From the other direction, she was calling my eye It could be an illusion, but I might as well try.
She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes, And I knew without askin' she was into the blues.
She wore Scarlet Begonias tucked into her curls, I knew right away she was not like other girls -- other girls.
Excerpt from 'Scarlet Begonias'
Words by Robert Hunter; music by Jerry Garcia
=====================
Dazed.
I stood in the middle of the second floor of my favorite Starbucks in Shibuya (the one diagonally across from Tokyu Honten) and wondered if Cupid had traded-in arrows for lightning bolts. Or, perhaps, Zeus accidentally nailed me with some friendly fire.
Weak-kneed and whoosey, I walked toward an empty chair across from the tallest & cutest J-Girl in Shibuya as she waved at me and bathed me in a 50,000 watt smile.
Imagine a tall 21-year-old J-Girl with a body like Halle Berry [her bikini scenes in the James Bond movie "Die Another Day" or her lingerie scene in the action movie "Swordfish"]; and a sweet wholesome face somewhat similar to Mandy Moore (if Mandy was Japanese). She also has short sassy hair like Halle.
She had great everything else too: legs, caboose [more Latin than Asian] and rack. I instantly found myself in my own personal Land Of Smiles as I couldn't stop grinning and I couldn't take my eyes off of Keiko.
I counted my blessings as sheer persistence had brought me to the brink of paradise. I had logged time at Terekura clubs in Shibuya and Kabukicho as well as a hybrid Date Club in Shinjuku. Also, on my lunch hours, I had been carpet-bombing various Japanese penpal sites with the same brief message:
"I am a tall, athletic, married American man who wants a secret girlfriend in Tokyo."
In approaching J-Girls through penpal sites, it's often best to keep your messages short – most J-Girls receive their ****** via their cell phones, not as many have PCs.
Prior to Keiko, I received only a handful of replies to my ****** campaign, most of whom "advised" me to take care of my wife. Farq!!!
I had experienced a moderately successful contact with a J-Girl college student in Tokyo through AdultFriendFinder, but it was difficult to arrange meetings with her (she will be the subject of a future post) and our encounters were few and far between.
A few others were curious enough to meet me, including a very cute petite 21-year-old college student, a reasonably attractive 26-year-old OL and a reasonably attractive very slender 22-year-old Chinese college girl from Shanghai. Long story short: nothing serious happened with them.
However, Keiko was enthusiastic from the start. As she is tall, 180 cm; and played organized basketball in high school [still plays regularly], she replied that she was looking for a tall athletic stylish boyfriend.
A fastball right in my strike zone – which I slammed over the centerfield fence into the upper deck of the Tokyo Dome.
In my initial ****** contacts, I downwardly revised my age and height.
However, as our correspondence progressed, I informed her that I was actually 43 years old and 200 cm tall. No problem with Keiko. I told her that she could feel free to wear her highest heels, or atsuzoku gutsu [Kogal-style platform shoes], if we met in person. After three days of actively trading messages, we arranged our first date.
With a Latte in hand, I sat down across from Keiko and started conversing. Other people must have thought we were stoned on ganja, high on X or outright deranged: we couldn't stop smiling at each other.
It was just coffee and conversation, but sparks were flying like tracers in a moonless midnight fire fight.
My knowledge of Japanese paid off big time: Keiko can't speak English.
That's fine. I was in Japan and Keiko is Japanese. We started by seeking common ground - talking about the things we like, such as food and places in Tokyo. Keiko spoke in sweet melodious hush tones that made me glad I was in Tokyo and not in New York. Everything flowed smoothly and the mutual smiling continued.
At one point, Keiko sensed that it was best to move on to another location and she politely recommended a change of venue.
I could have suggested a Love Hotel, but I thought that might seem too aggressive, not to mention it would create scheduling conflicts on this particular day. I offered a less risky alternative: a Karaoke Box.
Friends say these places are great for making out, yet they aren't as obvious as a Love Hotel. We could sing, or make out, or sing and make out. Keiko politely made excuses for why she felt a Karaoke Box wasn't our best option. Nice try on my part.
We settled for a quieter upscale coffee place down the street. The good vibes and smiling continued. Keiko also shared a funny story.
Five minutes prior to my arrival, another Caucasian man walked up to the second floor of that Starbucks. Keiko looked at him -- a wrinkled, battered-looking, gray-haired 60-something who was significantly shorter than 200 cm -- and she muttered angrily to herself "Liar!"
However, that man found an empty seat without searching for anyone.
Keiko said that situation made her even happier when I arrived.
[For the record: several J-Girls have complained to me that some of the foreigners they have met from the Net have been less-than-honest in their descriptions.]
Eventually, I made my move to hold Keiko's hand. At first, she objected, saying she felt too shy. Resistance is futile. By the end of our date, she was affectionately stroking my hand. She also let me briefly stroke her arm, which seemed as smooth as an Hermes scarf.
While holding hands, Keiko put her cards on the table and laid-out her ground rules (in Japanese):
"It's okay that you are 43 years old and that I am 21. It's okay that you are married and have two children. However, if you want me to be your secret girlfriend, I have to be your ONLY secret girlfriend. NO OTHER SECRET GIRLFRIENDS! Also, I want to be your girlfriend, not your sex friend. Sex only is boring! Is this okay?"
Done! I quickly agreed. It wasn't hard to come to that decision. Keiko is a Major Babe and it had been many weeks since I had any encounters with my other J-Girl secret girlfriends. Our date ended soon after that. When we parted company, both of us seemed to be in a state of incredible elation. I felt like doing cartwheels down the sidewalk back to my subway station. All seemed right in the world.
=====================
The wind in the willows played Tea for Two The sky was yellow and the sun was blue Strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hand Everybody's playing in the Heart of Gold Band
Excerpt from 'Scarlet Begonias'
She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes, And I knew without askin' she was into the blues.
She wore Scarlet Begonias tucked into her curls, I knew right away she was not like other girls -- other girls.
Excerpt from 'Scarlet Begonias'
Words by Robert Hunter; music by Jerry Garcia
=====================
Dazed.
I stood in the middle of the second floor of my favorite Starbucks in Shibuya (the one diagonally across from Tokyu Honten) and wondered if Cupid had traded-in arrows for lightning bolts. Or, perhaps, Zeus accidentally nailed me with some friendly fire.
Weak-kneed and whoosey, I walked toward an empty chair across from the tallest & cutest J-Girl in Shibuya as she waved at me and bathed me in a 50,000 watt smile.
Imagine a tall 21-year-old J-Girl with a body like Halle Berry [her bikini scenes in the James Bond movie "Die Another Day" or her lingerie scene in the action movie "Swordfish"]; and a sweet wholesome face somewhat similar to Mandy Moore (if Mandy was Japanese). She also has short sassy hair like Halle.
She had great everything else too: legs, caboose [more Latin than Asian] and rack. I instantly found myself in my own personal Land Of Smiles as I couldn't stop grinning and I couldn't take my eyes off of Keiko.
I counted my blessings as sheer persistence had brought me to the brink of paradise. I had logged time at Terekura clubs in Shibuya and Kabukicho as well as a hybrid Date Club in Shinjuku. Also, on my lunch hours, I had been carpet-bombing various Japanese penpal sites with the same brief message:
"I am a tall, athletic, married American man who wants a secret girlfriend in Tokyo."
In approaching J-Girls through penpal sites, it's often best to keep your messages short – most J-Girls receive their ****** via their cell phones, not as many have PCs.
Prior to Keiko, I received only a handful of replies to my ****** campaign, most of whom "advised" me to take care of my wife. Farq!!!
I had experienced a moderately successful contact with a J-Girl college student in Tokyo through AdultFriendFinder, but it was difficult to arrange meetings with her (she will be the subject of a future post) and our encounters were few and far between.
A few others were curious enough to meet me, including a very cute petite 21-year-old college student, a reasonably attractive 26-year-old OL and a reasonably attractive very slender 22-year-old Chinese college girl from Shanghai. Long story short: nothing serious happened with them.
However, Keiko was enthusiastic from the start. As she is tall, 180 cm; and played organized basketball in high school [still plays regularly], she replied that she was looking for a tall athletic stylish boyfriend.
A fastball right in my strike zone – which I slammed over the centerfield fence into the upper deck of the Tokyo Dome.
In my initial ****** contacts, I downwardly revised my age and height.
However, as our correspondence progressed, I informed her that I was actually 43 years old and 200 cm tall. No problem with Keiko. I told her that she could feel free to wear her highest heels, or atsuzoku gutsu [Kogal-style platform shoes], if we met in person. After three days of actively trading messages, we arranged our first date.
With a Latte in hand, I sat down across from Keiko and started conversing. Other people must have thought we were stoned on ganja, high on X or outright deranged: we couldn't stop smiling at each other.
It was just coffee and conversation, but sparks were flying like tracers in a moonless midnight fire fight.
My knowledge of Japanese paid off big time: Keiko can't speak English.
That's fine. I was in Japan and Keiko is Japanese. We started by seeking common ground - talking about the things we like, such as food and places in Tokyo. Keiko spoke in sweet melodious hush tones that made me glad I was in Tokyo and not in New York. Everything flowed smoothly and the mutual smiling continued.
At one point, Keiko sensed that it was best to move on to another location and she politely recommended a change of venue.
I could have suggested a Love Hotel, but I thought that might seem too aggressive, not to mention it would create scheduling conflicts on this particular day. I offered a less risky alternative: a Karaoke Box.
Friends say these places are great for making out, yet they aren't as obvious as a Love Hotel. We could sing, or make out, or sing and make out. Keiko politely made excuses for why she felt a Karaoke Box wasn't our best option. Nice try on my part.
We settled for a quieter upscale coffee place down the street. The good vibes and smiling continued. Keiko also shared a funny story.
Five minutes prior to my arrival, another Caucasian man walked up to the second floor of that Starbucks. Keiko looked at him -- a wrinkled, battered-looking, gray-haired 60-something who was significantly shorter than 200 cm -- and she muttered angrily to herself "Liar!"
However, that man found an empty seat without searching for anyone.
Keiko said that situation made her even happier when I arrived.
[For the record: several J-Girls have complained to me that some of the foreigners they have met from the Net have been less-than-honest in their descriptions.]
Eventually, I made my move to hold Keiko's hand. At first, she objected, saying she felt too shy. Resistance is futile. By the end of our date, she was affectionately stroking my hand. She also let me briefly stroke her arm, which seemed as smooth as an Hermes scarf.
While holding hands, Keiko put her cards on the table and laid-out her ground rules (in Japanese):
"It's okay that you are 43 years old and that I am 21. It's okay that you are married and have two children. However, if you want me to be your secret girlfriend, I have to be your ONLY secret girlfriend. NO OTHER SECRET GIRLFRIENDS! Also, I want to be your girlfriend, not your sex friend. Sex only is boring! Is this okay?"
Done! I quickly agreed. It wasn't hard to come to that decision. Keiko is a Major Babe and it had been many weeks since I had any encounters with my other J-Girl secret girlfriends. Our date ended soon after that. When we parted company, both of us seemed to be in a state of incredible elation. I felt like doing cartwheels down the sidewalk back to my subway station. All seemed right in the world.
=====================
The wind in the willows played Tea for Two The sky was yellow and the sun was blue Strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hand Everybody's playing in the Heart of Gold Band
Excerpt from 'Scarlet Begonias'