I did weird jobs, whatever amusements I could find to change things up before it got boring.” “Like starring in a porno about your own life?” Adelia asked. “That was... novel.” I leaned back. “I think the Japanese game show was one of the weirdest things I experienced during this time. It was... a couple years after the wedding, maybe three and...” January 7th, 2025 I japanese had no idea what the announcer was saying as he spoke in such rapid Japanese. I barely knew any of the language. It wasn't that hard living in Tokyo when you only spoke English, and the TV studio was a big help, providing me with so many comforts so they could have me for their new game show: “Futanari Explosion!” Yep, they used the English word there and it always made me giggle when the announcer said it in this super dramatic voice struggling with the word. The Japanese, I'd learned, had a hard time with L's and multiple consonants piled together. The host, Osamu Kato, had such energy. The balding, short Japanese man, his skin a dark shade of olive, raced up and down the stage as he cheered on the dozen or so women who were running an obstacle course in order to win the grand prize of the game: getting fucked by me live on Japanese TV. I kept hearing my name, pounced as “Bakukee,” shouted by Mr. Osamu as he screamed into his microphone. The dozen women were racing forward through suspended punching bags painted garish shades of pinks and purples. They knocked the naked women around, making their luscious tits jiggle. All were native Japanese women in their twenties or thirties, fit and sexy. The first three to make it to the end would participate in the rest of the show. My dick ached and throbbed as I watched the lead woman—an energetic Japanese gal with round, bouncing tits—burst out of the swinging punching bags and raced to a balance beam over what looked to a pit full of vanilla pudding. The watching crowd whooped and cheered as the naked woman stepped out onto the thin beam, her arms thrust out before her. Her silky, black hair danced about her shoulders as her dainty feet stepped across it. The end of the obstacle course loomed before her. She just had to navigate a steep slope with a moat of a black, tar-like liquid at the bottom. Maybe it was chocolate syrup. Or, here in the Japan, it could have been something else. They had such weird snack foods. A second woman burst out asian of the punching bags, young and youthful. She darted out onto the beam with such confidence. She made it two steps before she slipped. Not cuz I owe you, you cannabinoid-sucking, mouth-breathing, Boston-born, Tom-Brady-loving motherfucker! Sighing she grabbed his other hand to encourage him to show attention to her other breast. After that it was back to the "Hackleberry's" for some intense fucking. “Is… Is Desiree going to be okay?” I timidly asked her. you want to see a guy fucked in the ass by a girl?" After we get asian back to town and got paid we took a closer look at the block our house is on. My body shuddered. The scent of my arousal brushed my nose, a spicy musk. The last person was the dean of japanese students. I put a half stick in each of the three pans getting them to melt. We have returned a great many things to how I feel they should be. There’s the patch of trimmed hair, full, thick, engorged lips and a deep pink gash like raw meat.