Tea of the Full Moon

The tea in the pot set aside for Arata was drained into the cup, and Arata drank the last of it, hungrily. Servants rushed in and swept away the table and tea set, but Arata hardly noticed their coming and going. His mind was dissembling, and his thoughts were fleeting. He was floating above all this and briefly hoped that his altered state of mind wasn’t being noticed by his lord. He was slightly embarrassed, not being able to hold his tea. He had grown up on much stronger drink than this. He had no idea that tea could be so intoxicating.

Lord Oraruto had moved his cushion quite closely in front of Arata now, so that it was positioned where the tea table had been.

From the folds in his heavily layered kimono, the daimyo produced brush paintings on rice paper and turned them for Arata to examine. Arata blushed at what was being depicted in these paintings, but he was involuntarily aroused as well. That tea and its effect on his senses had dulled his natural aversion to what he had seen. He had seen such drawings before, but they had been very crude, not beautifully brushed as these were.

His eyes drank in the exotic couplings being presented on the rice paper, and he felt his body stirring as it did when he watched the young women of his village bathe themselves from the secret observation posts that he and the other young men had developed over generations of village life.