Warning
What your about to read is 80% truth, 15% exaggeration, 5% filling in the blanks of my alcohol fueled, testosterone driven youth.
In my youth I was fortunate enough to be a somewhat gifted athlete. My efforts early in life were rewarded by a professional playing career throughout Europe until, like most athletes who play contact sports, concussions forced an early exit. Long story short, I got paid reasonably well to travel the world and play my chosen sport of Rugby, prolonging maturity like on of the lost boys in Peter Pan.
This is but one of my many stories about all of the weird, mostly funny things that happened to me while experimenting with the world of being a hobbyist.
Japan is a wondrous place, full of fun and excitement around each corner. It was in Japan that I found myself fascinated all things kink and believe me, no where on planet Earth does their reside a freakier population than in Japan. One day before after morning sport, or practice for the non-Rugby world, I found myself fixated on the window of a local sex shop that had blessed passers by with the animated acrobatic boner shanagins for Manga Porn (sex with super-hero types with tentacles for arms). So there I was all alone and unprotected against the magical powers of Asian Persuasion when I was respectful approached by doe eyed Japanese beauty. Being a much taller than the average Japanese male, American, and possessing an athletic body type while negotiating with an “enjo kosai” (compensated dating) almost the same as having a key ring full of those department rewards cards that entitle you to in store discounts. In Japan most quality providers are outcall only.
Long story short I quickly found myself in the first Team Use hotel room (commonly used by coaches for meetings and trainer for physical assessments). This room in particular was not equipped with blinds in the windows, so with the lights turns out my new best friend and I playing hide the flesh weasel in the ticklish whisker on to of a Swedish message table (made in Mexico in a sweat shop by some Geraldo Rivera types) because that about the most American thing you can do while listening to the smooth sounds of Japans Shinto, Zen type music being piper into the room over the speakers of the conference room the size of a broom closet. I possess zero chromatic mental capacity (ability to keep track of the time of day) that was confirmed by the abrupt entrance of the Teams Head Coach into the room. Now the Head Coach was a burly beast of a man from Northern Scotland, who wasn’t the biggest fan of a curtain American who had already shamed the team because of a case of explosive diarrhea in an airplane bathroom…. don’t drink the water anywhere on the continent of Africa while traveling on an 18 hour flight to Argentina. It is at this time that I believe describing the physical attributes of the before mentioned Asian friend becomes a necessary party of the story. Mei was a dainty flower of a girl who stood only about 5 foot and being Asian you can reasonably assume that she was quite the spinner type. Now being an athlete all of my life, it goes without saying that I dwarfed new friend in size. You can almost say that while lying on her back on top of a message table with her feet on my chest she size mad her almost invisible to the failing eye of a 60 year old Scottish Rugby Coach further complicated by the lack of proper lighting of the room. Lets just say it would be very difficult to convince anyone observing the situation from that angle that I was doing anything other me tying to take my love of self to the next level while giving my love stump a proper workout before a coaches meeting, in a dark room, on top of a message table. The rest of the season was always very awkward any time I found a certain pair of suspecting eyes staring in my direction.
I’ll share more soon
Cheers
