It is my second week in Japan. I am in a large city of a different prefecture since my first visit to a soap land. In this town there is an area near onsens, hot springs, which includes a street with a number of business advertising opportunities to spend some time with a pretty woman. Arranged dates, where things can happen. I am walking along the street. Most of the Japanese business men standing in front of business doors don’t want to talk to a foreigner. I get to the part of the streets without a lot of lights. The street continues, but it is dark. Although it is summer, the darkness of the continuing street seems cold. The lighted sign in front of a small business seems bright and inviting. A middle age Japanese man is standing by the sign. I say to him good evening in Japanese. He responds. I say a couple more conversational things regarding the weather. He then asks me in English if I want to come in. The prices are on the sign. He says that their place is the only one that foreigners are accepted. He says they have a nice choice of women, and someone is available now. He says, sex ok and smiles. I follow him inside.
I give him the money for 50 minutes. There is a small waiting room. The walls are covered with framed photos of cute women. I am assuming the pictures are of the women who come here to visit with men. It is a small waiting room with two benches. The walls are dark green, and the carpet is brown, but I think it was probably lighter at one time, with dirt and grime dulling it over time. There is a young Japanese man in the waiting room. It is unusual to see someone with facial acne in Japan, but he has a light case. It doesn’t make him unattractive, but perhaps he feels that way. I am not sure of his interests here, but probably he will have an intimate date with some woman in a room. The guy who brought me comes and talks to him. The customer follows the guy across the room to a door. The customer and the guy have disappeared and now I am alone.
Why am I here? It is not because I am desperate, depressed, or bored. I am here because I am interested in what happens in a soap land, and a general description is not the same as an experience. I am here because I am interested in cultural experiences. There are two cultures that I am not sure about and need to explore. The Japanese culture and the general culture of men paying for the privilege of sensual time with a woman. I am not Japanese, but I have traveled enough in Japan to understand there is a difference with attitudes towards marriage and sexuality. As a man, I have almost unlimited desire for as much sex with as many partners than I could probably physically or even realistically accomplish in my life. One has to try. Right?
The guy comes up to me and says to follow him. He takes me to door the young man went. Behind the door is a woman. She motions me to take off my shoes and put in the wire and cloth hamper she is holding. I remove my shoes, place them in the box, and follow her in a narrow hallway. There is a door to the right. She goes inside. There is a single mattress covered in vinyl with a yellow towel covering a portion of it. She puts the box with my shoes on a shelf, and gives me another container for my clothes and motions for me to take my clothes off. I am talking with her in my limited Japanese. Asking where she is from, she says, Osaka. Does she like it here. She has been a couple of months. The weather is nice, yes it is. Oh your Japanese is good, I say it is not. We laugh. We smile at each other. She motions me into the adjoining shower room. She pulls her gown off and turns the shower on. She is quite attractive. She is probably in her late twenties. She has nice small breasts. Her shoulder length straight hair is a brown color but she is obviously Japanese. She says for me to get under the shower. She scrubs my back, she pulls my shoulder to have me turn around in the small shower. She washes my front, and spends time rubbing my dick and balls with soap. She looks up and me. It looks like she wants to kiss, but doesn’t. I smile and turn around to rinse the soap off. I move out of the way so she can wash herself. I try to wash her and she tells me to go out. I go out to the room. I sit on the mattress. She comes out in a few minutes. I look at her. She climbs up on the mattress. She spreads my legs apart. She strokes my penis. She leans down and starts to suck it. Up and down, and around. She makes it hard really fast, but not enough to cum. She sits up and reaches above me head to a shelf above my head. I take the opportunity to feel her tits. They are soft and I want to suck them, but she shows me what she reached for on the shelf. It was a condom. A Japanese condom, which are generally too small for my big dick, and it is almost important for me to cum with such restrictive rubber sacks. She opens it. Squeezes the tip, and rolls it on my dick. She lubes herself, and puts the rest on my condom covered dick. She then straddles me, let herself down on my dick. She starts to lean back with my dick inside her. I lift up because the angle is wrong. I think she likes this position, but realizes that is not going to work. She leans forward and her head comes to my breast. I move inside her. She responds. We move together and then sometimes differently. My dick almost pops out, but somehow we move to save that. We are beginning to communicate, but I think we still needs some translation. I am hard, but not ready. She is just going through the motions as she must have done before. I stop her. She gets off. I motion for her to lay down on her back on the mattress. I spread her legs wide. She lifts her feet up to the ceiling. Now we are getting somewhere. I enter her. I don’t work up to a speed, I just start off at a full pounding rate. She starts to moan. It sounds real. I start to feel my cum overcome that Japanese rubber straight jacket, that is called a condom. I thrust, thrust, I cum. I cry out, I cry, and I sob. I cum, and cum. I pull out of her. I look at her. She reaches up to that trusty shelf above her head and gets a paper towel. She rolls off the condom. Wraps it up and she gets up and goes to the shower. I follow her in and we take another shower together. We wash each other now. Something made us closer than when we first started. I always wonder if it is desire that causes sex or sex that causes desire. Today I think the sex caused the desire. We left the shower and went back to the room. She said , do you want to smoke? I said no. She says we have time, do I want a massage. I really wanted to touch her, so I said I would massage her. She smiled and laid face down on the mattress. I proceed to give her the most relaxing massage I could. I find touching another person and feeling their needs most relaxing. After a time the phone in the room rings. It is time. We get up and dress. She leads me out of the room and I am carrying my shoes. She opens the door and I go out. She smiles as I leave the hallway and back into that dark green waiting room. There are no other customers waiting, just the guy who brought me there. He asked how she did. I said wonderful. He smiled. I think he probably had experienced what I had. It was that kind of look that two men have ,when they have shared experience with a woman. Yes this was a cultural experience worth remembering.
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