Japanese Tatami Mattress Novels & Stories

When she was done drinking it, he bid her good night. In the next day, Jai managed to wake up without someone waking him. Except for the little fur ball sleeping with him of course. But his sleep was quite enjoyable despite the soreness in his muscles. It seemed that when he was gone, Barun asked someone to ‘install’ a bed. “This reminds me of the traditional Japanese style bed on the floor. What was it called? A baton? No, that’s not right. Futon! Yeah, a futon!” Jai mumbled to himself as he made the futon and rolled it to the side of his room.

Forcing a stiff smile, I replied, "Actually, I think they're all fine. It depends on what you like." "As a designer, Ms. Walsh, could you recommend one for me?" Her gaze was scrutinous, like she was sizing up prey. I randomly pointed to the nearest mattress. The next second, the air around us froze. Marcus's pine scent turned icy, and the shop assistants' expressions grew awkward. Looking down, I saw the mattress tag. "Extra-large latex water bed – perfect for enhancing intimacy." My wolf let out an embarrassed whine in my head. Heat rose in my throat, and I instinctively clenched the hem of my clothes, my fingers turning white from the grip.

She first treated us with the teishoku breakfast she prepared for us. After we had our breakfast, Kobayashi-onesan let the staff take care of our luggages, and then she brought us around and introduced the ryokan to us. The guest rooms are all tatami-matted, and most excitingly, there are significant traditional onsen baths in the ryokan! However, no matter how happy I am to know that, if Jamie is planning to take a bath too, I won’t be allowed to do it at the same time, because he can’t see my real man's body.

The walls were adorned with handcrafted tapestries depicting scenes from the island's folklore, and a large window overlooked a breathtaking view of the crystal-clear ocean waters. The centerpiece of the room was a lavish canopy bed, draped in rich silks and soft linens. The mattress seemed to invite him to sink into its plush embrace, offering comfort and respite. The scent of jasmine and sandalwood filled the air, courtesy of the fragrant incense burning in the corner.

Third POV The private room at Nobu Downtown was tucked behind a sliding shoji screen that muffled the low hum of the main dining area. Tatami mats covered the floor, and a low lacquered table sat in the center, surrounded by thick zabuton cushions in deep indigo. Overhead, soft paper lanterns cast warm pools of light that danced across the walls like quiet flames. The air smelled of fresh wasabi, yuzu, and the faint salt of the sea.

He went to his couch and Theia followed, leaving me alone to face Mei Raito without any ready pitch or presentation. I stepped out. Their butler led me the way and said Mrs. Raito was waiting. As the double door opened, I took off my heels and stepped inside. The receiving room could fit two rooms combined. The interior was traditionally decorated as a Japanese home with a Tamami mat floor, Chabudai, and Zaisu. “Oba Mei.” I bowed my head. “Come in, my dear.” She gestured for me to join her at the table.

He walked to the driver's side and drove us away. Katana combined modern Japanese cuisine with a more traditional dining experience. Instead of tables and chairs, the dining space was divided into several washitsu with sliding doors, low square tables, and zabuton intended for use on tatami mats. I had always wanted to try the place since it opened. Reservations were tough to get and he had one for lunch. Regardless of whatever it was he was grateful to get a chance to try the top-notch cuisine foodies had been raving about.

There's a car waiting for him, we ride the car and went to their house. Not like the Costas Mansion, their house look a lot like a Traditional Japanese house. What do you call that? Tatami or something like that. They even have a pond full of coy fish and a big garden with different types of plants. I'm here just to see Lami, nothing more. "Okaeri, waka." I was surprised by their servants who spoke Japanese just now. "Are you perhaps, a Japanese?" I asked as we enter their home. Another servant came and took our bags. This is making me feel awkward.

I smile when I remember that Harper rode me like an A****n. I try to stand up, it's always a little hard for me. My bed is Japanese style. I put my feet on the gray Ikea rug on which my bed is arranged, and push myself to get up. I scan my room again, looking for signs of Harper. It is a large place, about 70 square meters. It is arranged in two rooms, divided by the table where the television rests. On one side is my resting place, and on the other, a set of white furniture, where I usually receive my special guests or take a nap from time to time. Two large panoramic windows on the wall to my left provide natural light. In the background, a huge beige wall divides my bathroom. The floor is

Siena understood it well, though she hadn’t used her mother tongue for years. “Yamada San, your guests have arrived,” was what the girl said. The door slid open. A man around his fifties appeared from behind the door. “Ah, welcome…. Please come in,” he greeted. “I’m Akira Yamada, the manager of this hotel.” They each sat on tatami, a Japanese traditional mat. There was no chair, only a low table in the middle of the room. Akira sat opposite of Siena and Alfonso.