Y’all still here??? Damn, are y’all homeless??
Then I guess that means the party ain’t over yet!
I know, I slipped in a post the other day about change and butterflies, and what not, just to let y’all know I hadn’t given up the ghost! I had an itch I had to scratch.
Y’all know how I get down.
Then, what happens? My next DJ tells me she willing to come freak the funk, as long as she could do it her way! And, as y’all are about to find out, she ain’t the kind of woman that takes no for an answer. Can’t put restraints on this one (unless she invites you to.) She’s wild like that, but that’s why I love her!
Ain’t nothing meek about Mika, or Mima-chan, as I lovingly call her.
Nothing at all!
So brace yourselves cuz it’s time for another slammin’ set from:
And, it being Friday and all, and in the thick of the rainy season so a little on the wet and chilly side here in lovely Yokohama, I thought I’d give y’all something sure to get you all hot and ready to give a little sumptin sumptin to that certain someone…or at least a good laugh.
I think we gonna have to go Old Skool to warm up the stage for Mima…
I mentioned that I’ve only a met a handful of fellow bloggers. Mima here is one of them. It was a memorable night! I think that’s all I need to say about my girl and that night. She’ll tell you the rest…rest assured.
So, without further ado, Mima-chan, Treat ’em right:
Loco and I are two peas from the same dirty pod called Brooklyn, New York. It’s rather amazing that we grew up in the same neighborhood and never knew it. Like a lot of people these days, we met online via Twitter and after chatting it up for a little bit, it became immediately apparent we were going to get along famously. Given the circumstances under which we met in person, it might have been a little too famous and things got kind of crazy. Before I get to that though, let me tell you a little bit about me.
Mika is my name, but my friends call me Mima. While my primary love is writing, I do a little bit of everything: chef, financial executive, singer… you name it, I can probably do it to some functional capacity, if not better. Except swim. (But I’m working on that.) Either way, my days are spent doing the day job to pay the bills and on nights & weekends, I write romance and erotica, usually taking place in Japan. It’s so much fun to have sex on the brain day and night, resulting in some freaky, horndog ideas. There’s something about Japan that is inherently erotic, all the wacky sexual paraphernalia they produce aside.
Essentially, there’s two sides to me: Mika is the good girl; Mima’s the dirty, naughty one. I have a hard time taming that side, as evidenced by when Loco and I finally met.
I was visiting Tokyo just over a year ago and knew I had to hook up with him in person because there comes a point when talking online half a world away just isn’t enough anymore. We met at an overly crowded Yokohama Station and while I knew what he looked like, he was much more imposing face-to-face than I expected. For damned sure, he was no lanky, skinny pant wearing kind of man and God bless him for it. He’s way too black for that. Tall, broad and meaty… those were the best adjectives to describe Loco – believe me, that’s a mighty fine combination. Of course, we decided to meet on the Friday before a holiday weekend, so it took a little time to find a place that had room for us to get our drink on. Once we settled in at a cute little izakaya, we talked nonstop about everything from his Japan experiences to reminiscing about the good `ol days in Brooklyn. It’d been a long time since I had such an engaging conversation! The more we talked, the more we ate and drank.
We drank like fish over the course of several hours before calling it quits close to two in the morning. There was no way I was heading back to Tokyo at that hour – no running trains — so we roamed the streets of Yokohama instead. We stumbled down street after street, laughing at innocuous things like massage advertisements with crappy English on it or the Japanese man wearing a cowboy hat for no apparent reason. We couldn’t figure out if he was trying to invoke the old “everything is bigger in Texas” adage! Then, I nearly pissed myself when I saw a man misstep as he walked into a public restroom.
This is where things got a little fresh.
I knew I was drunk, enough to sway in the street as I walked. For starters, I wasn’t wearing much to begin with, the Indian summer weather of September still keeping the city relatively warm. At most, I had a light shorts and sleeveless shirt combination on. We turned down another street and saw some guys coming out of a bar in one of the many “yokocho” areas. There was a spectacularly hot guy there, not in the effeminate way many Japanese guys look, but surprisingly manly.
During the course of the evening, I admitted to Loco that I have a thing for Japanese guys, to which he wondered aloud, “Yeah, that I don’t really get… but okay. Foreign guys for Japanese ladies, sure, I can see that. But the other way around? What’s the appeal?”
I actually had to think about that for a moment before responding. “It’s something different. I’ve been with guys from different cultures before, just not Japanese. Seems strange given my huge interest to not try it at least once.”
“Fair enough, then. Since you’re here, I guess we should do something about that,” he responded, his eyebrow arched conspiratorially. We? What was this ‘we’ business?
Now I understood. Loco, the damned instigator, poked me and pushed me forward. “I see you staring at him. Go!” he goaded me, crossing his arms and leaning against a street pole. “Let’s see how Mima works her ‘thang’.” His chuckle was downright evil.
My hands were on my hips and I gave Loco a dirty look. “Grr…” I muttered under my breath. There were actually two Japanese guys just standing around,smoking cigarettes and talking. After a second look, I was sold. Yeah, one of them was hot!
Oh, what the hell, I thought, why not…
With full body sashay rocking, I walked up to the two guys and interrupted their conversation. As much as I intended to say it in Japanese, only English managed to emerge in my drunken state. “Hi!” I said exuberantly, waving to grab their attention. “Do you understand English?” Both of them half nodded, but the hot one actually spoke.
Gotcha, I thought. Let me hit him with the coup de grace. “I saw you from down the street and I was wondering if I could suck your cock.”
Even I was astonished by what came out of my mouth! I knew Loco heard what I said, even at that distance, and I heard him try to muffle his maniacal laughter.
The two men looked at each other and clearly understood some of what I said. They’d probably done some American porn watching in their day. They had to be thinking to themselves:
“She’s a hot looking foreigner!”
“Did she say suck my…”
I put my hands on my hips and gave them an impatient glare. “So what’s it gonna be, fellas?” Their quick nod was good enough for me. I gave them a wide smile and lead them into the nearby alleyway.
A sense of security grounded me knowing that Loco was watching my back as I ventured into this unknown and absolutely crazy situation. Truth was, I wasn’t certain how I was going to like the outcome, but a part of me was hoping for the best; that it would be a fun experience. They both leaned against the wall, scant lighting hitting all three of us and leaving us mostly in the shadows. Both of the guys were probably in their early twenties and I noted their lack of experience in the way they reached for my body.
“Uh uh uh!” I tsked, pulling back from them. “I’m just here to suck you off. Take it or leave it.”
While I was sure they didn’t understand the last part, they pulled back and simply unzipped their pants, finally understanding what the deal was. I slid my hand into the hot guy’s pants, easing down into his underwear. For a moment I was taken aback by the amount of unoccupied space until I finally found him.
“What the hell…?” I muttered, examining his hardware. He wasn’t fully erect, but I could feel it was semi-hard. Still, there wasn’t that much to it. I’d been spoiled by black and hispanic men for some time, so my mind was anticipating something a bit more substantial. It was small. Really small.
Maybe the other guy was a bit more endowed, I thought. I hoped. So, I released the first one and went to the friend, making the same motion with my other free hand. Much to my chagrin, it was the same!
The liquor in my veins did nothing to temper my next words, pure Sagittarian honesty blazing. “Are you kidding me? You call that a cock? Really?” I released them both and took a step back.
“And to think I was trying to prove the stereotype wrong!”
While they didn’t understand my words, they certainly understood my motion and didn’t like the turnabout in expectations. They exchanged some words in Japanese too fast for me to catch and clasped their pants closed.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Loco emerge from the shadows looming with ominous presence. The standoff moment was quick. Their heads turned, and before Loco could utter a words, the two guys dashed off down the alleyway in the opposite direction.
“You’re absolutely crazy,” Loco exclaimed, shaking his head.
I crossed my arms and shook my head, too. “Look, I didn’t think it was going to be that bad. Reminded me of vienna sausages!”
The whole experience sobered me up a little, but one thing was for certain: good penis is way too important to set aside and Japanese guys didn’t seem to make the cut, which was just too damned bad.
And I fully blame Loco for precipitating it all.
@Mika: Don’t try and put that ish on me…you know you buck wild! I was just a spectator. Thanks for sharing this story, though, in that way that only you can. No way was I gonna do it even if I could.
This party WILL continue…
PS: Click on the links below to jam with the previous guest DJs!