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Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Much Ado About Noboko - Rife With Noboko

Despite us both being busy over the next few days, Noboko still managed to find the absolute perfect time each night to call me.

Now... keep in mind that this is 1993, and neither of us had a cellphone, so I'm pretty sure she was actually calling me from her place 10 kilometers away, and wasn't actually spying on me to call the moment I arrived home... and I mean to the very second.

As soon as I turned the key in my apartment, I could hear the telephone ring. Fortunately, this is Japan and 20 years ago, and it is not uncommon to actually have a telephone ring 17 times before it is actually picked up.

At my house nowadays in Toronto, four rings, and off it goes to voice-mail. I had no options back then.

But, with Noboko... I was sorely glad I was allotted all the rings the she could muster.

After the debacle of our third date, where I hoped I would finally get to see her naked and have all kinds of soaking wet sex, instead, she fugged me over informing me that she knew I had got some other Japanese girl pregnant and didn't seem to care.

While it was always a possibility in my third year in Japan that I got some Japanese woman pregnant owing to a failure within a condom, but... if I knew about any sort of pregnancy, I sure as hell wouldn't ignore her.

Now... seeing as how I am a foreigner and must be lumped in with all other foreigners in my city of Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, I was surely guilty of impregnating half of Japan because I was a gaijin.

But, after a bit of research done by Noboko - at my urging - I was absolved of any 'wrong' doing... which means there was some female in Ohtawara other than my friend Matthew's girlfriend and family that I had not slept with. The code 'bro... the code.

So... every night, despite us having conflicting schedules... night school, teaching English on the side for obscene amounts of money, office enkai (party), school enkai et al... Noboko and I would talk in hushed, whispering, breathy tones.

I know of maybe six women, who could make my pants twitch with the sound of their voice, and every single one of them has a completely different tone and manner of speaking... so it's not one thing, but rather a whole lot of other.

We talked simple talk... nothing pant-tightening or panty-soaking in topic, but, still... there was a sexually-charged tension in the air... you could hear it crackle through the phone lines... making the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up... I love that feeling.

Or maybe it was a crappy phone line...

I don't even know what that feeling is... is it love? Lust? Severe like? Is it anticipation? Is it the memory of a kiss?

Whatever it is, it feeds me... as the wait between seeing her makes me want her all the more. Thank goodness it's less than a week... a few days, really, or I'd go insane.

So... shall I skip ahead a few days... and make it Saturday? Should I end the blog for the evening? Yeah, nothing happened, but... for me... the wait... the anticipation... the whole lot of masturbation... it was a tough time.

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was much ado about nothing... my favorite Shakespeare play... and perhaps his dirtiest.

How could I finally find someone I really, really want to have sex with... and then be denied because of circumstances?

Holy crap. It happened with Kristine, too! I should have married her the moment I met her that first evening ever in Japan. Noboko, too.

Actually... what I meant to write was that I should have screwed their brains out the moment I met them. Fricking circumstances always getting in the way of my lust. I hate propriety.

And so ...  I wait... listening to Noboko talk on the other end of a telephone... not really listening to what she says, but instead choosing to listen to the way she says it.

To quote Jim Morrison: Lost in a romance... wilderness of pain... and all the children are insane.

The end,

Andrew Joseph
PS: Don't worry... I already have the next blog on Noboko and I written for your writhing pleasure.

1 comment:

  1. Hahaha at the "P.S."

    Lookin forward to the next one Andrew.