Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Tokyo’s underground sex industry was what I had to write about. My heart and mind craved to drink it all in. The need burned in my veins. As I stood among these enticing females, watching them lure men and their wallets to the bathing areas-similar to Homer’s Sirens drawing sailors to a rocky death, I filled with energy.
Every detail had to be absorbed, every image devoured until it was imprinted in my memory forever.
Goodness. These women are even more beautiful than the pictures on the website.
All around me, these enticing creatures escorted men to bathing areas. Make-up decorated exotic faces. Jewels glittered along slender necks and dangled from ears.
I spotted dresses that would've damaged my already depleted bank account and inhaled some of the sweetest perfumes lingering in the air.
Men of all different races, sizes, and ages coupled with mainly Japanese women, although I noticed a few blondes and other females with complexions as dark brown as mine.
“Are you sure the manager is going to let you observe everything?” Zo raised a blond eyebrow. “Even the soapy massages?”
“That was the deal.” Tucking a few of my kinky curls behind my ear, I returned to my recorder.
The little machine had seen better days. Scratches covered the sides. Paint scraped the front. Duct tape kept the batteries in.
We headed down the hall and entered another space with marble stairs, lush carpeting, and sparkling chandlers.
Brilliant centerpieces rested on every table, consisting of heart-shaped glasses, platinum beads, and dozens of candles intertwined with flowers.
Tons of half-naked women pampered the men at those tables; massaging their shoulders, pouring them sake even a few singing and dancing in taunting movements.
Their feminine laughter filled the place and even made me a bit giddy.
This is perfect for my book.
It was an adult circus for the dark and erotic part of the soul.
Waiters carried out immaculate dishes with simmering meats and creamy sauces that emitted a heavenly aroma.
A huge fountain of chocolate stood in the center.
I watched two Ethiopian women dunk slices of cake into the sweet liquid and then feed it to the men next to them.
On the far right of the staircase was a full bar.
On the left, a long buffet table where six nude women lounged on their backs.
Pearl masks covered their faces.
Various types of sushi decorated their tan flesh.
Many of the male customers crowded around them. Some men dipped their chopsticks between the women's legs.
Now talk about catering to the senses.
Lust swam inside my core, craving to burst out of my pores and take me over. But I had a book to complete, as well as a writing career and credit score to save.
Pleasure had to wait for another day.
Zo stopped us by the bar, “Okay where’s this manager at?”
“We’re supposed to go to his office.”
“Why didn’t he just meet us at the door?”
“Look, I was happy he was even going to let me come in here and observe. I’d gotten shut down by all the other places in Tokyo.”
Zo glanced around at the half-naked women laughing near the buffet then lowered his voice and leaned in. “Things aren’t like in the States. Sex is super private here in Japan. There’s a whole coded etiquette around pleasure. You don’t brag. You don’t overshare. You just—know where to go and keep it discreet.”
That made sense.
Not much English literature existed on Tokyo’s sex industry. The culture closed their doors to outsiders, which they called gaijin, literally meaning “outside person.”
Although Zo lived in Tokyo for ten years, he would still be considered a gaijin, even if he stayed in the city for the rest of his life.
Additionally, not many of the kinky spots serviced foreigners.
The few that did, remained silent to sociologists, anthropologists, and basically non-fiction writers like me who were fascinated with the whole scene.
At least money talks here like it does in the states.
I sighed. “Jun and I exchanged emails before I left New York. My publisher’s Tokyo office helped me with the correspondence and monitored everything.”
“But have you met this guy in-person?”
“I met with him this morning and handed over the money.”
“Money?”
“Sometimes you have to give a little cash to the locals to get an insider's look.”
“Not in Tokyo. There's no honor in bribes, so if someone is asking for money then they're probably a shady character. Honor is important here,” Zo looked around. His gaze went to a half-naked woman dropping grapes into a chubby man’s mouth and then back to me. "How much did you give him?”
“$5,000.00.”
“Yen?”
“US dollars. My bank account was not happy about that either.”
“Jesus Christ, Nyomi. I wish you would've let me come with you when you met him.”
“No use crying over spilled milk.”
“And what do you get for 5k? It better be room and lodging for a month.”
“I have two weeks access. I can interview the employees, walk through bathing areas, as well as observe any erotic cleansing sessions if the customers agree,” I headed off. “Let’s go. Jun said his office is past the second lounge.”