I’m not sure when I first became aware of Japanese girls’ beauty and mystique. I do recall jacking off to Maria Ozawa on my old family computer as a teenager, and JAV was a part of my life since then. I first came to Japan when I was 14 for a few weeks. I hadn’t had sex with my girlfriend at the time yet, and we promised to have sex when I came back. I took off with my classmates, and upon landing on a small, warm island in the south of Japan, we paired off with our host families and immersed ourselves in the exciting new culture. I found myself quite popular with some of the girls at the high school – of course I had no idea what I was doing, but the “foreigner power” still had a lot of sway since the place was so rural.
Some of the girls were into me, but I was mindful of my girlfriend back home and our promise to have sex upon my return. I dutifully avoided all the girls on the island in favor of goya champloo, soccer, and my Japanese studies. Still, they haunted my thoughts – yes, in their uniforms. However I remained faithful and went back to the US, only to find my girlfriend had slept with one of my best friends. I was mad at both of them, and wondered who I should be angrier at. However, my biggest regret was not taking advantage of my chance with Japanese girls.
In University, I dated a few, but hugely various women. I had a white, black, and Mexican girlfriend over the four years of college. They all had their merits, but I still wondered and craved those elusive Japanese women. How do you meet and date a Japanese woman?
I got my chance when I studied abroad in my junior year. Once again, I knew little to nothing about what I was doing. I tried to flirt with the Japanese girls at my school, and they seemed somewhat receptive but I was pretty much an idiot about it, failing to actually invite a girl out one on one or bring things to sex. That all changed towards the end of the trip. I slept with one girl, who wasn’t attractive, had a boyfriend (who she soon married), and which I regretted, at her house after I missed my train and she invited me to stay. Then, on the last day before leaving back home, all the exchange students and many Japanese students all went out drinking at karaoke. I ended up missing my last train and found myself with a girl I quite liked – this one was actually quite sexy. We walked around in the middle of the night, wandering towards her friends’ house where we wanted to crash until morning. We stopped by a river and I kissed her. Things escalated and I looked around for a decent place to bang her. Right behind us was a bulldozer. Perfect! We climbed up in the cab and started banging then and there in the drivers seat of the bulldozer. I wanted to start the engine but there were (obviously, but unfortunately nonetheless) no keys. We finished up and walked a little further, until we came across a park with a bench and table under a small pavilion by the riverside. I put the girl up on the table and went at it doggystyle. In the middle of getting it on, some guy walked down the path and froze when he saw us. He slinked back from where he ran down. A few minutes later, I noticed the same face from the bushes, clearly watching us bang. I yelled at him to leave, and the face quickly vanished again.
I went back to the US the next day, with fond memories of banging her in the park and construction equipment. But, I had a problem. I had tasted to forbidden fruit of Japanese girls, and nothing would satiate me until I had more. I planned to move to Japan when I graduated.
I showed up a year later, excited about finally getting to meet Japanese girls and bang them! But my arrival was more like a tragedy than a homecoming. The food was amazing, the city clean and efficient, the people friendly. I had rose-colored glasses. The only issue – I wasn’t getting laid. After a while I slept with a couple girls who weren’t really that hot, at least not up to the standards of what I wanted.
Years later and hundreds and hundreds of Japanese girls later, I think I finally have my finger on what drove me to them in the first place. Like Japanese food, the flavor of their personality is subtle. Whereas American food smashes you with fats, sugars, and lots of flavor, Japanese food prefers a clean, pure, fresh, and simple palate. The women similarly are mild in character (thought not all!), inoffensive, delicate, yet sophisticated.
I could talk about all the normal and often cited reasons:
They dress themselves up to impress and always look at or near their best. Their ornate nails, attention to detail in makeup and fashion, dedication to heels, and willingness to be led by the right man drove me crazy. For the most part they have some culinary ability, or at least are excited to prove their domestic worth by whipping up some food. They aren’t fat. They smell nice and are generally cleaner than women from many other countries.
But to me the most interesting bit isn’t even those. It’s their subtle power.
Whereas women in the US were caught up in trying to be equal by being like men – resulting in less attraction for many of them – Japanese women were comfortable being feminine, and seemed to understand that femininity itself is its own form of power – separate but equal to masculinity. They use the power of the moon, the night, the penumbra and shadows. Their power is not one of direct opposition, but rather one of subtle movement at the periphery. They guide rather than clash, dance rather than fight, redirect rather than strike, curve and curl instead of shooting straight.
The entire seduction is as a fan dance – a play of glances towards and away. He wants to see, wants their eyes to meet, but she plays, covering and showing again. Just when he thinks he has caught her full gaze, she turns away yet again. If he wants her, he must play this game – gazing at her in intervals, as unpredictable as they are frequent, as indirect as they are powerful.