My Yakuza by A.J. Llewellyn (books for 6 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📕

“Oh…Shiro.”

Nobody touched him the way Shiro did. He enjoyed the sensations in his body, primal…fierce. Something in Shiro responded to Kono each and every time, beyond need, beyond desire.

It was a sacred connection.

He pulled Shiro into his arms.

“I hate the damned Yaks…but my religion is you. They led me to you…thank you for not killing me.”

His words felt awkward, but Shiro smiled.

“Thank you for loving me.”

He pulled his lover closer, holding him tight. Their hard cocks yearned for one another.

Kono wanted to fuck his beautiful man, but their mouths went to one another’s cocks, fingers tugging at ass holes. He had to remember there was time and space in these beautiful islands for everything they wanted to do.

They came together. It always thrilled him how hard Shiro erupted and how they rocked each other’s worlds so well.

“Let’s order room service,” Kono said, raising himself on his elbow and looking out at the magnificent Pacific Ocean.

“I want to swim with you,” Shiro said. “Let’s go out…please?”

“Whatever you want.”

They left the hotel, leaving their leis draped over the bedposts. They carried their hotel-issued towels over their shoulders, their wallets zippered in the waterproof pockets of their board shorts. They crossed Kalakaua Avenue, slipping down between two hotels to the beach. They cavorted in the cool ocean water, kissing under the waves, laughing each time they came up for air. They rose again as dolphins breached in the distance.

“I love this place,” Kono shouted.

“Let’s go have some dinner,” Shiro said. “I know just the place.”

* * * *

Shiro couldn’t wait to take Kono to the back bar of the Ala Moana hotel.

“Are we dressed okay? This looks awfully fancy.”

“We’re in Hawaii,” Shiro whispered leading him to an oceanfront table that also had a great view of the three-piece Hawaiian band entertaining the fast-growing crowd.

Kono kept staring at the romantic setting. The beautiful people around them, who, like Shiro and Kono, were dressed casually.

Their waiter was a handsome island man who brought them Mai Tais at Shiro’s suggestion.

“Can we have coconut prawns and some French fries, please?” he asked the waiter as the hula dancer took to the small stage.

Shiro loved this place. He leaned against Kono, whose arm tightened around his waist as the old Hawaiian rhythm of music and love enveloped them.

“I’m so relaxed,” Kono said, feeding a French fry to Shiro.

After a cocktail each and their appetisers, Shiro knew Kono was anxious to return to their room.

They walked back together, along noisy Kalakaua Avenue and Kono couldn’t seem to contain himself. He reached for Shiro’s hand. Inside the hotel, they ran to the elevator. At their room, they swiped their key card and popped open the lock. The heady fragrance of pikake filled the room.

“Oh, wow, this really is paradise,” Kono said, slipping the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the outside door handle.

He went to the bar and pulled out a beer, opening the sliding glass door to the balcony.

“What is that mountain there called?”

“Diamond Head.”

“How apt. Diamond Head is about to watch me give you some real diamond head.” He pulled Shiro into his arms and kissed him.

“Now take off your fucking clothes,” he said.

Shiro stripped and saw how hard Kono was. Kono opened his beer and sat on the chair, taking Shiro into his arms.

“There’s a lot more people out here than in Long Island. Sure you don’t mind them watching?”

Shiro looked down. Nobody was looking up.

“It’s kind of exciting.”

Kono bent and suckled on Shiro’s cock. Shiro’s gaze flew to the sky. He could see stars and behind him, Diamond Head turning black in the night sky. He felt his lover’s mouth moving from his cock to his ass and balls, and back again.

“Come for me.” Kono said, resuming his slick work on Shiro’s cock. Shiro quickly complied.

* * * *

Kono came to the University of Hawaii at Manoa campus with him the following day. He waited in the quadrangle outside as Shiro went to talk to his professor.

“How are you doing?” his teacher asked. “How long will you be staying in Honolulu?”

“Not long. I’m leaving today for the mainland, but I want to make sure I have everything I need to stay on target with my studies.”

“You will be able to come back at some point next semester to give me your thesis, I hope. That was our understanding.”

“Absolutely,” Shiro said.

The two men talked for the better part of an hour. Shiro hated lying to his professor, but he couldn’t tell him he was going to Kauai. For all their online correspondences, he’d use software to hide his ISP information and call with blocked cell phones. He left the office with a fresh wad of material, not thrilled to see that he wasn’t done with wet taro farming yet. Not by a long shot.

Outside, he found Kono waiting for him. They fell in step.

“I just listened to a whole lecture by a group of guys who want Hawaii to return to sovereignty and for the US to relinquish its statehood. I had no idea what a big issue this is,” Kono said.

“Yeah. It is.”

“How do you feel about it?”

Shiro shrugged. “I understand how they feel but of course I don’t want the islands reverting to Hawaiian rule. I wouldn’t have a home then because they don’t want anyone but Hawaiians here and I’m Hawaiian…but that doesn’t count to them.”

Kono asked more questions as they headed back to the airport in the rental. Shiro once again had the wheel while Kono ogled the parade of island talent as Shiro gave him a pocket-size history of the islands.

“You’re amazing,” Kono said. “You should teach.”

“I think I want to,” Shiro said. “I want to share the things I love about these islands…it’s a part of who I am.”

* * * *

Their inter-island flight to Lihue, Kauai, was via go! airlines, and with the rigmarole of the rental-car return and security checkpoints, they barely made the flight. It was a turbulent one too, but