Let me start out tangentially by telling you a side story. I had a grandpa (not the farmer I’ve previously mentioned, the other one) who was very influential on me. He was bright because he was well read, he was articulate, he was kind. He was a tremendous individual, with one caveat. He was in the (greatest) generation that fought World War II. From that experience, as much as he revered FDR, he was prejudiced against the Japanese. He didn’t openly spout-off against this race, but it would come out in little ways, in small comments, etc.
So, though I loved visiting with him when I was growing up, I felt guilty. Not only was I concealing fantasies about being bi-sexual, being attracted to other women as I went through puberty, many of these fantasies centered around Japanese women.
I’ve ALWAYS been super attracted to the beauty of Japanese women, with their straight dark hair, flashy brown eyes, petite trim figures.
Having just written about my fascination with the geisha culture, you can see how the one fed the other. I became practically obsessed with Japanese women.
What is more, the Japanese race seem collectively driven to achieve and succeed (which I could relate to) in school and in life.
This school girl, and the one pictured above, seem to know just the exact right way to succeed with me!
This young lady is being driven from school (where, I’m sure, she applied herself fully to her studies). She’s already learned how to sit in my presence, that the derriere has much better uses than to merely sit upon.
This brings up something that needs addressing. In order to please men, some Japanese women have started getting breast implants. I’ve known LOTS of model/friends who have done so, and I’m not a fan. (They feel totally foreign, they can mask the ability to detect breast cancer, they look ridiculous when the owner lays down, but her breasts remain standing straight up!)
But Japanese women are similarly slim-hipped, and everyone knows that I like a bigger, rounder bottom.
One last thing. I read where, when our cultures first made contact, the Japanese felt that Westerners smelled because they ate red meat, as opposed to their fish-based diet. Just by choice, I’m not a big meat-eater. I hope that, if I ever get the opportunity to get to know a Japanese woman intimately, this won’t be an issue. This still photo of a lovely lady fresh out of her bath practically awakens my olfactory sense. I imagine that I can smell her perfumed skin…
My Grandpa is gone now. I’m left with memories of how even a great human can have flaws. And I’m left with a strong affection for a race of women that I find particularly appealing. And I don’t feel guilty in the least anymore.