Sex is the Best Way to Learn About Other Cultures. - Chapter 3

“Do you know where you are?”

 

As usual, I was standing there with the placard hanging from my neck when a white woman called out to me in a rather angry voice.

She looked to be in her mid-thirties, the typical blonde-haired Caucasian. Naturally beautiful, with ample br3asts and a provocative waist and hips.

While most Americans tend to be assertive, this woman’s forceful tone made it clear she was the type to speak her mind bluntly.

Her features were strikingly defined, yet she lacked the overly exaggerated “buttery” charm that Japanese people often associate with Western women. The term “mature beauty” suited her perfectly.

You could tell she was older, not because she looked old, but because her clothes, gestures, and tone of voice all exuded the aura of a married woman and mother. Her medium-long, unadorned blonde hair seemed to be the result of prioritizing simplicity and ease of movement when raising a child.

She might have a faint resemblance to Alicia from Stanley Farm.

With her large br3asts, composed beauty, and demeanor far more mature than a student’s, she exudes a sensuality that far surpasses girls in their early twenties, despite her modest attire.

While it’s easy to label her as a MILF, she possesses a charm and vivacity that transcends such stereotypes. This voluptuous married woman was now interrogating me with a tone bordering on reprimand.

The question “Do you know where you are?” naturally leads to the blunt command “Don’t do such things in this kind of place.”

So, where exactly is “here”? It’s South Carolina, north of Georgia, and more specifically, Florence, a city within South Carolina.

After disembarking from Amtrak’s Florence station, I hailed a taxi and gave the vague instruction to take me to “the busiest place around here.”

To carry out this project, it is essential that as many people as possible see the message on the placard. Both Eva from Florida and Ashley from Georgia were able to get laid by using this kind of strategy of trying many things and seeing what happens, so it was only natural that this time, too, would be seen by a lot of people.

However, once I hung up the placard, I realized something I’d been vaguely aware of all along:

This place was Magnolia Mall, a fairly large shopping mall.

A shopping mall meant naturally high foot traffic. High foot traffic meant a significant number of my target demographic—white women of a certain age—would be present.

That much was good.

From a probability standpoint, this was the most compelling reason for me to stand at the entrance of this shopping mall.

The problem was that compared to the streets of Miami or Savannah, where I’d been “standing around” before, this place clearly had far more families and children.

At first, everyone stared curiously at the Japanese man with the peculiar placard hanging around his neck.

Most people would look astonished after reading its contents, but the children, unable to comprehend it, would inevitably ask their parents, “What’s that, Mom?”

Continuing to “stand around” in such a place, it was only natural that I’d receive complaints from mothers like her.

 

“Mom, what are you talking about with that Japanese person?”

 

“Mike, stay away from him. I’m warning this bad-mannered Asian person.”

 

Behind her stood two strikingly handsome blonde brothers, probably eight and five years old.

Her voice brimmed with maternal anger. The use of the impersonal term “Asian” revealed unconscious racism. Well, if I couldn’t overlook this level of rudeness, traveling through Europe and America would be impossible. The real problem was that she held all the moral high ground in this situation.

 

“What were you thinking, standing there in front of the children? Get out of this shopping mall—no, this entire state of South Carolina—immediately!”

 

Her fury was justified.

In a crowded shopping mall filled with children, an Asian man is standing there with a message clearly suggesting s3x.

In this country—and probably even in Japan—he’d be treated not just as suspicious, but as a criminal.

Until now, I had pretended not to see it for the sake of the project, but objectively speaking, this project was a “dangerous project.”

Understanding that, all I could do was apologize profusely,  “Sorry. Sorry.” and make my escape.

 

“Man, I really messed up…”

 

I hastily retreated from the shopping mall and fled to the vast parking lot. I could have waited until a later time to return, but I could see that I would be scolded by a strict mom like her again, so I couldn’t go back that easily.

However, I’d already paid a substantial taxi fare to get here. It’s a guy thing, or maybe just human nature – even if it’s a long shot, I want to leave some kind of mark on this place.

 

“Should I put the placard down and talk to girls…?”

 

I imagine myself in a strange country, playing the role of a pick-up artist. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be successful. I’ve been able to endure the embarrassment because it was a “YouTuber project”, but there’s no way I, who is shy even in Japan, could play the role of a pick-up artist.

 

“I’m hungry…”

 

Come to think of it, I haven’t eaten since parting with Ashley yesterday. Since I’m already at the shopping mall, why not forget about the project for a moment and enjoy some American food? It’s just a temporary escape from reality, but people need nourishment for their minds and hearts at any time.

 

“Please don’t let me meet that family again.”

 

Praying to avoid an embarrassing reunion, I walk into the food court area of the shopping mall. After eating a classic American burger set, I find myself at a loss about what to do next.

 

“Thief! Help me!”

 

A shrill woman’s voice echoes through the shopping mall. People turn toward the source of the cry, but when they see her pointing in a certain direction, all eyes snap in that direction.

In that direction, a burly man was running, cutting through the wind. The man is wearing a hat pulled down over his eyes, a suspicious black mask, and a bag that is clearly a woman’s, and he is running at full speed under his arm.

No matter how you looked at it, it was a mugging.

However, even in America, where there are many brave people, if the culprit has the build and speed of an American football player, it’s not easy to stop him. If you stand in front of the man in a clumsy attempt to stop him, even a fairly large man would be injured.

As expected, perhaps because the passersby are stunned, they just watch the thief run away.

In the direction the man was running, you could see the exit of the shopping mall. And near the exit, there was another man sitting on a motorcycle.

The man on the bike was the culprit’s accomplice.

That’s what most people would think.

The thief attempts to flee on his accomplice’s motorcycle. There are surveillance cameras, but with his face hidden, there’s no guarantee he’ll be caught. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ve heard that in America, where violent crimes are rampant, police don’t take petty theft seriously. If we let this guy get away, the bag will probably never return.

 

“Move!” 

 

The thief shouts.

The reason is that, before I even knew it, I had jumped out in front of the thief.

Why?

I don’t know either.

I’m currently traveling while struggling with money problems.

That woman might also face financial hardship if her bag is stolen. When I think about that, I can’t just stand there anymore.

The male culprit charged forward without hesitation. No matter how big my body was, I could see the future where I’d be easily shoved aside by this American-sized hulk.

While I stood frozen, the man closed the distance to within a few meters. Maybe I’ll die. The moment I instinctively closed my eyes, but the shock and intense pain I had anticipated did not come.

 

“Wow!”

 

The man’s voice was nearly a scream.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the culprit sprawled on the ground in a starfish position. Clearly, someone had “thrown” him there.

Did I do it unconsciously?

I had that fleeting illusion, but it couldn’t be true. Someone else must have done it.

It was a no-brainer. It was the man dressed in black, hired by Sarah.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I-I’m fine…”

 

The man in black, who’d dispatched the culprit as easily as knocking over a child, checked that I was okay and walked away without saying anything.

Upon closer inspection, I realized the bike man from the entrance had been replaced by another black-clad figure. The mugging incident had been resolved in the blink of an eye.

These men Sarah had hired were supposed to be covert camera operators for the project, doubling as bodyguards in case of emergencies.

I knew that much, but I never imagined they’d be this professional. Maybe they were even capable of protecting the president.

Their salaries must be astronomical, I thought.

Before I could dwell on it, the men vanished again into the crowd.

The bystanders stood frozen in awe at the lightning-fast resolution. A moment later, the victim of the mugging came running from the opposite direction. As expected, it was a woman—a blonde in her mid-thirties with semi-long hair…

 

「”Huh?”」

 

The moment our eyes met, we both reacted the same way.

The victim of this theft incident…

It was the same overbearing mother who’d scolded me at the shopping mall entrance.

 

☆　★　☆　★　☆

 

“I can’t believe… I’d be saved from a crisis by someone like you.”

 

Emma Simpson, the blonde mother, sighed in disbelief as she drove her well-used station wagon.

In the second row sat Mike and James, eight and five years old, respectively. From the third row at the back, I gazed out at the vast, quintessentially American landscape.

That incident at the shopping mall. For some reason, I’d ended up being the one to capture the two burly men who’d committed the theft.

Despite the bold daylight scene of black-clad figures knocking out the thieves, their professional departure must have been too flawless. Or perhaps in America, where muggings are as common as daily meals, passersby simply don’t care about such trivial details. By the time the police arrived, it had been determined that I had “knocked down” the two large men.

Emma, ​​who arrived late, didn’t see the men in all black. I was standing right next to the culprits as they lay sprawled out, so the usual “Could it have been you guys who did it?” scenario unfolded.

The two responding officers kept eyeing me suspiciously, repeatedly asking, “Are you sure you did it?” Strangely, the shopping mall’s security cameras were reported to be malfunctioning for reasons unknown. No evidence surfaced to suggest anyone else had knocked out the men.

In the end, it was decided that I had defeated the muggers. I tried to deny it repeatedly, but I couldn’t keep up with the police officers’ fluent English. Moreover, the two children’s sparkling eyes as they asked, “Did you really beat the bad guys, big brother?” overwhelmed me. Without resolving the matter, I ended up being credited as the one who arrested the criminals.

Even though I was considered her benefactor, Mrs. Simpson still saw me as a suspicious YouTuber. She tried to leave the scene with a dry “Thank you,” but…

 

“We should at least thank him for saving us!”

 

“Mom, you always tell us to properly thank people who help us.”

 

Her usual fervent parenting backfired, creating an atmosphere where I needed to be thanked somehow.

The look on Emma’s face at that moment, saying “What the heck?”, was memorable. It wasn’t discrimination, but I could see through her feelings of wondering why she should give charity to a stranger, an Asian.

If I were in Emma’s shoes, I’d feel the same way.

From a parent’s perspective, inviting a man of a different race and language into your home would be something you’d want to avoid.

Moreover, this man had openly declared that he made a living through s3x. She must have wanted to find some excuse to drop me off at the nearest station.

 

“There’s an Amtrak station nearby—”

 

“Big brother Daisuke has nowhere to stay!” 

 

“Let’s put him up at our place!”

 

Thanks to the brothers’ insistence and brilliant teamwork, Emma had lost many opportunities to drop me off.

In the end, I ended up being invited to the Simpson family home, which was less than a 20-minute drive from the shopping mall.

The Simpson family home was a luxurious mansion that, while common in America, would easily be worth over a billion yen in Japan. It was two stories tall, had a garage and ample parking space, and might even have a pool at the back.

Since all the surrounding houses were similarly opulent, property prices in the area must be exorbitant. Still, it seemed impossible for anyone but the wealthy to afford such a mansion—clearly, the Simpsons belonged to at least the upper-middle class.

 

“Okay? Big Brother Daisuke can’t come inside our Christian home for religious reasons. So we’ll let him sleep in the car tonight. You must promise not to tell Daddy about this.”

 

Thinking I couldn’t understand English, Mrs. Simpson told an outrageous lie to prevent me from entering her home. While the blatant falsehood might seem inappropriate, from a security standpoint, it’s too risky to let an Asian man she doesn’t know into her house, especially when her husband likely hasn’t returned yet. As a mother, it’s a wise decision.

 

“If you have nowhere to stay, I’ll let you sleep in the car tonight. But you must promise not to let my husband find out.”

 

This was the condition Mrs. Simpson, who didn’t want me in her house, reluctantly presented to me.

First and foremost, I wasn’t allowed to step out of the car at all.

She was also concerned about neighborhood gossip, so I had to strictly follow the rule of staying motionless under the blanket in the trunk until sunset, especially until her husband returned home at 8 PM.

I use the park’s restroom, about a mile away. If the timing works out, Emma will bring me dinner at midnight. I have to be out of the car by 7 AM when her husband goes to work, never to approach the Simpson residence again. It feels like I’m being treated more like a burden than a benefactor, though I suppose I have no right to complain since I’m not doing anyone any favors.

The real problem lies with my own “rules.”

Despite the whole mugging incident, I’m essentially receiving nothing more than a night’s lodging and a meal.

However, in this project, I was not allowed to accept any kind of charity, including hitchhiking, other than s3x. In other words, the deal was made the moment I got into Emma’s car.

In short, I had to have s3x with Ms. Simpson, no matter what.

Otherwise, I’d be breaching the contract. The theory that it can’t be helped because it’s unavoidable doesn’t work with Sarah. The reason Sarah doesn’t move at this point of the hitchhiking “advance” is no doubt because she thinks she can get some interesting footage. But if I can’t get any interesting footage, I don’t know what kind of treatment I’ll receive. To protect myself, I have to have s3x with Emma no matter what.

 

(What should I do…?)

 

However, looking at Emma’s attitude, I don’t think she’ll let me have s3x with her. In the first place, my first impression of her was the worst. She probably feels nothing but disgust for me.

My only chance would be when she comes to deliver dinner.

But even that isn’t guaranteed. With the way she looks, there are plenty of chances that she’ll break her promise. When you think about it, going outside after sunset and being with a man other than her husband, even for a few seconds, doesn’t seem like the kind of thing a sensible adult woman would do.

 

(This might not work…)

 

Trembling from the memory of Sarah’s brutal treatment, I wrapped myself in a blanket from the luggage compartment. The fear of not knowing when her husband might return left my body rigid. If he found me here, completely unaware of the situation, it was entirely possible he’d shoot me on the spot. This was just the kind of country where that could happen.

 

“Emma, Mike, James, I’m home!”

 

After a while, I heard a man’s voice from the entrance that I didn’t recognize. Fortunately, the husband didn’t notice the suspicious person in the luggage compartment and went straight into his house, where his family was waiting.

It was silent for a while.

From inside the house, the sound of laughter echoed, and the delicious aroma of dinner tickled my nostrils.

 

“I want to go back to Japan too…”

 

Suddenly, I felt homesick here. I have lovers and children left behind in Japan, too. It wasn’t a family built on morality, but they’re still my beloved family.

Although it was a polygamous white harem that somehow came about, that house has become a wonderful place of family reunion for me.

Spending time alone abroad like this makes me feel lonely. If at least Eva or Ashley were by my side, I would feel less lonely, but they are not in my arms right now.

 

“I’m hungry…”

 

It’s already 2 AM.

At this rate, Miss Emma probably won’t bring dinner at all. I’ll fail to follow the travel rules and receive a severe punishment from Sarah. Like being canned for three years, forced to have s3x with all the white women she brings, one after another. That kind of thing.

 

“If I’d known this would happen, I should’ve just rushed to the finish line…”

 

I could have chosen to skip eating and drinking altogether, focusing solely on reaching Maine. If I’d invested all the money from Eva and Ashley in transportation, I could have made it quite far north.

Even though it was a bit forced, I felt the need to boost the project a little, but that was my downfall. If I had done that, I might have been able to make arrangements to return to Japan by now…

 

“Goodnight, Ena, Liz.”

 

Muttering the names of the first two women who came to mind, I drifted off to sleep in the cramped van. Food meant nothing anymore. All I wanted was to return to my beloved woman as soon as possible.

With that fervent wish, I gazed up at South Carolina’s night sky through the car window before falling into a deep sleep.

How much time had passed, I wondered.

Without warning, I found myself awake.

I was in a cramped wagon. My body was twisted into an awkward position, and I immediately realized this. Outside the window, it was still pitch dark, clearly indicating that night had not yet ended.

The problem was the warm, squirming sensation wrapped around my lower abdomen, like some living creature.

(Eh…?)

As my consciousness became clearer, I became aware of a tingling sensation spreading through my lower body. Right now, I’m in someone else’s car, with the lower half of my body completely exposed.

But that’s not enough, my crotch feels rock hard. It’s not enough for me to have simply taken off my trousers and underwear in a sleepy state, I’ve been having naughty dreams that have made my c0ck rock hard.

I need to wake up and put this away before it’s too late.

Though I felt anxious, the sensation of something stimulating my p3nis hindered my awakening. From the tip to about two-thirds of the shaft, something warm and moist was covering me. This warm thing occasionally slithered like a snake along the underside and glans, making deliberate movements as if trying to make me cum. Not only that, but someone’s hands were wrapped around the base and my balls, kneading them. Overwhelmed by the overwhelming pleasure enveloping my lower body, I slowly opened my eyes.

Under the moonlight, vibrant blonde hair swayed slowly up and down. The one taking my c0ck into her mouth was none other than Mrs. Emma, the strict teacher. An accident? A mistake? No, this was clearly oral play. Mrs. Emma was unmistakably giving me a blowjob.

A dream?

That was the first thought that came to mind.

I fell asleep with the strong desire that I had to have s3x with Mrs. Emma, so perhaps this is why I’m experiencing such vivid, realistic dreams.

 

“I’m sorry…”

 

Mrs. Emma, having noticed my awakening, apologized with her eyes downcast. Yet there was no sign of stopping her hand job or fellatio; if anything, her movements grew more unhesitant.

 

“How does this compare to your husband?”

 

“Don’t make me compare. We’re different races, so it’s natural your penises would be different too.”

 

Emma’s face was bright red, but she still didn’t stop the handjob and blowjob. I was strongly considering the possibility that this was a dream, so I took an arrogant attitude. I considered the possibility that she would get angry, but Emma had forgotten about her motherly dignity and was devoting herself wholeheartedly to sucking my p3nis.

Why on earth would Mrs. Emma be doing this?

Before these doubts could take hold, I became aware of a burning desire to conquer this woman. I grasped her silky blonde hair, guiding her mouth deeper to the root, while reaching through her bra to pinch the n1pples of br3asts that had likely nursed two children.

 

“Your touch… you’re so used to it. How can you tell my erogenous zones just by this…?”

 

Mrs. Emma entrusted her br3asts to my fingers as she continued blowjob me. Her voluptuous elasticity, which I didn’t expect from a married woman, pushed back against my palm, and I realized that I was now rubbing the br3asts of a white woman.

 

“May I see your br3asts, Mrs. Emma?”

 

“…Just call me Emma. Tonight, you can call me Emma.”

 

The mother of two refused the formal address, stripping off her shirt and bra herself.

Her exposed br3asts were magnificently large, with beautiful pink n1pples and perfectly maintained shape that showed no signs of sagging.

 

“You can… do whatever you like with these too.”

 

Without hesitation, she stripped off her pants and panties, exposing her remarkably beautiful pvssy. The pink hue of her pvssy defied her status as a mother. Following her invitation, I was invited to lie on my back on the seat, and Emma placed her private parts on my face.

 

“Ah…!”

 

Face sitting and cunnilingus started suddenly.

I licked Emma’s entrance and cl!toris without hesitation, and plunged my tongue deeper and deeper.

 

“Ah! Ah!”

 

The love juices of the beautiful white woman overflowed. Without even trying to hide her sweet voice, Emma surrendered her whole body to my cunnilingus.

 

“Can you push your c0ck into my back…?”

 

Emma begged me to insert it while wriggling her slender waist lasciviously. At that point, I had decided that this was probably just a dream. So even though I was with a married woman and without a condom. I pushed my shaft against her entrance and, following her wish, sank my longer-than-average c0ck into her depths.

 

“Ah!”

 

Her pale back arched in a bow. The vaginal walls, which couldn’t possibly belong to a married woman, clenched around my erect c0ck. Her thoroughly lubricated white pvssy engulfed my shaft with the most wicked sensation in the world.

 

“What kind of d1ck is this? It’s completely different from my husband’s!”

 

“Emma, does it feel good?”

 

“Of course! This is the best d1ck I’ve ever had in my life!” 

 

Taking advantage of the fact that it was a dream, I ruthlessly ravished Mrs. Emma. Unfazed by the car’s vibrations echoing outside, I mercilessly thrust upward into the beautiful mother of two.

 

“Ah! This is incredible!”

 

True to her white wife status, her br3asts bounced wildly with each upward thrust. Her soft, ample buttocks gave me the unmistakable feeling of making love to a mature, voluptuous woman.

 

“What do you think of my c0ck, Emma?”

 

“Ah! It’s so amazing I can’t understand! Why is it so amazing even though you’re Japanese?”

 

I mercilessly spanked her from below while savoring the mature woman’s pvssy. Though I was astonished by how perfectly this dream suited me, I’d never experienced such realistic carnal sensations in a wet dream before. I decided to enjoy this fleeting fantasy while it lasted.

 

“Ah! It’s too deep!”

 

“Does this feel good here?”

 

“Ah! That’s good! This is the first time I’ve had such great s3x!”

 

The dry sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes through the car. The dreamlike s3x makes me want to release my semen.

 

“Ah! I’m cumming! I’m cumming by the c0ck of a man who’s not my husband!”

 

“I’m gonna cum too! I’m gonna cum inside you like this!”

 

“Ah! No! It’s not! Please forgive me for the creampie!”

 

“Ahh!”

 

Ignoring her perfunctory pleas, I emptied my seed into the married woman’s womb. Mrs. Emma’s pvssy clamped down with perfect timing, milking every last drop from my balls like a skilled dairy farmer.

 

“I’ve never climaxed like this before…”

 

Emma looked up at the ceiling, gasping for breath, her lower body twitching. I was losing consciousness from sleepiness, but in that dream, I let my instincts take over and ejaculated into Emma eight times.

When I realized it, it was morning.

I had fallen asleep, breaking my promise to leave the car by seven in the morning.

 

“Wake up. My husband has gone to work, and the boys have gone to school.”

 

Still half-asleep, I hear the back door open. It’s Mrs. Emma. I thought she was annoyed that I had fallen asleep, but instead, she made an unexpected proposal.

 

“Breakfast is ready. My husband won’t be back until tonight, and the kids won’t be back until the evening, so you can rest inside the house.”

 

“Huh?”

 

I don’t know what changed her mind, but Emma, ​​who was so wary of me, invited me into her house. I don’t think she would gain anything from doing something like that, but

 

“You were incredible last night… If possible, I’d like to do it in bed today. What are your plans? Of course, I’ll give you proper compensation. I’m not sure if I can prepare something worthy of your… You know.”

 

She suggested shyly, and I was still confused. Perhaps she felt that I didn’t understand her English, because this time she looked me straight in the eye and said in clearer English,

 

“I want to have s3x with you in the house until the children come home. At night, we’ll do it in the car, and the next day, back in the house. A contract to keep having s3x with me until your… until my instincts are satisfied. Can’t you sign it?”

 

I thought it must be some kind of joke.

Or perhaps an extension of my dream.

 

“Ah! You’re truly amazing♡”

 

But the truth is, I ended up having s3x with Mrs. Simpson for three consecutive days from that point on. That alone proved beyond doubt that this wasn’t a joke or a dream.

I don’t know how it all ended up like this, but having s3x with a beautiful white married woman was so good that I didn’t care about anything else.

s3x is like a drug.

When you have s3x with a beautiful white woman without a condom, sadly, a man is made to swing his hips endlessly.

 

☆　★　☆　★　☆

 

“Ahh!! OH MY GOD!! DAISUKE!!” 

 

That day, I was having s3x with Emma in the Simpson family living room as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Emma had both hands on the living room table and, of course, was completely naked as she accepted my p3nis.

It was standing doggy style, at a time when it would normally be a family get-together.

And even though it was clearly cheating s3x with a Japanese stranger, Emma Simpson moaned and screamed without hesitation, her ample br3asts and soft buttocks shaking slightly.

I gripped the slender waist of this tall white woman, thrusting at a higher angle than I ever did with Japanese women.

But the sensation of her white pvssy clenching around me was too good. I ignored everything else, thrusting wildly back and forth.

Usually, she had the air of a demure, nurturing mother, but during s3x, Emma showed her obvious feminine side, the image of a woman immersed in pleasure.

Even though she’s a mother of two, she gives it her all when it comes to s3x.

As expected from America, the country of free s3x, I was impressed that she didn’t run out of energy after three days of s3x in the daytime and at night. Of course, the same could be said for me, but as I feel the white woman’s buttocks violently shake with each thrust, and my hands struggle to contain her big b00bs, I can’t help but feel compelled to keep going without rest.

 

“Ah! OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD, JAPANESE!”

 

I know I should probably get back to the project soon, but when a married woman takes the initiative like this, my lower body just keeps tingling. It’s the same with Alicia from Stanley Farm and Stacy from London – it seems women really do become more sexual as they age.

 

“Ah!! CUMING! I’M CUMING, JAP!!”

 

The usual derogatory term “JAP” is merely a tool to heighten each other’s sexual desires.

I’m fucking a white married woman as a Jap.

Emma, a white woman, is being fucked by a Japanese man and reaching climax.

This reality seems to push our sexual pleasure to its absolute limit.

 

“Oh! I’m gonna cum, Emma!!”

 

“AHH!!”

 

I dump my semen into Emma’s womb as naturally as breathing. I’m really worried that she might get pregnant from doing this, but the truth is that this creampie feels so good that neither Emma nor I can control ourselves.

Really, cumming inside a white woman is more pleasurable than anything else in the world.

 

“Emma, ​​I’m almost there…”

 

In my poor English, I tell her that I’m ready to go. But Emma, ​​still connected to me in the doggy style position, doesn’t let go of my d1ck.

 

“No, not yet. You’ll have to cum inside me twenty more times.”

 

But every time, Emma would refuse me like this. I’d heard rumors about her being sexually frustrated with her husband, but this seemed like an extreme case of obsession.

 

“You have to take responsibility for putting a mother of two in this state. You’re going to upload the footage anyway, aren’t you? If you’re going to upload my indecent appearance to the whole world, I need enough pleasure to drive me insane to make it worthwhile.”

 

True to her desire to go crazy, Emma relentlessly pursued the pinnacle of sexual ecstasy. I matched her fervor, thrusting wildly, but each movement revealed her motherly persona crumbling, leaving me genuinely worried whether Sarah would stream these depraved scenes.

But Sarah would do it.

Moreover, for some reason, Emma herself was enthusiastic about streaming s3x videos. I thought she’d be destroyed if her husband found out, but she begged through the camera, wanting more streams.

Is American women’s passion for s3x this intense? The cultural differences between Japan and here make my head spin, but this is ultimately about personal freedom and cultural expression. I have no right to object.

 

“Ah! I’m coming again!”

 

After that, we had s3x countless times in the house, and with breaks in between, I enjoyed the act of ejaculating inside her more than twenty times, probably close to thirty times.

 

“I still want to do it with you, but if we do this much, it will affect my life.”

 

We were completely exhausted and had been enjoying three days of s3x, even making full use of energy drinks, but I had my own plans and Emma had her own motherly duties, so we decided to end this s3x-only feast on the day before the family’s day off on Saturday.

 

“Promise you’ll come back to me,” 

 

After our last s3x, Emma kissed my d1ck countless times. Her appearance was far removed from the schoolteacher vibe I had when I first saw her, and it made me realize once again that women are women, no matter how much time passes. At least I’d compensated for years of lost pleasure with my p3nis. With such a voluptuous woman, I could’ve made love to her daily.

 

“Sorry, but my husband controls all the household finances, so I can’t give you any money.”

 

Emma dropped me off in a town called Fair Bluff, just across the state line in North Carolina.

In this project, I was only to be paid for s3x.

The compensation didn’t have to be monetary, and Emma paid me through three days and three nights of lodging, meals, and transportation to North Carolina.

That was more than enough for me (and the s3x with Emma was actually really good), but she seemed unsatisfied with just that. She kept trying to figure out how to support my journey to Maine.

No, this is more than enough.

While I was pondering how to express that in English, Emma apparently found some kind of “solution.”

 

“I’ll give you this. I was originally planning to replace it with a new car and give it to my sister, but it’s going to break down soon anyway, so when your trip is over, sell it and turn it into scrap metal.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Unable to comprehend the situation at all, I froze on the spot. I desperately denied in my head that I must have misheard, but Emma calmly handed me the keys to the station wagon she had just gotten in, so I realized that I hadn’t misheard or anything.

Emma was actually offering me a car as payment for s3x.

 

“N-no way can I accept this! It’s too expensive, and I don’t even have a driver’s license!”

 

“Oh? No license? I know someone at the driving school here. I’ll get you signed up.”

 

Before I knew it, Emma had already made a call. She handed me a notecard with an address and phone number. She was completely serious about giving me the car.

 

“But… but how will you get home, Emma? It’s quite a distance from here to Florence.”

 

“I have a sister living nearby. I’ll have her drive me. I need to tell her the car I planned to give you is no longer available.”

 

“Huh, you’re too quick on your feet…”

 

Ignoring my shock, Emma got in the car; her sister (who was also very beautiful) had come in and returned to South Carolina, where her family was waiting for her.

As she left, these were the words she left with me.

 

“I really want to go on your journey, but I love my children too. So I believe we’ll meet again somewhere.”

 

With an atmosphere half like a strict mother and half like a woman, Emma wrapped her arm around my neck. When I rudely asked, “Don’t you love your husband anymore?” she laughed in exasperation.

 

“After all that incredible s3x, but you didn’t steal a woman’s heart? I don’t think I’ll have s3x with my husband again, but if I do, I’ll definitely remember how amazing you were and feel unsatisfied.” 

 

Emma, displaying the composure of a mature woman, tactfully avoids commenting on her feelings toward her husband or me. Truth be told, I desperately wanted to continue our intimacy, but we were parked by a road with moderate traffic and foot traffic. I restrained myself.

No, that’s a lie.

In reality, we had s3x three times in a nearby public toilet, and even got her sister involved when she arrived, and we ended up having a threesome.

Sarah later scolded me for having s3x with her sister, saying that it was a North Carolina charge, but she somehow let me off the hook on the condition that she confiscate all my money.

Because the compensation I received from the next sexual encounter was an absolute necessity for this journey—

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

South Carolina, Florence

s3x Partner: Emma Simpson (34)

Compensation:

Three days’ food and lodging, transportation from Magnolia Mall to Simpson residence, transportation from Simpson residence to North Carolina’s Fair Bluff, and an old station wagon.

Profit and Loss:

Day 7

Amtrak (Silver Service) Savannah-Florence standard fare – $89

Taxi fare from Florence station to Magnolia Mall – $32

Hamburger meal at shopping mall – $8.59

Free overnight stay in Simpson residence

s3x with Emma

Day 8

Free breakfast provided by Emma

s3x with Emma

Free lunch provided by Emma

s3x with Emma

Free overnight stay in Simpson residence

Day 9: Having s3x with Emma

Breakfast: Skipped

Day 9: Having Intense s3x with Emma

Lunch: Skipped

Free Transportation to Fair Bluff

Free Use of a Worn-out Station Wagon

Day 9: Having s3x with Emma and Her Sister

Fine for Violating Rules: -$845.01

Remaining Balance: $0

Route: Savannah → Florence → Fair Bluff

Video Views (South Carolina)

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