Springtime in Nangaku:
Further Adventures with Japanese Chicks

Book information

Now available in paperback and ebook.
Cover illustration and design by Bo Mak.

About your question; Do Nangaku girls want to do handjob for you thanking you for helping them?

Answer; I’m afraid that few girls think like that because basically we consider you as a “teacher” whom we respect and admire. I guess we look at you somewhat like a “God”,leading us to ryugaku [studying abroad]. At least I looked at you like that way. You looked like a God to me!! So, I couldnt think of doing handjob to the God because simply I couldn’t imagine clearly that the God has penis!!

 I was skeptical. If Nangaku women regarded me as God-like, they had been concealing it well. You don’t try to pull God’s pants off, or randomly grab His butt-cheek when He walks by your desk, or pluck hairs out of His chest on a whim. But I appreciated the sentiment, anyway. Kotoko was just the best.

And now, more Random Lines from Springtime in Nangaku: Further Adventures with Japanese Chicks (2015).

I had known Kiko only three months by this time but liked to think myself the world’s foremost scholar of her cleavage. I could easily have cranked out a ten-page paper on the subject and a couple of haikus on the side. By no means was I philosophically opposed to having my pants pulled down by perhaps the most beguiling freshman girl in the entire International Relations Department; it was just that I would have preferred not having it done in front of a live and increasingly rowdy audience.
I propose this as a cultural universal: It’s always a sign of a successful party when there are Mystery Pants.

From the very first day of class, a chilly April morning, she had been showing me the goods from a front-row center seat, her alabaster bosoms lolling on her desk like two baby white seals sunning on an ice floe.

When your workday begins with thirty young Japanese adults eagerly repeating a dialogue about their desire to rub Ronald Reagan’s wrists, you don’t crave artificial sources of rejuvenation. 

To this day, “They have no nipples” remains the most efficiently vicious remark I have ever been present to hear any woman say about other women. If, God forbid, I were to find myself entangled in a fantasy sports league, They Have No Nipples is what I would name my team.

If Kuni were heaven-sent, she was not of that quadrant of Heaven that churns out the limber, top-heavy Victoria’s Secret angels that were NU’s stock in trade. Kuni was from old-school Heaven, home base of Cupids and other childlike cherubs, creatures so presexual as to seem androgynous when they weren’t caught peeing into fountains.

Once you got over the oblong shape of her head—and once you had become a pathetic, poorly socialized, essentially friendless and oversexed forty-nine-year-old heterosexual white man—you had to admit that there was something quite fetching about this intern. A day without a dash of Kuni was…well, not quite a day.

One had to feel sorry for fathers of daughters, really. How frustrating must it be to come to Nangaku every day and not feel free to fantasize? It would be like making serial trips to Lourdes without bathing in its healing waters, or rocketing to the moon and just grabbing some rocks without pausing to take in the splendor of an Earthrise.

I thought about returning the compliment but felt it a bit early in our acquaintance for a frank exchange of views on the aesthetics of each other’s orifices. I’m just old-fashioned that way, you see.

Not only had she blithely accumulated vastly more sexual experience in half my years, but she was padding her lead on a weekly basis. Though she wasn’t deliberately showboating, she was gradually making me feel like the Washington Generals of sex.

One also notes that both of her hands are balled into fists in the photo, as if she has reserved until the last instant her right to choose between kissing me and pummeling me into unconsciousness. As the daughter of a prominent retired professional athlete, she was eminently capable of the latter. Looking back, I wish we could have done both.

I vowed to drink little, behave myself, and come home early. I almost pulled it off. True, I did kiss Goro on the lips to celebrate his consuming a raw garlic bulb. And I flirted shamelessly with the virginally blushing Shiori Taniguchi. And I asked Kisaburo Baba, apropos of nothing, what the largest object he had ever stuck up his butt was. But otherwise, I had been a model citizen.

Once the trauma of the inevitable breakup with Michiko had worn off, I was back on the sidelines, waving my arms like the scrawniest, runtiest kid trying to get noticed by the captains choosing sides for a pickup basketball game. Prey upon me! Oh, won’t someone please prey upon me? I’ll do my best to give satisfaction and shan’t be any bother, I swear!

I would look at her during those visits to my office and think, It’s the darnedest thing! Objectively, this is someone that I should be masturbating to on a regular basis. And yet, I could never manage to work her into the rotation.

Sensing this puppy-dog naivety on my part, NU girl-dom collectively sighed and resolved to let me live. I’m guessing it was one of those five-to-four decisions accompanied by a blistering dissent, though.

I had known that a beady-eyed junior boy, Yasushi, was fond of me ever since his attempt to slide his tongue down my throat during my birthday party the previous year.

Of all the classrooms in all the universities in all the world, she walks into mine.

Excerpt 1

He finished very fast.Around....2 minutes..?I was surprised and a little bit shocked because i couldn’t enjoy it at all...It was like “Oh? Already?” BUt i know girls aren’t supposed to say “You come so fast(or already?)”and “what are you thinking about now?”so,i didn’t say anything.....


Some ideas came up with me....the reasons are must be....


1.He hadn’t masturbated for a long time or hadn’t had sex in ages

2.He turned on too much because i was too sexy

3.Physically he is easy to come


If it’s 3, that’s a bit problem...Some friends had told me guys can overcome by training not to come fast.But we have only 4months left, so i wanna enjoy with him as soon as possible.


Well, anyway, I’ll wait and see the next time..If the same thing will happen,I’ll worried again..What do you think???I’m serious.


The first draft of my response began, “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” I supposed I could fly down there and sit in the room and stare during the whole proceeding. The unexplained presence of a silent, older, bald gentleman in the corner might provide about the right degree of buzzkill; I knew it would have worked for me.

Instead, I just got to waxing nostalgic about my own experience with premature ejaculation, and had ejaculated nearly two thousand words on the topic before I knew what was what. 

Excerpt 2

An early morning fog may linger at this altitude, and from this fog might emerge the angelic forms of any number of NU women, each with her own bluebird perched on her shoulder (or so it seems in memory), with a song in her heart and a dog-eared English textbook clutched to her bosom.

You instantly want to rest your knees on the warm red brick paving and give thanks to God almighty for making you a Nangaku English teacher. You feel lighter, airier…ennobled even, just to bask in the presence of these mythical beings. Their smiles radiate some meth-like property that puts a new spring in your step, their singsong morning greetings hit the cortex like so many lines of cocaine. Side effects may include excessive sweating, accelerated heartbeat, high body temperature, blurred vision, insomnia, palpitations, convulsions, irregular heartbeat, obsessive behaviors, paranoia, inflated self-opinion, chest-thumping, divorce, anxiety, agitation, sudden unemployment, destitution, euphoria, compulsive memoir-writing and chronic pantslessness. 

And so another day at NU begins.