[Challenge the Japanese Woman]

Speaking of Japanese women, who are geographically close and of the same race, they appear no different from Chinese women.

They are often perceived as gentle, polite, and possessing a strong sense of male superiority. Even undressed,

they don't seem significantly different. Aside from height and weight, the slight differences lie in the density and

darkness , in terms of appearance and figure, they are far inferior to the women around us. But

Japanese women, with their Yamato ancestry, hold distinctly different views on sex compared to Chinese women. Their

behavior in bed is less about the release and satisfaction of sexual desire and more about the expansion and manifestation of their humanity and essence.

Although I despise them, I must say that their thinking and concepts are far ahead

of those of Chinese women.

This year, after New Year's Day, I had the opportunity to host several young Japanese women in Beijing (I

despise Japan and the Japanese people, so I refer to them all as "women" regardless of their age

). After some struggle, I used my wolfish nature to challenge and conquer one of the Japanese women

who worked and another who was visiting China. In these two women, I saw the differences in nationality,

ethnicity, and cultural background. To deepen my understanding of women from other countries, I recorded this and offer it to you

fellow wolf enthusiasts.

As time passed, my close female friends gradually left me. Several married and moved to the United States,

Australia , and Japan, and even those who stayed in China found their own homes. As the saying goes, "The Yellow Crane

has flown away, never to return; only the Yellow Crane Tower remains," leaving behind only emptiness, loss, and profound sorrow.

Just as the harsh winter arrived, the grass and trees withered, and my mind was in turmoil, I received a call from a strange number.

Upon answering, I learned it was a call from a friend who had married and moved to Japan two years prior. After some greetings and conversation,

she said she needed my help; some of her Japanese friends were coming to China for New Year's and she wanted me to

host . She also said she would bring me some Japanese cigarettes and my favorite Indian black tea. I readily agreed.

Due to the language barrier, hosting them would be difficult, so she called several times to urge me to take good care of them, telling me

that they were her closest and most frequented friends since arriving in Japan. For convenience, they went

directly to Shanghai after arriving in China, where Masako, a business director at a hotel in Hangzhou, accompanied them to explore southern China. Then, Masako

would accompany them to Beijing for sightseeing before returning to Japan.

I met Masako and the three Japanese women who came with her at Beijing Railway Station. The night before, I spoke with Masako on

the phone; her beautiful voice and fairly fluent Mandarin excited me immensely. I had never met Japanese

women , and I was curious, constantly wondering what their arrival meant for me—were they prey delivered to my door or

a New Year's gift?

The express train from Shanghai arrived in Beijing around 7:00 AM. Upon meeting them, I was somewhat disappointed. None of them were very

old ; the oldest was Masako, only about 27 or 28. However, their figures were really not flattering. Except for

Masako, who was somewhat acceptable, the others were all short and stocky, like piglets. Her skin was nice, her face fair,

and she looked quite charming with light makeup.

We were arranged to stay at the Xiyuan Hotel (a five-star hotel), two people to a room, and then we went sightseeing together. Yako had been to

Beijing before, so she acted as our translator, and I was both the driver and tour guide. The daytime sightseeing was relaxed and enjoyable; everyone chatted and laughed, and although

it was our first meeting, there seemed to be no awkwardness at all. They kept taking photos with me in groups, which made me a little

embarrassed. Yako noticed my awkwardness and told me with a smile that

it was normal were always like this, even more so in China. She also said that they

could take the photos with me back and show them off to their friends. I didn't understand, but I let it go; I didn't lose anything anyway. What

attracted me most was the relatively prettier Hirano. Her face was very distinctive, and her smile was truly radiant and captivating

. She was talkative and energetic, and when taking photos, she would either ask me to put my arm around her waist or lean on me, pressing her face against my

ear. So I spent the whole day with them, and in broad daylight, I didn't hold back in hugging and embracing them. Where else can you find such

a good thing?

That evening, I treated them to Peking duck at Quanjude. They ate, praised it, and even sang, attracting

strange looks. I had hoped to have some fun with them that night, but when I took them back to their hotel, only Yako said

she wanted to see the Beijing night view and asked me to drive her around. The others waved goodbye and went upstairs.

When it was just the two of us in the car, there was a bit of silence. After we got on the Third Ring Road, I touched her thigh

to break the awkwardness. She acquiesced and even smiled at me. I then reached between her legs, and she

seemed a little nervous, pressing my hand down to signal me to stop. Her expression was complicated. I pulled my hand away and

said, "You've been in China for over half a year. Can you tell me your thoughts on Chinese men?"

She said, "I didn't expect Chinese men to be even more lecherous than Japanese men" (classic, summarizing everything in one sentence).

I was taken aback. Was she talking about me? Afraid of ruining things, I quickly changed the subject. We talked about China

's ancient history and its current changes, and Chinese men and women. She got a little excited, especially when talking about men.

She said Chinese men are generous but cunning; you can see the lust in their eyes, and their faces are all written with lust. Chinese

women conservative but confident, the complete opposite of Japanese women. I seized the opportunity to tease her with something risqué. She just laughed

and didn't respond, making me feel quite awkward. We rested for a while in the parking lot at the entrance of Fragrant Hills Park,

smoking together. She said, "Do you know what I said to them just to be able to come out with you?" I said you

invited me to visit one of your friends who had studied in Japan. Hirano wanted to come along, but I told her

it was impolite to go without an invitation, and she stopped. In the end, she even said that I was biased and only invited her because I'm pretty

.

I laughed for a long time and shook my head repeatedly. No wonder Hirano looked at me strangely when we left. I

said to Masako, "If I had known what you were talking about, I would have let them come out with me."

Masako said, "If they had all come out, I wouldn't have come." Hirano was the youngest and most playful, but she was

a very nice and cheerful person, though a bit cunning. She started talking about you as soon as she saw you, saying you were like a man, a good friend, and that you were always on time to pick me up from the station

early in the morning etc. She said a lot of things she shouldn't have. I thought to myself, what if you understood Japanese?

We'd be so embarrassed, like standing naked in front of you.

She continued, "My face is burning; they must be talking about me behind my back again." I didn't care what they were saying.

Feeling down, I wanted to go for a walk. I interacted with all sorts of people at the hotel, but I still felt lonely. I have no friends in

China , nothing but work.

Hearing her say that, my heart sank, and I understood everything. I took her hand and said, "Friends' affairs are

my own affairs; it's only right that I host you."

Perhaps the alcohol was taking effect, because she became more talkative: "Hirano is right, you are

the Chinese . The first time I saw you, I felt you were very kind, honest, and approachable, with the demeanor of an elder." Actually, I've been in China

for over six months and have met quite a few Chinese men. Their generosity surprised me, but what I couldn't tolerate was their

lustful looks at people in work or business settings—it was outrageous.

I turned and stroked her hands, saying, "Lust is a man's nature;

if It's just that you Japanese men are better at pretending.

" She said, "I see you seem a little embarrassed." I said, "

You are friends of my friends; even if I wanted to lust, I wouldn't dare. How can I face

my friends ?"

She was a little confused, and I repeated myself before she understood. Nodding, she said, "I see."

It was already past ten o'clock, and I suggested going back to the hotel, but she disagreed, saying, "I'm going back to Hangzhou tomorrow night.

It wasn't easy for me to come to Beijing, I should enjoy the night view."

Naturally, I couldn't refuse, so I drove around the Third Ring Road again until almost midnight before heading back.

To be honest, I had some lustful thoughts and wanted to stop on a quiet side of the road and be intimate with her several times, but I never dared to.

Like I said before, it wouldn't be good to explain to my friends!

The next day was still sightseeing. Since Yako's flight back to Hangzhou was at eight o'clock that evening, we went back to the hotel early,

had a simple dinner, and then I took Yako to the airport. When we parted, Yako gave me a note that said, "The arrangements are all

here. Come to Hangzhou to see me sometime." After saying that, she bowed deeply to me, and I patted her shoulder, touched

her face, and gave her a light hug as a farewell.

Two days of exhaustion and nothing to show for it left me somewhat disheartened, so I went straight to shower and sleep after returning home. Lying in bed

, I remembered the note Masako had left. Opening it, I was stunned. It was written in Chinese by Masako. The first

item was that Hirano asked me to come to her room at 9:30 that evening, saying she had a gift for me.

It turned out Masako and Hirano shared a room; now that Masako was gone, only Hirano was left. I naturally

knew what the gift was. I was thrilled. I quickly dressed, ignoring the cold, and drove to Xiyuan. I gently knocked on

Hirano's door; it was almost 10 pm. Hirano at this moment was completely different from the Hirano of the day.

Her long hair, which had been tied up during the day, was now flowing over her shoulders. Dressed simply, she looked incredibly beautiful. If I hadn't known she

was Japanese, I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between her and a Chinese woman. Her first action surprised me. She

smiled and opened her arms, waiting for me to embrace her. Without thinking, without even taking off my coat, I pulled her

tightly into my arms, kissing her chubby cheeks and forehead passionately, then turned and forcefully pushed her down onto the bed. The movements were

so natural, so coordinated, like old lovers on a date. As we rolled back and forth, my

heart pounded, my chest felt like it was holding a rabbit, the warmth of the heater made my mouth dry, and my erection fueled my lust

. I no longer needed to maintain my daytime gentlemanly demeanor; my wolfish nature instantly surfaced. Without hesitation, I

stripped her naked, then watched her alluring posture on the bed as I undressed her. Trembling, she bent her legs, hands

covering her chest, eyes wide, gazing at me timidly. Her shifty eyes flickered with shyness and

expectation. I loved that look; I had never seen a woman look at me like that before. While a lewd gaze

could certainly arouse a man's wicked thoughts, her shy gaze transformed my initial wickedness into intense lust.

Although the outcome was the same, what followed carried a touch of humanity and nobility.

Please forgive my clumsy attempt to cover up and my pointless excuses. Wolves don't wear clothes; their nature is inherently cruel and cunning.

Actually, I was also a little scared, after all, it was my first time sleeping with a Japanese woman. After undressing, I picked her up and

placed her under the blanket, dimmed the light, and slowly touched her entire body. Hirano's skin was well-maintained,

soft, delicate, white, and smooth. She was rather plump, with an unattractive waist, and her breasts, though not small (

due to ), were slightly sagging, with very tender nipples. Her most striking feature was her abundant pubic hair, which felt prickly to the touch. In bed, she

was more proactive than I was. She kissed my ear, inhaled my scent, and vigorously stroked my erect penis with both hands. I

clamped her body between my legs and rubbed my chest against her breasts, clearly feeling her nipples grow larger and harder. Touching her genitals, I noticed she

was already wet. Just as I was about to mount her, I suddenly remembered something: I'd forgotten to bring a condom. She seemed

to sense something too, touching her slowly softening penis, and looked up at me. How could I explain this to her? I had to gesture with my hands. Luckily

, she understood, got up, wrote the English

abbreviation for AIDS on the hotel's notepad, then shook her head and smiled at me. I understood too. I thought to myself, since I'm already here, I can't

back down . Isn't life a gamble? I can always try again.

I pulled her back onto the bed, spread her legs, and inserted my penis into her wet slit. She instinctively tightened

her lower abdomen and lifted her legs to let me penetrate deeper, so that the head of my penis immediately reached her cervix. After a few vigorous thrusts,

she started moaning intermittently, her voice very soft, her head swaying back and forth, it was hard to tell if it was pain or excitement. To

control my ejaculation, I stopped thrusting and lay on top of her, enjoying the sensation. The feeling of not wearing a condom was very real.

Perhaps because of the high lubrication, her vagina wasn't very tight, the vaginal walls were slightly firm, a sign of her strong leg muscles,

my penis felt like it was inserted into a muscular tube. She thought I was tired and gestured for me to get up and let her be on top. I was

happy to , because I don't ejaculate in the woman-on-top position. She took a moment to adjust, then her movements became more vigorous, almost

always pulling out and then thrusting in again, each time all the way in. After a while, she turned 180 degrees to face

away from me and began thrusting in and out. I saw her labia minora everting with each thrust, a vibrant,

bright red. The bed in Xiyuan was quite nice, sturdy and stable, with the perfect balance of firmness and softness. During the thrusting, I could only hear her moans

and the wet sounds of friction. The gentle flow of fluid had already dampened my pubic hair, glistening in the dim light.

I waited patiently, leisurely watching her performance.

Her back was sweating, and her movements slowed a bit, but she showed no sign of stopping. Japanese women are

far more dedicated than Chinese women (using "dedicated" to describe her is extremely inappropriate); even a wife wouldn't be this dedicated, let alone a prostitute. I

This is neither praise nor pity; it's a contest,

a contest , a contest of humanity, a contest of psychology, and also a contest of physical strength and sexual skill. A contest is like war;

not only must you win, but you must also make your opponent utterly defeated, demonstrating the refined and dignified character of a Chinese general.

At this moment , there are no national boundaries, no language barriers, only the language of sex and the body.

I supported her thick waist, got up, and made her lie down. I knelt behind her, slowly thrusting into her. It seemed

she liked or was used to this position. I should have been the one to initiate, but she took the initiative, her moans becoming rapid,

her pace quickening, occasionally turning to look at me, saying things I couldn't understand. I guessed she was saying she felt good,

or urging me to speed up. I felt that her words weren't meant for me to understand, but rather part of her sexual release—something

she would probably say to anyone. I didn't care what she said; I just wanted to see

how she would behave at the crucial moment. I didn't want to ejaculate quickly, nor would I. I was full of confidence in facing the challenge. After

a few dozen seconds , she couldn't take it anymore. She cried out a few times and ignored me, stretching out her

legs and lying face down on the bed. My penis slipped out. I saw her taut legs trembling, her sweaty back flushed.

This was her behavior during an orgasm. In less than a minute, she got up again, indicating that I should continue in this

position . As soon as I penetrated, she couldn't wait to start thrusting, even more frantically than before. In just over ten seconds,

she reached orgasm again. This cycle repeated six or seven times until she completely collapsed. I also leaned over

her, my penis slipping out as soon as I tried to thrust into her vagina. The overflowing vaginal fluid covered her entire vulva.

The dilated vagina made it easy for my penis to go in and out, but her slightly large buttocks were in the way. After several unsuccessful attempts, I

had to give up.

(Continued)

I turned on the light, turned her over, and quietly looked at her. She was still panting, her eyes slightly open,

her arms covering her chest, seemingly still caught in the throes of intense excitement, looking quite disheveled. I gestured for her to continue,

but she weakly shook her head and closed her eyes to sleep. I pulled the sheet over her, sat on the sofa, and drank some water, my mind

racing.

Why are Japanese women so uninhibited during sex? They pursue orgasm after orgasm until they collapse from exhaustion

.

Why can they so freely open their

bodies to a foreign man they've never met before, without regard for national dignity or personal integrity?

Why can she quickly follow one orgasm with a shorter interval between them, and that interval

keeps getting shorter? Is it due to physical or mental exhaustion? What pleasure does she derive from each orgasm?

These mysteries perplexed me. I consider myself experienced and knowledgeable about sex (I used the online name "Sex Doctor,"

and discussed men and women with many insightful individuals). Yet, the situation before me left me bewildered.

The sound of the television I turned on woke her. She smiled apologetically at me, got off the bed, knelt in front of me, and

began to greedily suck on my still-erect penis. She licked, sucked, and swallowed without restraint, sometimes

fast, sometimes slow, and my penis quickly became hard again. I pressed her head down and thrust deeper; she didn't object and even

swallowed the liquid in her mouth. I was a little moved; my previously relaxed emotions were now stirring again, and she sensed it.

She returned to the bed, sometimes lying down, sometimes lying on her back, her eyes always on me, indicating that I should choose a position.

I waved her away, and her face immediately turned serious. In her haste, she said in English: "Go on."

I understood what she meant; I never thought my English, which I had learned twenty years ago, would come in handy for the first time.

I found it amusing and gestured for her to continue using her mouth, which she did willingly and diligently. After a while,

I laid her down and thrust in hard.

Her vagina was still wet and slippery; it went in easily. She cooperated fully with my

movements, her initial arrogance gone, her moans much softer. I thought to myself: Japanese women only know a few tricks;

let's see how good you are, and see who laughs last.

Holding her plump body felt quite nice, more appealing than a skinny woman. I slowly and deliberately controlled

the pace , wearing down her stamina and eroding her will. For over half an hour, I tried every

position I'd ever used before, experimenting again and again, to the point that even I felt I was going a bit too far, yet she still smiled

and responded to me. When I presented my penis, about to ejaculate, to her, she took it without hesitation,

streams of semen shooting into her throat. She looked up at my excited expression as I ejaculated, a look of satisfaction on her face.

I straddled her, letting her lick and caress me, feeling a sweet satisfaction at having a Japanese woman serve me.

I was also covered in sweat and wanted to take a shower. She sensed my intention, pulled me to the bathroom,

adjusted the water temperature, helped me into the tub, and thoroughly washed me from head to toe. Finally, she dried

me off – the service was incredibly attentive. I guess Japanese men are luckier than Chinese men.

While I was getting dressed, she looked at me with a questioning gaze. I pointed to my wrist and then to the door, meaning it was getting late and I should leave.

She seemed almost to be crying, holding me tightly. We couldn't communicate due to the language barrier. I didn't want to spend the night there,

nor did I want to continue. I'd been running around non-stop for two days, and just now, after that physical encounter, I was exhausted.

She pointed to her bed and another empty bed, nodding repeatedly. I knew she meant we could sleep together, or

I could sleep in the other bed. I checked the time on my phone and was shocked – it was almost 3 a.m. I

shook my head helplessly, and, holding her, lay back down on the bed. Just then, the room phone rang, and I tensed up.

The call was from Masako in Hangzhou.

Hirano and Masako chatted animatedly on the phone, but unfortunately, I couldn't understand a word. However, from Hirano's expression and

occasional gestures, I could tell she was telling Masako what had just happened. While they were on the phone, I got

dressed and sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Hirano to say goodbye. But the more they talked, the more

excited they became, and Hirano, completely naked, started masturbating, which shocked me and left me speechless. I looked annoyed, reached out and pulled at the sheet under her

, pointed to the door, and told her I was leaving. She paused, then grabbed my wrist and forced my hand towards her genitals.

I had lost interest, especially disgusted by her masturbation; I felt a strange mix of emotions. Out of consideration for

my male pride and her earlier attentiveness, I could only symbolically touch her a few times (Japanese women are so slutty, again...).

(It was a vast expanse of water). I pointed to the phone, indicating that I wanted to say a few words to Masako. She nodded, mumbled a few more words, and

handed me the phone.

I said, "Hello, Ms. Masako, was your journey smooth?"

Masako: "Thank you, thank you."

I said, "I should be thanking you; you made my evening very pleasant."

A continuous stream of laughter came from the phone, very alluring laughter. Then she said, "You're amazing, Chinese

men are amazing.

" I said, "Oh? She told you everything?"

Masako: "Hirano told me everything. I'm inviting you to Hangzhou; will you accept?"

I said, "Why wouldn't I? I'll go to Hangzhou at the appropriate time to see the beautiful West Lake and the beautiful

Ms. Masako."

Another burst of laughter came from the receiver. I thought to myself, "Is Masako also

masturbating naked ? If so, the scene would be quite moving." Seeing Hirano staring blankly to the side, I said, "Please

tell Hirano that I have to go home now; I'll pick them up from the airport tomorrow."

Masako: Hirano said she doesn't want you to leave. She said she wants you to stay with her until dawn. Are you willing?

I said: I'm a married man. It's not right for a man to stay out all night. Please understand, and please tell

her so she understands too.

Masako thought for a moment and said: Okay, you go home. I'll tell her.

I quickly handed the phone to Hirano. They said a few words and hung up.

I covered Hirano with a blanket, kissed her chubby neck a few times, and waved goodbye.

The lobby downstairs was dimly lit and quiet. I picked up my coat and walked towards

the parking lot .

At eight o'clock in the morning, I arrived at the buffet restaurant on one side of the lobby. The three of them had already collected their luggage, paid the bill,

and were waiting for me to eat. When they saw me, they smiled, stood up, and bowed to me. I quickly nodded in return and

hurried to get my food. Everyone says Japanese women are gentle, refined, and well-mannered, but that's not really true. "

Three women make a drama" is the perfect description for them. For the ten-odd minutes of the meal, their mouths never stopped. They

ate and chatted enthusiastically, clearly judging me and taking advantage of my lack of Japanese. Hirano must have

told them about what happened between us in bed. I remained silent, hoping to get rid of these Japanese witches

(no! They should be called sluts!).

After seeing Hirano off, I called Masako from my office. Masako said Hirano had already

called .

Masako also said: "Thank you for your consideration. They all had a great time, except Hirano said she hadn't had enough

. Please forgive any shortcomings. I'm leaving China this June. Welcome to Hangzhou.

" I went to Hangzhou after the Spring Festival. After signing a project in Shanghai, I made a detour to

Hangzhou It was still a bit early for visiting West Lake, but the purpose, of course, was for Masako. I

only called her after arriving at the hotel where she worked. It was a five-star hotel operated by a renowned international chain (friends in Hangzhou should be

familiar with it), managed by an international hotel management company. The hotel's senior management was split evenly between Chinese and foreign staff.

Masako worked for the Asian branch of the international hotel management company; she was on assignment in China for a year, and she didn't know where she would be

working . She was very happy to receive the call, but she just couldn't believe I would suddenly come to

Hangzhou, because during our New Year's greetings over the phone, I had said I was too busy after the holiday. She said I was

joking , and I told her to come to the lobby and see for herself. After hanging up, I sat in a chair next to the assistant manager's desk in the lobby,

waiting for her to appear.

Less than two minutes later, she emerged from the office area corridor. She wore a black short-skirted suit, a white shirt,

a black ribbon, and light professional makeup; from a distance, she looked dignified, elegant, and radiant. I stood up and waved to her.

I'm afraid I can't describe the expression on her face the moment she saw me. She

walked .

When she reached me, she bowed and said, "Hello (in Japanese)!"

I held her hand, looked into her eyes, and said, "You're so beautiful."

Her face flushed crimson, and she didn't dare look up. Even the lobby manager standing nearby chuckled and

tactfully left. Yako, sitting in the lobby manager's chair, glanced at me sideways and said, "You're so cute, you

actually came!"

I said, "A man's word is his bond. I told you I'd come to Hangzhou to see you before you left China.

" She said, "I didn't expect you to come so soon."

I said, "Should I tell you in advance so you could prepare?"

She said, "No! No! I mean, I'm so nervous seeing you suddenly. Did I act awkwardly?"

I smiled and said, "No! You're really beautiful! I even want to kiss you right now, is that okay?"

She instinctively covered her mouth, lowered her head, and said, "No, no."

I saw that not only her face was red, but her neck was too. At that moment, she didn't seem like a senior hotel manager at all ; she was more like a lady from a romance novel, completely different from the person I 'd spoken to on

the phone with Hirano that day . 　　Seeing her embarrassment, I softly asked, "Are you very busy with work?" "Will I not bother you?" 　　She realized her lapse in composure was affecting her image at the hotel. She looked up at me, casually brushed her stray hairs aside, sat up straight, and said, "It's still the off-season. In twenty days, the number of guests will start to increase." "My sales and marketing department doesn't have an off-season, but the orders for the first half of the year are all secured. 　　" I said, "Is it convenient for me to stay here? I prefer hotels near West Lake" (she had mentioned on the phone that I would stay at her hotel in Hangzhou, and I was still unsure, testing her and leaving myself an out). 　　She: "Isn't it good to stay here? " 　　I: "It's not that it's bad, it's just that I was worried it might be inconvenient for you." 　　Yako: "Then stay here. Sit for a while, I'll go to the front desk and get you a room." 　　I quickly said, "I'm on business, the expenses can be reimbursed." 　　She laughed: "Coming to Hangzhou, why would I let you pay for a hotel?" 　　Then she gave me a mysterious smile and said, "I have a certain number of business rooms reserved for leaders of various travel agencies. Would you like to enjoy one too?" 　　I nodded and smiled. 　　She had come with the assistant manager. She said, "Mr. Wolf (referred to as 'Wolf' instead of his real name), I have a meeting to chair before I leave work , so I need to prepare. Miss Li will take you to your room to rest, and I'll treat you to dinner after work."

She smiled at me first, then glanced at Ms. Li, and turned to leave. She was as relaxed

and at ease ; she had completely returned to work mode.

The room was on the tenth floor, a small suite on a corner, with a living room added compared to a standard room. I'd usually stayed at the New World Hotel when visiting Hangzhou,

this was my first time here. Ms. Li was very attentive as she came upstairs, always smiling, and occasionally glancing at my

expression . I remained composed and dignified; I wasn't afraid of the Japanese, so why would I be afraid of you?

I checked the time; it wasn't even five o'clock yet. I decided to take a hot shower and then sleep a bit more, so I'd be energetic at night. Just as I fell asleep,

someone knocked on the door; it was a waiter bringing fruit. The waiter left the fruit, taking my sleepiness with her. I

ate the fruit while watching TV, waiting for her to finish work.

It was almost seven o'clock when Yazi called, saying the car was downstairs and we'd go to Lou Wai Lou for Hangzhou cuisine.

Yazi met me at the elevator, and we walked through the lobby together. The doorman opened the car door for me, and Yazi got into the driver's seat.

This time, it was her turn to drive.

The food at Lou Wai Lou was to my liking, light and delicious. She ate very little, mostly watching me eat, but

I didn't care. To be honest, it was much more civilized than the way she ate Peking duck.

After dinner, I suggested driving around West Lake before heading back. We walked all the way to Liuhe Pagoda and

stopped by the riverbank not far from the old Qiantang River Bridge. I took her hand and kissed it, and she turned and hugged me, our lips naturally

touching. Neither of us paid attention to the headlights from the passing cars; we just held each other and kissed. The air

was filled with the sweet scent of chewing gum, and her soft, agile tongue was the best I'd ever tasted—

smooth, delicate, thin, and pointed. If she hadn't pulled it back, I probably would have swallowed it whole.

My hand slid down to her breasts, gentlemanly caressing them through her clothes. Her breasts weren't large; one hand could easily

hold , but they felt very firm and wouldn't sag even without a bra. She was completely immersed in desire;

the stimulation of her breasts only accelerated her heartbeat, pushing her passion to its peak.

My hand reached towards her inner thighs, and she resisted, clamping her arms tightly together, but my body drew closer,

and I held her even tighter. Her panties and stockings were soaked with her juices, and if it continued, the cushion would be wet. I

wiped her face with my wet hand. As if stimulated, she broke free from my embrace, covered her face with her hands, and turned away.

Her shy, unspoken, and incredibly delicate expression still flashes in my mind; the rich

and unique Japanese feminine charm she exuded intoxicated me.

Seeing that it was almost time, I said, "Let's go back.

" She removed her hands from her face, looked at me directly, and said, "Am I embarrassing?"

I hugged her and said, "I like you the way you are." She smiled, a sweet smile.

As the car pulled into the hotel, she said, "You go upstairs first, I'll change and then come find you."

I had assumed she would come upstairs with me, but hearing her say that made me a little uneasy. What if she didn't

come now? Wouldn't I want to jump out of the window?

She said, "I need to touch up my makeup. Also, I can't go into the room with you. Don't worry, I'll definitely

come."

(Continued in Part Two)

Back home, I went into the bathroom, first extinguishing my lust with cold water, then washing away the fluid from my erection.

I put on my pajamas, crawled under the blanket, and turned on the TV.

She arrived quickly, dressed simply, less serious than during the day, and more alluring—truly

lovely.

Seeing me about to hug her, she shushed me with her finger, indicating I should continue watching TV, and then went into the bathroom carrying

a very elegant handbag.

Listening to the rushing water, my mind raced, my heart pounding. An unquenchable lust burned within me, and

my erection instantly reached its peak. The water stopped, and I turned off the TV, quietly waiting for her to appear. But

she didn't come out for a long time. I couldn't bear the loneliness any longer, so I abandoned all gentlemanly manners and

rushed into the bathroom. There she was, standing there blankly, her hands covering her face, her elbows protecting her breasts. I picked up her still-wet

body and threw her onto the bed.

Before she could pull the sheet over herself, I took turns sucking on her nipples, my middle finger deeply inserted into her

vagina, stirring inside. She clung to me tightly, burying her face in my armpit, her legs twisting up and down.

I'd never performed oral sex on a woman before, but today I suddenly had the urge to try it on her. I spread her legs, opening her vulva

, parting the thick pubic hair, rubbing her clitoris with one hand and playing with her long labia minora with the other. Since it was my first time,

I carefully smelled it; it smelled the same as her body, a scent I'd never smelled before. I licked it; it was salty. As

I licked, I put her labia minora in my mouth, like eating cotton candy, it felt like it was melting. She started struggling

frantically , kicking off the blanket, pulling off the sheet, the pillow long gone. Watching her struggle frantically

was even more satisfying than having sex with me. If it weren't for the Japanese in her screams, I would have almost forgotten she was Japanese. It

was an immense sense of conquest. I stopped playing with her, and she quieted down, trying to find a sheet to cover herself,

but I held her down. She covered her face and chest, rolling

from side to side. I lay down flat, pulled her onto me, and tried to insert my penis into her vagina. Because of her saliva, it went in halfway in. She pulled back a little, and

the head of my penis was right at her cervix. I held her waist, and she arched her back, covering my eyes with her hands so I couldn't see

her. She then vigorously rocked herself on top of me, making the bed creak. Unlike Hirano, who thrust in and out

with long stroke, Masako swayed after penetration, letting the head of her penis rub

against a certain part of her body. But the effect was the same. In less than ten minutes, she climaxed, her juices flowing onto my scrotum

and continuing to drip. She no longer bothered to cover my eyes, holding my head and kissing me passionately until she bit my

lips and gasped for breath against my face. After a short rest, I patted her, signaling for another round. She looked up,

tears welling in her eyes, and said, "Mr. Wolf, I'm satisfied, so, so satisfied. I don't want anymore,

I'll die if I want more.

" I rolled over, pinning her beneath me, kissing away her tears, and said, "How could that be? Hirano has far more needs than you.

Is the position wrong or uncomfortable?"

She said, "Comfortable, really comfortable. I love you; I can reach my climax in any position

. Men can't understand the pleasure a woman feels at her climax. "

I said, "I'm going to try to understand that today, but you have to cooperate."

She was a little scared, struggling and staring at me with wide eyes, as if she didn't recognize me. I kept smiling at her;

I knew she couldn't escape. After struggling for a while, she calmed down, looking at me helplessly, her voice

pleading, "Let me go, I'm scared."

Me: "Afraid I'll hurt you?" She shook her head. "Afraid I'll bother you?" She shook her head again.

I said: "Then don't be afraid of anything, let me have some fun too."

I changed positions and had sex with her, and she cooperated well, making soft noises, but lacking

the .

I came to Hangzhou specifically to have sex with Japanese women, and I wanted to savor the experience of Japanese women.

How could I easily give up such a rare opportunity?

I said: "I'm a little tired, shall we take a bath together?"

In the bathtub, we washed each other's bodies, and

a smile gradually appeared on her previously heavy face. I said: "Your skin is so white and delicate, and your waist is so flexible. Your body is like a teenage girl's."

She said with no small amount of pride: "Yes, women rely on their bodies to support their lives." "Otherwise, why would a man want you? Normally, I'd probably still be at the gym right now.

"

I said, "No wonder. Men will melt at the sight of you.

" She stared at me and said, "Will you?"

I picked her up and walked away, saying, "Yes! I'm going to melt right now."

On the bed, I stroked her pubic hair and said, "I'm going to melt right here. I'm going to make you melt too."

Without giving her any time to think, I used the same trick again, first giving her oral sex for a while, then turning to suck on her

earlobe, my hands constantly pulling her labia minora and rubbing her clitoris. Soon she was dripping wet,

breathless , her eyes glazed, and she was babbling incoherently, even more frantic than before.

I used my most familiar and pleasurable missionary position to insert my penis, thrusting and shaking it vigorously, my hands

gripping her buttocks tightly, allowing her upper body and legs to move, but the crucial middle part was under my control. She

lifted her legs and arched her back, constantly adjusting to the best position she needed, and I cooperated accordingly. A few minutes

later, she reached orgasm again. This climax was clearly more intense than the first. She no longer

covered her face , screamed, scratched, or bit; her limbs were outstretched, and she could only lie there panting.

I pulled out my budding penis, roared, and aimed at her chest and abdomen, giving it a few hard strokes. Several streams of hot fluid

spurted out, splashing onto her breasts and around her navel, and a few drops also got on her pubic hair and chin. She only groaned once,

as if in response to my ejaculation; she couldn't even lift her eyelids. I still wasn't satisfied, so I

inserted my still-erect penis again, slowly thrusting and savoring the sensation. Why do people like to drink Erguotou now?

Because although Erguotou isn't as pure as the first-harvest liquor, it's stronger and more flavorful.

Masako and Hirano have similarities and differences in their bodies and their performance in bed. What they have in common is:

good skin, abundant moisture and hair, strong libido, and quick orgasms (compared to Chinese women), and they both moan in Japanese (probably because

they haven't learned the Chinese language for moaning in bed yet). The differences are: Hirano is outgoing and straightforward, while Masako is shy and reserved; Hirano

prioritizes quantity, while Masako focuses on quality; Hirano's moans are soft, while Masako's are loud; Hirano is a bit clumsy in bed,

while Masako is much more agile and supple; Hirano's vagina is hard and straight, providing good friction but not comfort

,

while Masako's vagina is soft and slippery, making my penis feel very comfortable inside. Seeing that she really couldn't get up, I went to the bathroom to wash myself. When I came out, she had already arranged the bed and was waiting for me

. I looked at her with a victor's gaze and pulled her into my arms. She used the sheet to wipe the water off me and whispered

, "I have to go.

" I said, "Can you not go? I want to hold you while we sleep."

She said, "I have to go. I have to go to work tomorrow, and I can't stay here overnight."

I said, "Are you still afraid?" She shook her head. I said, "Tell me if you feel good?"

She hugged me and kissed me, whispering in my ear, "You saw everything and you still ask? I look awful today

. You're not allowed to laugh at me, and you're never allowed to do that again." After saying that, she covered her face and ran into the bathroom.

She came out fully dressed, just as she had come in, only her face showed signs of fatigue.

She said, "Get some sleep, you don't need to get up early. I'll arrange breakfast for you and take you to the airport."

I tried to get up to see her off, but she waved me off. I looked at her face, at the bag in her hand, at her turning back

, at her receding figure, at her walking further and further away.

I didn't sleep well that night, constantly dreaming of my Japanese friend speaking to me in Japanese.

I couldn't fall asleep before seven o'clock. After packing, I called to check the flight to Beijing,

wrote a short message for Yako, sealed it, and gave it to the front desk along with the key card, asking them to pass it on to Yako. Then I

embarked on my journey back to Beijing.

Postscript:

The day after I returned to Beijing, I received an email from Yako. The email was very long and didn't conform to Chinese

grammar and reading habits. Here is an excerpt: Mr. Wolf: Meeting you was the most unforgettable

experience foreign land. Unfortunately, before I could recover from my extreme excitement, you left, leaving without looking back. Like

my past boyfriends (I understand it to mean boyfriends), you left without looking back. You know how much I

wanted you to stay just one more day! I think you must have noticed, but you pretended not to. That's your cunning,

your tactic, your success. Men have been heartless and hurt me before, but thankfully, this time I didn't fall in love,

I wasn't bewitched by you, I simply willingly offered you my body. Your departure left me feeling lost, empty, filled

with memories, and I miss you.

You once asked me what kind of man I liked. I like men who are generous, mature, and magnanimous; I

like men who are resolute, tall, and tenacious. You are the type of man I like, and you are also the kind of Chinese

man I admire. Meeting you in China is my greatest gain. You changed my view of Chinese men. I wonder

how many men like you there are in China, and why I never met one before. I came to

China with questions and curiosity. Hotel management is my job, but not my major; I study behavioral science in management

(simply put, I study human nature). During my undergraduate studies, I researched Japanese people at Toyota, and for my master's degree, I researched Americans at

Parts . This time, I'm going to do some serious research on Chinese people. When I get back, I'll write a

paper about Chinese men for my alma mater, and if you don't mind, you'll be an important part of that paper.

If you were Japanese, I would marry you; if I were Chinese, I would also marry you. There's no such thing as fate; we...

Let's be friends forever!

I didn't reply to Masako's letter, nor did I call her. I didn't even say thank you in person before leaving,

which seemed unbecoming of a Chinese man. I remember someone saying that regret is also a kind of beauty. Yes, I have too many

regrets , one more won't matter, let's just consider it adding another layer of beauty!

After Hirano and the others returned to Japan, my friend who married a Japanese man also sent me an email, which almost

brought me to tears after reading it. I copied the entire text (deleting a few insulting sentences) as a closing remark.

Brother Wolf, Miss Hirano told me everything when she came back, thank you for your care. I

saw , you are still so energetic, so dashing, so passionate and lustful, so unrestrained.

You always asked me why I married a Japanese man, and I have never given you a complete answer. I

didn't dare to say it to your face in the past, but now I can say it. I like Japan, I like Japanese men. You will

be angry , you will scold me, or even hit me. I'm speaking from the heart, I'm not lying to you. The greatest characteristic of Japanese men

is honesty. I like honest men, so what's so strange about marrying a Japanese man?

When I met you, I had just entered society and was young, so I was easily captivated by you. Your personality,

knowledge, professional skills, principles, and even your appearance—all possessed the qualities of my ideal man. I admired you

so much , loved you so much, and valued you more than myself. You have a family, a wife and daughter, and your own

life, which I understand. I don't compete with them for anything. What I valued most was your rare

sense of responsibility , which is one of the key indicators I use to judge a man's quality. It was your sense of responsibility that led me

to fall into your arms before I fully understood you.

Although I didn't give you my virginity, I'll say without hesitation that you were my first love, a

first love I'll never forget. I loved you, and I hated you. I resolved to leave you, but inexplicably, I returned to

your side. You never blamed me; it was like when I came home from a business trip—you would hold me even tighter. Your

magnanimity moved me, made me love you even more, and made me lose myself even more. You never called me by my name, you called me

"Little Thing." At first, I wasn't used to it, but later I got used to it. Whenever you called me "Little Thing," I would have a

strange impulse (let me tell you, a sexual impulse), to the point that it caused me

a problem with our sex life for a period of time after we got married. You really ruined my life.

I know you have other women besides me, like Xiaohui and Shanshan. I asked you, but you

denied . But whenever I saw those strange stains on your underwear, my heart ached. I

would be even more frantic in bed, demanding more from you, taking revenge on you, making you unable to get out of bed the next day. Only then would I

feel satisfied and happy. You would also ravage me even more brutally, as if deliberately proving

something to me. Although I always lost, I got an extraordinary pleasure. After I left you,

that unforgettable pleasure disappeared forever. You are destined to be a pain in my heart forever.

I married into a Japanese family with this eternal pain. With my qualifications, I wouldn't have trouble getting married in China. What worries me

is that I can't forget you, that I'll never be able to leave you, and that I'll unconsciously go back to you.

Not , but it will also cause more conflicts, which is bad for both of us. And yet, you keep asking me

why, why? I only married a Japanese man out of necessity! You fool! You big fool! You enormous fool!

Do you think I willingly left my parents, siblings, my homeland, my familiar surroundings, my friends,

and my excellent job, just to completely leave you, to leave this devil who has ruined my life?

Remember my promise to make love to you again after marriage? I won't break my promise (I learned this from you). I

've given you my friend Hirano; let her fulfill my promise in my place. How about that? Not bad, right? She's

the younger sister of a section chief at my company, still in university, and owns a gift shop specializing in Chinese

trinkets . I've been learning Japanese from her since I arrived; we're friends, very close. I told her about you and me,

and she gave you a thumbs-up after hearing it. So when she went to Beijing this time, I insisted that you personally receive her. Firstly, to let them

see the charm of my ex-boyfriend (I hate you, but you're still the best man in my heart), and secondly

, to fulfill my promise. I achieved my goal; they all came back praising you and even said they wanted to marry you (don't be

secretly happy). They enlarged the photos of you and each gave me a copy.

Then there's Ms. Yako, Hirano's brother and the section chief's girlfriend. I

met her a few times shortly after joining the company; we had dinner together. She's very gentle and also very proud. It won't be

easy for you to woo her; she's more educated than you and beautiful. Go ahead and try if you dare. I've finally repaid what I owed you. I

don't care how many women you have anymore, and I won't hate you anymore. You'll never see your little thing again. But

I will always silently wish you well with the kindest of hopes.

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