I approached this girl on my third day of number farming in Japan. 23 years old, hot, she was dressed in grungy denim with a Nirvana t-shirt and told me she was a fashion model, working in Japan, Korea, France and Italy. The joke between us was that I was Harry Potter who’d magically jumped in front of her.
After we exchanged details on Line (the Asian WhatsApp) I sent her the Potter GIF. Because she seemed on with her reply I sent her a date request that evening.
She turned down the date request so I rolled off for 4 days as I had many other leads I was pinging plus I was also travelling between different Japanese cities. I gave her the ultimatum text of telling her I was leaving and that I wanted to see her before. Normally this is not good strategy but when you’re against the clock on a daygame trip you can do it as a last-ditch attempt to resurrect some flagging leads.
When I realised she was away for fashion work in Korea I thought that it was a dead end so I didn’t bother following up. I’d already gotten two notches on the trip by this point so I wasn’t that fussed. But yesterday evening she suddenly sprung to life…
My texting was blunt. I didn’t want to waste any more investment. So I just proposed a time and place, which she pushed back 90 minutes (a good sign as the later the better for first date sex possibilities.) A small frame concession is ok if it’s losing the battle to win the war.
Tonight was my last night of the trip, I’d already got my notches, so I turned up for the date with nothing to lose. She was there on time, wearing a leather corset type thing over a tight black top, black boots but tight jeans rather than a skirt. Straight away she said she didn’t want to drink alcohol which threw me off balance a bit.
As usual in Japan, her English was terrible. We used Google Translate on our phones for 90% of the communication. I walked her to a dark billiards bar I’d already chosen halfway between the meeting point and my apartment where we sat on a couch. She was standoffish and secretive, sipping her coffee while I had my beer. I got her to show me some non-modelling photos and I showed her some of my travelling pictures.
Verbal escalation was lost in translation, but I noticed that despite her seeming closed and shy, when I’d pull her in momentarily (the “Floppy Test”) she didn’t object, and when I got her to warm up my cold hands in hers she was more than willing to keep them there.
From the first venue we walked the short distance to outside my apartment. I had planned a second venue down the street (a cocktail bar) but my senses told me just to try and bounce her straight back. In Japan it’s been common for the girls I’ve dated to say yes to the bounce home without much of a pretext (even though the Token LMR begins later up in your apartment).
Inside we took off our shoes, I made some tea and she put on some Justin Bieber on my laptop (lose the battle to win the war!). Slowly I ramped up the kino from an arm around her to hugging, but she didn’t want to kiss and kept saying I was a “bad boy,” a “crazy boy” and she was a “good girl.” I went to the bathroom to give her space.
She was still sitting on the sofa smiling when I came back, so I moved the laptop to the bed opposite the sofa (it’s a typically tiny Japanese apartment) and beckoned her over. She just stood by the wall like a child having a pretend tantrum, her arms folded and a mock sad face. I got her to break her Token LMR strop by singing along badly to Bieber and doing the worst impression of him which she giggled to.
We hugged standing up, then I picked her up and dropped her onto the bed. She still wouldn’t kiss, saying over and over that I was a bad boy but at the same time hugging and grinding on me. This went on for ten minutes during which time I wasn’t sure which way it was going to go. “You walk me to train station” she asked meekly?
I rolled off. IOD for an IOD. I said I’d walk her back after I finished my tea. We sat on the sofa once again and she went back to her token tantrum, arms folded. It was clear she could go at any time but I could sense she didn’t really want to, hoping I would call her bluff. More hugging, a light kiss, then back to the bed.
Grinding, wandering hands, more moaning in Japanese, her hand down my jeans, me pulling hers off, then wild sex with almost all our clothes on. The weird and wonderful sex noises Japanese girls make are something else. It was a great smash.
Out of the three lays of the trip she was my favourite not just because of her model hotness (and rare height for a Japanese girl) but because she’d seemed like such a weak-maybe girl and I was proud of my reading of the micro signals. Spotting the tiny clues and calibrating to them can give almost as much satisfaction as the sex itself.
Goodbye Japan, it’s been emotional 😉