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Wednesday, February 29, 2012

My Girlfriend's Back

It's December 11, 1991 and it's 7AM. I've been up for about 15 minutes and am just about to shave.

I had been waxing non-poetically about Junko... my secret girlfriend who enjoys my sexual company but doesn't want to be my girlfriend.

If I had known 16 months ago in Toronto that life in Japan would be simple and fun, I would have laughed in your face - it's an alien culture,  I don't speak the language, and I sure as hell don't know how to cook, clean, do laundry. I've also dated a few women, but I haven't been able to convince any to sleep with me.

And then arrived here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan back in August of 1990. While the culture of Japan is different, it's hardly alien, and I enjoy discovering things every day. I'm working on the language thing, but I'm not very good at it. I know how to do laundry, clean, shop and can cook a few meals - enough to satisfy my hunger pangs anyway.

Women - I've been in like Flint. It's been ridiculous. Can this many people in Japan either find me attractive or interesting? I have no clue, what it is. But I better get the getting while the getting is good.

Which brings me back to Junko. I'd suggest the refresher course written HERE to bring you up-to-date.

I'm not in love with Junko, but I do really like her. I'm not in love with anyone. Maybe not even myself. I have no idea what I'm thinking these days. It makes for interesting times, to be sure.


I wonder for half a second who on Earth it could be, as I quietly sneak up to my peep-hole on the front door... but before actually looking through, I smell it. Apple blossoms.

It's Junko. I smile inwardly and outwardly, and I swear a part of my twitched involuntarily in excitement at meeting her again and again. (Did I spell that correctly? Note to self - check later before publishing)

How strong must that shampoo of hers be if I can smell it through my metal front door and paper-thin walls?

It's like ambrosia... and I feed hungrily at her altar.

She's sexy and stylish... a sharp dresser when I get to see her with her clothes on... which is not now, as I have just let her into my place less than 10 seconds ago, and she has already stripped down to total nekkidness and has her arms and legs wrapped around my erect posture as she thrusts her tongue maniacally into my mouth probing my thoughts like a Japanese porno cartoon tentacle.

I'm only human (mostly), and a heterosexual man, so I do what any guy would do in my place - I break our lips apart and ask: "What are you doing here?"

(Oy vey! 2012 Andrew, who has his own female issues, can't believe 1991 Andrew is such a schmuck).

Just so you know, having been a virgin until I was nearly 26-years-of-age, I have a very muscular right forearm, that may or may not have been developed from years of playing the accordion. I have dreamed about doing all of the nasty things Junko have done previously. No strings attached, through the occasional rope has been. Not my idea, but have always enjoyed going with the flow... however....

Stunned by Junko's stunned look, I repeat myself: "What are you doing here?

"It's Wednesday, and you are supposed to be at school (Junko is student at the University of Utsunomiya and wants to be either an English teacher, a porno queen or a housewife).

I'm confused/concerned - and apparently pragmatic - and want to make sure she doesn't give up school to be with me. We can do both.

"I'm taking the day off to be with you," she smiles with soft supple lips and dark brown eyes. If you never seen eyes dance ballet, I highly recommend it. Graceful, elegant. Leaping... basically, it's breathtaking. I've never seen a ballet, however, a hot friend did show me a clip once, so I do believe that qualifies me as an expert.

Now maybe I've been screwed around by women - and not in a good way - but while I certainly do believe Junko, I wonder about her timing. It doesn't stop me from screwing her brains out. Twice. Before taking a break.

Whack! Smack! I beat myself up. Yet another woman is using me for sex and doesn't want me for a boyfriend! What is wrong with me? Nothing, obviously. So what is wrong with these women?

I suddenly remember that I was supposed to go in to Ohtawara Chu Gakko (Ohtawara Junior High School) and teach today. Crap! I'm two hours late! (I like to take my time).

I swear out loud and tell Junko: "I have to make a phone call!"

"Silly Andrew,"  she mews like a naughty kitten unwinding a ball of yarn. "I already called the kyoikuinkai (board of education) for you.

"I knew you would be busy as soon as I arrived."

"You-you did?," I stammered... or did I stutter?

She grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

If any of you have ever read Garfield, you would know just as I do, that you can never trust a smiling cat... even one that is lying there lying naked beside you all sweaty and sticky and trying to bite your right nipple.

"What did you tell them?"

"That I had come taken a day off from school and wanted to see you."

"..., " I thought to myself.

"They aren't coming to rescue you, Andrew."


"I mean, there's no need. I'm fine."

She certainly is, I think as I stir from my position and pull her on top of me... mostly to stop her from nipping at my nipple. Okay... I know all of the women I've been with seem to like this sort of abuse, but I can take it once or twice and then leave it.

After more physical abuse of epic proportion that once appeared in letter form in a 1996 edition of Penthouse, we took a break.

I was hungry, and man can not live on Junko food alone. 

Expecting Junko to either pull some food out of some magic bad I did not see her come into my apartment with, she blew my mind...

"Come... let's go out for lunch."

Whaaaaaa—aaaaaaaat????" I asked with my voice getting higher on the second syllable.

You might think a Japanese sex kitten might not get my speech pattern joke, but she grabbed by testicular sac in her right hand and squeezed.

To quote Roger Rabbit: "Look, stars! Ready when you are Raoul!!!"

My eyes eventually rolled back to the front of my face allowing me to emit a thankfully low guttural growl of pain.

"I know you are making a joke of me never wanting to go out with you in public... but, Andrew... I want to."

Not wanting to screw up this opportunity, I instead asked: "What changed your mind?"

No-no-no-no! Why ask anything. Just shut up! She still hasn't let go of your gonads!

Looking down, I could see that the inner dialogue voice from the last paragraph was correct, as pulled down and then squeezed again in a whole new level of pain.

Wow! I'm going to have to buy her a leather suit.   

Idiot! She's already naked! Why do you need to cover her up?

Fortunately, I'm always right, and I pushed all thoughts of covering up her magnificent body with anything but myself.

And so... not getting answer to my last question, and afraid my secret-girlfriend would go nuts if I asked again, I got dressed quickly so that I could watch Junko dress. She knows I like to do that (with her), and actually did not start until I was ready to watch.

I want you to know that I never actually verbally communicated that I enjoyed watching her get dressed - but she knew.

While not quite finishing each other's sentences, we were at least on the same page of the book.

So we got dressed... and went down the elevator of my apartment building and as I walked towards the downtown food and entertainment core that was a three-minute drunken stagger to the west of my apartment - she stopped me and said: "Let's take my car."

Thirty minutes later in Kuroiso-shi north of Ohtawara-shi, we parked, and went into a noodle shop where we were welcomed loudly, seated in a corner and quickly served.

I paid - afterall, she drove and I insist on purchasing the meal of our first outside date.

After we eat, we get back into her car and drive. She's on the right side of me (she's driving).  I turn and face her and snake a left hand up along her jeaned leg and rub her zippered area.

"Pull over somewhere," I instruct her.

"No," she says as she slaps my hand away playfully. "We'll be home soon."

And lo and behold, we were back at my apartment, where a rehydrated Andrew and Junko made complete asses of themselves for a few more hours.

Ah... it's great to be with Junko.

It's now 4PM when she says she has to go.

"It's 4PM. I have to go, Andrew," she says.

I already new that a sentence earlier, but I stood holding her in my arms trying to think of something clever to say to make her never want to leave me again.

"...," I said. Bloody brilliant.

"I love you, too, Andrew," kissed Junko as she turned on heel and opened the door.
"I'll see you when you least expect it."

She needn't have added that last sentence. I knew that already.

As the door closed, my telephone rang.

"Moshi-moshi," I intoned and bowed into the telephone. Man, I've been here too long.

" - "

"Ah! Konichiwa Hanazaki-san. Kyo-wa o-genki desu-ka?"

" - "


" - "

"Genki desu."

" - - - - - - - - - - - - - -,  - - - .  - -  -  -- - ---- --- -?"

"Eh, nani?"

"---- - - - - ---- - ---- ------ - -! - - - -  - - - - ------."

Oh crap.

Apparently Junko did NOT call my bosses to tell them I would not be going in to work.

Still on the phone, I slide open the door to my north balcony (I also have a western one), I step outside in my barefeet wearing just a pair of white underwear and peer down to where Junko had last parked.

She's there leaning on the hood of her car with the cool wind blowing her hair in a sexy fashion.

She waves up at me and quickly glides into her car and drives off with her right hand out the top of the window waving - she without a backwards glance. 

"Hanazaki-san? Junko desu."

"Dame daiyo!" my telephone screamed at me.

Somewhere I've been had,
Andrew Joseph
Should you require a translation of the Japanese conversation I spoke with Mr. Hanzaki, here you go:
"Cease your panic, I am here to answer the telephone in a friendly greeting sir or madame."

" - "

"Ah! Hello Mr. Hanazaki. How are you today?

" - "


" - "

"I'm fine."

" - - - - - - - - - - - - - -,  - - - .  - -  -  -- - ---- --- -?"

"Huh? What?"

"---- - - - - ---- - ---- ------ - -! - - - -  - - - - ------."

and then...
"Mr. Hanazaki... It was Junko."

"Nooooo.... wa-ayyyy."

Today's blog title is inspired by The Angels who sing: My Boyfriend's Back for your enjoyment.


  1. That's weird. On last night's show, we played the Angel's "My Boyfriend's Back." No kidding. " I'm not in love with anyone. Maybe not even myself."... God, I can't tell you how many times I've thought this...

    I hate to tell you this now, but,... I think I've fallen in love with Junko!

  2. Hi Mike - Junko is crazy fun. She was easy to fall in love with - she had so much personality. Enough for two even.

    I love good coincidences! Is your show available on the Internet?