up her asshole. She looked down at the man beneath her, but for the moment he was as remote as the harigata of wood she used on herself when she was particularly randy and no lover had come by. She raised herself and felt the long column pull reluctantly out of her depths. Before the head could extract itself, she had plunged down again. She repeated the process, and as it became easier, so did the pleasure increase. The man beneath her reached for her empty cunt, but she pulled his hand aside. She held her cunt lips open with four fingers on either side. The longest finger of each hand dipped into the waiting sweet hole, and her thumbs squeezed her prominent clitoris. Sliding her hands over the inner recesses of her cunt and moving her ass up and down the male shaft that impaled her, she masturbated to a climax.
  
  Jiro lay beneath the girl and watched as she used their bodies. The tightness of her ass began reaching to him, and gradually, as she dreamily played with her cunt while riding his cock, he felt his own pleasure reach a climax. She shuddered on top of him, then again. Small climaxes grew on top of one another until her body was shivering in a continuous Saint Vitus' dance. Mewling sounds came from her throat. Jiro noted all this through a haze. Pinned by her thighs he felt helpless, unable to employ his massive strength. At last the tightness of her anus was too much for him. The sound of her enjoyment, the juices and smells of her body brought on an explosive climax. Streams of come flooded her interior, and the straining of his hips collapsed her to his side.
  
  They lay quietly together for a long while. He felt her over lazily, his fingers dipping into the pool of juices between her buttocks and along her thighs. She sighed with contentment, aftershocks of pleasure racking her body when he touched particularly sensitive points. The tremours died down, and they lay quietly together while the drums played into the night.
  
  Before she left he asked casually, "Those yamabushi you saw—do you know where they are headed?"
  
  "To the entrance to the Yoshino sanctuary. They are a closed-mouthed group, but their leader, the daisendatsu, is a man they call Daisangyoja."
  
  Jiro bowed his thanks as the mikoshi carrier slipped away, then curled up in the warm dark to sleep.