Sex is the best way to learn about other cultures. - Chapter 4

“Thank you very much.”

I waved to the old couple who gave me a ride halfway to my destination and set off into a new town.

“HOLBROOK?”

I didn’t know how to pronounce it, but the town named HOLBROOK was a rural place with vast open fields.

Since leaving Los Angeles, the view had been mostly desert.

It sounds like a setting for a Western movie, but the rural town with no restaurants or accommodations was hard for a backpacker like me.

To make matters worse, I only had fifty dollars left. The money I earned at Lucy’s restaurant (or rather, half of it was a tip from Liz) was almost gone.

It’s been three days since I parted ways with Amanda in Flagstaff. I’d hitchhiked a few times to get to this rural town, but at this rate, I’d run out of money.

I still had some time left in my summer vacation, but I had to earn some money somehow…

“But… that said…”

The old couple (Mr. and Mrs. Thompson) dropped me off in the middle of nowhere. They probably did it because it was the fork in the road to my destination, but I wished they’d taken me to the center of town or the motel area just before this. This desolate wilderness was full of snakes and scorpions, making it hard to sleep outside. Plus, I was so hungry I felt like I might die.

“…Can’t do much about it.”

I took out a marker pen and a cardboard box and started preparing to hitchhike again.

I wrote “Central” on the box in my poor English. I couldn’t help it if I were to be shunned for a strangely faraway destination. For now, I just wanted to get to the center of town.

Still, there was no sign of any cars. I’d been in the U.S. for nearly ten days now. I was used to cars stopping for two or three hours at a time, and I’d even grown accustomed to being teased in English as I left. But this was the first time I’d seen no cars at all.

“The world is big, huh…”

I just stared up at the vast sky.

The endless wilderness and the bright blue sky that seemed to stretch all the way to the stratosphere filled my entire field of vision.

The only things growing in the wilderness were unfamiliar shrubs and a bit of grass here and there. The signs scattered around were all in English letters, making me realize once again that I was in a foreign country, not Japan.

The air on my skin, the smells tickling my nose, and the color of the sky above all felt different from Japan.

I should have been extremely worried about standing in such a place with only about five thousand yen, but for some reason, I felt like everything would work out somehow.

Even if no cars are passing by now, a truck will come along in twenty or thirty minutes and give me a ride to the center of town.

This is America, after all. The number one country in the world.

The Wild West days are long gone, you know…

“Huh?”

I frown at the sound of approaching footsteps.

I’m not on a concert hall stage, I’m in the middle of nowhere. There shouldn’t be any human footsteps here.

But those rhythmic sounds are hitting my ears.

I turned around at the sound of some kind of neighing, and there was…

“A horse…?”

A massive horse is standing there.

It’s a huge chestnut-colored horse, much taller than I am, looking down at me with a calm attitude.

For a moment, I wondered if I’d really traveled back in time to the Wild West, but a single word brings me back to reality.

“Are you a backpacker?”

The voice comes from atop the horse.

When I look closer, I see a blonde woman wearing a cowboy hat sitting on the horse.

In her thirties… maybe halfway through? I still wasn’t sure about her exact age, but she reminded me of the slang term “MILF”.

Her beautiful wavy blonde hair was not golden, but somewhere between golden and chestnut, making me realize that there are many different types of blonde.

Her emerald green eyes and the well-proportioned features unique to white women made her look youthful, but she was older than the blonde woman I met in Los Angeles, or Amanda, the truck driver.

I could see two voluptuous br3asts through her beige and brown shirt. This woman was truly impressive. Of course, there are white women with small br3asts, but those with large br3asts have an impressiveness that is unimaginable for Japanese people.

Her legs in her jeans were very long, and the swell of her buttocks was also impressive.

With her horse, cool outfit, and sturdy boots, she was a beauty reminiscent of a cowboy from a Western movie.

No, since she was a woman, should I call her a cowgirl? Either way, she’s an adult woman so captivating that I can’t help but get lost in her looks.

“Y-Yes. I’m a backpacker.”

Just as she said, I’m a traveler. If I don’t have money, I’ll sleep outside or go a day without food, just drinking water. I don’t know why she wants to know this, but there doesn’t seem to be any point in lying, so I tell the truth.

“Well…”

She looked at me as if appraising me from her horse.

To be honest, I don’t have good looks. I wasn’t popular at all in Japan, so in Europe with its many beautiful women and handsome men, I’m sure I’m at the bottom of the social ladder.

“Wouldn’t you like to work for my home?”

“Huh?”

I inadvertently responded in Japanese.

Would you like to work for us?

If my rusty English served me right, that’s what she had said.

“Where?”

I asked a simple question, and she seemed to understand it fine.

“At the farm.”

◆　◇　◆　◇　◆

“Are you Chinese?”

“Ja, Japanese…”

Since coming to America, I’d grown used to being mistaken for Chinese or Korean. It happened so often that I realized just how many Chinese people there are in the world. To white people, especially, all East Asians probably look alike. I guess they just assume anyone with Asian features is Chinese.

On the way, I saw several people who looked Chinese or of Chinese descent. There were some Japanese and Koreans like me, too, but statistically, it was more likely that someone would be Chinese. In that sense, she must be used to seeing Asians, like cowgirls in the West. She didn’t treat me with the same kind of prejudice or look down on me like other Asians I’d met before.

But right now, I wasn’t used to my situation at all.

“It’s so high…”

I couldn’t help but speak my thoughts in Japanese. Yes, I was now on horseback.

I was riding on the back of her horse, galloping through the desert wilderness.

“What?”

Naturally, she didn’t understand Japanese and asked me to repeat myself. She was concentrating on steering the horse, so she didn’t turn around. She just kept looking straight ahead.

My first-ever horseback riding experience was far more terrifying than I’d imagined.

For starters, the view from up here was way too high. It made me feel even higher than sitting in a car with a sunroof.

And to top it off, there were no seat belts or anything to hold on to. If this horse started bucking, I’d probably go flying off in a heartbeat. I didn’t have any confidence I could survive that. If a huge horse trampled me, I doubt even my tough frame could take it.

“Hold on to my waist.”

Perhaps sensing my fear, she told me to hold on to her waist.

I guess there wasn’t much else I could hold on to while riding a horse, but clinging to the waist of such a beautiful white woman was a big deal for someone like me, who’d never been with a girl before.

“Eh, excuse me.”

Still, I had no choice. I didn’t want to fall off my horse and die in a foreign land like this. I timidly reached out to the woman’s waist and grabbed her from behind, embracing her lightly.

Realizing this, I thought that this woman had a solid build.

Not only was she tall, but every part of her body was a size larger than Japanese girls.

The woman was probably taller than me, but because she sat lower on the horse, we ended up about the same height or maybe even slightly shorter. That meant her legs were incredibly long. Her hips were high up. It reminded me of when I’d had s3x with Amanda from behind—it seemed like all these white women had great bodies.

(This is bad…)

Every time I realize how superior white people are, I remember having s3x with Amanda. Although we weren’t pressed against each other, the act of grabbing her waist from behind made me think of s3x in the standing or doggy-style position.

Worse yet, resting against my grip on her hips were her ample… assets.

The woman I had s3x with in Los Angeles and Amanda both had br3asts that could truly be called huge. They were probably above average here too. In Japan, Liz’s size would easily be considered large, so white women tend to have large br3asts.

If I moved my hand just a little higher, I could probably feel mounds as big as or even bigger than Amanda’s. But I knew right away that would earn me a painful slap.

Women here seemed cool and composed. They knew how to protect themselves, or maybe even carry guns like Amanda. If that happened, a defenseless Asian guy like me could end up tied up or worse turned into cattle feed.

If I could have s3x with her, I’m sure it would feel amazing.

But that’s impossible. Up until now, I’d had some very lucky encounters, including a professional prostitute (though now that I think about it, I don’t think I even gave her any money), a girl in a honey trap, a teenage shop owner struggling with a labor shortage, and a truck driver with a free-s3x disposition.

Normally, a boring Japanese person like me would never have the chance to have s3x with a beautiful American woman, but I was lucky enough to have had it three times.

But such a good story can’t happen that often.

If it were to happen, I’d need to reconsider my understanding of American women.

Maybe they value free s3x more than I thought. Whether you’re white or Asian, they might be willing to give you a chance at any moment.

That’s the kind of people who have s3x as a greeting and wouldn’t think twice about accepting a stranger’s p3nis.

But is there such a good deal?

If that’s the case, then all the unpopular Japanese like me should move to America. After all, we could potentially have free s3x with women who are celebrities or adult film stars– or even better — for free, in some cases.

“We’re here.”

While I was lost in these wild fantasies, the horse we were riding had reached our destination.

In the middle of a vast wilderness stood a single house and several animal sheds. The area was fenced with wooden rails, and the grassy fields stretched out as far as the eye could see.

Yes, this was a picture-perfect farm. She planned to make me work here.

“I’m Alicia. What’s your name?”

She got off her horse and reached out her hand to me on horseback. Her shirt revealed her ample cleavage, and she introduced herself as Alicia.

I looked away from her chest and gently took her hand.

“Daisuke…”

Getting off the horse took more courage than I expected. From this height, it was less like getting off and more like jumping. As a beginner rider, it was almost natural for Alicia to offer me her hand.

But as I took her hand, I noticed something.

There was a shining ring on her left ring finger.

“Hey Mom, did you find a new person?”

I turned to the unfamiliar voice to see a blonde girl standing there.

Since she called Alicia “Mom,” she must be her daughter.

She wore long boots under her overalls and a pure white sleeveless top—the classic look of a farm girl.

She looked about high school age. Her semi-long hair was tied back in a ponytail, revealing her pale neck and shoulders.

Her face still held traces of youth, with its neat features and clear blue eyes. She seemed like a cute high school girl, but as Alicia’s daughter, her chest had developed quite maturely for her age.

“Hi, Carol. This is Daisuke.”

“Nice to meet you, Daisuke.”

The girl named Carol, still holding her bucket, rushed over and struck me as very friendly. She was a refreshing girl who had grown up in a vast land with a rich culture.

“N-nice to meet you, too.”

Despite being younger than me, I felt nervous as I shook the hand she offered.

In Japan, I never had a chance to shake hands with such a beautiful girl, and even when I talked to one, they always seemed cautious around me.

But the Carol before me didn’t seem the least bit cautious. Instead, she smiled at me like a sunflower.

“She’s Carol. My daughter.” 

Carol’s presence and the ring on Alicia’s left hand made it clear that she was married. Feeling a bit guilty for getting excited over another man’s wife, I tried to find the other person—the one who wasn’t there.

Carol’s father. In other words, Alicia’s husband.

“We’re all alone.”

Perhaps sensing my gesture, Alicia said this without sounding particularly lonely.

“Just the two of us…?”

From what I could tell, Stanley Farm had been passed down to Alicia’s husband, Edgar, by his father. But five years ago, Edgar—the main breadwinner—died of illness.

After her husband passed away, Alicia was left alone with her daughter Carol. At first, she considered closing down the farm. But knowing how much her late husband loved it and how much Carol cared for the horses and cows, she decided to keep the farm going on her own.

Recently, Carol has been helping out more, which has made things easier. Still, during busy times, they don’t have enough hands, so they hire short-term workers like me.

Alicia was on her way to Central to find more help when she spotted me, a penniless backpacker.

By the way, all this was explained to me in English. I filled in some gaps with my guesses, but I’m pretty sure I got the main points right.

Thanks in part to Alicia’s clear gestures, my English has improved since coming to America. Mostly in listening, though.

“But, huge farm.”

But from what I can see, it’s a pretty big farm. Judging by the size of the horse and cattle barns, there must be a lot of livestock. Trying to run this place with just two people seems reckless from the outside.

“Just as you said.”

As expected, the workload is heavy, and hired hands don’t tend to stick around long. If you love horses and cows, it might be different, but the early mornings and the smell of livestock keep most people away. I bet it’s the same in Japan, too.

“Please work here for ten days, Daisuke.”

Ten days, huh? Honestly, considering the rest of my summer vacation, staying in one place for that long would be tough. Of course, I can’t travel around the world without money, so I need to work somewhere. But since my original goal is to go around the world, it’s hard to change my schedule.

“Please Daisuke….”

Carol’s innocent eyes look at me. With two beauties pleading like this, is there any guy who wouldn’t be moved?

“Y-Yes. I’ll work.”

“Thank you very much!”

At that moment, both Carol and Ms. Alicia threw their arms around me. People here express their feelings strongly, but with their… assets pressed against me, I’m worried about keeping my sanity straight for ten whole days.