Sex is the Best Way to Learn About Other Cultures. - Chapter 1

“Who are you?”

 

Anyone would ask that if they found an unfamiliar man in their home after work. Especially if it wasn’t one of the majority white residents, but a young Asian man instead.

 

“Um, hello…?”

 

I greeted Mrs. Stacy, the homeowner who had just returned home, with an awkward salutation.

Mrs. Stacy was a stunning beauty, as if Silvia had grown up into an adult.

She had vibrant, semi-long blonde hair and clear eyes like aquamarine.

True to her flight attendant background, she carried herself with a cool demeanor, and her model-like height added to her striking presence.

Though hidden beneath her coat, even her chest area exuded that quintessential white woman vibe.

 

“He’s Daisuke. My boyfriend.”

 

“Boyfriend?”

 

At Silvia’s introduction, Mrs. Stacy’s face clearly showed she thought this had to be a joke.

I couldn’t tell Silvia’s exact age, but she was still in middle or high school. As for me, I was a college student over twenty. The age gap between us was simply too wide.

The very pairing of Silvia—indistinguishable from an angel—and myself—a plain-looking Asian man—was so jarring that it felt like we were violating some international treaty.

Naturally, Mrs. Stacy grew suspicious. Her daughter was already precious enough. To find out she was dating some guy whose origins were unknown, and from a different part of the world at that, would naturally make any parent’s guard go up to maximum alert.

 

“Where are you from? How old are you?”

 

“Uh, um…”

 

The questions came fast and furious. Being grilled by a tall white woman already put me on edge, but the fact that her ample chest was practically brushing against me made my nerves fray beyond those of any man simply greeting his girlfriend’s mother for the first time.

To begin with, Silvia and I aren’t actually dating.

 

“I’m from Japan. I’m twenty-one years old.”

 

I try to be as sincere as possible, careful not to upset Mrs. Stacy. Though given my catastrophic English pronunciation, that might be a lost cause from the start.

 

“Where did you meet him?”

 

Perhaps realizing I couldn’t provide a satisfactory answer, Mrs. Stacy turns her questioning gaze to Silvia.

Silvia, cool as ice, answers her mother’s demonic interrogation (though the woman’s still undeniably beautiful).

 

“Heathrow Airport.”

 

“When?!”

 

“Today.”

 

The mother-daughter pair continues their exchange in slightly accented English.

It’s the classic scenario of a mother confronting her daughter’s sleazy boyfriend. But since I can’t even decipher Silvia’s motives, I’m essentially a hostage in this situation.

Silvia’s goal is for me and Mrs. Stacy to have s3x.

While this seems highly unlikely given the circumstances, Silvia actually hopes we’ll get married, making me her father.

I can’t help but wonder why, but after thoroughly defiling Silvia and even climaxing inside her, I no longer have the option to refuse.

 

“I invited him to dinner.”

 

I invited him to dinner tonight.

Mrs. Stacy must be getting a headache listening to Silvia’s beaming explanation.

What could possibly be good about choosing this plain Asian man as her boyfriend?

The question must be consuming her thoughts.

Yet despite her extreme suspicion, Mrs. Stacy doesn’t interfere with her daughter’s decision.

I already knew beforehand that she’s a single mother.

I wasn’t a latchkey kid, and my mother was a full-time housewife, so I didn’t understand the loneliness of being alone at home.

But I think I understand why Silvia was at Heathrow Airport, her mother’s workplace.

Perhaps it’s precisely because she senses these feelings that Mrs. Stacy wouldn’t casually chase me away as a mother.

Though I do wonder if she’s genuinely okay with her daughter’s boy’s hobbies…

 

“Only dinner.”

 

After emphasizing that I’d leave after the meal, Mrs. Stacy reluctantly agreed to let me stay.

Overnight stays were absolutely out of the question.

Stacy reluctantly started preparing dinner, with the full force of her determination that she had not yet approved of my future relationship with Silvia.

 

“Silvia, is this really okay?”

 

Watching Mrs. Stacy’s disgruntled back as she cooked, I once again checked with Silvia..

I’m anxious that she might stab me if I let my guard down. She even sighs dramatically like in those over-the-top foreign dramas.

 

“You’re alright. You’re a wonderful daddy…”

 

“S-Silvia?”

 

Suddenly, as if struck by a new idea, Silvia. begins stroking my crotch again.

Her blue eyes meet mine directly, her expression bewitching.

Naturally, my member reacts to the pleasure brought by the girl’s smooth palm.

We’re seated side by side at the dining table, and the table’s shadow hides my crucial area from Mrs. Stacy’s view. But if she catches on, it’ll be the end of this story.

 

“Ah…”

 

Then, to my horror, Silvia. lowers my zipper and exposes my hardened c0ck through the social window.

Across the dining table, Mrs. Stacy was cooking in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, I found myself being hand-fucked by Silvia, who couldn’t even be considered a teenager yet.

Her hands moved with practiced speed, milking my c0ck like a dairy farmer extracting milk from a cow.

What the hell is going on here?

How did this happen?

Despite the absurdity of the situation, why does Silvia’s touch feel so good?

 

(Ah… I’m gonna cum…!)

 

The thrill of exhibitionism combined with the physical stimulation, and I came faster than I could have imagined.

White semen surged from my swollen testicles, racing through my urethra with violent pleasure before spilling into the world.

The sticky fluid clinging to the underside of the table couldn’t resist gravity, dripping steadily onto the floor.

Naturally, the scent of my spilled semen began to permeate the living space.

Mrs. Stacy sniffed the air and asked, “What’s that smell?” She turned to check if anything was wrong with us (though in truth, a disaster was unfolding beneath the table), then frowned slightly before returning to her cooking.

 

“Silvia.”

 

I pleaded with my eyes.

If we keep this up, we’ll get caught for sure. And if we get caught, I’ll be killed. Does this angel even understand that?

 

“Don’t worry.”

 

But Silvia’s mischievous smile remained unfazed. To make matters worse, she licked the semen from her finger with the same relish one might enjoy a chocolate truffle.

I don’t know if semen tastes that good. All the online forums say it’s bitter and fishy.

 

“Here you are.”

 

After a while, dinner was served on the Stanton household’s dining table with a very perfunctory “please.”

Even after the handjob earlier, Silvia guid my palm into her bra and kneading my n1pples through my clothes, but somehow we managed to reach dinner without Mrs. Stacy noticing.

 

“L-Looks delicious.”

 

It wasn’t flattery or anything like that; Mrs. Stacy’s dinner truly looked appetizing.

There were Scotch eggs, a dish famous enough to be known in Japan, and mashed potatoes. Then there was haggis—a meat and onion stuffing I’d only ever seen once on TV.

It wasn’t because her daughter’s boyfriend had come over. She hadn’t even known I was coming for dinner.

Despite this, the meal that appeared was quite lavish. It seemed to be a manifestation of Mrs. Stacy’s principle—no matter how busy she was, she would never compromise on her daughter’s meals.

Since leaving the US and entering Latin America, I hadn’t had a decent meal. Or rather, I hadn’t had decent experiences at all.

Having warm home-cooked food before me was a rare experience for me.

Involuntarily, I recalled Alicia and Carol. What came to mind wasn’t just American home cooking, but also the four swaying mounds of flesh.

 

“Enjoy the meal.”

 

Though not her creation, Silvia confidently presented the dishes.

Come to think of it, this wasn’t just about showcasing me to Mrs. Stacy—it was also about showcasing Mrs. Stacy to me.

My mom’s so beautiful and amazing at cooking, isn’t she? You must want to marry her, right?

Silvia’s inner voice seemed to echo directly in my ears.

 

“I-itadakimasu.”

 

Even while traveling in America, I still don’t know the English equivalent for “itadakimasu,” so I clapped my hands together in the Japanese manner.

Though we only had knives and forks instead of chopsticks, the sacred act of receiving life’s bounty remained unchanged.

 

“Very delicious.”

 

No exaggeration – Mrs. Stacy’s homemade meal was truly exquisite.

The lamb mince’s texture and seasoning were perfect, and even the simple mashed potatoes (just crushed potatoes) made every corner of my body bask in their flavor.

I wanted to punish every internet commentator who claims British cuisine is inferior.

 

“That’s good.”

 

That’s good, Mrs. Stacy said, relaxing her facial muscles slightly.

There’s probably no one who would feel bad about being complimented on their cooking, even if it’s half-hearted.

 

“Mom. Here you are.”

 

In a casual motion, Silvia poured tea for Mrs. Stacy. She must do this every day. Her movements were practiced.

But I saw it. Silvia secretly added something white to Mrs. Stacy’s cup.

 

“Thank you, Silvia.”

 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Mrs. Stacy took a sip.

Instantly, Mrs. Stacy frowned. “Hmm?” She dismissed the strange sensation as her imagination and drank half the cup.

The white substance Silvia had added to the cup.

It was undoubtedly the semen I had just ejaculated.

What was she thinking? Forcing her mother to drink my semen?

But Mrs. Stacy remained oblivious. As dinner progressed, she finished her teacup before anyone could react.

A fingerful of my semen.

And it ended up in Mrs. Stacy’s stomach.

Dinner ended without incident, and the gathering should have come to an end.

As promised, I would be kicked out of the Stanton house, and I was to look for a place to stay for the night. Or so I thought.

 

“Mom?”

 

Silvia approached Mrs. Stacy with concern.

The woman swayed unsteadily, as if feverish.

Her face flushed crimson, eyes slightly unfocused.

 

“I’m fine, Silvia. Really.”

 

Mrs. Stacy waved off Silvia’s attempts at care.

But this was not normal. I thought she might have a fever, but

 

“Are you alright, Mom?”

 

A faint smile played on Silvia’s lips.

She’d known this would happen all along.

Could it be that, in addition to semen, she’s carrying some other medication?

Mrs. Stacy, who was perfectly fine before dinner, couldn’t possibly be this ill.

 

“You’ll be okay. I’ll help you.”

 

While playing the role of a caring daughter, Silvia laid Mrs. Stacy on the sofa.

The way she covered her with a blanket and offered a cup of mineral water made her look like the epitome of a caring daughter. But I saw Silvia secretly mix my semen into that cup.

Could this really be because of my semen?

I know it’s not meant to be consumed, but I never imagined a single spoonful could reduce a woman to this state.

I suddenly wondered – were all those women who drank directly from my p3nis safe?

Mrs. Stacy lay slumped on the sofa, utterly spent. Though the unexpected turn of events had me on edge, Silvia’s next words left me utterly speechless.

 

“Please give your medicine to my mom.”

 

“S-Silvia?!”

 

For some reason, Silvia, ignoring her groggy mother, started to take off my pants again.

So boldly, in front of her mother.

This was beyond human behavior.

Fortunately, Mrs. Stacy’s eyes remained closed, though she wasn’t truly asleep—she might wake at any moment.

 

“Come on, Daddy.”

 

But Silvia started stroking my p3nis lovingly again.

This time she licked my shaft and glans, precisely triggering my erection.

 

“Great.”

 

I’m not sure if it’s great or not, but my manhood has stiffened again.

Naked from the waist down, my erect p3nis stands shamelessly between my legs.

I was resigned to the fact that I would be deported if someone saw me like this.

 

“Silvia?”

 

Mrs. Stacy, her eyes unfocused, was watching us from the sofa.

I thought it was over, but Mrs. Stacy remained unmoving. She must be feverish and not fully comprehending what we’re doing.

 

“Mom. It’s medicine.”

 

Without warning, Silvia dragged me—still naked from the waist down—to Mrs. Stacy’s side.

As if my p3nis were some miraculous cure, she guided Mrs. Stacy to take it in her mouth.

Mrs. Stacy sat up in a daze, her bleary eyes fixed intently on my erect member.

At that moment, it was clear she was in a coherent state of mind. As I worried whether we really shouldn’t take her to the hospital, Silvia uttered the unthinkable.

 

“This is Daisuke’s c0ck.”

 

In that instant, Mrs. Stacy let out a scream.

It was a scream like someone had woken from a nightmare. She stared at my crotch with eyes that saw a devil, then scrambled backward against the sofa’s backrest.

 

“Silvia. What are you doing?”

 

I could tell Mrs. Stacy had fully regained her senses, desperately trying to process the situation.

But what lay before her was the sight of an Asian man—her daughter’s boyfriend—with an erect p3nis, and her daughter showing no shame whatsoever.

Trying to understand the situation in mere seconds was utterly impossible.

 

“I have SEX with him.” 

 

“What?!”

 

In that instant, Mrs. Stacy let out a startled cry.

She glared at me and intimidated me, asking if I was serious.

 

“Do you even know how old Silvia is?”

 

Mrs. Stacy’s British-accented words came in a torrent of fury.

 

“It’s CRAZY.”

 

That was Mrs. Stacy’s verdict on our current situation.

Yes. Crazy.

For me. For Mrs. Stacy.

“Daisuke is the best daddy.”

 

“Silvia!!”

 

Now, in front of her mother, Silvia began stroking my erect c0ck.

Seeing me desperately trying to hold back, Silvia pulled up her hoodie again, exposing her br3asts, which may have been braless from the start.

The ideal big-breasted loli.

Even though they were just starting to swell, her n1pples and areolae were fully developed, and she was displaying the evidence of her growth in front of her mother and me.

 

“Come on, Daisuke. Another big cumshot.”

 

“Aahh!!”

 

Unable to withstand the exposed big-breasted loli and her relentless hand job, I came again.

This time aimed at Silvia. Her beautiful face and br3asts were covered in semen, and to top it off, I splashed my semen on the dining table, leaving the daughter covered in semen in front of her mother.

This was no longer forgivable.

I’m going to get stabbed, I thought.

 

“Get out.”

 

But my punishment was simply to leave the Stanton family home.

Though I hadn’t been stabbed and hadn’t even been turned over to the police as I’d feared, so I was honestly taken aback.

However,

 

“Go away, Silvia…please…” 

 

“Yes! Mom!”

 

Unexpectedly, it wasn’t me that Stacey had kicked out, but none other than her daughter, Silvia.

Could she have kicked Silvia out because she couldn’t kill me in front of her daughter?

That’s what I initially thought, but something seemed off.

Mrs. Stacy sank weakly to the floor, repeatedly glancing at my p3nis that just ejaculated, and then averting her eyes.

After a moment, she hesitated before meeting my gaze and saying:

 

“Please… let me suck your c0ck.”

 

This was undoubtedly her request for fellatio.

I had no idea what was happening.

In the mere minutes since we finished dinner, what could have possibly happened to Mrs. Stacy?

Just as I was about to pinch my cheek to see if I was dreaming,

 

“Ahhh…!” 

 

Embarrassed yet determined, Mrs. Stacy took my half-erect p3nis into her mouth.

The inside of Mrs. Stacy’s mouth was warm.

Though her tongue’s movements massaging my shaft weren’t practiced, they were effective enough.

 

“What is this?”

 

The illicit thrill of making a British single mother perform fellatio on me instantly hardened me.

Seeing my renewed erection, Mrs. Stacy’s eyes widened in surprise.

 

“Ah… Mrs. Stacy!”

 

Without hesitation, she began fervently licking my scrotum and the underside of my shaft.

True to her white adult woman’s boldness, she differed from Silvia’s more restrained approach.

 

“What are you…?”

 

As if suddenly remembering the act of s3x, Mrs. Stacy launched into a daring blowjob.

She drooled, making obscene noises, moving her face violently without hands, and took an Asian man’s p3nis into her mouth – a white woman indulging in filthy pleasure.

And then,

 

“Aahh!!!”

 

Unable to withstand the pleasure, I immediately came.

Into Mrs. Stacy’s mouth – a single mother’s mouth.

I sprayed my semen without restraint, making her drink most of it. Then, as an afterthought, I topped the last spurt on her perfectly straight nose bridge.

I think spilling semen on a white woman’s face is one of the most immoral acts in this world.

Because surely it is?

I, who wasn’t even looked at by girls in Japan, was splashing the juices from the tip of my p3nis on a white woman who was dozens of times more beautiful and hundreds of times better-looking than the girls who had rejected me.

And this liquid came from none other than my balls.

Normally, it would be such a grave sin that it would get me my p3nis cut off at the base.

 

“You are…special.”

 

“M-Mrs. Stacy?!”

 

I don’t know what she was thinking, but without even wiping the semen off her face, Mrs. Stacey started to take off her clothes.

She discarded a thin sweater, blue jeans, socks, camisole, and a pink bra (I couldn’t tell what cup size it was) in quick succession. Instantly, the large br3asts hidden beneath her clothing were revealed.

What perfectly shaped br3asts, I thought.

Her br3asts were firm and rosy, and it was hard to believe she was a woman who had given birth before.

The n1pples and areolas were a vivid pink, making me doubt these were br3asts that had ever nursed a child.

Japanese and Caucasian women differ in body structure and height. Even if a Japanese woman and a Caucasian woman share the same cup size, there’s a tremendous difference in the actual volume of their br3asts.

Mrs. Stacy, before me, was the perfect example. Her br3asts, the kind you’d see in a Western porn film, were shamelessly exposed in front of me.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

I was the one who wanted to say this. Eventually, Stacey stripped off even the last of her forbidden clothing, and without a word, thrust out her plump ass and exposed pvssy towards me.

It was a beautifully shaped pvssy, which was hard to believe came from a woman who had given birth before.

Even I could tell she was begging me to hold her.

But should I insert myself now? Should I wait for proper foreplay first? As I hesitated,

 

“No need to lick! Put your d1ck in me!”

 

Mrs. Stacy’s desperate cry made everything clear.

I don’t understand a single thing about this, but I know I have to fvck this person.

 

“AHHHHHH!!!”

 

Without any hesitation, I thrust my c0ck into Mrs. Stacy’s pvssy from behind.

True to her word that she didn’t need me to lick her, Mrs. Stacy’s was drenched. For some reason, her pvssy had been waiting eagerly for my c0ck.

And then,

 

“AHHHH!!! OH MY GOD!!!!”

 

As I started to thrust slowly, Mrs. Stacy began to moan in a girlish voice.

Her reactions were practically identical to Silvia’s. Though Mrs. Stacy had a bigger body and br3asts, their responses to s3x were mirror images.

 

“What are you?! What is your p3nis??!!”

 

While having s3x with me from behind, Mrs. Stacy was thoroughly disheveled.

There was no trace of the mother who had opposed her daughter’s relationship.

All that remained was a mature woman, fully immersed in the pleasure of s3x.

 

“Ah! Mrs. Stacy!”

 

With both hands firmly grasping her ample br3asts, I shook my hips with all my might.

Each collision of my pelvis against her massive buttocks produced lewd, flesh-on-flesh slapping sounds.

Just like with Alicia before, the pvssy of a seasoned woman enveloped my c0ck with tender yet lascivious warmth, using every fold and wall of her passage to coax me toward climax.

 

“AHH! What kind of d1ck is this?! I’ve never felt this before!”

 

It felt amazing.

What an incredible pvssy.

At this rate, I’d seriously consider marrying her.

If I could have s3x with such a wonderful woman every day, I’d never want to go back to Japan.

 

“Ahhhh! I’m cumming, Stacy! I’m gonna cum inside you!”

 

“AHHHH!! I’M CUMMING!!!”

 

I began my final thrusts with unprecedented speed, my hips moving faster than ever before.

I’m not boasting, but I think my leg and core muscles have improved dramatically since this trip.

 

“AHHHHHH!!!”

 

As Stacy’s near-scream echoed through the room, her vaginal muscles clenched down on my c0ck with intense pressure.

Squeezed by the force of her contractions, I released the biggest ejaculation of the day into the single mother’s womb.

The relentless torrent of semen, undiminished even after making my daughter climax, assaulted a uterus that had once nurtured a fertilized egg.

My overflowing seed filled her, as if determined to overwrite all traces of her previous pregnancy and childbirth.

 

“AH…Crazy cumshot…”

 

Stacy, her breaths shallow and ragged, collapsed deeper into me. Our bodies remained connected, but I could sense she’d reached climax.

Maybe I’m getting better at s3x?

 

“Hello, Mom.”

 

“Silvia?!”

 

The sudden appearance of Silvia from the shadows by the entrance startled even Stacy.

To be honest, I’d been watching Silvia – pretending to leave the entrance while hiding in the shadows – so I wasn’t surprised. But Stacy, who’d thought she’d cleared the house of witnesses, now looked utterly bewildered.

No matter what excuse we tried, we were still physically connected. And the thick white fluid leaking from our joined bodies made any explanation impossible.

I had s3x with Stacy.

It was an undeniable truth.

 

“He is my dad.”

 

Silvia said happily, watching the connected me and her mother.

Her goal had been achieved. Since Stacy and I had s3x, that was how it was.

 

“Silvia…”

 

Seeing her daughter’s face, Stacy seemed to sense something.

Did she want a father that badly?

Stacy’s inner thoughts seemed to transmit through our connected bodies.

 

“Come here, Silvia.”

 

Still connected to me from behind, Stacy rushed to hug Silvia.

For the mother and daughter, it might have been a moment of heart-to-heart connection. But as someone currently violating a woman’s body, I had no idea what the appropriate response should be.

The mother and daughter continued hugging like that for a while, but eventually Silvia, though embarrassed, turned to look at me and said:

 

“Daddy… I want to have s3x with you, too.”

 

“Huh?”

 

I want to have s3x with you, too.

Silvia said as she edged closer, her face truly that of a female.

The girl then stripped naked like her mother, pulled her p3nis out from the hole she was born from, and straddled me.

 

“No. He’s my husband.”

 

“Huh?”

 

But without hesitation, Stacy snatched my p3nis back from her daughter.

A daughter who had just learned about s3x, and a mother who had rediscovered it after a long time.

That night, I experienced something in the apartment that made even the best heaven seem like hell.

I’d broken my daily ejaculation record by a wide margin, but I didn’t bother mentioning it in my Japan-bound postcard.

In fact, I might not have had the energy or strength left to write it anyway