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Friday, September 18, 2015

Japan—It's A Wonderful Rife: A New Beginning

I have previously written about damn near everything thing I did during my three sojourn as a junior high school assistant English teacher in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

I was part of the second wave of JET (Japan Exchnage & Teaching) Programme folks who entered Japan in 1990, with the idea that we would all be teachers and the Japanese would learn to speak perfect English, by Jiminy!

I never thought that. I wasn't a teacher… I was a communicator… a trained journalist with one of the top newspapers in North America… and despite having only recently overcome my deathly shyness, I knew how to talk and how to make people around me feel comfortable.

As such, I had a pretty damn easy time of it in Japan… full of wacky, stupid, crazy adventures by myself, with other foreigners, and of course, with the Japanese themselves.

If you've ever read any of those diary of a wimpy gaijin adventures of mine—and you paid attention—I took the proverbial mickey out of the Japanese. True. But I also took the mickey out of myself.

The whole point of Japan—It's A Wonderful Rife is that the Japanese were regular dumba$$, loving, funny, intelligent people just like what one would find in whatever country you are from.

People are people.

So… I have re-written some choice selections, and from time-to-time, I may present a few stories here. Basically, I'm re-working things into book form.

Here, you lucky, lucky people is my introduction to said wannabe book… something that is meant to hook the reader. I think it works, but who knows.


The Ties That Bind
Her hands were tightly bound behind her back with the very same rope she had brought with her that evening—tied securely as the best I could, given the limited training she had purred at me.
My addition to her burgeoning orgasm had me stuffing her own sopping wet panties into her mouth to muffle her screams—not enough to choke, but deep just enough to dull any pronunciation. 

The panties were white. Pure as the virgin snow... about the only thing virgin about her. 
She was naked, of course. On her knees, but face down—the side of her head propping her up like a tripod.

My tongue hung out as I dragged a light trail of saliva starting from her backside up to the side of her neck pressing lightly against her taught light brown skin, what the uneducated would call yellow.
Her skin was flawless.

The only scars she bore were on the inside, as I was beginning to discover, but in all honesty I didn't give a crap at this point in time. 
Her 5'2" body was gorgeous—though all I saw of it right now was her back with her long straight jet black hair cascading down her head and past the tops of her shoulders and down her arms.
I was also offered up an uninhibited view of that gorgeous round butt of hers—a rarity, of sorts amongst the Japanese women. 

More crass men than myself often used the phrase "no tits, no ass, no interest", but with this bound specimen of womanhood, there was none of that.
She had a great ass and her C-cup runneth over with firm, round boobs and a dark—almost purple areola.
Her breasts looked even larger than they were thanks to her short but slender stature—and yet, I, despite my fascination, was no longer a boob man.
One can’t expect to be one here in Japan—even though I have been out with one or two women that do not fit the stereotype.
Who’s kidding whom? There is no stereotype here. Maybe I am.  

She was smart, charming, beautiful and oozed with sexual energy that radiated outwards like an atomic bomb. 

She possessed that rare stunning beauty that any man or woman (heterosexual or otherwise) might stare at wonder: "What the fug is she doing with a guy like that?” 
A guy like that, of course, is me.

But what the hell do I care? It’s not like people see us together.
It’s just the two of us in my bedroom. We’re never seen in public together—just behind closed doors.

But she's with me. I'm with her. She's naked on my queen-sized bed. Tied up. A more than willing partner. 

So I sidle up behind her—she has my full attention.

I calmly lean over her body, grab a handful of her long black hair that smells of sex and candy and pull it sharply as she squeals in exquisite pain as I bend her upper torso backwards and snarl:

"Is this what you want?"

She pants out something in her perfect English—but it's muffled thanks to those very yummy panties.

"I don't understand you!" I growl back and smack her ass hard with my right hand. 

She grunts in pain and pleasure. 

It leaves a mark—my entire handprint.

I know I have a heavy hand, but I am all too aware that whatever mark I leave, it will fade quickly. I know my own strength. I know my own weakness.

With her hair still gripped tightly in my left hand, I shift my body close up behind hers—we feel the electricity from each other as I force myself inside as she gyrates her hips. 

And so, I entered yet another part of Japan I never thought I would visit when I left Toronto a mere 14 months ago…  a nearly 26-year-old virgin now with double-digit notches on my bedpost daring to date a Japanese woman who could have been a supermodel or an F-1 race car driver. And all she wanted was my undying love and me.
This is my story as a junior high school assistant English teacher in a small city... a rural city in the north-central part of Japan's main island.
No… don’t worry, despite the childishness of some people, all the scenes with sexual innuendo or worse (or better – it depends on your point of view) are between consenting adults.
This story is not just about me screwing my way through Japan—despite initial appearances—rather it is about the relationships forged—some for the night, some for a while, some for my entire three years in Japan and beyond.
Yeah, yeah… I could tell you all about all my cool trips to see the temples and shrines and all about how much fun it is to teach kids English—and I will, but going to Japan as part of the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme in its very early days was all about internationalization… of Japan and of the visitor.
It is about inter-relationships (I was going to write ‘cosmic interplay’, but if I did that you’d know I was a pretentious douche bag, and I’d rather you knot {sorry} ‘not’ know that now). While my three-year sojourn as an AET (assistant English teacher) was certainly about the sex and candy with women - both Japanese and other—it is also about the friendships and acquaintances with those who crossed my long stride.

I'm going to tell you about those relationships, both good and bad, and where practical, I'll even relate some fun stuff about teaching English in Japan and checking out those temples and shrines. 

But, as my bound babe taught me—we're going to do it my way.

Or rather, as I later learned—we're going to do it Japan's way.
You won’t pee yourself laughing, but I can guarantee you will guffaw and maybe even snort with amusement when I'm not being serious. 

Have you ever read a book where the cover screams that its contents are "Hilarious", and you read the book and then you learn that most people have no idea what the word hilarious really is? 

This book isn't like that. It’s not hilarious, but it is funny.
Honesty is the best policy, and as such, I have changed the names of most of the people in this book, because even though I may not think that life is life – not everyone else is willing to fess up to that.

If you are familiar with the classic novel Moby Dick, then you will recognize that I have split up the chapters as such, alternating between: The True Story and The Real Background data on the sperm whale.
Is Junko my allegory for Japan and the whale, or am I the whale? The Walrus was Paul. I can hardly wait to find out myself. Why do I feel like a tuna sandwich?
Now… you may take those panties out of your mouth, behave, and let's see what happens.

There you go. Would that make you want to read more?
Monday… unless something more pressing comes up, I'll present Chapter 1 and how I was looking forward to going to Japan.

Don't worry… this is me… despite me being a straightforward guy, the true story won't be as straightforward.

And, should you want to read the original blogs about my time in Japan, seek out any that either have a Rock and Roll song title in the headline; are titled as Junko and Andrew blah-blah-blah; or Noboko And Andrew blah-blah-blah.

Each essentially depicts one year of my time in Japan... a growth and ruin and regrowth etcetera of  myself... but always honest and usually pretty damn interesting. 

Andrew Joseph


  1. I'm hooked. (I meandered here from the other blog.) Looking forward to Ch. 1 ...

    1. Good to see you here! Chapter 1 may seem like a let down, (fair warning) after all that in the INtro, but it's my journey... mmm and what a journey it was. LOL!