I had been globetrotting for fun and business for decades, home or abroad my libido urged me into adventures prior, during and after my marriage, often with my partner's active approval and participation. I had been faithful to the four great loves of my life: Laura, Geneen, Candy and Yumiko, but between each relationship I had roamed considerably. A very happy hunting ground had been the major cities of the Far East. After my divorce the centre of my sexual universe eventually settled on Tokyo, more specifically Roppongi, a kaleidoscopic neon lit multi-tiered bar and restaurant district close to the western embassies. It was frequented by myriad foreign nationalities and enthusiastic if barely fluent English speaking Japanese. Then I discovered these petite, demur females were curious to know if the fabled 'white willy' was so much more formidable than the local yellow variety. When I wasn't working, drinking, avoiding Philippina prostitutes and Philippino ladyboys or chasing adorable Japanese nymphs I also discovered the depraved erotic world of Nippon Porn, with degrading new extremes of Bondage Domination and Sado-Masochism, and their wonderful Bukkake movies. This was some years before it was exported to the wider world. I had always been incredibly stirred watching facial cumshots, whether it be a porn movie or my own climax on a willing upturned pretty female face.
The Japanese always seemed to develop themes to an extreme and their porn industry was no different. One evening, in a sex shop with personal video booths I discovered it shared and fed my sordid fantasies. The highly formalised multi facially deposited 'Super Produce' Bukkake movies were my new best friends. Once an uber polite shop assistant helpfully handed me a wanking cube for use in my cubicle. The spongy pink block was about three inches across with a hollowed out orifice for your convenient insertion. Once the cellophane wrap was removed the spongy interior was moist. I tried it but the wanking cube wasn't for me, I preferred my own hand to tease myself on the brink of orgasm for the duration of the movie, which could feature dozens of male ejaculations over the willing or sometimes bound and gagged unwilling kawaii (cute) face of the AV (Adult Video) model. I often emerged with a sore dick and a strained wrist.
Later I stumbled into a magnificent dividend to sex in Japan when I realised there was a whole new demographic that was sexually wanting and side lined in the milling cross cultural pick up bars. The majority of western businessmen were chasing all these Japanese lovelies, but the small population of expat women fervently did not fancy the Japanese male. Professional western women formerly used to commanding male attention in their homelands were unaccustomed to life on the periphery of the meat market. My sparkling new strategy yielded conquests with various Scandinavians, Brits and Yanks.
I particularly recall my own magnificent bukkake finale moments with a white-blonde Finnish air stewardess, and a night of bondage with an English dancing girl. At 4am and non too sober, I was making my way down the hill from Roppongi crossroads to my Hotel in Akasaka, the forecast typhoon had come in from the Pacific and hit Tokyo whilst I had been partying in Motown, my favourite bar in the world. Torrential rain like you never see back home made visibility appalling, and within minutes I was drenched, a word that is partly a translation for bukkake. It was like walking in a power shower and as I progressed down the slope with poor visibility and onto the slippery pavement gradually I saw a tall slender woman up ahead. As I caught up she staggered wildly in her heels, her head was unprotected and her hair was plastered to her skull and neck, with long strands stuck across a pretty face, if she had worn makeup earlier in the evening it had long been washed away. She was utterly soaked in rain and booze.
I asked if she was okay, and offered to help her. She was a Brit and we shared my jacket as an improvised umbrella, one of my arms holding the jacket the other around her shoulders. We crossed over a footbridge and as the jacket slipped off our heads she turned and kissed me, full on, passionately under stair rods of Pacific Ocean water.
A few meters on and I steered her into a narrow alley and in a tight embrace we kissed deeply again, and I touched her breasts. It was incredibly sexy, in darkness, under all that rain, and as she was so responsive I fleetingly considered taking her standing up then and there. But the promise of something special urged me to get her home and see what developed.
My holding back paid off, because when we reached her apartment building she invited me in, through the lobby, paddling wet shoes up the stairs to her miniscule bedsit, which was not much bigger than a capsule hotel room.
I said something about taking our wet clothes off, and began undressing her. Her clothes were small and thin, undressing was more akin to peeling off skin. She complied like a child being readied for bed, raising her long arms for the removal of her top, and letting me turn her around to release lovely, perfectly symmetrical smallish, firm breasts. I stood her up and stroked the sides of her body, over a long narrow waist and then undid her tight wet jeans.
I pulled the jeans over narrow but shapely hips, this girl was in great shape, toned and slim. I eased her onto the bed, took off her high heels and eventually removed her jeans.
I quickly stripped and dumped my sodden clothes on top of hers in a growing puddle on the floor, and kissed her again before I removed her panties. These were as miniscule as her room and completely out of character I pocketed the black g-string panties.
Once naked my skin felt tinglingly fresh, it was only then that I learned her name, Dawn Bonus, and Dawn was gorgeous. She was much taller than my usual partners and didn't have any excess fat on her at all - slim, long toned limbs, narrow waist with perfect curves. Her whole body was firm to my exploring hands and when I complemented her figure, she simply said, 'I'm a dancer.'
We romped around her bed kissing passionately and caressing - well drunken groping in reality, my head was intoxicated with the excitement and the booze. Then she sucked on OG and gently bit down on him. Suddenly alerted out of my dizzy reverie I realised that something a bit more than vanilla was on offer.
I moaned as she mouthed OG and then asked what her fantasies were. I ran through a little list as she continued sucking and closing her teeth half way down my very firm shaft, I was not quite as drunk as her and OG was well up for it. After shaking her head rejecting fantasies of lesbianism, anal sex and urolangia I whispered bondage, and still holding OG in her teeth she nodded affirmation and writhed her body against my legs. Hey presto her ankles were tied together with dressing gown cord and her hands were behind her back tied with my belt, and then she asked to be spanked.
I had a great time with this tall flexible dancer, lots of positions, she was the only woman I was successful in tying her ankles behind her neck, and with her wrists to the headboard her lower body was upturned, spread and utterly exposed. Her body was designed for this, I thought as I licked and fucked away, the first was very easy and enjoyable whilst the latter was tricky to get my balance and position right. It was worth the physical effort, holding that position, which allowed wonderful long, deep thrusts, slowly withdrawing entirely before re-entering again. And between grunts, how she met those thrusts! With what little freedom of movement she had her pelvis pushed up every time I pushed deep. OG was at his rock hard best and slightly desensitised from his own alcoholic fug; we were in for a long session.
It was even more fun when she was spread eagled and stretched and I whacked across her torso with my belt. After leaving a couple of small welts, I asked if she was working tomorrow, and what if I left marks on her body.
'I'll use make up to cover them,' she explained.
At one point I sat on her face, facing her feet and whacked her pussy. There were lots of gasps during our play but the only verbal response I got was when I asked her if she wanted to be hit with the buckle end or the belt end. I must have been more drunk than I realised to have even thought of the question. Anyway she breathlessly whispered 'Belt end' and she was saved from worse savagery as I merrily applied the belt the right way around, thank god.
After a while I dozed off next to her helpless but uncomplaining form, awakening later to release her so we could crash out properly.
When the morning sunshine lit the bedroom, and the din of Tokyo's ubiquitous large black crows announced a new day, Dawn was still asleep next to me, so I stroked and kissed her awake, and then went down on her for a while, alongside her body as she held OG with her left hand. She had a Brazilian pubic hair style and a nicely shaped vagina - no piss flaps or surrounding fatty tissue. She tasted good too as her clitoris and vulva responded to my tonguing.
She was very compliant as the lovemaking developed as I entered her, then moved to side on and finally from behind when she climaxed biting into the pillow. I didn't cum but was getting tired and sweaty I rolled off and we both crashed out again.
Perhaps an hour or two later I re awoke, and again kissed her and stroked her elegant motionless body. OG was in the form of his life as I motioned her legs apart and mounted her again, and for a few minutes she moved and pressed beneath me. Then I propped myself up a little and kissed her, her eyes had been open but at that moment I saw them focus. OG was sliding in and out gently but I slowed down as I looked into those suddenly focused grey eyes. Her pussy was wet but her pelvis stopped the involuntary movements that had met mine.
'Are you Okay?' I asked.
She nodded yes, but her expression seemed more confused than aroused, so I withdrew. Momentarily the pervert in me considered finishing myself onto her, but there was something wrong, it wasn't any physical discomfort that was bothering her, it was waking up, becoming fully conscious with a complete stranger on top of her.
I accepted that I'd had my bonus at dawn, so we snoozed a while and then talked for a few minutes, she had very little recollection of what had happened - even how we had met in the midst of a typhoon.
She did agree to see me again, and we did four days later for a meal. She spoke good Japanese and was quite a nice woman actually, when sober. There was no chance of a second night of passion with her though and I didn't push it. I also returned her G-string. Quite why I took it baffled her and me; I am not a souvenir collector and didn't want her to think I was an oddball.