her cruelly as she rolled about ecstatically. My arm rose and fell with increasing vigor. The desire to punish fused in my imagination with the desire to hear her triumphant, pleading sobs and see her pale, sweat-sheened body leap upwards and sideways lustfully to meet the blows. And then suddenly, she emitted a tearful wail and hurled herself at my thighs. One of her hands grasped my cock and thrust it into her mouth. Gazing downwards at the pretty head which sought to bury itself at my groin, I was amazed to see myself once again rigid. No sooner did the realization come over me, than I toppled sideways onto the carpet. She sucked me deeply for several minutes, running her tongue over the shining expanse of my prick head and its turgid length. We wrestled and fought uncontrollably until, once again, her belly rose upwards to expose her naked cunt. I pulled her legs over my shoulders and drove my prick into her with all my might, all thought of precaution forgotten. All I wanted to do was fuck this girl senseless! She breathed deeply between her sobs and our passion caused our flesh to shudder more deeply than I can remember. By this time I had pinioned her hands on either side to the floor so that she lay as though crucified below me. I rose and fell against her, our bellies smacking together in a welter of sweat until, just as the new inundation coursed through the sensitive tissue of my meat, I felt her body grow weak, accepting the ichor of my passion. Her lovely young face, tearful and ecstatic at the same time, pleaded with me to stop.
“Oh,” she cried, “stop nowI can't bear any moreI shall die of pleasure! Please…”
Her eyes were closed and her tremulous young bosom rose and fell out of control. Her limbs were slack and spread on the floor. All possibility of effort had deserted her!
Gently, more tenderly than ever, I rose from her, lifted her in my arms and carried her to the bed.
Ten minutes later she opened her eyes. The coffee which I brought to her was only lukewarm, but it seemed to revive her and she drank it gratefully from the cup I held to her lips.
“You gave me so much love!” she said when she had drunk. “Really, I thought my body would burst with pleasure.”
I kissed her gently and told her to rest for the remainder of the day. I would explain to the manager, I said. She should have no fear of taking the rest she so well deserved and so badly needed. I kissed her, drew the bedclothes upwards over her lovely shoulders and went about my own toilet feeling that I had found at last a country in which love in all its varied beauty was accepted gratefully without shame as the most important gift in a good life.
The manager proved to be a very nice fellow. He cut short my explanations and prayed me to say no more about it. The chambermaid-waitress was a good girl, he said. He would gladly excuse her from her duties for the remainder of the day.
All through the country I had the same experience. Both love and courtesy were present to a degree unknown in Europe. Of course, I soon learned that this courtesy is developed in the home, where everyone bows to age. The grandfather and grandmother are most respected, then come the father and the mother, and then the children. And the children obey the same law: The eldest girl or boy come into the room first, the others follow in order of agean astonishingly courteous people to whom deference is a pleasure. The Japanese language, too, is full of ceremonial phrases which are impossible to translate into any European tongue. They are the politest race in the world and perhaps the most amiable.
Many scenes stand out in my memory. I remember an up-country town where my rickshaw was stopped by some naked girls and women who came out of a bathing place. They all wanted to see if I was white all over and I could only laugh and let them convince themselves. The crowd increased to half a hundred. They were of all ages and all entirely naked. When I touched the breasts of a pretty girl she seemed pleased and the whole crowd laughed as at a good joke. Unfortunately, I had not the time to ascertain whether I could make love with her. I had an appointment which I could not break.
Bit by bit I came to understand that there was not a trace of sexual modesty in Japan from one end to the other. Most of the women could not even understand what Europeans meant by the concept!
Every foreigner is eager to see geishas dancing, but usually is astonished at first to find how modest and how graceful the dances are, more like those of ancient Greece perhaps than any I can think of. But the “modesty” is purely formal. It does not reflect a Puritanism of spirit.
The geisha ya are places where the dancing girls are trained and let out day or evening to tea-houses or private parties. They are generally managed by women. Little girls are taken into these houses and trained not only in the art of dancing, but are also taught singing and samisen playing and all the etiquette of entertaining guests. The geisha is always willing to become the mistress of any foreigner who desires her and from whom she can expect a fair sum of money; but in Japan she is not looked down upon as she would be in Europe. The geisha are the pleasantest part of Japanese entertainments. As soon as the dainty girls enter the room, sometimes in gold or scarlet, and dance as though they are leaves driven by the wind, all the guests wake up. Sometimes the girls will play warrior and copy the warlike gestures of old heroes. Then, suddenly, they give up pretences and come and sit beside their temporary employers, laughing, jesting and drinking.
Soon the foreigner finds out that the geishas are really dancers and that the prostitute or joro is of a lower class altogether. Every city in Japan has its joroya a licensed quarter of prostitution. The supervision is rigid. But even these women are not looked down upon in Japan as they would be in Europe. Many of them are apprenticed in childhood to the keepers of the houses and there trained for their work. A few have sacrificed themselves freely for those they love. Many romances are written about a virtuous joro who has sacrificed herself for her loved one and finds a lover willing and eager to make her again a respectable wife and a mother of decent children.
There are theatres for men and theatres for women, but the two sexes never play on the same stage. I don't know why. The performances last all day from eight or nine in the morning till eight or nine in the evening. They were not especially interesting to me.
But the most peculiar and important entertainment is the fortune-teller. Of course they have a great deal of influence with the lowest class, but they are consulted on important occasionsmarriages, journeysby all classes.
The freedom in Japan is very interesting. I remember being asked by a court official to stay with him and study Japanese manners in his house. My friend, the captain, advised me to accept and I did so.
The first evening, my host told me in his broken English that his wife would be too old to be attractive to me and his daughters too young, but he would send me a pretty girl to entertain me during the night. I laughed, never thinking that he meant what he said.
But when I got to my bedroom, I found a pretty maid awaiting me. As soon as I entered she began to undress. She was too pretty to be sent away. I recognized her at once as the most charming of the servants who had waited on us at table.
Much to my delight, I found that she had an exceedingly small cunt that she had scented with rosewater. We fucked in every position imaginable. I took her flat on her back, with her legs upraised, on her knees in canine fashion, and even as she lay on her side. She seemed to love seeing my stiff cock shuttle in and out of her sopping pussy. She reacted passionately to every variation of embrace and reached her climax at least four times until finally her soft and sweat-lathered body fell limp in my arms. My friend, the captain, laughed when I told him and said that nothing was more usual.
Nevertheless, it is undoubtedly the system of concubinage that degrades the whole status of women in Japan. The Emperor, in accordance with the old Chinese code, is allowed twelve concubines or mekake, the samurai two. All men of the upper class are allowed to introduce these mekake into their families and naturally these concubines, though beneath the wife in position, are often more beloved than the wife herself.
In the lower classes, the wife often protests and maintains her exclusive rights, but the wife of the nobleman is not powerful enough: The nobleman is not dependent on her toil. Consequently, the position of the wife of the noble in Japan is usually unhappy and often tragic. By a recent law, no child of a concubine can inherit a legal title and this may do much to establish the upper class woman in a more secure position.
During my travels in that country I often came upon some woman or girl taking a bath. Never did I see the slightest trace of embarrassment, much less modesty. The woman would get out of the hot bath and proceed to dry herself with her little blue towel just as if there was no man within ten miles of her. I would watch excitedly as she dabbed her breasts, belly, and the generous mossing on her mount. She would proceed without concern. At the same time I have heard Japanese ladies speak scornfully of the low-necked dresses worn by English and American ladies at Court. Who will ever explain the thousand eccentricities of manners?
In many respects I found life in Japan much saner than life in Europe. But in one respect there was no comparison. If you took a geisha as a mistress and asked her whether she was healthy or not, you could rely on her
