My cheeks turned a deep shade of red in my embarrassment. Abby looked up at me, not angry or embarrassed, but just sad. I held her in my arms to conso...e her. Her emotions from the past day caught up with her, and she started bawling. I held her close, her head on my shoulder. I gently caressed her back, hoping she would stop crying. Her tears were like little daggers in my heart. She looked up at me, the crying over, but the tears still sitting on her face. I wiped them away from her, drying. We showed each other some of the, a... "customs" of our societies. When she departed to go home she gave me this and told me to save it for a true love, not for a pansuke, like she. She said a pansuke was a plain-clothes geisha, or whore or slut. Apparently she was much more free with her charms here, than she would normally be at home, but she was not ashamed of that, calling herself a whore here, but honorable at home. She used one of these kits for the times we made love in her rented. More

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