Hello.
I’m a Japanese man in my late 30s, providing intimate services for women in Tokyo.
Sexual Aroma (Yoni) Massage for Women and Male Escort Services in Tokyo, Japan
In this blog, I share my experiences from sessions with clients who have reached out to me.
Today, I’d like to talk about a recent request I received from a foreign woman.
A Singaporean Woman’s Request for Intimate Services
【 Nickname 】：●●
【 Age 】：42
【 Height (cm) 】：160
【 Weight 】：56～60kg
【 Nationality 】：Singaporean
【 Occupation 】：Software
【 E-mail address 】：●●
【 Area where you want me to come 】：Hamamatsucho
【 Service contents 】：
Sexual/Erotic oil massage
Yoni (Vagina) massage
Oral sex (Cunnilingus)
【 Your inquiry or any questions 】：
I can’t speak Japanese.
I wouldn’t consider myself slim but I don’t have body image issues, I am confident in my body, it’s
healthy and mostly happy 🙂 looking for a new experience
She was a Singaporean woman named Jenny (pseudonym).
A lover of Japanese culture, she had visited Japan multiple times before.
The main purpose of her trip this time was to enjoy winter activities like skiing—but that wasn’t all.
“I want to try something new in Japan.”
With that thought in mind, she reached out to me.
She would like to have Sexual Massage, Yoni Massage, and Cunnilingus!
It was her curiosity and sense of exploration that brought us together.
Tips for Foreign Women on Sexual Massage Services in Tokyo
Is Cunnilingus the Ultimate Form of Loving Communication?
I once heard that, compared to the rest of the world, Japanese men tend to spend more time on cunnilingus.
…But why?
Is it because we’re deeply affectionate? Or because we’re perverts? (Haha.)
Personally, I think I fall into the category of those who take their time.
If time allows, I try to lick a woman’s private parts for at least an hour—while, of course, being extremely careful to avoid any discomfort. Using her natural lubrication, keeping my tongue soft, and being as gentle as possible.
Why do I spend so much time on it?
The answer is simple:
Because it brings women genuine pleasure.
Is there any act that conveys love more clearly than cunnilingus?
A woman gathers the courage to remove her underwear, exposing the most intimate part of herself. And in return, a man devotes himself to her with his tongue.
At first, there’s always a bit of emotional distance. It’s natural—after all, we’ve just met, and nervousness is inevitable.
But by the time it’s over, that distance has vanished, as if we’ve been lovers for years.
That, to me, is the magic of this service. The magic of cunnilingus!
Of course, not every woman enjoys it. Some feel too self-conscious, while others simply don’t find it pleasurable.
But if you’re even a little bit curious, I encourage you to give it a try.
Because beyond that first step, a whole new world may be waiting for you.
A Sensual Session with a Singaporean Woman in Tokyo
The meeting place: a hotel near Hamamatsucho Station in Tokyo.
It was just past 8 PM, and I was walking through the streets near Hamamatsucho Station. A client had called for me.
Hamamatsucho is known as a business district, where countless elite businessmen rush about their day. But thanks to its convenient access to Haneda Airport, it’s also a popular spot for foreign travelers.
That night, a steady drizzle fell, the cold rain hinting at the approaching winter. With an umbrella in hand, I made my way to the hotel where she was staying.
Tonight’s client was a woman from Singapore.
As I walked, I found myself wondering—just how many nationalities had I given a massage to? I tried to count but quickly gave up. “Eh, never mind.” The number of cross-border encounters keeps growing, but one thing is certain—I’m still a long way from world domination!
Carrying my massage oil and fresh towels in my bag, I continued forward, ready once again to contribute to a woman’s sexual wellness.
When I arrived at the hotel entrance, she was already there, standing quietly.
She wore a simple outfit—a white coat over jeans. Light rain dotted her shoulders, yet she remained calm and composed as she waited for me.
I was certain it was her, so I gently called out.
“Hi, I’m Arashima.”
She immediately looked up, her eyes lighting up as she responded in a bright voice, “Heeey! How are you?”
Most women are at least a little nervous when meeting me for the first time, but she seemed surprisingly at ease.
Her long hair had a slight brownish tint, and her smile was incredibly charming. There was something so warm and inviting about her that I found myself relaxing as well.
She led the way through the hotel lobby, and we stepped into the elevator together.
There were other people inside, but in an effort to lighten the mood, I struck up a conversation in my less-than-perfect English.
“Where did you go today?”
“What did you have for dinner?”
She smiled and answered each question patiently.
It was nice—she genuinely seemed to enjoy the conversation.
When the elevator doors quietly slid open, we walked side by side down the hallway.
“This is my room. It’s really small, but please, come in.”
She opened the door as she spoke, revealing a compact space—just a bed and a desk, with barely any extra room.
But for a massage, it was more than enough. Unlike the chilly night outside, the room was warm and inviting.
And soon, this ordinary little room would transform into something entirely different—a space charged with sensuality, once she undressed and I began the session.
“If you get thirsty, there’s some water here.”
“Do you need a towel?”
She was considerate, making sure I was comfortable, and I could sense her thoughtful nature.
The situation of just the two of us in a small room, meeting for the first time, was both exciting and daunting at the same time.
Time was limited—our session had to end before the last train.
“Just keep your panties on and wear a bathrobe over them.”
I told her, and she nodded lightly. “Okay.”
Then, she walked into the bathroom.
The soft sound of the door closing left me alone in the room.
Now, it was time for the session to begin.
The Ultimate Relaxation Through a Sensual Massage
She lay on the bed, completely at ease, her body surrendering to relaxation as she rested face down.
A large bath towel draped over her sun-kissed skin, creating a serene and intimate atmosphere.
She hadn’t specifically requested an aromatherapy relaxation massage.
Yet, unlocking sensual pleasure begins with unwinding both the body and mind.
Before anything else, I needed to ease away her tension, allowing desire to bloom naturally.
With this in mind, I warmed a generous amount of oil between my hands and began gliding them over her legs.
Her toned yet supple skin shimmered under the oil’s sheen, becoming even softer to the touch.
Applying gentle pressure, I kneaded her muscles—slow, deliberate movements to soothe the lingering fatigue in her legs.
A quiet exhale escaped her lips, signaling the release of tension as she melted further into relaxation.
Gradually, my hands traveled upward, reaching her hips.
I cupped her curves, my palms molding against the supple flesh, fingers tracing the gentle bounce of her skin.
Her posture, her breathing, the way her body surrendered to my touch—everything told me she had fully relaxed.
I shifted the towel down to expose her upper body.
And at that moment, the side of her breast peeked out invitingly from beneath the fabric.
Her breasts, pressed against the bed, subtly changed shape as if unconsciously emphasizing their softness.
Trailing my fingertips from her waist to her shoulders, I traced a path back down along her arms, skimming just past the edge of her breast—an almost accidental, yet deliberate touch.
She flinched ever so slightly.
That slight reaction… That undeniable, instinctive response.
I felt my own arousal stirring.
Gliding my hands over her back, sometimes with just my fingertips grazing her skin, sometimes pressing closer to share the warmth of my body, I let the moment unfold.
My breath, warm against her skin.
A barely-there brush of my hardened length against her thigh.
She must have noticed.
I silently wished she felt the same anticipation building between us.
I continued the massage slowly, carefully tending to her back—occasionally letting my touch become deliberately sensual.
And when I sensed she had fully surrendered to this intoxicating state, I whispered softly,
“Turn over for me.”
Slowly, unhurriedly, she rolled onto her back, her body ready for what was to come.
Teasing and Temptation: The Art of Slow Seduction
Even though she was covered by a towel, the soft, voluptuous mounds beneath the fabric inevitably drew my gaze.
Large, full, and undeniably erotic in their shape.
But I resisted the urge to rush. Instead, I chose to start the massage again from her legs.
Ankles, knees, thighs—
As I worked the oil into her skin, applying gentle pressure with my palms, I could feel her body growing warmer, her skin taking on a soft, dewy glow.
The sensation beneath my hands was exquisite—both supple and firm in just the right way, yielding slightly under my touch yet retaining a pleasant tension.
As I repeated my strokes, I suddenly noticed something.
Her legs were slowly parting.
As if silently inviting me to explore deeper.
Yet, I resisted. I deliberately avoided the most sensitive area.
Instead, I let my fingertips glide along the inner thighs, teasingly tracing the edge of her panties before gently stroking the soft skin just beside them.
It was a touch that went beyond ordinary massage—one that steadily heightened her arousal.
Each time my fingers barely grazed her, her skin trembled ever so slightly, and her breath deepened just a fraction.
My hands slowly traveled upward, slipping beneath the towel, carefully tracing the curves of her body.
And then, finally—
I reached her breasts.
Even as she lay on her back, their presence was undeniable.
As I pressed my palms against them, they shifted gently, molding into my hands with a soft resilience that sent a deep thrill through me.
They were so irresistible that I wanted to keep touching them forever.
The room was silent except for the sound of her slow, sensual breaths.
I avoided her nipples, instead tracing slow, deliberate circles along the outer edges of her breasts with my fingertips.
Teasing. Drawing out the anticipation.
Her chest rose and fell slightly, her breath growing uneven.
Wanting to take things further, I leaned over her, lowering my lips to her arm, planting the first of many kisses.
I pressed my body against hers, feeling her warmth as I took my time, caressing her not just with my fingertips but also with my lips and tongue.
Slowly, carefully, thoroughly.
With each kiss on her skin, I could feel her breath growing warmer. As my lips traced her neck, collarbone, and shoulders, then slowly made their way to her soft chest, a slight shiver ran through her body.
I paid extra attention to the places that elicited the strongest reactions.
Especially her nipples.
When I lightly flicked one with my tongue, her back arched just a little. Enclosing it gently with my lips, I ran my tongue over it, savoring the way she let out a suppressed, sweet moan.
As I sucked softly, I teased her other nipple between my fingers, stimulating both at once. The combination of my lips and fingertips heightened her pleasure, deepening her arousal.
The more I wanted her to feel good, the more intense my kisses became, and my touch grew more passionate.
But there was still one place I hadn’t explored yet.
The most sensitive, the most intimate part of her.
I ran my fingers over her panties, ever so lightly.
Even through the fabric, I could feel how damp and warm she had already become.
I wanted to taste her—slowly, thoroughly—to bring her the deepest pleasure possible.
Cunnilingus Time
It was finally time for cunnilingus.
I slipped my fingers under the waistband of her black underwear and slowly, effortlessly slid them down.
Her smooth, bare skin was revealed, along with the delicate, hairless slit between her legs. Under the dim lighting, its beauty stood out even more, glistening with anticipation.
Gently, I placed my hands on her knees and eased them apart.
Her chest rose and fell slowly, a subtle mix of tension and expectation lingering in the air.
Bringing my face closer, I first let my tongue barely graze her.
A soft, trembling “Ahhh…” escaped her lips, breaking the silence of the room.
Then, ever so slowly—almost as if time had stopped—I ran my tongue from the bottom to the top, with careful, deliberate strokes.
Her legs trembled slightly, and her breath, sweet and longing, filled the quiet space.
Her warmth intensified, her arousal coating my tongue as it slid effortlessly along her slick folds.
But I held back—I didn’t touch her clitoris just yet.
Each time my tongue neared it, I stopped just short, then started over again, dragging out the anticipation.
Like savoring ice cream, letting it melt bit by bit.
“Haa… Ahh… Haa…“
Her breathing grew heavier.
Then, as if instinctively seeking more, her hips started to move, subtly adjusting to guide my tongue right where she wanted it.
She was finding her own rhythm, her body responding to the teasing in the most sensual way.
At the same time, her hands found her breasts, kneading them, pinching her nipples.
I was happy to see her letting herself go sexually, even though we had only met an hour or two ago.
I followed her lead, adding just a hint more pressure with my tongue—but still holding back, refusing to take control.
Instead, I simply stayed there, letting her use my tongue however she pleased.
At that moment, I wasn’t just pleasuring her.
I had become her sex toy—her instrument of pleasure.
But I, too, was overwhelmed with uncontrollable arousal.
With every flick of my tongue, every drop of her heat coating me, I craved her even more.
I must really love cunnilingus.
Her hips jerked, as if desperate for more, demanding more.
Countdown to Orgasm
This time, I decided to take control. I gripped her waist firmly, holding her in place as I finally let my tongue tease her clitoris.
At first, gently, cautiously.
“Mmnh…! Ahh…!”
Her moans filled the room, her breathing growing more erratic.
The sounds she made, the way her body trembled—I could tell she was close.
Wanting to push her even higher, I slowly slid my middle finger inside her.
Warm. Wet. She welcomed me without resistance.
I curled my finger at just the right angle, matching the movements of my tongue as I worked in tandem to build her pleasure.
“Oh my god…! Oh my god…!”
Her voice shook, her walls clenched around my finger.
Her body jerked, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly as her hips writhed, chasing after my touch.
Before me, she was lost in pleasure, her body surrendering completely to the overwhelming sensation.
The sheer eroticism of the sight sent waves of heat surging through me.
I was consumed, devouring her with my tongue, pressing into her clit while my fingers reached deeper inside.
“Ahh…! Ahhh…!”
Her moans grew louder, her body tensed, and she clenched the sheets as if holding on for dear life.
I felt it—her pulsing around my fingers, the rush of heat against my tongue.
Her orgasm crashed over her, making her body tremble in waves of ecstasy.
I kept my tongue moving, slowly savoring every last tremor of her pleasure, until finally, she melted into the bed, spent, breathless, and smiling sweetly in the afterglow.”
A Story About Giving a Happy Ending Massage to a Virgin Chinese Woman at Tokyo Haneda
Sensual Massage Experience in Tokyo: A Canadian Woman’s Journey
Parting Ways and Lingering Sensations
After a passionate embrace, I left her hotel.
Outside, the rain had stopped without me noticing. The air was still slightly damp, but the cool night breeze felt refreshing.
I glanced at my watch—almost 11 PM.
I barely had enough time to catch the last train, so I hurried toward the station.
As the train rocked gently, my phone vibrated.
A message from her.
“Thank you for tonight, you were really wonderful. And you are so sweet and handsome. Hope you have a good journey home. Xoxo”
I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
She was kind, so I was sure there was a bit of flattery in her words.
Still, there was no doubt—she had enjoyed herself.
The exhaustion from my long day seemed to fade away, as if her words had given me a massage in return.
Gazing out at the city lights flickering past the train window, I let myself relax, slowly making my way home.
