It's November 24, 1991 - a Sunday - a day of rest for those of the Christian-faith and, I suppose, atheists, Buddhists... hell... I'm sure there are more.... probably most people.... hmmm. Whatever! I didn't get to sleep at all last night thanks to Junko's snoring. Okay, it was more the slapping of skin and the grunting and squealing of pleasure at the top of her lungs even with me clamping a hand over her mouth to stop the neighbors from calling the police to investigate the gaijin murdering some poor young thing with his sadistic knife.
Okay... we were just having noisy, sloppy, wet and warm sex. I'm covered in it. So is Junko.
We're just lying there at around 8:30AM when something goes off in Junko (not me) and she snaps upright and says she has to leave soon because Ashley will be coming over.
How the hell does she know that? Does Junko have my phone bugged? Does she have Ashley bugged? What sort of evil genius am I banging three or four times an evening? Hopefully one who can barely walk.
Nope... she can not only walk, but she can jump, as she leaps from the bed and grabs her clothes from the carpet at the front door and gets dressed there. I get up and follow her and then stand there marveling at how sexy she looks getting dressed.
Guys... you have probably never really paid attention to what a woman does when she's getting undressed as you are just lying there thinking: "Hurry the heck up!", but ... I encourage you to watch a woman get dressed sometime - even one in a rush - watch the jumping, the rhythmic gyrations, the shimmying, the bouncing... it's truly poetry in motion.
Junko is a poet laureate and I have enjoyed reading between the lines.
Dressed, she leans in to kiss me good-bye. As her lips are about to touch mine, she slowly drops down to her knees while looking up into my eyes.
We don't have time for that, but she does a good job nonetheless.
It's 8:55AM when she stands up, reverts to a shy Japanese woman, bows, reverts to a clumsy Japanese porn star, bangs her head on my weenis, reverts to a shy Japanese woman, says sorry, stands up and covers her face with her hand and says "Good-bye An-dō-ryu-sensei."
That's me... the peaceful-leader-dragon-teacher.
The door closes, and I can hear her softly make her way down the spiral white painted concrete stairs beside my apartment.
I'm standing there naked and sighing inwardly when I hear foot steps tromping along the hallway to my front door.
Crap! It's Ashley! My ex-girlfriend with whom I am allowed to sleep with when she deems it necessary for herself - we're supposed to go shopping for antiques in Nikko today.
I am so tired... maybe I can make an excuse to not go... and if I can stay here by myself, I am sure Junko will use her spidey-sense and come flying back so that we can continue our marathon of degeneration. Marathon is a Greek town. I'm not tired enough to not do a marathon.
I run back into my bedroom as I hear Ashley insert her key into my lock. I slap on yesterday's underwear and walk out yawning to greet her.
As I lean in to give her a kiss, she pulls away suddenly.
"What's that smell all over you and all over the apartment?"
"What smell?" I ask honestly. I may have a large nose, but it's not known to be able to perceive much of anything. Regardless... it has its uses.
"Did you have some woman over?"
Crap! Need an excuse now, brain!! Hurry!
"Ummmmm..."
That's the best you have?! Crap! Doomed! Dooooooooomed!!!!
"So who was it? Some Japanese woman you picked up at the 4C?"
I nod quietly with my eyes darting from side to side looking for some sort of defensive weapon.
"Anyone I know?"
"No," I whimper as it is obvious no weapon is nearby.
"Good. As long as it's not another AET (assistant English teacher) or someone who knows me."
Wha - ? Is she kidding me? I'm pretty sure everyone I've boinked is either another AET or someone who knows her or both. Hooray for me. It's the problem with being a semi-famous gaijin in a small town. Big fish in a small town any day, baby.
"Everybody knows you, Ash."
"No," she corrects. "Everybody knows you, and thus people know of me."
She goes up on her toes to kiss me.
Okay... I'm up too... just not on my toes.
I think all of that sex in the air is contagious.
An hour later, a very dehydrated Andrew who is badly in need of a shower to wash off the sex scent of two women is happily riding with Ashley, first to the bank and then to the train station in Nishinasuno-machi.
It's weird (or not)... but the scent I have all over me seems to keep all of the guys away from us on the train... but is instantly recognizable by every single woman on the planet for some reason. It also made myself incredibly popular as some sort of sex god, and also made Ashley popular as the woman who made the sex god happy. Poor Junko lives on in anonymity.
For the first time ever, people begin talking to Ashley on the train while completely ignoring the contented me.
If this were a movie, it would fade to black with a locomotive entering a tunnel.
It's only 10:30AM. The day continues...
Somewhere I stink,
Andrew Joseph
Re: the image above... do you think 'polish the car' is an euphemism? You never know with writers! It's a panel taken from Marvel Comics' Teen-Age Romance #86 (March 1962 issue), written by Stan The Man Lee and what looks like art by Gene Colan and Vince Colletta.
Today's blog title is by the J. Geils Band:
Okay... we were just having noisy, sloppy, wet and warm sex. I'm covered in it. So is Junko.
We're just lying there at around 8:30AM when something goes off in Junko (not me) and she snaps upright and says she has to leave soon because Ashley will be coming over.
How the hell does she know that? Does Junko have my phone bugged? Does she have Ashley bugged? What sort of evil genius am I banging three or four times an evening? Hopefully one who can barely walk.
Nope... she can not only walk, but she can jump, as she leaps from the bed and grabs her clothes from the carpet at the front door and gets dressed there. I get up and follow her and then stand there marveling at how sexy she looks getting dressed.
Guys... you have probably never really paid attention to what a woman does when she's getting undressed as you are just lying there thinking: "Hurry the heck up!", but ... I encourage you to watch a woman get dressed sometime - even one in a rush - watch the jumping, the rhythmic gyrations, the shimmying, the bouncing... it's truly poetry in motion.
Junko is a poet laureate and I have enjoyed reading between the lines.
Dressed, she leans in to kiss me good-bye. As her lips are about to touch mine, she slowly drops down to her knees while looking up into my eyes.
We don't have time for that, but she does a good job nonetheless.
It's 8:55AM when she stands up, reverts to a shy Japanese woman, bows, reverts to a clumsy Japanese porn star, bangs her head on my weenis, reverts to a shy Japanese woman, says sorry, stands up and covers her face with her hand and says "Good-bye An-dō-ryu-sensei."
That's me... the peaceful-leader-dragon-teacher.
The door closes, and I can hear her softly make her way down the spiral white painted concrete stairs beside my apartment.
I'm standing there naked and sighing inwardly when I hear foot steps tromping along the hallway to my front door.
Crap! It's Ashley! My ex-girlfriend with whom I am allowed to sleep with when she deems it necessary for herself - we're supposed to go shopping for antiques in Nikko today.
I am so tired... maybe I can make an excuse to not go... and if I can stay here by myself, I am sure Junko will use her spidey-sense and come flying back so that we can continue our marathon of degeneration. Marathon is a Greek town. I'm not tired enough to not do a marathon.
I run back into my bedroom as I hear Ashley insert her key into my lock. I slap on yesterday's underwear and walk out yawning to greet her.
As I lean in to give her a kiss, she pulls away suddenly.
"What's that smell all over you and all over the apartment?"
"What smell?" I ask honestly. I may have a large nose, but it's not known to be able to perceive much of anything. Regardless... it has its uses.
"Did you have some woman over?"
Crap! Need an excuse now, brain!! Hurry!
"Ummmmm..."
That's the best you have?! Crap! Doomed! Dooooooooomed!!!!
"So who was it? Some Japanese woman you picked up at the 4C?"
I nod quietly with my eyes darting from side to side looking for some sort of defensive weapon.
"Anyone I know?"
"No," I whimper as it is obvious no weapon is nearby.
"Good. As long as it's not another AET (assistant English teacher) or someone who knows me."
Wha - ? Is she kidding me? I'm pretty sure everyone I've boinked is either another AET or someone who knows her or both. Hooray for me. It's the problem with being a semi-famous gaijin in a small town. Big fish in a small town any day, baby.
"Everybody knows you, Ash."
"No," she corrects. "Everybody knows you, and thus people know of me."
She goes up on her toes to kiss me.
Okay... I'm up too... just not on my toes.
I think all of that sex in the air is contagious.
An hour later, a very dehydrated Andrew who is badly in need of a shower to wash off the sex scent of two women is happily riding with Ashley, first to the bank and then to the train station in Nishinasuno-machi.
It's weird (or not)... but the scent I have all over me seems to keep all of the guys away from us on the train... but is instantly recognizable by every single woman on the planet for some reason. It also made myself incredibly popular as some sort of sex god, and also made Ashley popular as the woman who made the sex god happy. Poor Junko lives on in anonymity.
For the first time ever, people begin talking to Ashley on the train while completely ignoring the contented me.
If this were a movie, it would fade to black with a locomotive entering a tunnel.
It's only 10:30AM. The day continues...
Somewhere I stink,
Andrew Joseph
Re: the image above... do you think 'polish the car' is an euphemism? You never know with writers! It's a panel taken from Marvel Comics' Teen-Age Romance #86 (March 1962 issue), written by Stan The Man Lee and what looks like art by Gene Colan and Vince Colletta.
Today's blog title is by the J. Geils Band:
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