Categories > Anime/Manga > Viewfinder
When the red dot on the display screen started to move, Asami could not help but frowning. He picked up the little device from his desk, and leaned back on his highbacked, leather chair, staring at the dot. So the computer geek did not lie to him when he said that the device simply used a cell phone signal to track it down. No need for planted bugs or anything. But of course, the geek knew better than to lie to Asami.
A small box with text popped up. /Bus stop/. After a few seconds, the dot began moving faster, following green lines that made up the streets and roads of Tokyo City. Asami twitched the corner of his lips into a little smile.
When the dot stopped again, another text box popped up. /Subway Station/.
His telephone rang. Asami ignored it. His eyes glued to the little tracking device screen.
His secretary spoke through the telephone speaker, "Asami-sama, Minister Sato on line three."
"I'll call back," said Asami without shifting his gaze from the red dot.
Ten minutes later, the red dot stopped, and again, a text box popped up - the destined subway station.
The red dot now moved a much, much slower, the pace of someone walking. But Asami was patient. He got all day.
His secretary spoke through the phone speaker again, "Asami-sama, Hirata-san is here for his appointment."
"Reschedule," said Asami without missing a beat.
Silence again, just as the red dot stopped again, and a text box appeared again. Newspaper Office.
Gods. Asami pressed his palm on his face. This was even better than Goggle Earth. Very accurate.
When he lowered his hand, Asami smiled. /You've got nowhere to go, Akihito/, he said in his heart as he placed the device on the desk again.
*
It was amusing to keep an eye of the red dot all day, wondering about Akihito's next destination, although he had the feeling that he would not get any surprises. Not at least until later at night. This was even better than assigning his bodyguard to tail Akihito and waiting for the said bodyguard to call and report. He did not need to know what Akihito was doing. When the text box said, for example, Hiroko Ramen House, Asami could very well imagine Akihito slurping a big bowl of steamy ramen, his cheeks flushing pink from the heat. To know where Akihito was, minute by minute, gave Asami a deep, satisfying feeling, as if he was the god, and he had Akihito's life in his hands.
The kind of satisfaction of playing with people's fate, like he always did on a daily basis.
No. Better.
The satisfaction of a mindblowing orgasm after a loooooooong, very slow intercourse.
Asami shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
He was aroused.
*
His driver looked worried, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. "Are you sure, Asami-sama?" he asked, his voice trembling a little. "You're all alone."
Sometimes Asami wanted to smack his driver's head for asking such a silly question. But he had decided some years ago that the driver was not worth to kill. And he could be trusted. So Asami just ignored him, and got out of his car.
Standing at the pavement, he looked up at the abandoned, half-finished building in front of him. A perfect hiding place when one was planning on taking an illegal picture from the apartment building next to it. It was dark, it was deserted. No one would bother, no one dared.
Asami slipped a cigarette between his lips, lighting it. Taking a deep drag slowly. Blowing blue rings of smoke as slowly. Then he began walking.
He knew that it would be much easier to bring the little tracking device with him, but he decided to leave it in the car, at the backseat. He had been watching Akihito all day, he could use a little play now. As long as he knew that Akihito was on the tenth floor.
He walked slowly, climbing the unfinished stairs from one floor to the next in an even pace. He was not in hurry. He got all night. And the stairway was the only way out.
His heart thumped a bit when he reached tenth floor, but he knew that it was not from climbing up the stairway. It was from feeling victorious. Anticipation. Adrenaline high. Soon he would know that the device did not lie to him. That it actually worked.
That Akihito was there, just like the device showed Asami, inside the third room, leaving against the window with his viewfinder lifted high, ready to capture the picture that would shock the movie world tomorrow. He was too caught up with his concentration, with his own thoughts, that he was oblivious to his surroundings. He did not seem to notice that someone else had joined him in that room.
Not very smart, Asami thought, feeling smug. To drop the alertness like that. But then, perhaps Akihito had known that nothing scared him anymore now that he had experienced the worst with Asami.
Still, that was reckless.
But if he weren't reckless, maybe it would not be fun.
Asami waited until Akihito finished taking the pictures. Then he walked toward Akihito, feeling quite happy that he had not forgotten how to walk without making any sounds, even on a hard concrete floor with his Bally shoes. And swiftly.
Grabbing Akihito from the back, pressing on palm on Akihito's mouth, and snaking one arm around his waist tightly.
Akihito struggled, hands gripping on Asami's wrists to tug them off, legs trying to kick Asami. But it was to no avail. Anger made him weak. Besides, Asami had been prepared. He knew that Akihito would do that. Without saying anything, he waited until Akihito gave up, enjoying the way Akihito's body bucked against him.
It was almost a bliss.
Almost.
He took a deep breath, and lowered his hand from Akihito's stomach to his groin, cupping Akihito's sex, and stroking gently through the thick fabric of his jeans.
Asami had to hold his own breath for a while as heat surged up inside him, filling his veins.
Akihito stopped struggling, stiffening against Asami's body, his grips were not so strong anymore. Asami stroked one more time and a low grunt escaped Akihito's throat. Asami took it as an excited one rather than an annoyed one.
Hugging Akihito tighter, keeping his palm on Akihito's mouth, Asami fumbled with the button of Akihito's jeans. Then the zipper. As his fingers pulled the metal seal down, Asami hooked one on the waistband of Akihito's briefs, pulling it down altogether, freeing his sex. It was half-hard already, throbbing, and it had begun to drip.
His little slut. Never succeeded in maintaining even an average level of self-control.
Akihito made a gasping sound, tossing his head backwards, the back of his head hitting Asami's shoulder. Asami could feel the heat radiating from his scalp, sweet smelled, familiar, intoxicating. He took Akihito's sex in his fist, stroking slowly again.
Asami drank in Akihito's rising heat, and the feel of his hardening flesh. Akihito still kept one hand on the wrist of Asami's hand that covered his mouth, and used the other to grip on Asami's hip for support. That was the only way to keep him standing still while his knees were giving away. Akihito's breath hitched, and he was making more sounds at the back of his throat. Purring. Writhing.
Then Asami stopped stroking, knowing very well that if he went on, Akihito would come before long, and Asami would not have that. He had been waiting all day for this. Akihito growled in frustration, and Asami released his hand from Akihito's mouth.
"Fuck me," Akihito breathed.
So sweet.
Although even if Akihito did not beg, Asami would fuck him anyway. He had planned it.
He gently shoved Akihito to the window, lifting Akihito's hands above his head. Akihito obeyed. Then Asami sneaked one hand beneath Akihito's shirt to toy with his nipples, while he released his own erection from the confinement of his dress pants. Akihito whimpered. Asami had learned that Akihito's nipples were as sensitive as his cock, if not more, that made it more exciting to play with the pink nubs.
Not wanting to let go of the nipples too soon, Asami had to work the lid of the gel tube with one hand. Fortunately, it had a fliptop lid. He popped it open with his thumb, and squeezed some amounts right on his cock. Then he tossed the tube away, and smeared the gel all over his cock, and Akihito's opening. He almost could not stand the preparation, he wanted to thrust in right away, burying himself in the exquisite heat that was Akihito's body.
But, then, he also had learned that patience always collected a bigger reward.
That when he finally entered, deep, deep in Akihito's body, it was pure bliss.
That listening to Akihito moaning at his first move was completely heaven.
That pounding into Akihito in a pace that was comfortable for both of them was the ultimate pleasure.
That was why he did not rush it. He's got all night.
Slowly.
Picking up the pace.
Slowing down.
Stroking Akihito's erection in the same pace.
Tugging on Akihito's hair, shifting his head aside for a passionate kiss, battling Akihito's hungry tongue.
And then, in the haze of sexual madness and too much lust, their body snapped, and they came together in unison of low grunt and loud cry.
*
Asami took a deep drag of his cigarette, glancing at the person next to him at the backseat of the car. Akihito was curling in a fetal position, breathing slowly, wearing off the exhaustion of work and sex, sleeping like a baby in a crib. The tracking device was sitting next to his head.
After staring at the dead device for a while, Asami reached for it. He studied the device for some moments, touching the buttons, running his fingertips along the screen, turning it around to see the back of the device. It was indeed a smart machine.
But...
Nothing beat having Akihito in flesh.
Asami rolled the window down and tossed the device out.
*
~end
A small box with text popped up. /Bus stop/. After a few seconds, the dot began moving faster, following green lines that made up the streets and roads of Tokyo City. Asami twitched the corner of his lips into a little smile.
When the dot stopped again, another text box popped up. /Subway Station/.
His telephone rang. Asami ignored it. His eyes glued to the little tracking device screen.
His secretary spoke through the telephone speaker, "Asami-sama, Minister Sato on line three."
"I'll call back," said Asami without shifting his gaze from the red dot.
Ten minutes later, the red dot stopped, and again, a text box popped up - the destined subway station.
The red dot now moved a much, much slower, the pace of someone walking. But Asami was patient. He got all day.
His secretary spoke through the phone speaker again, "Asami-sama, Hirata-san is here for his appointment."
"Reschedule," said Asami without missing a beat.
Silence again, just as the red dot stopped again, and a text box appeared again. Newspaper Office.
Gods. Asami pressed his palm on his face. This was even better than Goggle Earth. Very accurate.
When he lowered his hand, Asami smiled. /You've got nowhere to go, Akihito/, he said in his heart as he placed the device on the desk again.
*
It was amusing to keep an eye of the red dot all day, wondering about Akihito's next destination, although he had the feeling that he would not get any surprises. Not at least until later at night. This was even better than assigning his bodyguard to tail Akihito and waiting for the said bodyguard to call and report. He did not need to know what Akihito was doing. When the text box said, for example, Hiroko Ramen House, Asami could very well imagine Akihito slurping a big bowl of steamy ramen, his cheeks flushing pink from the heat. To know where Akihito was, minute by minute, gave Asami a deep, satisfying feeling, as if he was the god, and he had Akihito's life in his hands.
The kind of satisfaction of playing with people's fate, like he always did on a daily basis.
No. Better.
The satisfaction of a mindblowing orgasm after a loooooooong, very slow intercourse.
Asami shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
He was aroused.
*
His driver looked worried, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. "Are you sure, Asami-sama?" he asked, his voice trembling a little. "You're all alone."
Sometimes Asami wanted to smack his driver's head for asking such a silly question. But he had decided some years ago that the driver was not worth to kill. And he could be trusted. So Asami just ignored him, and got out of his car.
Standing at the pavement, he looked up at the abandoned, half-finished building in front of him. A perfect hiding place when one was planning on taking an illegal picture from the apartment building next to it. It was dark, it was deserted. No one would bother, no one dared.
Asami slipped a cigarette between his lips, lighting it. Taking a deep drag slowly. Blowing blue rings of smoke as slowly. Then he began walking.
He knew that it would be much easier to bring the little tracking device with him, but he decided to leave it in the car, at the backseat. He had been watching Akihito all day, he could use a little play now. As long as he knew that Akihito was on the tenth floor.
He walked slowly, climbing the unfinished stairs from one floor to the next in an even pace. He was not in hurry. He got all night. And the stairway was the only way out.
His heart thumped a bit when he reached tenth floor, but he knew that it was not from climbing up the stairway. It was from feeling victorious. Anticipation. Adrenaline high. Soon he would know that the device did not lie to him. That it actually worked.
That Akihito was there, just like the device showed Asami, inside the third room, leaving against the window with his viewfinder lifted high, ready to capture the picture that would shock the movie world tomorrow. He was too caught up with his concentration, with his own thoughts, that he was oblivious to his surroundings. He did not seem to notice that someone else had joined him in that room.
Not very smart, Asami thought, feeling smug. To drop the alertness like that. But then, perhaps Akihito had known that nothing scared him anymore now that he had experienced the worst with Asami.
Still, that was reckless.
But if he weren't reckless, maybe it would not be fun.
Asami waited until Akihito finished taking the pictures. Then he walked toward Akihito, feeling quite happy that he had not forgotten how to walk without making any sounds, even on a hard concrete floor with his Bally shoes. And swiftly.
Grabbing Akihito from the back, pressing on palm on Akihito's mouth, and snaking one arm around his waist tightly.
Akihito struggled, hands gripping on Asami's wrists to tug them off, legs trying to kick Asami. But it was to no avail. Anger made him weak. Besides, Asami had been prepared. He knew that Akihito would do that. Without saying anything, he waited until Akihito gave up, enjoying the way Akihito's body bucked against him.
It was almost a bliss.
Almost.
He took a deep breath, and lowered his hand from Akihito's stomach to his groin, cupping Akihito's sex, and stroking gently through the thick fabric of his jeans.
Asami had to hold his own breath for a while as heat surged up inside him, filling his veins.
Akihito stopped struggling, stiffening against Asami's body, his grips were not so strong anymore. Asami stroked one more time and a low grunt escaped Akihito's throat. Asami took it as an excited one rather than an annoyed one.
Hugging Akihito tighter, keeping his palm on Akihito's mouth, Asami fumbled with the button of Akihito's jeans. Then the zipper. As his fingers pulled the metal seal down, Asami hooked one on the waistband of Akihito's briefs, pulling it down altogether, freeing his sex. It was half-hard already, throbbing, and it had begun to drip.
His little slut. Never succeeded in maintaining even an average level of self-control.
Akihito made a gasping sound, tossing his head backwards, the back of his head hitting Asami's shoulder. Asami could feel the heat radiating from his scalp, sweet smelled, familiar, intoxicating. He took Akihito's sex in his fist, stroking slowly again.
Asami drank in Akihito's rising heat, and the feel of his hardening flesh. Akihito still kept one hand on the wrist of Asami's hand that covered his mouth, and used the other to grip on Asami's hip for support. That was the only way to keep him standing still while his knees were giving away. Akihito's breath hitched, and he was making more sounds at the back of his throat. Purring. Writhing.
Then Asami stopped stroking, knowing very well that if he went on, Akihito would come before long, and Asami would not have that. He had been waiting all day for this. Akihito growled in frustration, and Asami released his hand from Akihito's mouth.
"Fuck me," Akihito breathed.
So sweet.
Although even if Akihito did not beg, Asami would fuck him anyway. He had planned it.
He gently shoved Akihito to the window, lifting Akihito's hands above his head. Akihito obeyed. Then Asami sneaked one hand beneath Akihito's shirt to toy with his nipples, while he released his own erection from the confinement of his dress pants. Akihito whimpered. Asami had learned that Akihito's nipples were as sensitive as his cock, if not more, that made it more exciting to play with the pink nubs.
Not wanting to let go of the nipples too soon, Asami had to work the lid of the gel tube with one hand. Fortunately, it had a fliptop lid. He popped it open with his thumb, and squeezed some amounts right on his cock. Then he tossed the tube away, and smeared the gel all over his cock, and Akihito's opening. He almost could not stand the preparation, he wanted to thrust in right away, burying himself in the exquisite heat that was Akihito's body.
But, then, he also had learned that patience always collected a bigger reward.
That when he finally entered, deep, deep in Akihito's body, it was pure bliss.
That listening to Akihito moaning at his first move was completely heaven.
That pounding into Akihito in a pace that was comfortable for both of them was the ultimate pleasure.
That was why he did not rush it. He's got all night.
Slowly.
Picking up the pace.
Slowing down.
Stroking Akihito's erection in the same pace.
Tugging on Akihito's hair, shifting his head aside for a passionate kiss, battling Akihito's hungry tongue.
And then, in the haze of sexual madness and too much lust, their body snapped, and they came together in unison of low grunt and loud cry.
*
Asami took a deep drag of his cigarette, glancing at the person next to him at the backseat of the car. Akihito was curling in a fetal position, breathing slowly, wearing off the exhaustion of work and sex, sleeping like a baby in a crib. The tracking device was sitting next to his head.
After staring at the dead device for a while, Asami reached for it. He studied the device for some moments, touching the buttons, running his fingertips along the screen, turning it around to see the back of the device. It was indeed a smart machine.
But...
Nothing beat having Akihito in flesh.
Asami rolled the window down and tossed the device out.
*
~end
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