Tokyo July 1st 1991 through July 10th 1991 - Susan Mathew and the Party.

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Tokyo July 1st 1991 through July 10th 1991 – Susan Mathew and the Party.

 Part 1 – Big Ronaldo.

Muggy air, sweaty body and uncomfortable damp bedclothes brought Bill Douglas awake on Monday 1st July 1991. The bed sheets were a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t made it upstairs to bed and succumbed instead to the initial comfort of the leather couch in the main room. The leather was a false friend however, because overnight his sweat had created a sticky surface that made him wince when he tried to turn in what remained of his attempts to sleep.

He remembered sitting there late, watching the news coverage leading up to the death of the Warsaw Pact which was due to be ratified sometime today in Prague. But the repetitive monologue voices had done their trick and sent him off to the land of nod.

Well after midnight he dozed off thinking about how his new friend Gorbie would be feeling as this first step in his overall strategy came into being. In fact although he could only recall bits and pieces of it, he had dreamed off and on of his discussions with the President.

The bottle of cognac he’d opened lay three quarters empty on its side and he realized his mouth felt like the inside of Fingal’s cave. He also realized that being stark naked in the front lounge of the place with no blinds was not a great idea at approaching ten in the morning, even although there was practically zero possibility of anybody passing by the window.

 But then he heard the clinking of dishes and glasses coming from the kitchen. “Oh shit!” He thought, “I forgot Sakurai san always comes to clean on a Monday.” He’d also forgotten that in the lead up to the party on July Ninth, that she was coming in daily to prepare and get the place in order.

Just as he considered this she marched into the room, gave him her most disparaging look and threw his yukata at him from across the room.

“Douglas san, you’re on your own for only a couple of days and here you are trying to scare an old woman to death with that monster of yours,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

It always made him chuckle when he thought about how he’d teased Kris before she came over to Tokyo, about having a cleaning lady. He’d told her that it was commonplace for foreigners to always have a female maid in the house to perform cleaning duties, bathe them and look after all their needs. Kris had fallen for it, particularly the fact that he’d told her that the maid was young, beautiful and that she shouldn’t worry about it.

It was a matter of huge and repeated teasing that when Kris finally did arrive in the Yoyogi Uehara house that the first thing she said on arrival was, “So Douglas, where the fuck is this bloody maid?” 

When he had relented and introduced Sakurai san, Kris punched him so hard in his gut, it nearly floored him.

Still chuckling to himself, he responded to Sakurai san, “No need for concern my lady. I know you’ve seen and held larger than mine in your time. I am happy you provided me with cover from my embarrassment.” And he gave as graceful a bow as he could muster before continuing,

 “I have a houseguest arriving this week. Her name is Susan. She’s English, twenty eight or so and is a demanding bitch. Don’t put up with any nonsense from her or she’ll try and walk all over you,” and he gave her a knowing look and a wink.

Sakurai simply smiled and nodded her head knowingly like an ancient sage. “You’ve had this young woman Douglas san,” she responded, “I can tell by the way your cock twitched when you mentioned her name. You better be careful while she’s here or Kris will cut off your balls and serve them at the party.”

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