Japanese Short Stories Novels & Stories

A feeling of being welcomed. “Sakura-chan,” Yuriko said, her voice warm, gentle. She began telling her side of the story. Of how years ago, she and her husband signed up for a local Meguro ward program called Meet Japanese Family—an initiative to host international students. Many came and went. Some stayed a meal or two, then disappeared. Then came Heri. A young exchange student who could barely speak Japanese. But he tried. With dictionaries and apps, he made conversation, although struggling. He stayed. He listened. He laughed.

"There are a dozen reporters after your story." He set the glass down and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. His eyes darkened, something predatory flashing in them. "Because you're different. Persistent. Beautiful. I watched you for weeks, Lena. The way you move, the fire in your eyes when you chase a lead. You intrigue me. And in my world, intrigue has consequences."

WARNING‼️ THIS STORY IS A PARANORMAL STORY 🔞 Chapter 1 My skin felt sticky from sweat as I peeled off my damp shirt and stepped closer to the tall antique mirror I had dragged out of the closet earlier. I wiped sweat from my neck and stared at my reflection, for a second everything matched. Then my reflection smiled a heartbeat after I did. My pulse jumped. I blinked hard and shook my head I was just tired that was all. I turned away to grab a towel but something made me glance back. My reflection stared at me, eyes darker, lips parted.

**** Lila had always been… elsewhere. Ever since her best friend gifted her the thick, veined, 9-inch vibrating dildo for her 18th birthday two months ago, her brain had basically short-circuited. Lectures? Notes? Future career? None of it mattered. All she thought about was the relentless buzz between her thighs, the way it stretched her tight little pussy until she saw stars, and how she could edge herself for hours in the bathroom stalls between classes.

He came to find her at nine. She was on the window seat with one of the brown-paper books, the Japanese short stories, reading the third one which was about a man who collected other people's lost umbrellas and kept them in a room he never entered. The rain had come back properly, the committed kind, hitting the windows in gusts that made the apartment feel more enclosed than usual, more like a place you were in by choice rather than circumstance.

She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and reading some of them softly under her breath. “Hmmm, look at this one,” I said. “This person seems to have described our date last week in perfect detail.” It was a story about a woman who liked to be spanked and punished. “I like this one,” Carrie said, pointing to another. “I really think we should try and work this one into our next date.” The story was about a couple who arranged to act like strangers and meet up at a trashy bar and pick each other up. There were long descriptions about them fucking in the back of the bar as the guys playing pool watched and stroked their cues.

Once when I dabbled in the escort service business, a Japanese businessman offered me a lot of money to be his personal breast whore. He wanted to do all sorts of nasty things to my tits. It was fun at first, but I bore easily and his cock wasn’t big enough to hold my interest, not even for the amount of money he was offering. Plus, I didn’t fancy the idea of moving to Japan either. “So, maybe if you were down, we could play sometime?” “I’d love to play,” I said, adding just enough suggestion to my voice to make him wonder. “I’m down for all sorts of things…”

Well, I can't fuck myself, someone has to do the fucking" I replied. He chuckled. I returned to his cock, sucking like a slut in heat. I made sexual sounds to excite him; years of watching p**n and reading erotic stories had taught me that men love hearing erotic moans from women, even if they are just for effect, not because my pussy is actually getting stimulated. The New York best selling romantic novels were my best companions during my college days.

"You know you've got to set boundaries. Reply during business hours." "Easy for you," she teases. "You're the king of boundaries." I watch him as he eats, methodical cuts, savoring each bite. His knife moves with confidence, like everything he does. During a lull, I catch his eye. "So, Jane mentioned you went to Tokyo. What was that like?" I ask him. "Business mostly.” He sets down his fork. “Meetings, negotiations. The city's vibrant, though." "Vibrant sounds fun," I say, my voice a touch breathier. "Bet you had some adventures."

I tried to beg, the quivering of my legs getting harder, as did my attempts to close them. “Be a good doll and come for me again,” he commanded, and my body had no other choice but to obey his command.I came, and the sensation rocked my world.I couldn’t anymore. And when I thought that, I felt a finger pushing inside me, and starting to move.“P-p-pleas-s-s-” I tried saying, but my mouth was too busy taking in air to let me speak.My whole body shook as I felt another finger slide inside.“Oh, puppy, the fun is just starting.” He curled his fingers inside of me, and all that was left of me were pieces. I was flying in the air, among the stars, and having an extraterrestrial experience.Weird sou