[MF] Osaka karaoke ends in love hotel

This happened in early March. Apologies for the length; I’m working through some things. For sexytimes, skip to the **bold part**.

I was coming back to Osaka from the Japanese countryside, where I’d been staying at a traditional inn. I didn’t have time to go to my place and drop off/pick up some things, which will become relevant later.

We’ll call her Mara. Mara is a Thai girl in her mid-twenties. She visits Japan semi-regularly for sight-seeing. She has long black hair, dark olive skin and wears deep red lipstick. She was dressed conservatively for the chill – black jumper, red skirt with leggings, nice heeled ankle boots. The thick winter clothes kind of hid her body type, but I found out later she had these curves that I really like combined with the slimness of Asian women. If you need a visual, I think [this girl](https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5d96ee4a7b2cc) is pretty close.

After meeting up in downtown Osaka, we agree on dinner, drinks and karaoke until the last train. We go for yakiniku first – Japan’s version of barbecue, where you cook your own meat at the table.
She is a super bubbly personality. I immediately took a liking to her because of how easy-going she was. And she gave no fucks about her goofy mannerisms. As she told me multiple times, “I will only be serious at work.” When she found out I spoke Japanese (I’m Canadian; also relevant later), she would randomly throw Japanese phrases into our conversation or give the classic “ha?” with a dangerously cute frown of confusion when she didn’t understand my English. And she would do it all in this weirdly low-pitched voice, which I was pleasantly surprised to hear. I think a lot of guys would probably be put off by it and find it too mannish, but I found it incredibly attractive. She was basically a sexy Asian weeaboo from another world.

There was a brief moment over dinner where we both clicked. In my mind, I was worried that she might be a ladyboy. To be clear – I have nothing against ladyboys. They just aren’t my cup of tea for dating, and I guess I was worried that she might reveal it as a surprise. Even if she was, I told myself at least I would have an interesting new friend. Of course, a few minutes later she *straight up asks me if I think she’s a ladyboy*. I was really surprised by her directness. In the past, that sort of question would probably have made me blush and stammer like a schoolboy, but now I just told her confidently that if she was a ladyboy, she would have put it in her Tinder profile or told me as soon as we met. Trans people in general are in such a precarious position for so many reasons, it’s safer to be as open as possible with your dating expectations. And it’s true, there are a ton of ladyboys on Japanese Tinder. We had a good laugh about how Japanese girls must be jealous, because most of the ladyboys are prettier. She must have been aware of how her voice sounds when she asked me. She confesses that she sometimes tells guys at bars/clubs she’s a ladyboy just so they stop hassling her.

So you can see she’s already quite the personality. And I think she definitely noticed that I accepted her as she was, without judgment or insecurity.

As she hits the bathroom, I pay for the two of us. I get her to agree to buy me a drink or two at the bar in return. Equality, right? The place I had in mind was one of Osaka’s secret bars. I knew the name, and Google Maps showed me the general location, but the entrance was actually extremely well-hidden. First, there was no signage out front. We had to walk up and down the street, cross-reference the alley with photos from Street View, then adventure up a generic poorly-lit apartment stairwell that ended in a toilet and a janitor’s closet. This was the Fission Mailed screen. But we could hear the sounds of a bar. Bottles tinkling and voices talking, as if from behind a wall. Across the hall from the toilet, I noticed a tiny waist-high wooden carved door in the wall, a la Alice in Wonderland. That can’t possibly be real. Or the entrance. We push it open and the sounds get louder. I look at Mara. “Ladies first,” I say. She hunches over and walks through the door with me behind her.

The bar is great, it’s a small but warm and intricate space covered in dark wood and soft antique lighting, with two bartenders in full uniform. We sit at the bar. It’s an open menu and when we ask the bartender to surprise us, he asks if we prefer strong drinks. Yes! This is the first time I get such a bold question in a Japanese bar, where cocktails have a bit of a reputation for getting watered down. I’m served a delightful ginger/lemon concoction and Mara gets a sinfully dark rummy drink. We sip and talk. As more and more people filter in (doesn’t seem that secret of a bar anymore) it gets a bit less intimate so we polish off our drinks, Mara pays the tab, and we head to karaoke!

So, I’m a doofus. We played some goofy songs. It starts with Backstreet Boys because we were talking about nineties singers, and I’m trying to find common ground through bad pop music. After I embarrass myself with the song (which she didn’t even recognize), I open my bag and pull out my maple whiskey with two shot glasses. I’ve been lugging this bottle all over Osaka and Kobe to share with friends new and old. I pour out half a shot with a bit of water because it is actually intensely sweet. We drink to good health. Her song comes on and she is *amazing*. Like, imagine one of those old-timey smoke-filled bar scenes where the singer comes on stage and just blows the crowd away with her sultry voice. We order drinks to the room. I’m sipping tequila shots and she gets beer. And the music goes on. Bad Romance, a little Abba, Ed Sheeran. Some Japanese songs from my side and some Chinese songs from hers. We do another toast of maple whiskey. Our first hour passes. We add another hour to the karaoke. That hour ends, and we add another hour. Time feels like it’s flying. Pretty soon the last train is come and gone (they stop running around midnight in Osaka). Fuck, now we probably have to stay here and karaoke all night, I think. Great, I put on Get Lucky from Daft Punk since it seems appropriate in this situation. And the whole time, we’ve been slowly inching closer to each other on the couch. First it was just our legs touching. Then I put an arm around her when I’m in the middle of a song and she doesn’t seem to mind. Actually, she joins me in the song! We’re swaying together to the rhythm of the music. I caress her shoulder. My fingers trace the outline of her ear and run through her hair, and this goes on for way too long because remember, I’m a doofus. I end up pouring more whiskey shots for us between songs. While she’s singing, her hand ends up falling across my legs and stays there, resting on my thigh. And because I’m a doofus, I think this is totally accidental and normal. Please ignore the raging hard-on straining against my jeans just centimetres away from her hand. It’s dark, the music feels timeless and the smell and sound and warmth of her is intoxicating. After she finishes a particularly nice song, I just turn my head and plant a gentle kiss on her cheek. She giggles and asks what that was for. I have to smile and tell her it’s a reward for the song, right? She says thank you in that low husky voice. After my song, I ask her if I get a reward too. She asks me where I want the kiss. I could have been very naughty, but instead just ask for the same thing she got. I get a nice big kiss on the cheek, and we keep snuggling and singing together.

After that, I can’t take it anymore, so we do one more song and I ask if I can kiss her. To my surprise, she gets all flustered, she’s blushing in the dark, and she says she needs another drink. I have no problem with that. I’m fumbling with the tablet, I barely manage to put in our drink orders before I turn back to her, cup her face, and take in the deepest kiss I’ve ever had in my life. After wanting it for more than an hour, we’re just sucking on each other’s face like mad. She’s sucking on my tongue. I’m moaning into her mouth. We’re practically trying to eat each other’s faces when there’s a knock at the door. We have to comically bolt back onto the couch and try to look normal while the server comes in and deposits the drinks on the table. As soon as he’s gone, though, her tongue is back in my mouth and we’re pressing against each other, trying to taste each other as deeply as possible. The karaoke is totally forgotten now, it’s just her body and her scent filling up my world while her lips steal my air. I take my glasses off so they’re not jabbing her in the face and she pauses in amazement to comment on how pretty my eyes are. It’s not something I’ve really heard in a long time. The fact that she noticed in a room lit only by the dim glow of the TV was really flattering. We kiss gently, exploring each other’s lips, hands running over each other’s body. The kisses get more heated. Soon she’s urgently sucking on my tongue again and it’s driving me wild. I’m running out of air and we break the kiss with a gasp. I ask her if we can go somewhere more private. She agrees. We polish off our last drink then hop off the couch, tidy ourselves up and head down to settle the bill. It’s around 1am at this point, and we need to find a love hotel.

[explanation of love hotels]

I once had a friend from out of town accidentally book a love hotel online without realizing what he’d paid for. He thought he was getting a really good deal. He only found out when he showed up and turned on the mood lighting.
Love hotels are basically super nice motels for sex. You’re not really staying there more than a few hours or a night at most, so the prices reflect that.

It was a Tuesday night, and the love hotels were practically full. I can’t imagine having to find a room on weekends. Hilariously, we did a bit of shopping around (they’re all on the same street) but the prices were mostly the same. (Also, Japan is a place where you have very little privacy, yet discretion is highly valued. That’s why these places have covered entrances, separate entrance/exit, and zero human interaction. We picked a room the same way you’d pick a drink from a vending machine – there was a screen in the foyer that spat out a keycard after you pressed a few buttons to make your choice).

[end explanation]

We walk into the room, and it really is much nicer than some hotels I’ve been in. There’s a cool sound system that we can’t connect either of our phones to, with a big fluffy bed facing a TV that probably has a bunch of porn on order. The mantelpiece behind the bed has a discreet box of condoms and something wrapped in a cloth bag, probably a toy. I’m kicking myself because I didn’t have time to pick up my pack of condoms at my place. I mention how Japanese condoms are supposed to be smaller and more painful for foreigners. I’m a bit worried but I imagine it’s mostly just internet memes. She pulls at the toy wrapped in fabric and opens it out of curiosity, revealing a gigantic Hitachi wand. She bursts into laughter and starts waving it around like she’s Harry Potter.

**[Start here for sexytimes]**

She suggests we take a shower. I use the toilet, and when I come out, her back is to me and she’s already undressed, bra slipping off her naked body. I have a second or two to drink in the sight of her cute butt for the first time. She turns around and I’m immediately greeted by her glorious boobs sitting perky and crowned by two delicious dark nipples. Somehow I’ve already crossed the space between us and my hands are running all over her. I take my hands away with some difficulty, I undress and leave my clothes in a pile as I follow her into the shower. We proceed to gently soap each other down from head to toe and make out in the shower. She gingerly grips my massively erect cock while making a sound of amazement (I’m only average size and slightly girthy, but this time it felt like my little friend was trying real hard to touch the sky thanks to how turned on I was). I make sure to soap up her boobs and rub and squeeze thoroughly before moving down to soap (admire) her ass and pussy. She has a super clean pussy with just a faint hint of growth. Then I’m back up to her eye level and we’re making out again under the hot shower.

We dry off and it’s time to get into the business of pleasure. As we’re in bed and I’m running my hands all over her, I ask her if she’s ever sat on someone’s face before. She’s taken aback and says no, which takes *me* aback. I tell her she’s in for a good time and instruct her on your basic face sitting position. After she’s settled in on top of me, I warm her up first. Kissing her inner thighs and around her pussy. I’m so, so impatient to just dive in, but I really want to take my time and tease her first. As I start to lick her properly, I can hear her breathing pick up a little speed. I end up using every trick I know. Licking and sucking on her labia, sucking on her clit, plunging into her pussy with my tongue. She’s making these sounds of amazement, and I get the satisfaction of knowing I’m the first person to eat her out this way. She also tastes really nice. Just a hint of sweetness, and soon it’s dripping all over my chin. Gosh, don’t you just hate when that happens?

Then she gives several loud, thick grunts and just drives her hips into my face. I grab tight onto her thighs and push my tongue up inside her as far and as fast as I can while she cums all over my face.

She does something that I find super endearing. After her climax, she lets out a long low moan. “Oh, wow,” she says. In her accent and husky voice, it sounds like Keanu Reeves’ “whoa”, except way more intense.

She gets off me, a little shakily, and goes to my dick. I get a really nice relaxing blowjob, where I sit back and feel her tongue playing with my head. She puts her lips around it and manages to swallow most of it, and it honestly feels amazing. She’s cradling my balls and rubbing my shaft as she sucks.

My dick pops out of her mouth and I reach for the condoms. She reminds me of what I said about Japanese condoms earlier and she seems a bit worried if I’ll manage, but it slips on without too much trouble. It feels a bit pinchy around the base of my dick but I’m sure it’ll relax or I’ll get used to it.

She clambers back on top of me and rides me like she’s got all night. I get to squeeze those juicy thighs and circle those tasty brown nipples with my fingers, running my hands up and down her sides. I’m devouring her with my eyes. Her thrusts are slow and luxurious, but she speeds up very quickly. My palm is pushing down on her clit and rubbing circles as she bounces. Her hips take on a life of their own. As she climaxes, they’re spasming on my dick, her face is a mask of pleasure and her moans sound like they’re being forced out of somewhere deep inside her. And that’s how she comes – violently, loudly, her hips driving harder and harder into me until she finally clenches up, slows down and comes to a twitching stop. The entire time I can’t help but marvel at the view. “Oh, wow,” she says again, her eyes closed.

I flip her over into the pillow and start pressing my dick against her pussy from behind. At this point, the condom is seriously starting to chafe, and it’s uncomfortable enough that it distracts from all the fun. I still give it the old college try. I slip in easily and start to fuck her, but after a minute or so it turns into intense pain. I ask to switch positions.

Missionary is always a good time. I get my dick lined up above her and start off pushing real slow and gentle. She’s a lot smaller and tighter than I expected. I find out later that she hasn’t had sex in months, and she says she doesn’t masturbate. I’m pressing F to doubt, but considering how open she is about everything else (and how powerful her orgasms were), I’m guessing there’s truth there.

At first it’s just my head. I don’t force the whole thing in though, just stick to shallow and gentle strokes. Each stroke goes in a little deeper until I finally bottom out inside her. She moans and her entire body clamps onto me. I’m completely inside her and it’s my pleasure now. I slide my entire shaft out of her, leave her on the edge. And then I slam back in and just plow her, fast and hard and stuck together. She’s crying out every time I pound her, and I keep pounding as hard as I can, until we collapse in a sweaty gasping heap.

So the bad news is that I didn’t cum. The condom had gotten too uncomfortable, and at this point I’m too mentally distracted by the discomfort and the fear of whiskey dick to really enjoy the moment. The good news is that she’s actually a super attentive partner and she straight up asked me if I came. I demurred, but in the end I had to admit that I didn’t. Weird insecurity thing with sex, and it’s not just guys, right? I’m very quick to reassure Mara that it’s the condom and not her, but she’s pretty laid back about it. She’s been getting off all night, after all.

I did cum later that night, but not the way I expected. Also this is getting way too long, I’m getting horny, and she’s messaging me. Oh no, she actually wants to read this… Part 2 is coming.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/htttut/mf_osaka_karaoke_ends_in_love_hotel