I lost my virginity in America when I was 18 years old. And in the years since I had lost my virginity, I have had really good sex, amazing sex, with lots and lots of amazing white men, most of them whom were from America. I don’t want to give out a body count of exactly how many people I’ve had sex with, because, first, it’s very high, but also, second, I’ve a hard time keeping count since I’ve also worked as an escort and stripper when I was in America.

Recently I moved back to Japan for family reasons but I travel back and forth between Japan and USA and I go to USA every other month to take care of my 18 year old son, who is attending college in Boston.

Even though I’ve had sex with lots of men, I’ve learned in the process that getting fucked and being kinky are actually quite different. I learned this the hard way after three failed marriages.

I’m a very kinky woman, and sometimes when you are with a man who is not comfortable with that kink, especially when you have to live with each other for long (there are so much more things complicating a relationship than sex, unfortunately), things tend to fall apart rather quickly.

I’ve those needs that cannot be satisfied through regular vanilla sex, and even though I’ve had a very high body count, I started to realize that I haven’t had nearly enough kink.

Sometimes I feel like when I meet people and what I have hoped to be those very kinky, very exciting and very romantic encounters would almost immediately fizzle as soon as they started. They are tame, unsatisfying, and deeply disappointing, and, I learned, it was not actually the fault of the men; rather, it was me.

I would leave, and sometimes, literally being kicked out and left on the side curb, with their sperm swimming inside my tummy, or deposited deep inside my rectum, and still yearning for more. I did not want it to be the entire show. There’s nothing wrong with that. I love being naked, my bare legs spread wide apart, with my mouth gagged, my pussy soaked, and my asshole used and abused. But those encounters rarely end up with me being tied up and abused the way I had imagined. They rarely end up with me being stripped naked in a park or an empty garage. They rarely end up with me being spanked, whipped, collared, leashed, paraded around, made to feel like a worthless whore. The men may talk about using me as a urinal in a local adult theater, but it never actually happened. Sadly.

Before I go further, I want to add: of course I do do vetting. I don’t want to be another Anna Yagi in a Naha hotel or the next Tunchanok Donhomla stuffed inside a suitcase in a Pattaya hotel. I may be a slut, a whore, a masochist, but I’m not naive about the world I live in. I am not so innocent to believe every word a man says.

In addition, trust really matters too. Especially for extreme play. Sometimes, I guess, a fantasy just has to forever remain a fantasy, until the right man—Mr. Right—arrives. Until the exact right time, right circumstance, luck, chance, surreptitious love arrive.

Exploring my own sexuality, minced and seasoned with contemplation, reflection, and self-examination, I’ve come to the realization that I need more kink in my life. I love being fucked too. That could never stop. But being fucked should come, like the climatic scene of a staged play, at the very end, strictly following the Aristotelian unity of action arranging mythos, ethos, dianoia, lexis, melos, and opsis in an enchanted mimesis to achieve that final catharsis.

Because deeply, I believe, sex is an art. And I need a man who is versed in this art to bring me to that final Enlightenment:

To the blissful state of Bodhi and Vimutti.

So, yes I want to be fucked. But I also want foreplay. I want fucked up fetishes. I want to be covered in piss and cum, with sweat, spit, and quirt dripping out of all my holes. I want to be begging for more even after the eventual anagnorisis.

It feels good to be held down and pumped full of cum every Saturday, but I want more than feeling good. I want to feel enraptured.

I’ve spent decades wanting things in a certain and I had always been too afraid to ask for them, much less to ever try them, and I’ll soon be reaching the point of no return in my life. I’m done being the regular run of the mill Asian slut who feels satisfied just being stretched and impaled by a white cock. I’m ready to be the heroine of my own play, the protagonist of my own fantasies.