Yesterday, the torrential rain from a linear rainband in Nagoya brought nearly all public transportation to a standstill. One of my monthly-arrangement girls has strict parents—not just a curfew, but rules against going out at night altogether—so we’d only ever been able to go on daytime dates. Since she couldn’t get home, I let her stay at my apartment.
She was originally registered as a Type B, but was actually a hidden Type A and a virgin. I still remember how striking she looked when she showed up to our first meeting in perfect Lolita fashion. Since she seemed to have no intention of pursuing an adult relationship (intimate), we parted ways. But about two years later, she messaged me: “I’m still a virgin. Is that okay?” I asked, “Who is this?” and she replied, “The girl who came to our first meeting in Lolita clothes.” She had made such an impression that I remembered her immediately.
I became her first, and we started seeing each other. Her mother was extremely strict, so nighttime dates were out of the question and we mostly met during the day. About two years must have passed. She turned 25, but still had neither a boyfriend nor another papa (a male supporter), and I was still the only person she had been intimate with.
During the heavy rain, her father tried to pick her up by car, but traffic was backed up all the way to the highway entrance, so there was no way he could reach her. And that’s how she ended up spending the night with me for the first time.
She walked from work to my apartment and first called her mother to say she’d be staying at a senior colleague’s place. After that, it somehow felt like our first night as newlyweds. We took a bath together, sat naked on the sofa watching Netflix, and got hooked on an anime we happened to start. By the time we finished binge-watching it, it was late, so we hurriedly had sex and then fell asleep holding each other.
It had been a long time since I’d experienced something like that.
Every time I woke up, I touched her and held her, and she hugged me back. Toward morning, we had sex again and I came inside her.
We prepared breakfast together and ate side by side. We both said, “That really felt like our first night as newlyweds,” and it turned into a wonderful night.
So, having a strict curfew can sometimes lead to this kind of exciting situation. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all.
> My curfew is 11 p.m.
That’s perfectly fine.
We’ve had women register with curfews around that time before, and they dated normally. If a man is genuinely interested in meeting you, he’ll work around your 11 p.m. curfew.
Some women have been hurt when men said things like, “You really have a curfew that early? That can’t be true.” But there aren’t many men like that, so as long as you can cut them off quickly, I think you’ll be fine. In fact, you probably won’t run into many of them in the first place.
