It was a warm and rather humid day in Akihabara, and it was Chiho's turn to stand outside and hand out flyers for the café before lunch. She did her best to smile at the otaku and the gaijin tourists who accepted the colourful ads, even the ones who tried to surreptitiously take photos of her in her stylized French maid's uniform with their cameras or phones. She didn't love her job -- she would much rather have worked in a boutique or one of the second-hand clothing stores in Harajuku -- but options for 18-year-old Tokyo girls who hadn't passed their university entrance exams were limited. She'd heard rumours that one of her former classmates, Junko, was working in a soapland that (unusually) catered to gaijin as well as locals, and that Tsubame was a 'hostess' in a blowjob bar. Not that her older sister enjoyed working as an office girl, either.
Chiho looked up at a gaijin as he approached and accepted the flyer. He looked at it a little quizzically, then smiled.
"It's a maid café, upstairs," she explained. There were dozens in Akihabara alone; she could see one of her competitors barely a block away." Do you know about maid cafes?"
"You work there?"
"Yes."
"It looks interesting. Thank you. I may be back later."
*
Chiho was back inside the made café waiting tables when the man walked in again and sat at an empty table. He ordered the plain omelette rice, and introduced himself as Alan. His Japanese wasn't even as good as her English, but she was pleased that he made an effort, and at his request she drew a cat and some hearts on the omelette with ketchup. He had good manners for a gaijin, was better dressed than the otaku or backpackers, and was good-looking in a forgettable way. "Maybe I'll see you again later," he said when he'd finished his parfait and she told him his hour was nearly up, and he drew a card from his wallet. She glanced at it, about to tell him that she couldn't do that and he needed to pay at the counter, but found herself staring at the strange-looking card. The small hologram on the card looked very bright and rather strange, almost like some sort of starry tunnel to infinity.
"Oh, sorry," he said a moment later. "That's my ATM card, not my credit card. Where do I pay?"
Chiho blinked. She looked at the counter, and Alan nodded and returned the card to his wallet. "Sayonara. Maybe I'll see you later."
*
"You're supposed to be working, not dreaming," Karen, the manager rebuked Chiho an hour later, She spoke quietly, but with an edge like a Murasama blade. "If you can't concentrate --"
"I'm sorry," Chiho replied. After Alan had left, she was finding it difficult to focus on anything else.
"You're normally one of my best maids. I don't know what's gotten into you today."
Nothing has, Chiho thought, and suppressed a giggle. After all, that was the whole problem. She was still a virgin, partly because she still lived with her parents and partly because of the extortionate cost of birth control in Japan, but mostly because she'd never met anyone she'd really wanted to sleep with. She knew she wasn't gay, and she'd wondered whether she was asexual, until her sister had told her about demisexuals, who had to be emotionally attracted to someone before being sexually attracted to them. "I think they used to call that 'normal'," she'd added. "For women, anyway."
Chiho had found that reassuring at the time, so she was even more surprised now to have become distracted -- even fascinated -- by this sudden desire to be fucked in the ass. She'd heard of anal sex before, of course: she'd watched some hentai with her girlfriends, and she'd even heard that sex workers used it as a loophole, because Japanese law's definition of sex work was restricted to penis-in-vagina, so that anal sex, oral sex, handjobs and titfucking for money weren't illegal. But none of these activities had appealed to her -- until today, when she'd become as aware of her asshole as though it was talking to her, and it was all she could do not to slide her hand up her skirt and into her panties to touch it.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Hai!" Chiho nodded furiously. "So sorry." She glanced at the clock. Twelve minutes until she was due back on the street to hand out flyers before, and she hoped she could get through it without masturbating. She'd never found diddling her clit all that satisfying, and neither was the time she'd furtively borrowed her mother's Hitachi magic wand, but maybe if she also fingered her asshole with her other hand while she did it...
