When it comes to Asian women there are various fetishes around. Some men are turned on by the ultra skinny girls with tiny waists and narrow legs that are all you see in China and Korea. But for my money, I’d choose a big-titted Japanese girl. There’s just something about the combination of their cute faces (less sharp and more rounded than other Asians) along with their soft simpering voices and huge tits that hang over their soft torsos that I can’t get over.
I met Mitsumi when I was browsing over some accessories at the Japanese centre. I asked about the incense sticks that she was selling. I could have asked the man who was also working there, but what would be the point of that?
After thoroughly going through the various scents, I managed to lightly brush up against her arm. I could see Mitsumi’s breasts straining against the fabric of her t-shirt, and the thickness of the strap suggested that she was a D or E cup, at the very least. She was wearing an apron over the t-shirt, so I couldn’t see any cleavage, but there was no hiding from the fact that she had massive tits.
As she didn’t seem to mind me touching her, I decided to go back the following day to see if I could meet her one evening. Mitsumi was cleaning up and the manager had already gone home for the night.
Mitsumi was wearing the same outfit, and as she was sweeping the floor, the strap of her apron fell loose. Finally, she got tired of pulling it up and then she took it off and put it on the seat.
I wasted no more time and went in inside to speak to her.
“Oh, hi,” she said. ‘I’m sorry, we’re about to close.” I walked in to the shop and shut the door.
“That’s ok. I’m not here to buy anything.”
Mitsumi put the broom down and then put it in the back.
“Have you tried the incense?”
“I have. It’s great, thank you for recommending it. Do you have a few minutes so that we can talk?“
“I don’t mind.”
“Great.”
Mitsumi closed the door and flipped the sign over to ‘Closed.’
She led me to the store-room at the back of the shop.
She sat down on one of the office chairs, and leant forward slightly. She seemed to enjoy letting me have a better look at her wonderful breasts.
I decided to ask her if she had a boyfriend.
“No, I don’t have time at the moment.”
“That must be boring sometimes,” I said.
“It is.”
“You must get a lot of looks from men in the shop?”
“Oh, some of them. Like, this one guy recently who couldn’t stop staring at me.”
I hoped she wasn’t talking about me.
‘So I usually wear these t-shirts when I work here, even though at home I like to wear looser, low-cut tops, I just get too many looks if I dress like that here.’
“I would love to see you wearing those,” I offered her by way of subtle suggestion, and watched her smile at me.
“Can you be good? I’ll show you something but we need to be careful.
Follow me.”
Mitsumi led me to another room at the back that was used for storing stationery and other materials.
“Sit down.”
I followed her order and was dumbstruck when Mitsumi sat on top of me and started to thrust her chest directly into my face, so that I was surrounded by her soft tit-flesh.
“Would you like to see more?”
I nodded silently as she lifted up her t-shirt to her neck, and I gazed at her breasts as they sat upright in her pale blue bra. Her hair was loose and she gave her tits a little shake for me, letting her black fringe swish over her round face. I was about to get the greatest strip of my life – a one-man porn film starring me was about to start.
Mitsumi turned around and revealed her back to me, the thick band of her bra was within reach, and she took my hands and placed them on each of her breasts. I gave them a squeeze and lifted them up under the cups so that her breasts were as high as her chin.
Mitsumi gasped gently, and I felt her nipples stiffening beneath the gauzy material of her bra.
“Are you going to kiss them for me?”
Mitsumi used my hands to unclasp them, and squeezed her arms together so that her bra fell down to her waist.
The curves of her tits were overshadowing her upper body, making perfect round arcs.
“Kiss them for me.”
I turned her around and she lifted her right breast up so that I could suck it, and I used my tongue to stimulate her nipples gently.
“Oh, yessss,” she sighed.
She was moaning a lot, so I let my hands roam over her breasts all the while using my tongue to give her more caresses.
“Mmmmm, you are so good at that.”
‘Well, I am a breast –man. So, I’ve always wondered…. can you cum just from having your tits massaged?
“I sometimes do. They are quite sensitive.”
I slowed down with my tonguing as I didn’t want to get tired, not that I wasn’t having the time of my life!”
“Did I make you excited?” she asked, eyeing the bulge in my trousers.
“Let me help you with that.”
I was really turned on now, especially as she had become aroused enough for her nipples to have turned completely stiff from all the sucking and fondling.
“Would you like a tit-wank?”
She positioned herself higher than me and used some spit to make her breasts smooth and slippery.
My erection bulged out of my trousers and I let it pop out of my fly.
Mitsumi gave it strokes with her palm and I let my hands wander back to her massive mammaries.
I was almost spinning. My cock was smushed between her tits and her hands were on my balls. Mitsumi moving her tits up and down was creating the most perfect sensations. I felt an aching sensation inside and cried out.
Ahhh!!! Fuckkkk!!!!
“Ohhh, sorry.”
I watched my cum spread out of my cock, flooding her chest, and dripping down.
“No need to apologise. I’m sorry I didn’t give you time to come.”
Mitsumi looked at my slyly and said
“How do you know I didn’t? Here, I’ll clean you up.”
She pulled some tissues out of her bag and rubbed my penis gently.
As we sat, she propped my head against her chest so that I could enjoy the view one more time…..
Ahhh!!! Fuckkkk!!!!
“Ohhh, sorry.”
I watched my cum spread out of my cock, flooding her chest, and dripping down.
“No need to apologise. I’m sorry I didn’t give you time to come.”
Mitsumi looked at my slyly and said
“How do you know I didn’t? Here, I’ll clean you up.”
She pulled some tissues out of her bag and rubbed my penis gently.
As we sat, she propped my head against her chest so that I could enjoy the view one more time…..
These days, there’s so much talk of what’s appropriate or not that you worry precisely when you’re going to be called out for some lack of political correctness.
Remember when Katy Perry wore this to the American Music Awards? Some of the comments at that time ranged from ‘she looks so pretty’ to cries of outrage and a sense that the outfit was cultural appropriation. There were some who felt that Perry had no right to wear the kimono – a Japanese cultural emblem that dates back to the Edo period. Most of the haters failed to realise that it was just a performance – nothing different from a stage show , or let’s use Madame Butterfly as another, slightly different example wherein white singers play the parts of Japanese characters.
Katy Perry’s infamous Geisha dance
Scroll through the negative comments on Youtube and you won’t find any from Japanese people. It seems that nearly all Japanese people are pretty much fine whenever someone not Japanese decides to wear a Kimono. Yet, many still feel that whenever people step outside their culture to wear ethnic clothing they are committing a crime tantamount to racism, or at the very least, cultural appropriation.
I got my own taste of this recently when I borrowed a kimono to wear for the day. Most people understood what I was doing but I was blind-sided by the comments of some. What right did I, as a privileged white male – have wearing a Japanese garment that Japanese people have been mocked for wearing? The argument being that I can never wear a kimono with good intent? Did it make any difference that I was wearing it correctly? Or that it was assembled and sewn by a Japanese person? Apparently not. By this point, I couldn’t think of a good argument that would sufficiently counter these claims.
My head was spinning. Were these people actually saying that people of certain races should be prevented from wearing the clothes of other races? Weren’t they guilty of the same racism and intolerance that I was being accused of? Still more fantastic was the argument that those of true Japanese culture had no say in the debate because they couldn’t appreciate the discrimination that second generations of Japanese had to face in America.
the good news is that I went away with more enthusiasm for the kimono than ever, and I resolved to wear it again as much as I can. I looked for examples of people like me who love wear Japanese clothes (plenty, it turns out). And I looked at examples of famous people over the years and found so many. David Bowie proudly wearing one as ‘Ziggy Stardust’; Bjork for her album cover ‘Homogenic’. Perhaps there are many more for those who care to look. The kimono has permeated our clothing habits so much that we are not aware that a dressing room is a simplified kimono – see Obi Wan Kenobi in the first Star Wars film. No-one cried ‘cultural appropriation’ then, and they shouldn’t now. If we aren’t careful, we risk creating a world where no-one can ever really understand the culture of other countries or experience it – something that would make the world a much less diverse and interesting place. I say let everybody wear whatever they want.
First of all, choose the style of kimono as there are many different types available. The most formal are usually black with a gold obi that is tied around the waist. The exciting part of the kimono is the jacket that is laid over the top of the main part of the kimono.
So here are the steps to follow. The First layer is a white cotton sleeveless garment that is a bit like a tunic. There is usually some colourful silk embroidery that is on one side. The idea is that it is visible when you wear the jacket over the top. The sleeveless vest is fastened to the body with a lightweight band that is fixed tightly above the waist.
The next step is to wrap the kimono itself around the body. The kimono I wore was long enough to reach my ankles and needed to be wrapped around twice until it was tight. The difficult part is fitting your arms into the sleeves. They are very loose and baggy – half-sewn up so that your arms can fit through them easily.
A thick braided sash called an obi is then tied tightly over the kimono so that it acts as a belt to keep the kimono in place. I felt very warm by the time this had been done. The obi is always tied at the back – this was done for me but I’m sure that you could do this yourself with practice. The ladies obi is really impressive – almost like a handbag that is attached to the lower back.
You’re almost there. The final part is to where the jacket over the kimono. This is the most delicate and elaborate part. There is a great choice of kimono styles and motifs. Various birds, flowers and Japanese symbols are sewn on to the jacket rather than being printed, this gives them a wonderful decorative flourish. I saw several different colours with many in deep greens and golds and reds. Most would be worn on formal occasions such as weddings and graduation ceremonies. It is also common for children to wear kimonos on their fifth birthdays.
Wearing a kimono for the first time is a special occasion, if a little daunting because of the choices available. Even in Japan, its fairly unusual for people to wear them very often. This being said, I did enjoy wearing it. I had to be extra careful not to damage or stain the sleeves when eating, but it felt great to open the jacket loose and let the sleeves puff out. It certainly is an impressive garment, and the wide sleeves give the wearer plenty of impact.
There are resources on the history of kimono available on line, and the V&A is holding an exhibition of kimonos from 7 August. Titled Kimono – Kiyoto to Catwalk*, it will look at how the style of the kimono has evolved over the years.
Various kimonos are available to hire from kimonodego** in London.
I stayed in large countryside home with traditional shoji
paper screens. For contrast, I also slept in a one-room studio apartment in a
suburb of Tokyo. Somehow I managed my 20-kilo bag inside Ryo’s place, using his
bed whilst he slept on the floor. All this is to say that while it might not be
common to be invited to people’s houses as a tourist, if you make the effort,
it will happen.
It was when I was on the local train for Imabari that I met an orange farmer who wanted me to visit her farm. At first I was doubtful, but decided it was worth making a small diversion. In fact, it was one of the best experiences of my journey. The house was traditional country style with the sliding doors I had seen in films such as the iconic ‘Love Letter’ and Unimachi Diary. There were so many interesting things about the house. For a start, the rooms were filled with furniture and captivating objects.
There were things everywhere, in a comfortable rather than cluttered way that reflected the eclectic taste of the owner, a slightly eccentric woman who has lived in the house since childhood. It was so spacious and comfortable that I didn’t want to leave. And the oranges which grew on the farm were some of the best that I tasted. It didn’t hurt that the owner had a fridge full of delicacies that she was happy to share.
The interior of a countryside home in Japan. The sliding doors are a lovely feature.
The hotel industry offers a wide choice. At the bottom are guesthouses, or hostels. Sometimes they were quite adequate, with reasonable facilities such as a wide TV in the living area and decent cooking equipment. On the other hand, some were so dingy, dirty and crowded, I wished I had slept outside. There are simply too many visitors in Japan, many on such a low budget, and the basic hostels aren’t able to cater for them properly. The problem is the differing needs of backpackers who use these places to meet their friends, and businessmen who stay at them when they are on the road. If you’re Japanese tourist, you probably won’t really mix with the other guests for fear of making them feel obligated to you. In fact, that was the most notable difference between Japanese, and travellers from other countries, whether they would mix or not with strangers. It was most pronounced in the communal areas, where Japanese students would bury themselves in their phones, whilst others would be eagerly mixing, sharing food and other things, as well as comparing their experiences.
It was at the breakfast area that things became most awkward.
With up to thirty people wanting to eat at roughly the same time, it was
everything it took everything in their power to feed everyone. With only two
toasters with slots to cook 2 slices at a time, it became rather a long wait
for a piece of toast. Here the conundrum is do you cook 2 slices at once, thereby
hogging the toaster to yourself depriving others of the right to use it, or simply
toast two slices and offer one of them to someone else, then going back when
you have finished it for another slice, because you can’t keep toast hot very
long anyway. I never found a good enough solution. The fairest way would be to
have a toast monitor, someone continually refilling the toaster so that the
toast was always on hand? But then, I observed that some people would adjust
the toaster so that it cooked their bread for longer or shorter, and in my case,
I often got tired of standing in front of the toaster (I don’t know why I felt
I had to do this) so that I sometimes pulled it out early before the toast was
ready. Others just waited, up to two minutes, with their plate in hand. They wasted
a lot of time like that, but seemed to enjoy it. If someone else’s toast popped
up, they left it sticking out of the toaster. That was annoying too, but
perhaps they didn’t want to handle it too much.
Another thing was the choice of jam was limited to
blueberry, strawberry and marmalade. I didn’t want to leave any out so I had to
put a teaspoonful of each jam on my plate. I hardly used much, and I was
surprised the amount others used. It was the cheap bulk jam. The best bread and
jam I had was at the Maharashi temple in Onnomichi. It was there, on arrival,
that I discovered I had lost my passport.
Onnomichi is a small city along the coast not far from Matsuyama. I
didn’t do much there. I had been recommended to visit the Kendama rock café,
despite what it said online; it was stubbornly closed on both Saturdays I
attempted to visit.
Still, the kitchen offered free tea and coffee. It was powdered coffee, but I did drink it anyway. The problem this time was waiting for the water to boil. Kettles in hotels are usually so old that can take nearly 5 minutes to boil. When they are full the problem is far worse, and meant that there was always a line.
I think there have been too many jokes about kettles with
short flexes. Anyway, it’s probably a safety measure anyway. I’m more
disappointed by the lack of bathroom shower gel miniatures. When you are
travelling across the country, these are highly useful. Yet many of the hotels
I stayed in offered some facial cleansers and toners. What I wanted was
shampoo, but this was in the bathroom in large dispensers fixed to the wall. I suppose
they are saving costs. I didn’t take any thing from the fridge; there was
nothing there anyway. Sometimes they gave me an actual key. This was the case of the International in Nagoya. It was mildly
inconvenient. On the other hand, it was nice to be reminded of the past, when
people carried keys to open doors. It made a nice weight in my pocket too. That
hotel had gleaming gold buttons in the lift, more retro touches. There were
newspapers in the lobby for sale and cabinets of ceramics. Perhaps because I
booked late I was on the eighth floor. I wonder if there can be any choice in
floor level when booking?
The hotels offered a level of courtesy that was often superfluous to the hotel’s price. Bowing was common and many times I was given polite assistance to my enquiries. I tried not to be a pest but sometimes I enjoyed walking through the hotel lobby late at night. I wanted to see who was around. Sometimes prostitutes hang around outside hotels, but I couldn’t see any. It was only in the convenience in Nagoya that I met a lady I who I’m sure was a hostess. Just from the way she was dressed and her manner. But you can never guarantee these things.
Not only is the marriage rate among young people falling, the divorce rate is rising. To make things more complicated, the cases of remarriage is on the increase, with people going into second or third marriages, having children again and living with second or third partners, or having children extra-maritally.
What other social trends are on the rise? I saw a greater amount of tattoos on young people this time. And some anti-social behaviour, such as bad language and spitting that was somewhat disappointing to see. Smoking is still accepted in most places, but is carefully controlled in specially designated smoking areas. On the Shinkansen, there are standing capsules with a sliding door to access them. Only in the very expensive green cars is it possible to smoke in your seat. The trains are fast and clean and they connect all the big cities but the luxury might not be as much as you would expect. Most of the tables are no bigger than the trays you have on airline and there is not much room for big cases. Tellingly, the JR pass that allows foreigners the option to use the trains for 7, 14, or 21 days, does not give access to the faster services, conveniently reserving these services for the Japanese almost 100%. When I took the faster service from Osaka to Tokyo, I was clearly the only foreigner on board, while on the far slower stopping service, I had to jostle through backpackers and families with crying babies. The food cart cheerfully pushed through the carriages (I didn’t buy anything – too expensive), whilst most platforms dished out bento boxes. People queued up at the stations to reserve seats, while in the unreserved cars it was often standing room only.
A cheap bento box, bought at Osaka station. I thought the Shinkansen would be out of this world, but it was sadly very ordinary.
Wherever I went, people seemed to be on the move somewhere, even before the big cherry blossom season. Restaurants were full and the only time I didn’t have to wait was in the fast food burger places and cafes. There are now foreign workers from Vietnam and Nepal in many restaurants. The government is currently making plans for 40,000 temporary foreign workers, never mind what it will do to Japanese society. Even though it wasn’t what I wanted, I underwent the charade of speaking Japanese with them. At the best restaurants, the staff were always 100% Japanese – these were far the best. Not only was the service better, the experience seemed to be that much better for being in Japanese. It’s convenient to be a solo diner as most restaurants offer counter service.
Women go to work dressed in high heels and dresses far more demure than anywhere else I have seen, making the Tokyo metro a perfumed paradise for the voyeur. There are hostess bars in all the big cities, offering services by the hour. There are plenty of opportunities for dating; you just have to look around. In fact, there seemed to be women everywhere just waiting to be approached, ready to be swept away by anyone who dared to try. At night-time things became more sexual, with dozens of girls bars and women standing outside soliciting passers by inside. There is some controversy as to what these venues provide. With prices as high as 5,000 yen, it’s hard to imagine they are just for talking. It may be that the charge covers the cost of drinks, but not sure. On numerous occasions softly spoken elder women who were trying to offer me various services, which I reluctantly declined, however much I wanted to partake, approached me.
The cost of living in Japan is high for Asia, but not exorbitant, you can get around easily for 50 dollars if you eat simply. It was travel and accommodation that put the biggest hole in my budget, and with just a few hundred extra pounds I could have done even better.
Some of the things I did seemed to be overpriced, such as paying to enter castles and gardens (where they would be free in London). It was something I did grudgingly; whilst it was great to be able to access free toilets everywhere. Hotels were reasonable considering the services provided. I made a point of accessing the free breakfast at the Nest Hotel in Matsuyama and it was excellent, but I could only eat half of it. Sometimes the beds in these place were uncomfortably hard, in others they were more luxurious. Probably the most disappointing hotel I stayed in was a branch of Toyoko Inn around Nagoya station. For some reason the hotel chain has become one of the biggest in Japan (there are some in Korea too) for providing reasonable rates and a free breakfast. Unfortunately, almost everything about the hotel was second rate. I found out there were limits of tolerance to my bad habits. I was told that I wasn’t able to have breakfast in my dressing room, despite being the only guest at the time.
I enjoyed Mystays Premier Hotel, a new range of business hotels. The hotel near Narita was extremely comfortable, with a pool and spa. It even had a 24-hour convenience store on the first floor. My budget forced me to stay in several hostels. They were like echo chambers for germs, with nasty coughing and sneezing preventing anyone from ever sleeping properly.
Sadly, many hostels are simply dingy, crowded and full of anti-social people uninterested in each other.
My most Japanese experience was at the site of First Airlines in Ikebukuro. Everything I had heard about the world’s first virtual airline made me convinced that I would love it and it proved to be so. From the entrance where they used ambient airport sounds and used monitors to show where the plane was heading, it was an immersive piece of conceptual theater up there with Punchdrunk. I ‘flew’ to Paris, having been unable to secure some of the other options Helsinki and New York.
The check-in desk at First Airlines.
Every new place I went had different candy that I saw in the food halls of the department stores. I lost track of most of it. Many were a kind of sweet bean filled bun known as mango that was pressed into a particular shape. In the Island of Miyajima they were maple leaf shaped. Sweets from Hokkaido were made using butter. Nagano offered highly unusual apple rice crackers – the first time I had seen anything like that.
Japan has the most impressive range of snacks of any country I have visited.
Some of the best food I had was in unlikely places. The cookies from the Aunt Stella shops were superb: buttery and crispy and with some creative flavours, I found branches outside Nagano and Matsuyama stations, the latter is most charming, with waitresses wearing headbands and blue aprons. Really what you find is that every place has a speciality, one thing that they are good at if a shop sells cookies, they aren’t going to be messing around making brownies as well. You can find English bars, or very good attempts at trying to imitate them as much as possible. The idea of being able to drink freely without partaking of food is so radical that many go there just for the novelty of it. There are bars where you only have room to stand. Then there are those bars targeting an exclusive male audience – known as ‘Girls Bar’, they charge a cover fee, and are staffed by attractive young women wearing various stimulating outfits. The one I visited was open early, and I was fortunate to be the only customer there. You pay per half hour, and they give you an electric timer showing how much time you have left. It’s not really sexy; it’s more about some female attention. Of course, you could go to any normal bar and try to get female attention, but there’s a possibility you would be bothering someone. Paying for this service seems to be part of the appeal, but the idea of forking up money for nothing but chat put me off going for a repeat visit.
The famous Aunt Stella’s outside Matsuyam JR station.
Numerous people have thought that Japan’s sexualisation of young women is a sign of something wrong with Japanese society. But on the other hand, it’s a way for these young women to make some decent money while they are studying. And what the hell is wrong with that? Many men would do the same if only they had the chance.
The more time I spent in Japan, the more I felt that it was
like a perfect society where everyone has their role and knew how to perform it
expertly. People often like to point out that Japan is a land of contrasts –
young and old, ancient and modern. But then, when you go there, these things
are not so much contrasts as part of one big palette.