It was a cold winter's day several years ago. I had not seen any action in a long time, I was in a bit of a dark place. It was 2:00 in the afternoon and I'd been drinking since 11. It was my birthday and come hell or high-water, I was going to get some.
This was back when my Japanese was several levels lower than it is now. If there were sites where you could dial up a partner like there are now, I didn't know about them. All of the soaplands in my little backwoods town were nippon-jin only. Sure, I knew of a number of neighborhoods that had streetwalkers after dark (some with a surprise penis at no extra charge), but at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, there just weren't many options.
Back behind the station in the neighborhood where the day-laborers lived in their 2000 yen per night earthquake death traps, I had seen some Chinese mama-sans trolling the street corners even during the day time. I decided to give that a try. I walked in a circles until finally one of them spotted me. She was old and wide and she latched onto my arm offering a mix of massaji and service. After confirming that she was not the provider, that were would in fact be a "young, pretty, Japanese girl"; and that honban was part of the offering, I let her lead the way. I was to pay her 20,000 yen and in exchange my shitty day was supposed to get a lot better.
I didn't go into this part of town very often so I didn't really know my way around. She led me up and across a couple streets and straight into the lobby of a decrepit business hotel. This place had not been renovated or cleaned since the 70's, you could barely see out the lobby due to the nicotine tint-job on the windows. The desk manager never even looked up when she walked in, gave the counter a meaty slap, and took the key with the two foot board anti-theft device that he threw her way. She led me into the elevator and up to room 501, a frigid shit-hole with questionable sheets on the bed. I'd already made a string of bad decision to get to this point so the next one, paying her in advance, seemed incrementally less bad at the time in my naively optimistic state.
She told me to wait and that there would be a girl sent up in five minutes. I proceeded to make myself comfortable by cracking open the single lonesome Kirin Lager that was in the fridge. There was no way to turn up the heat, the thermostat was either on or off, so to try and get some warmth in the room I turned on the hot pad for the single cup coffee maker. I tried to get some mood lighting but the curtains were so thin that even with them closed, it was brighter than a salad bar which highlighted all the cigarette burns in the carpet and for the first time ever I actually wore the slippers in a hotel room. I fiddled and I waited. And I waited. And I waited. And I began to realize I'd been fucked, and not in the good way. I started to wonder if this room was also going to cost me or if 20,000 yen was going to be my total tuition bill for this life lesson when suddenly, the door started shaking.
I jumped up and opened it and quickly retreated. I was hit with a big grin and bad teeth. And huffing, lots of huffing. Some puffing too, just exceeded one's preferred physical exertion limits style of puffing. And talking, but more like blathering, lots of sumimasens and a couple gomenasais made their way out of a mouth built for consumption. She barely came up to my shoulders but stretched out well past my elbows. There was no way I could put my arms around her and I would never get into a rowboat with this woman.
As she's taking off here shoes, which was difficult since she couldn't see her feet, my dick and my brain were having a massive argument in my head.
"We can't do this."
"But we already paid, and she's not that bad."
"She is that bad, and it's only money. If we do this the settlement will be in the currency of self-esteem."
"Maybe just a blow-job? That way we only have to see the top of her head."
It says something about how fat she was that it was only at this point that I noticed what would have been the defining feature on anyone else. Several months prior, in what was probably a failed attempt at misdirection, she had dyed her hair canary yellow. The canary had died in the mine shaft and now her hair was black from the roots and for about 6 inches, with three inches of neon tips. This, combined with her bright yellow jacket and scarf combination that she was struggling to remove in the too narrow hallway and my dick finally figured out who she reminded me of.
"Pikachu!"
"Fuck this! Abort! Abort!"
I felt bad, I really did. She might be the Pokemon from hell, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I told her, "Listen, you are a real pretty girl with nice hair, but I'm afraid you are just not my type. I'm real sorry, it's me, not you. I'm just too picky. I should have told the mama san." She seemed OK since I let her down gently, and there was no refund. She squeezed herself back into her shoes and off she went. A few minutes later I exited as quickly as possible, kept my head down as I passed the front desk, and booked it out of there for good.
Later in the afternoon I found a rub and tug shop and for 15,000 yen got to fingerfuck a probable sex slave while she gave me a hand job that left my dick so sore I had to wear my flannel boxers for a week.
