So there I was, in the Islands of the orient, with no idea how or why I had got there. My mind was blank, it was just yesterday.. or what seemed like yesterday that I had just signed up for a new course in sexology for the university. It was a profound irony.. what would a virgin know about sex? People wondered that, but I just smiled. I read a lot, and that was it. I had never felt the same experiences the books I've pored over described.
And so I was here. In Malaysia. At 18. No money, no food, and my clothing completely soaked. Walking down the streets, I heard murmurs of "gwailou"-the Chinese word for devil man. I didn't mind, I was as soaking wet and dirty as one. Walking for awhile, I came across an inn, it had a sign with miniscule kanji handwriting. I could barely understand Chinese, let alone read it. I walked in, calling for asylum, the first word that came to my mind.
It looked like an inn, but the main lobby was covered in fluffed pillows and rug, kneeling in front of a candle was an oriental woman, who looked to be thirty-some years of age. "Come in!" she said in fluent English. I walked in, looking around nervously for a place to hang my coat. The woman gracefully stood up and turned to me. I was in shock, she was at least fifteen years older than me, but her slightly-open silk embroidered robe revealed parts of her voluptuous breasts and thighs, and her long slender feet took her to where I was.
As I stood there ogling at her, I wondered what she made of me. Here I was, a 16-year-old Mexican boy who was dirty and disheveled. Although I had the stature and physique of a man, my face still belied my young innocence and inexperience.
