Surprise Cum Slut 1

When I was 29 I was living in Tokyo and working for a Japanese ad agency specializing in foreign-language export advertising. Living in Japan I quickly learned that most people wrongly believe the Japanese are sexually inhibited simply because they are reserved, quiet, and often shy. Not so. Unlike Americans, the Japanese are not burdened by the ill effects of Judeo-Christian guilt. They are far from sexually repressed.

Japanese are however, inhibited by the broader notion of "what will others think of me." Japan is a giant anthill. All the ants are paying very close attention to one another. And generally speaking, they all think alike. The society is incredibly homogeneous. Fads spread overnight. While living there I would suddenly discover some obscure thing -- for example the frill-necked lizard -- which would suddenly appear everywhere as if out of nowhere --on TV, billboards, advertisements, posters, students' notebooks and so on. None yesterday. Everywhere today. The same is true of rumors and gossip. Fads spread like wildfires in Japan.

The Japanese are really concerned about the spread of rumors and gossip about them. Rightly so, if someone in your circle of family, friends, classmates, or colleagues learns something about you, they will all know it. So Japanese are not burdened by religious guilt, but they are concerned about societal awareness. So, a woman who would like to be sexually adventuress might inhibit her behavior because she would be branded as slutty by family, friends, classmates, colleagues or whatever group she belongs.

Most Japanese tend to be very secretive about their uninhibited activities and very likely to have a very different approach with people who cannot out her to anyone else in her inner circles. Likewise, they are restrained in publish lest someone in their inner circles see what they are doing. But behind closed door, they are not prudish, inhibited, nor modest.

So, what may look like an uptight, virginal woman could be a wild, insatiable tigress once you have her alone. Many such women are looking to release their inner slut but will not risk being branded as one by their family, friends, classmates, or colleagues. And will do so when they know there is no chance her escapades might be discovered by them. And they are very, very cautious about this. Their best chance is when on foreign vacation or simply traveling to a different city in Japan where no one knows them. I learned rather quickly, as a gaijin (foreign) resident I was considered like a walking foreign vacation. I was assumed as safe as it is impossible that I know a random woman's family, friends, classmates, or colleagues. Better still virtually every Japanese woman has a fantasy about fucking a white guy. Life in Japan is like being a rock star and every female wants to be a groupie at least once.

The only drawback is the news about sexual violence in American makes the Japanese woman a bit reluctant. But if you can speak even a little Japanese, the fear disappears instantly. And since I can, I found that I could sleep with virtually any Japanese woman I wanted to separate from the herd with a brief chat. My success rate was definitely over 90% regardless of age, vocation or marital status. Something impossible to expect in the USA. But in Japan, simply ask and you shall receive. And I did, 2 or 3 times a week for three years.

But even more amazing I was approached 4 or 5 times by women who simply walked up and asked to fuck. That has never happened before nor after anywhere else. All these encounters went the same way. The woman approached me when I was alone and said in Japanese, "Do you speak Japanese?" I replied, "Yes a little." And that was enough to eliminate the fear. The next question was simply, "Do you want to have sex?"

However, all but one of these propositions happened with women who had been drinking. The encounters were either in a club near closing time which is about 11:30 as the last trains all leave Tokyo for the suburbs around midnight. Or it happened when I was on one of those last-call trains and a clearly drunk woman approached me and boldly asked for sex. I politely told all of them "no" with some excuse why. I did not want to wake up with a hungover woman who suddenly realized she did something she regrets. And it was unethical.

But then, there was this one time that things were different. Very different. I was on the next-to-last train on the Marunouchi line to Shibuya. I had to change trains in Shibuya to the local Inokashira line and travel just three stops to my home station of Ikenoue. With one or two trains remaining, it was not standing room only like the last train of the night often was. I took a seat. Directly across from me was a very attractive woman in business attire, a very nice matching skirt and jacket (perhaps Chanel) with a Hermes scarf added for flair. Classy. Then I noticed she had a Birkin bag. Rich too.

A Japanese woman of this status would not normally pay any attention to a gaijin in jeans and a leather jacket. But she noticed I was sizing her up and she returned my gaze and smiled. That is never done by Japanese of either gender on a train. Japanese do not make eye contact nor smile at anyone else on the train. Especially not a foreigner. They always remain eyes down and rarely speak even if traveling with friends.

When she smiled at me, I smiled back and nodded -- a gesture that Japanese do to simulate a bow of respect. She nodded back. The train stopped in Shibuya and the doors opened on my side of the train so I exited and walked to my change of platforms. I glanced back and discovered the woman was walking to the same train. I slowed my pace, so she caught up to me as I passed through the ticket turnstile. I decided I would speak to her and ideally get on the same train car.

I waited for her to pass the ticket-taker, and said with a smile, "Same train again," in Japanese. Knowing that use of Japanese would put her at ease.

She replied in formal Japanese, "Yes, it seems so," as we walked along the platform. I planned to follow her into whatever car she chose. Once seated, now side by side, I asked what station she was going to. She said, Inokashira-koen. That is the second-to-last stop on this line, a quiet suburban area near Inokashrira park and the Kanda River. Upscale and beautiful. Like her.

She replied, "And you?" I told her my apartment was in Ikenoue, only three stops away. She said "zannen" which means regrettable. I asked why, thinking she was looking down on my student-filled neighborhood. She said in Japanese, "Not much time to get to know one another."

Thinking this was very promising, I replied "we could go to Shimokitazawa" (which is a stop past my own) as they have a few after hours clubs there "and take taxis home."

She responded without any expression, "Or,we can have breakfast together," in Japanese.

That sounded like a possible offer to spend the night. Not at all something a rich, classy Japanese woman would normally say. In fact, it was a cliche man's pickup line in Japan. Perhaps she was so high-brow she didn't know that, and simply meant "lets meet for breakfast someday." I was betting otherwise when I put my hand on her leg and said in Japanese "I love that idea." It was an equally bold move on my part; as Japanese rarely, if ever, touch each other in public even if they are long-time lovers.

Again, without a hint of expression or irony, she replied, "Yes, I am always very hungry in the mornings."

This woman was not at all what she appeared to be. And my station could not arrive soon enough. Her calm approach to directing what was about to transpire was unnerving. I was used to Japanese women pretending (rather convincingly) that they were simply giving in to my seduction. This woman was openly directing the action.

We exited my train station together and started walking back to my place in silence. Frankly, I was feeling a little out of control. We passed one of the ubiquitous and amusing Japan vending machines as we entered an alley off the main street which was a short-cut to my apartment. Like many Japanese vending machines it had an absurd variety of things. This one had triple-A batteries, mini-size energy drinks, three-packs of condoms, single-serve sake cups, and those miraculous self-heating cup-of-noodle bowls. She leaned on the machine with her hand covering the condoms and said "do you need anything?" with a wry smile.

I said in Japanese, thinking I could still be more confident than her, "I don't need those, I have a vasectomy (a rather humorous word in Japanese that literally translates as "pipe-cut").

To which she replied, now in perfectly colloquial English, "Well then mister, why not fuck me right here!?" Apparently she was well travelled too.

I am not a man to back away from a challenge, so I said lamely, "Okay." I spun her around and reached up her skirt planning to pull down her panties and fuck her from behind right where we stood.

"NO!" she said firmly and turned back around. She looked up into my eyes with a wicked expression. She was about 5'-2" and looked up at me with intentionally semi-crossed eyes that reminded me of a Siamese cat we had when I was as kid.

Then she put one hand on my chest and sort of leaned on me as she deftly removed her panties with the other hand, stepping through them with skirt and heels still on. I then noticed the red soles of her Louboutins. Then she waived the panties in my face (La Perla) and put them in her Birkin bag like she had done this many times before. Perhaps she had.

She then returned to Japanese and said, "Do you like the shakuhachi?" The Japanese word for a bamboo flute that is also a vulgar slang term for performing a blowjob. I was dumbfounded.

Then she casually placed, what I now recognized as a $50,000 white crocodile Birkin bag, right on the dirty street, then dropped to her knees and unzipped my jeans. I was hard before she got my cock out of my pants. She took it in her mouth and bobbed on it like she really knew what she was doing and wanted a quick mouthful of cum. That was a step too far. I wanted to fuck this unusual creature. I literally tugged her to her feet and dragged her three blocks back to my home. She was laughing at me now, thinking I was scared of the public sex act. I wasn't. I wanted to fuck. All night if possible.

As it turned out, she was an absolute cum slut. No matter how we fucked or how I intended to come that girl wanted the finish with a mouthful of cum. I had never met a woman like her before. In retrospect, I wish I could have found out what prompted her cum fetish. But we did not spend much time conversing. So, I have no idea what prompted her obsession with sucking and swallowing.

As soon as we entered my apartment she looked around and said in English, "Put down your futon while I freshened up." I did as I was told. I opened the closet shoji, put my futon on the tatami, and unfolded it. She returned from my bathroom and said, "Do you have anything to drink?"

I grabbed a bottle and held it up to indicate that Japanese whisky was all I had. She waved a hand as if to say, "That will do, pour some." I poured a long shot into two rocks glasses without ice and brought them back to the futon. I shot mine. She set her glass on the tatami and then picked up where she left off in the alley. She wanted my cock in her mouth. I complied.

Somehow, I ended up naked on my back and she was still in her skirt, still sans panties, but now topless. I wanted to fuck her. I tugged on her thinking she would stop sucking and ride me. Instead, she moved all the way up to my head and straddled my face still in her skirt. That worked too. I sucked her clit until she came and then without pause, she was straddling my cock again and riding me like a champion rodeo rider. She came again, and I came with her.

Again without pause, she straddled my face again and demanded, "Suck the cum out! But DO NOT swallow it!" Again, I did as I was told. When she deemed my efforts sufficient, she dismounted my face and handed me her half-full whisky glass and told me to spit the cum in it. That made me a bit uncomfortable. But I did as I was told.

My cum floating on the whisky looked a bit like a raw oyster. She reached, out for the glass as if to say, "Give me my drink." I did. She did not shoot it. She savored it in three sips rotating the glass a quarter turn each time between sips, as if she was drinking matcha at a tea ceremony. Then she laid down next to me, took off her skirt and said, "I need to sleep." And fell deeply asleep immediately like a man post orgasm. Absolutely the most surprising and unusual woman I have ever met.

In the morning when I awoke, she was already up. She came out of the bathroom fully dressed. Without so much as a "good morning" she pulled back the comforter and immediately started sucking my cock. He was semi-hard from morning wood, but then fully hard in seconds.

She had great technique. I want to fuck again, but she clearly wanted to finish what she started. With a perfect combination of hand and mouth work I came in her mouth very shallow with her lips wrapped around his head with her hand wrapped around my shaft. She patiently let me finish my dry pulses and then swallowed my cum with gusto and licked her lips. Then she smiled and said, "I told you I'm always hungry in the morning."

Then she got up, grabbed her bag and prepared to leave. I said "No. Wait. At least let me walk you to the station."

She replied, "No need. I know the way. I just turn right at the condom machine," and laughed.

"Can I see you again?" I said now standing naked by my door.

"No, I'm married."

"But I can make time to be your lover whenever it works," I now half begged.

"I have one of those too. He and my husband are both out of town and returning today. I just need a gulp every day. Thanks." Laughing as she said it.

She used the word "gokkunis" which literally means "gulp" but it has become an incredibly vulgar Japanese word used only by men, that has come to mean "a cum gulp" and is typically applied to a prostitute that is hired to suck off multiple men at a stag party.

I was in shock.

She said bye and thank you in a polite form of Japanese as she departed without looking back. Sadly, I never saw her again. But I also realized that was just as well. She was way out of my league -- financially, daringly, and sexually.