Wednesday
Today is Wednesday, and that reminds me of “Wednesday”.
Let me tell you about her. There is a local drinking spot where a lot of foreigners are known to congregate and hangout. If a woman were looking to speak English with a foreign person or make some foreign friends this would be the place to do it. On this particular occasion however, it was Halloween weekend. And in Japan most women up their mid to late 30s dress up to go out for a night of debauchery. It is relatively new here. On this particular evening I just showed up but I’m not dressing up, so I stood out a little. And there was “Wednesday” with her group of friends, and she was not dressed up either. Because she couldn’t speak English she wasn’t really enjoying herself, as her two friends had already struck up conversation with other guys at the bar. It was so long ago I don’t actually remember who started the conversation, but I’m pretty sure it was me. She was relieved there was someone she could speak Japanese with, and we chatted until she had to catch her last train. (See my post about that).
We exchanged contact info and that was that for the evening. Over the next few days she texted me incessantly. As these things go, it started out rather innocent discussing hobbies, likes, and dislikes. Then she started to ask those probing sexual questions. The type of questions that you can run with if you have a mind to, or just let it go. A lot of Japanese women are notorious for being indirect. I knew this was my cue to see how curious she really was. The semi-sexual texts continued for a few more days and I suggested we go out drinking. At the time I lived in a place that was inconvenient for hosting and I didn’t have a car. She lived close to a station and suggest a place that we could go to drink. She chose the place and a time (on a Wednesday), and we met up.
After small talk and quite a few beers I realized it was close to time for my train. She suggested hitting up the convenience store for a few beers and drinking at her place.
She made it clear that nothing was going to happen. So we get our drinks head back to her place. Pop in a movie and finish off 3 or four more tall boys. By now it’s 1 or 2 and we are both getting sleepy. She makes me a palette on the floor, and we say goodnight. Sometimes you win, sometimes you go home with blue balls I thought. So I roll over to get some rest to catch the last train.
About 10 minutes I heard her whisper “are you awake?”
I reply in a normal voice, “yes I’m awake?”.
“The floor must be cold, are you cold?” “
“No, this palette is thick so it’s all good.” (At this point I know what she is hinting at, but I’m gonna drag this out, because she out a palette in the first place knowing that’s now where I was gonna end up sleeping. )
“The bed is warm, you can come in the bed if you promise not to touch me”
“You have to promise not to touch me either.”
I was still wearing my clothes because I was in a palette on the floor, but I didn’t want to get into her bed wearing jeans and a sweater. I tell her this and she tells me that it’s ok if I strip down to my boxers and t-shirt. I slide into bed and notice she smells nice. And I feel heat radiating off of her. Maybe it’s from the alcohol, or maybe because she wants me just as bad as I want her. But I still play it cool. So we’re laying there and she gradually turns on her side so she is partially laying on my chest. I don’t say anything but her thighs on my leg are burning hot. But I’m still a gentleman waiting to see what her next move is. She gradually grazes my dick with her knee as she is pretending to get comfortable. I wasn’t hard but I wasn’t soft either. That definitely got her attention. She tells me that she hasn’t been with anyone in awhile, but I am here, in her bed. And if I want to she is ok with it. “But only this one time”.
I call her “Wednesday” because I went to her place every “Wednesday” for about 3 years. I would go to her place, eat dinner, drink beer and fuck her brains out. Then wake up early to catch the train and bus to get home in time for work. Fond memories.
Let me tell you about her. There is a local drinking spot where a lot of foreigners are known to congregate and hangout. If a woman were looking to speak English with a foreign person or make some foreign friends this would be the place to do it. On this particular occasion however, it was Halloween weekend. And in Japan most women up their mid to late 30s dress up to go out for a night of debauchery. It is relatively new here. On this particular evening I just showed up but I’m not dressing up, so I stood out a little. And there was “Wednesday” with her group of friends, and she was not dressed up either. Because she couldn’t speak English she wasn’t really enjoying herself, as her two friends had already struck up conversation with other guys at the bar. It was so long ago I don’t actually remember who started the conversation, but I’m pretty sure it was me. She was relieved there was someone she could speak Japanese with, and we chatted until she had to catch her last train. (See my post about that).
We exchanged contact info and that was that for the evening. Over the next few days she texted me incessantly. As these things go, it started out rather innocent discussing hobbies, likes, and dislikes. Then she started to ask those probing sexual questions. The type of questions that you can run with if you have a mind to, or just let it go. A lot of Japanese women are notorious for being indirect. I knew this was my cue to see how curious she really was. The semi-sexual texts continued for a few more days and I suggested we go out drinking. At the time I lived in a place that was inconvenient for hosting and I didn’t have a car. She lived close to a station and suggest a place that we could go to drink. She chose the place and a time (on a Wednesday), and we met up.
After small talk and quite a few beers I realized it was close to time for my train. She suggested hitting up the convenience store for a few beers and drinking at her place.
She made it clear that nothing was going to happen. So we get our drinks head back to her place. Pop in a movie and finish off 3 or four more tall boys. By now it’s 1 or 2 and we are both getting sleepy. She makes me a palette on the floor, and we say goodnight. Sometimes you win, sometimes you go home with blue balls I thought. So I roll over to get some rest to catch the last train.
About 10 minutes I heard her whisper “are you awake?”
I reply in a normal voice, “yes I’m awake?”.
“The floor must be cold, are you cold?” “
“No, this palette is thick so it’s all good.” (At this point I know what she is hinting at, but I’m gonna drag this out, because she out a palette in the first place knowing that’s now where I was gonna end up sleeping. )
“The bed is warm, you can come in the bed if you promise not to touch me”
“You have to promise not to touch me either.”
I was still wearing my clothes because I was in a palette on the floor, but I didn’t want to get into her bed wearing jeans and a sweater. I tell her this and she tells me that it’s ok if I strip down to my boxers and t-shirt. I slide into bed and notice she smells nice. And I feel heat radiating off of her. Maybe it’s from the alcohol, or maybe because she wants me just as bad as I want her. But I still play it cool. So we’re laying there and she gradually turns on her side so she is partially laying on my chest. I don’t say anything but her thighs on my leg are burning hot. But I’m still a gentleman waiting to see what her next move is. She gradually grazes my dick with her knee as she is pretending to get comfortable. I wasn’t hard but I wasn’t soft either. That definitely got her attention. She tells me that she hasn’t been with anyone in awhile, but I am here, in her bed. And if I want to she is ok with it. “But only this one time”.
I call her “Wednesday” because I went to her place every “Wednesday” for about 3 years. I would go to her place, eat dinner, drink beer and fuck her brains out. Then wake up early to catch the train and bus to get home in time for work. Fond memories.
6 years ago