Sex is the Best Way to Learn About Other Cultures. - Chapter 5.5 Female Perspective

Once a year, I travel on the Siberian Railway with my father.

At first, it was a two-day trip between Vladivostok and Habarovsk. The Ocean train running this route had first-class compartments—no dividers between cars, unlike the cramped third-class cars where passengers slept packed together. It felt like heaven compared to those.

But each year, the duration of our train trips grew longer.

Eventually, we covered the monstrous distance between Moscow and Vladivostok. By then, I’d grown thoroughly sick of these journeys with my father.

My father traveled the Siberian Railway because it held memories of his mother.

He and my mother had met during a train journey on the Siberian Railway when they were young, and their relationship blossomed from that meeting.

The Siberian Railway has never struck me as particularly romantic, either now or in the past. But since it held special meaning for them, I never voiced my complaints.

However, five years ago, my mother stopped participating in this journey.

She wasn’t dead. She’d been taken by a young Chinese businessman.

Since then, my father has developed an intense dislike for Asians.

No, to be fair, he’d always been critical of nouveau riche Chinese anyway. As someone raised in an aristocratic family, he probably never warmed up to these upstart wealthy Chinese.

But the truth is, my mother was taken from us.

A young man with power and money stole her away.

Think about it logically. Even for an old noble family like ours – though only moderately distinguished – our wealth paled in comparison to a new-world tycoon raking in hundreds of millions daily.

Right?

True millionaires don’t ride the Siberian Railway. They might feel superior sitting in first-class compartments, but even those aren’t expensive enough. Real moneyed elites take the Orient Express.

The financial situation alone made it clear they were different.

Besides, the man who took my mother was in his early thirties—a crude fellow, but in terms of nighttime activities, he was on a completely different level compared to my father, who was over fifty.

Was this just my wild imagination?

No, it was reality.

I saw it with my own eyes. My mother is having s3x with him.

“Ahnnn! ♡♡ This is incredible! ♡♡”

I knew a Chinese man was visiting frequently while my father was away.

As a woman myself, I had a vague idea of what that meant, but witnessing the act firsthand overwhelmed me.

“I’m coming again—what a monstrous p3nis! ♡”

A muscular Asian man was thrusting violently into my mother, pinning her down.

The p3nis entering her was impossibly thick and long, nothing like the one I remembered from my father.

“Ohh, this is amazing! I can’t live without you now! ♡”

In the end, the rich are just pretenders.

My mother was drawn to that man’s s3x, to that man’s p3nis.

So she left, abandoning both me and my father.

By now, she might be on a luxury train reserved for true tycoons, having s3x with that man to her heart’s content.

But well, that’s all in the past for me.

My mother’s departure was a shock, but she’d always been more woman than mother anyway. So when she fell for some young, wealthy Asian man with a big d1ck, I could understand it to some extent.

But it really hit my father hard.

He’d always felt threatened by Asians but pretended to look down on them. Now his beloved companion had been stolen away by one.

“I saw an Asian man near the second-class car earlier. Emilia, you absolutely mustn’t go near him.”

“…Understood.”

Since then, my father’s hostility toward Asians has grown even stronger.

I mean, if I were to marry, I’d prefer a white man too, but I don’t have such blatant discriminatory feelings.

Still, before my father, I avoided getting involved with Asian people.

In Russia, there are many Central Asian Russians, but I keep as much distance from them as possible.

To be honest, I feel sorry for my father.

No matter how rich or young he is, abandoning the one he swore eternal love to before God like a piece of property isn’t something a lady should do.

My mother doesn’t have my father’s bl00d, but I do – noble bl00d flows through my veins. So, I want to walk a life path with at least some nobility.

I don’t want to cater to my father’s nobility ideals, but at least until I find a marriage partner and leave home, I want to support him by my side.

Somehow, I don’t hate this Siberian Railway journey either. I don’t particularly like it, but I can’t settle down until it ends – it’s become like summer vacation homework.

“I’m going to take a shower. Make sure you lock the door until I knock.”

“Okay!”

I gave a half-hearted response as my father left the second-class compartment. There was no need to lock the door—no one would come in anyway. No one cares about us old nobility.

If this room were occupied by a wealthy Chinese businessman, there might be thieves sneaking in for valuables. But for ordinary people like us who can only use the Siberian Railway, who would possibly be interested?

“Seriously… this is so boring.”

The worst part of traveling on the Siberian Railway is the utter lack of things to do.

I’ve already read all the books I brought, and even the act of reading itself has grown tedious.

The only real pleasure is getting off at the brief stops, but the next station won’t arrive for over an hour.

“I wish I could go on a luxurious trip with some rich Chinese person,”

I muttered, voicing thoughts I’d never dare express to my father. If I had the chance, I’d love to splash around in rubles like water during a fancy vacation.

Even if I had a Chinese boyfriend with me, we wouldn’t be having s3x anyway, but just being able to say I traveled with a cute white girl would probably give me some satisfaction.

“Well, that day will never come, will it?”

Until I get married and leave home, I’m just a caged bird to my dad.

The Siberian Railway is like the cage that imprisons me, luring me into 9,000 kilometers of tedious travel in exchange for the occasional pit stop to breathe.

I’ve grown completely accustomed to this absurd behavior of taking eight days to reach Vladivostok only to fly back the same day.

“Father?”

Suddenly, I hear the door knob being fiddled with. At first, I thought Father had come back for something he’d forgotten, but when the person enters the room, I’m utterly stunned.

The man who enters our room is wearing a black blindfold.

With his short black hair and yellow skin, his Asian heritage is immediately apparent.

He was a burly man, somewhat diverging from my preconceived Asian image of being short-statured.

Rather than appearing smart, his robust build, paired with his ragged jeans and worn-out shirt, made “wild” the perfect descriptor.

“Who are you?”

I asked his name the moment he removed the blindfold. Before even considering whether he could understand our language, shouting might have been the logical choice, yet for some inexplicable reason, I didn’t raise my voice.

A blindfolded Asian man in grubby clothes.

When he silently entered my room, it should have been an emergency for me, but for some reason I had an unfounded conviction in my chest that this person would not harm me.

“E, a…”

As expected, he couldn’t comprehend my words.

Despite his massive frame, he trembled like a small animal, darting his gaze around the room with nervous intensity.

Upon closer inspection, the eyes beneath the blindfold were round and so charming they could almost be considered cute.

Despite his wild appearance and stubble, those jet-black eyes held an undeniable allure.

Thus, I chose to continue observing him.

This journey was bound to be tedious anyway. If I couldn’t maintain composure even when encountering an Asian man who’d entered the wrong room, how could I call myself refined?

Though descended from fallen nobility, my lineage still traced back to the upper classes.

(Honestly, he’s such a restless soul…)

The intruder remained flustered, unable to speak as his gaze darted around the room.

Eventually, I noticed his eyes had locked onto a single point.

Without a doubt, it was my chest.

Standard for a Russian woman, I suppose. Though perhaps larger than average for an eighteen-year-old. While few men have touched me before, those who have always praised my br3asts as “cute” and “alluring.”

And now, this Asian intruder was staring at them with unabashed intensity.

As a young woman and a lady, this might be considered a shameful situation, but at this point, I don’t care if he’s looking at my chest through my clothes.

I’m not telling my dad, but I’m not a virgin anyway. Since I’m also staring at him, it wouldn’t be fair to refuse him.

So, even though I don’t particularly want to, I decide to return the favor by staring at his most important part.

I’ve never seen an Asian “thing” before, but I’ve heard they’re supposed to be small. At least I should have the right to laugh at this pathetic little bulge.

But…

“Um, isn’t it hard?”

The unexpected size leaves me speechless.

It’s clearly erect. Hard.

Did he get excited from looking at my chest?

Even though I haven’t taken off my bra or any of my clothes?

As these questions swirl through my mind, the tent in his pants grows more imposing.

His denim jeans strain as whatever’s in his crotch swells to monstrous proportions.

(No, this was definitely a massive p3nis…)

Who said Asian men have inferior penises?

It was clearly bigger than any of the men I’d had s3x with before. No, it wasn’t just big. It was clearly enlarged to a whole other level. Just how much stuff is in his jeans and pants?

“Zippers… I’m going to lower them, okay?”

Seeing how uncomfortable he looked down there, I cautiously unzipped his pants.

In hindsight, it was an absurd action, but at the time, it felt completely natural.

A volunteer spirit to relieve a man in pain.

Well, perhaps my curiosity about what lay inside was stronger.

The Asian p3nis my dad absolutely forbade me from approaching—I could only investigate by peering at my mother’s s3x life from a distance.

“No way… right?”

The p3nis that literally sprang out from his jeans window was nothing like the ones I’d ever seen before.

At its worst, it might have been longer than my face, with a massive, curved shaft. But it wasn’t just long and thin—it was thick enough to rival a tree trunk, with exposed ridges that made the veins on my fingers seem like child’s play.

This was a completely different beast from the Russian version.

For the first time in my life, I found a man’s reproductive organ beautiful.

Masculine, robust.

I was utterly captivated by this p3nis that seemed to embody every possible compliment.

Did the man my mother chose also have such an impressive member?

If that’s the case, it’s only natural for her to be taken. If all Asian men are this incredible, it’s no wonder all white women get stolen by Asians.

Just because we’re different races, is it really this different?

Standing before his erect member, I feel like I’ve encountered a god.

(This… won’t calm down unless I make him cum, will it?)

I ask myself something that’s utterly obvious to men.

Since my body brought him to this point, making him ejaculate is my duty.

(But how?)

I’ve never seen a p3nis this big before.

With smaller ones, I could just jerk them off or squeeze randomly, and they’d come, but will this guy work the same way?

A flood of questions races through my mind.

I’ve never hired a s3x tutor, and I don’t know what kind of s3x girls my age are having.

But at least one thing was clear: continuing as before would be futile.

When facing an opponent clearly superior in matters of s3x, the only way for the weaker party to prevail is through a full-hearted, all-in commitment.

“I’ll… take it in my mouth.”

The choice I made was to take his sturdy p3nis into my mouth.

To “take in my mouth” means precisely that – to contain it within my lips.

For the first time in my life, I used a part of my body that had only ever been used for eating to take in such obscene reproductive organs.

It wasn’t as if there was no resistance.

But I remembered. My mother had done the same thing with her Chinese boyfriend.

I remembered how she had looked utterly blissful while taking his sturdy p3nis into her mouth.

So I took the long, massive p3nis before me…

(It’s so big…)

Prepared for the possibility of being overwhelmed, I took it as far back as I could manage.

I opened my jaw as wide as possible, yet even then the thickness was painfully difficult to accommodate.

The bold, masculine scent that suddenly fills my mouth leaves me dazed, my mind drifting into a fog.

My tongue ran over his underside, which was so hard it felt like marble.

(Is this really a p3nis?)

As I move my head back and forth to accommodate his length, I couldn’t help but have this thought.

All the penises I’ve seen before were barely mediocre.

But his was so sturdy I felt bad holding it in my mouth.

Am I doing enough for this p3nis? Can I offer it what it deserves?

Perhaps my lack of confidence shows in my oral service, because he start muttering something in a foreign language.

OPPAI

I don’t know what that means.

But since he keeps staring so intently at my chest from above…

“Should I… squeeze it…?”

I understand instinctively, and without hesitation, I discard my dress and bra before him.

“Don’t expose your skin indiscriminately in front of men.”

It’s a phrase my dad has been repeating to me since childhood, his voice growing hoarse with repetition.

Yet here I am, exposing my br3asts – a br3ast I consider well-shaped – before him. Before an Asian man whose name and country of origin I don’t even know.

My pale pink n1pples and areolas are completely exposed, and instead of shame, I feel exhilaration.

It wasn’t that I was being looked at, but that he was looking at me.

My pride and joy, my br3ast, offered to the sturdy Asian man before me.

(Hot…)

Mimicking what I’ve seen others do, I use my br3asts to envelop his p3nis. The moment our skin meets, searing heat floods through the valley between my br3asts.

His burning hot p3nis seemed to be proof that he was excited by my br3asts, and I suddenly felt proud of my body.

I want to become a woman worthy of his formidable c0ck.

For that, I’d do anything.

This desire consumes me, from my mind to the tips of my fingers and toes.

Men love being squeezed between br3asts.

My friend had mentioned something similar before, and at the time I thought it was silly. But if it would make him happy, I’d be willing to do anything.

Watching his sturdy tip slide in and out between my br3asts, I felt utterly blessed.

“Ah…”

As I served him with my chest, he pinched my n1pple. In that moment, I felt truly grateful to have been born.

What an honor to have such a strong man touch my n1pple!

(Nngh… Ahh—)

His c0ck might be impressive, but the way he handled my n1pple was perfect.

He massaged around my br3asts, occasionally remembering to flick my n1pple, driving my arousal to new heights.

“Ahh!”

Finally, he made me climax with his fingers alone.

Before this, there were times during s3x when I couldn’t even reach orgasm. But this man could effortlessly lift me to the pinnacle of feminine ecstasy.

There was no choice but to accept.

I was born to welcome this man’s p3nis and his seed into my womb.

“Will you… have s3x with me?”

Before him, I shamelessly spread my legs, offering my drenched v4g1na.

Though the bed on the Russian train’s first-class carriage wasn’t large, it was just the right size for us to be pressed together.

The Asian man hesitated before directing his sturdy p3nis toward me.

Ah, what a magnificent p3nis.

The fear of what might happen if such a formidable thing entered me outweighed my curiosity.

But then—

“Naaaahh!!”

The moment his lengthy p3nis pierced my depths, all fear vanished in an instant.

His overbearing, raw c0ck filled me completely, stretching my insides.

He reached a place my previous lovers could never attain with ease, repeatedly kissing me with his p3nis.

“Nnghh! Ahh!”

The pleasure of being thrust into it was unbelievable, but the withdrawal was on another level entirely.

His raw, exposed shaft scraped against my folds, tearing at my innermost flesh with each pullout.

Every single withdrawal felt like it could make me faint, and after just two or three strokes, I was certain I’d lose consciousness.

“Ahh! This is incredible!”

In all my previous sexual encounters with men, I’d never screamed “incredible” once.

But with him, the words spilled out naturally.

With each primal thrust of his hips, I entered supreme moments of ecstasy, experiencing the pinnacle of pleasure.

No matter how obscenely my br3asts shook, or how much saliva ran down my cheek, I can no longer choose to resist this man.

I wanted him to cum inside me.

That’s the only thought left in me.

“Ahh, I’m cumming! I’m cumming from an Asian c0ck!”

Words like “cum” and “c0ck” – vulgar terms I’ve never uttered before.

But in the face of his s3x, all notions of propriety vanish. When this sturdy c0ck thrusts into me, my noble status becomes utterly meaningless.

Those who fvck, and those who are fucked.

In this world, there are only two positions.

“Ahhn♡♡♡”

Without a shred of resistance, I let him fill me.

Even knowing this act could lead to pregnancy, I can’t stop myself.

I was so desperately anticipating the sensation of his semen pounding against my womb that I realized my uterus had descended down.

“Ah♡♡ Ah♡♡”

With each release, he drove bullet-like spurts of semen into my womb again and again.

Each time, I arched my neck to its limit, climaxing as I screamed adult female moans loud enough to echo through the train cars.

His p3nis pulsed inside me, throbbing with life.

Did my v4g1na manage to satisfy him properly?

Could I have given him the kind of s3x that matched his formidable member?

“Ahh—”

When his long, drawn-out release finally ended, he withdrew his p3nis. Even then, the hard ridge of his shaft scraped against my sensitive spot, sending me into another mini-orgasm.

With a delayed rhythm, thick strands of his semen began leaking from my v4g1na.

I thought it was a waste, but his s3x was so intense, and the pleasure it brought me was so great, that I couldn’t even get up for a while.

But then…

“From behind too… you’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

I got up on my limbs like a newborn fawn, and thrust my v4g1na out to him, asking for doggy style s3x. There wasn’t much time until daddy returned. If I didn’t make the most of this moment to savor his p3nis, I’d suffer an irreplaceable loss in life.

Despite having already ejaculated so profusely, his c0ck showed no sign of weakening.

That meant more orgasms were still possible. My Asian lover responded to this expectation with effortless ease.

“Ahh, it’s coming again—♡”

This time, I was facing away from him, his p3nis invaded me anew. With the angle reversed, the friction now concentrated on the back wall of my v4g1na, his tip rubbing against sensitive flesh.

In an instant, a violent surge of pleasure coursed through my brain, taking complete control of my mind.

At that moment, I resolved to make this man fvck me tonight, no matter what.

I would pry his room number out of him, and even if it was a third-class carriage without partitions, I wouldn’t care. I’d strip naked and let him pound me raw.

“Ahhh!! Even from behind is amazing!!”

I’d always resisted doggy style before, my pride getting in the way.

I mean, letting a guy see not just my v4g1na but my ass too? How could anyone endure that humiliation?

“Ahh! Being fucked by an Asian in this animalistic position feels so good! ♡♡”

But I was completely wrong.

True s3x requires surrendering everything to a man.

What good are shame or pride? Deep down, I craved submission to his powerful c0ck. Letting petty pride and racial prejudices rob me of this moment would be the ultimate missed opportunity.

Asian s3x is incredible.

Asian cocks are unbelievably good.

Now I understand why Mom got taken from him.

Any woman would follow a man with such a magnificent p3nis.

Money doesn’t matter. Dad criticizes Mom for being swayed by Chinese wealth, but she simply surrendered to an Asian man’s powerful c0ck.

Once you’ve been fucked by them, you realize how stupid racism is.

If all Asians have these amazing penises, whites should be the ones getting discriminated against. The ones with inferior equipment are the ones who should be looked down upon.

Maybe that’s why Dad fears Asians.

Don’t you agree?

Even now, your daughter is enslaved by an Asian c0ck.

If my dad remarries someone, and he meets an Asian person, they’ll steal her away just like they did to my mom.

“Ahhn! Your p3nis is truly amazing! ♡♡”

That night, as planned, he held me in his arms. In his unexpectedly first-class compartment, I spent the entire night being relentlessly ravaged by his excessively sturdy p3nis without restraint.

The next morning, when I asked the conductor, I learned that he had won that room from a Russian woman during s3x.

Originally, she was supposed to go to Vladivostok, but his s3x was so intense that she ended up giving away her ticket too.

Now I understand how she felt.

I was in the same desperate position, trying to get his contact information through a language barrier. If she did the same thing, it’s not surprising at all.

To reach him—Daisuke—she must have gotten off the train once.

To settle all her debts from life.

To escape all my worries, I’m moving to Japan—the country where he lives.

“What should I tell Dad?”

In truth, I’ve already booked a flight to Japan departing tomorrow.

Because I’ve fallen in love.

I doubt he’ll forgive me even if I explain, so my departure will be like a runaway.

But at least I’m not being taken away by someone else’s lover like Mom was.

I’m simply marrying a Japanese man.

I hope someday we’ll reconcile, and he’ll see his black-haired granddaughter.

Better yet, maybe Dad could remarry a Japanese woman.

That would surely erase his pointless prejudice against Asians.

Just like how my heart is now so clear and bright.

I sincerely wish for Dad’s heart to clear too, for him to find happiness.

After all, we’re family.