Sex is the Best Way to Learn About Other Cultures. - Chapter 2.5 Interlude 3

When morning finally arrived after a night of passion with Emily, when morning came, we finally got to see each other’s bodies in the sunlight that filtered in from somewhere, and we looked away from each other in embarrassment.

Emily’s body was undeniably beautiful, with unexpectedly plump br3asts that featured a stunningly lovely pale pink n1pple and areola at their center.

The pink lines on her lower abdomen, her soft-looking buttocks – everything was covered in sweat, and more than that, she was coated in my semen.

Yet Emily showed no disgust at the sight of it. In fact, she eventually picked up some of the fluid with her finger and licked it clean.

The act of swallowing a man’s semen is inherently vulgar, but Emily’s subsequent smile was so angelic that I became convinced she was truly God’s messenger.

“This… my contact information in Japan.”

“Merci.” (Thank you)

After washing our bodies together under the shower pipe, I handed her a note scribbled on a torn passport page in the blinding morning light.

The memo contained my Japanese address and phone number. Emily accepted it with a smile. Unlike my clumsy “Mercy,” her pronunciation leaned more toward “Meh-see,” which now made sense of her puzzled expression last night. We’d both thought we knew each other’s languages, but neither of us truly did. Yet somehow, despite this linguistic barrier, we became friends through s3x.

Incidentally, almost every girl I’ve slept with while traveling asks for my contact information. What’s the point of that? Are they all starved for pen pals?

“A bientôt.” (See you soon.)

We parted in the square after a brief kiss. Normally, this would be a lifetime farewell, but her parting words were surprisingly casual, as if we might meet again in a month or so.

“…Now then.”

Though exhausted from a night of s3x, I still had a journey ahead. I could already tell that hotels would turn me away if I tried checking in today, so it made more sense to hurry on to my next destination.

From France, the next countries reachable by rail were Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and Monaco.

There were certain places I desperately wanted to visit, but frankly, my route from here was undecided. Between losses in the United States and my unexpected Central and South American detour, I had less than a month of summer vacation remaining. With the reverse route through Spain and Portugal already ruled out, there was something I needed to do before deciding where to go.

“I haven’t contacted them at all since then.”

After sending a photo postcard from Colombia, I completely lost touch with my family and Takuma. To begin with, I’d only given them a vague itinerary—crossing the United States to reach Britain, then returning to Japan overland. Now I’d suddenly sent a postcard from Colombia, practically begging them to worry about me.

“Should I at least call them—?”

I found an international public phone at the station and dialed home. Unfortunately, it went straight to voicemail. After leaving my current location and upcoming plans, I called another number. This time,

“Hey, is that you, Daisuke?!”

“Ah, Takuma? It’s been a while.”

My friend’s voice brought a smile to my face, but he sounded strangely flustered. I panicked, wondering if I’d called at some inopportune moment, but then—

“What are you saying?! It’s all your fault!”

Takuma’s apartment should have been quiet since he lived alone, but his room sounded unusually noisy. Upon closer listening, it seemed to be multiple women’s voices. Moreover, the language they spoke wasn’t clearly Japanese.

“Daisuke!! I miss you so much!!”

“That voice… Liz?!”

The woman’s voice heard over the phone belonged to Elizabeth, the waitress I had met in Los Angeles. Why was Liz in Japan?

“Daisuke. Come back soon.”

“Amanda?!”

That mature, alluring voice could only belong to Amanda, the truck driver. Why were Liz and Amanda at Takuma’s apartment?

“What’s going on, Daisuke?! Even Katherine McBride, a Hollywood actress, came to visit you!”

“Katherine McBride?”

I’m not particularly well-versed in Hollywood movies, so the name didn’t ring any bells.

“Hello, boy.”

“Huh?!”

The moment I heard the voice, I instantly recognized who it was. The blonde prostitute who took my virginity in Los Angeles.

I had no idea why she’d become a Hollywood actress, but I did understand why all the women I’d slept with in America were now gathered at Takuma’s house.

That wasn’t all.

“Hola! Japonés.” (Hello! Japanese.)

“Ms. Diana?!”

The moment I heard the Spanish, I knew who she was. It was Ms. Diana, the woman who’d pointed a shotgun at me in Costa Rica.

I couldn’t make sense of any of this.

Nearly half of the women I’d slept with during my travels had gathered at Takuma’s house. What’s more, since I’d recently slept with someone else, there was even a chance their numbers would grow.

“Why…?”

It suddenly dawned on me—I might have impregnated all of them.

They’d come to Japan to make me take responsibility, to claim compensation and child support. Did they specifically ask for my address so they could later demand damages?!

“Stop fooling around on your trip and get back here now! The apartment’s already overrun with women!”

Takuma’s shout carried genuine urgency. He sounded barely awake. Perhaps he’d been losing sleep every night, constantly on edge about being wrongfully accused of paying compensation in my stead.

“I-I get it! I’ll get back as soon as I can!!”

“Wait! I love you, Daisuke!”

Terrified, I hastily hung up the international call. I thought I heard Liz’s voice at the end, but did that girl get pregnant too?

“Maybe not using a condom was a bad idea…”

Overwhelmed by the thrill of losing my virginity, I’d been having unprotected s3x left and right without thinking. I never thought that my best friend Takuma would have to pay the price

Emily, whom I parted ways with this morning, might transform her angelic smile into a devil’s grin and demand pregnancy compensation. It’s a sobering thought, but I brought this upon myself. As a man, I have to take responsibility.

“How am I supposed to take responsibility for this…?”

Just hearing it over the phone, four women.

How was I supposed to support four women and four children as a college student?

“Even if I think about it, there’s nothing I can do…”

With unsteady footsteps, I set off toward my next destination: Paris’s international airport. In this situation, there’s no such thing as a heartbreak trip.

But—

“There’s still something left to do…”

The reason I came on this round-the-world trip wasn’t just to heal my broken heart after being rejected by a hundred Japanese women. There were two other purposes.

“At least two more countries…”

In a hazy state of mind, I book my next flight ticket.

The destination isn’t Japan—