A Japanese Education

*****

It was slightly after four when we put down our bags in my little flat, but as the weather was pleasant, we decided to head out right away. We didn't have any set destination in mind, so I took Mom on a small tour of my neighborhood. There was nothing special to the place: it was just another of those little villages that constitute the Japanese capital, with quiet streets and low-rise buildings, away from the busy skyscrapers of Shinjuku. There were rarely any cars navigating the sharp turns and narrow lanes, though you sometimes met a policeman on patrol pedaling on his bike. The main street had a few shops, including a rice store (which sold only rice -- when I arrived here, I couldn't believe there could be a store dedicated to just rice, however small), a tiny supermarket and a couple of restaurants. There was nothing special to it, except that it was so Japanese in every aspect. And over the past months, it had progressively become pleasantly familiar. Not really like home, since the whole experience remained fairly exotic, but something approaching it -- or at least a feeling of community.

I took Mom to a nice little yakitori place I knew, where they served coal-grilled skewers with a wide array of choices. The room was tiny, with three tables huddled against the wall and a counter where customers rubbed shoulders while drinking tall glasses of beer. It didn't seem like much, but the food was good and we had a great time. We had a few drinks, and we were more than a little tipsy when we walked back to my place. We got in, took off our shoes, and I sat on the tatami (with something of a heavy thud) and grabbed the TV remote. Mom was looking for something in her bag, and turned towards me:

"What about a bath, baby?"

I looked at her, confused. "What?"

She smiled: "You told me that the Japanese usually take baths in the evening. And since we started doing it over the week-end, I thought we might as well stick to it."

I frowned. "Mom, are you sure about that?"

"Come on, humor me. You're not going to spend the evening watching TV, are you? Or are you already bored with my company?"

"No, Mom, that's not --"

"Good, then get up and come with me. I've got plenty of questions for you, Mr. Knowledgeable-on-Japan, and I don't intend to carry on a conversation through the door."

I sighed and turned off the TV before heading for the bathroom area. Mom was already undressed except for her panties, and I stopped in my tracks. She looked at me over her shoulder and smiled, softly saying:

"Here we go..." as she bent over pulling her panties down her thighs, then she stood back up with a little shimmy and they dropped to the floor. She giggled as she stepped out of them and into the bathroom, all bouncy curves. I blinked, the vision of her soft silhouette burned in my mind. I shook my head and started to undress. When I got inside, she was sitting on the little stool, her creamy skin all covered in soapsuds. I stood awkwardly by the door, modestly holding a towel in front of me. Mom giggled: "There you are..." She noticed the towel, and rolled her eyes: "Chris, don't tell me you're still trying to hide over there? Stop being ridiculous, I've already seen all there was to see during this week-end." Shaking her head, she picked up the shower and rinsed away the soap. She stood up, and curtsying before me: "Sir, the seat is yours". She then climbed into the bathtub, and watched me as I took her place on the stool. I began to wash myself, glad that my sitting position was hiding my slightly swollen cock.

"So you were saying that this is something that the Japanese do often..."

"Yeah. I mean, you've seen how there's a whole economy based on hot springs resorts, right? And this (waving around to encompass the bathroom) is the standard set-up. With the built-in heater for the bathtub, so that the water is always at the right temperature."

"I noticed. I was a bit puzzled by the cover on the bathtub the first day I arrived here, but it all makes sense now. It's nice, too."

"Mm-hmm."

She giggled. "And it seems it's also very much ingrained in their... erotic material too."

I stopped rubbing my chest with the soap and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I've looked at a few of your comic books, and there's a lot of bath scenes."

I nearly panicked: "My comic-- what comic books?"

She giggled. "The ones in the sliding cupboard, behind the futons. I found them the other day, when I folded your laundry. I didn't want to intrude, but I got curious."

I blushed. "Oh, um, yeah, the mangas, you mean. I got them... a while ago."

"Baby, you don't have to justify yourself, it's normal. And for me, it was... educational. (she giggled again) And there were quite a few bath scenes too."

"Yeah, as I said, the baths are something of a fixture in Japanese society."

Mom nodded. "Sure seems that way, considering those... nanga, you said?"

"Manga. It's the Japanese word for 'comic books'."

"Manga, right. I think there were one or two stories happening in a hot springs resort, just like the one we were in. And I remember a few happening at home. Funny though, those ones usually had the guy being rather passive. And somewhat younger too. Is there a reason for that?"

I blushed deep red, as I realized which stories she was referring to. "Erm, yeah, that is... well, those stories -- I mean, when I bought those mangas, they were second-hand, and it was a set, right? And I guess that in there, there was an anthology or two that dealt with... well, they're about incest, and..."

Of course, that wasn't entirely true -- while I had indeed bought the books in a second-hand store, I had chosen each and every one of them, fully knowing what they were about. Mom's mouth made a round 'o', before she giggled again. "I see. They have those in Japan?"

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "Obviously."

Mom turned towards me, resting her elbows on the side of the bath. There was an uncomfortable amount of cleavage (with a hint of nipple) on display, and I felt myself tense. Oblivious, she continued: "Hm, so is it something that's more... frequent here than in the US?"

"Probably not. I wouldn't consider those mangas as documentary material for anything. (Mom giggled again) I mean, you've seen a few Japanese women since you arrived here, right?"

"Hm-hm."

"So tell me, did you see any that was even remotely similar to what you've seen in those mangas, in the chest department?"

Mom smiled. "Not even close."

"See? This is all just fantasy stuff."

"Oh, good. So that means that it's the same for the guys?"

It was my turn to smile. "Indeed. There's this rumor that condoms in Asia are shorter than elsewhere in the world, so that the guys don't feel inadequate or something. I don't know how much of it is an urban legend, but the thing is, Japanese men are not really famous for being well-endowed."

"I didn't know."

"What's funny, is that it seems that Japanese girls are kinda afraid that Western guys would be too big, and that they might become... you know, distended? Because of their size."

Mom chuckled. "Really?"

"Really. I remember this conversation -- I have a French colleague, Nicolas, who's dating a Japanese girl, and he had set up something of a double date for me. And in the middle of the dinner, the two girls start discussing this very topic, with Nicolas' girlfriend explaining that yes, she was afraid at the beginning, for no reason after all."

Mom chuckled again. "Wow. That must have been some evening."

"Oh yes. The conversations were very... lively, that's for sure. Didn't work out for me in the end, but it was fun."

"Aww. Well, that probably shows that those (she hesitated) mangas are clearly geared towards men. A way to compensate, maybe?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Does that mean that Japanese guys are into big breasts?"

"Hm, I guess some are. According to Nicolas, it wasn't the case for a long time, but since the early 2000s, there's been something of a... 'boom', if you pardon the expression, in big-breasted idols. You know, those are the pin-up girls, like the one on the beer poster in the restaurant earlier. And it's true there's a few of those, but I'm not sure that's such a widely shared fantasy -- and considering Japanese women, that's quite understandable."

Mom seemed to ponder that for a moment, then looking kindly at me. "So baby, have you dated much since you came here?"

I made a face. "To be honest, not really, Mom. In fact, not at all."

"Awww, how come?"

"There's plenty of reasons, you know..."

"You're too big down there?", she chuckled.

I shook my head. "No, Mom -- I mean, I never really managed to get to the point where it'd become a factor. I guess it's more a mix of being busy at work, the fact that I can be a little shy, and the fact that Japanese is a difficult language." I shrugged.

"My poor baby..." She extended a hand to touch my arm. I turned and smiled at her (very much aware of the exposed breast in front of me).

"It's okay, Mom. Don't worry. I mean, it can be a little lonely, but I'm not desperate. I wouldn't want to be with someone I wouldn't care for, you know?"

"That's my boy." She seemed pensive, then smiled with something of a mischievous glint in her eye. "That's too bad, though, when you think of it..."

"What is?"

"That you came to Japan."

I frowned. "Why is that?"

"Look at it this way: we are in a country where you have trouble dating, and from what you say, I would probably not appeal to a lot of guys. And yet, we correspond to a 'T' to their fantasy archetypes."

I looked at Mom, confused. "What do you mean?"

She chuckled. "Come on, look at us! It's like we came out of the pages of one of your mangas. I sure got the tits (shaking her shoulders to make them jiggle), and from what I've seen, you certainly got the cock, baby." She winked at me.

I swallowed hard, not really knowing how to react. "Um..."

"I'm only telling the truth. Such a shame... (she shook her head) Okay baby, I'm going to let you enjoy the bath now."

She stood up, stepped over the side of the tub and walked behind me to grab one of the towels hanging from the wall. I rinsed myself and quickly entered the tub, hoping to hide my half-hard cock. It was nearly miraculous I had managed to keep it that way, considering the views I'd had and the strange turn of our conversation.

Drying herself, Mom said: "I can really understand the appeal for this, though." I looked at her, askance. "The bath thing, I mean. It's really nice, I could definitely get used to it."

"Hm-hm," I grunted. I was glad I was in the tub now -- as my cock was fully hard now. Mom didn't seem in any hurry to cover herself, she was positively gorgeous, and all the stories in those naughty anthologies came flooding back to me. I tried to push them away and think of something else. And thankfully, Mom eventually walked out to the living room, and I was left alone. Soaking in the hot water, I took me some time before I managed to return to a somewhat decent state.

*****

Mom was still asleep when I left for work the following morning. It was early, since I always liked to have something of a head start on Mondays, and that also gave me the opportunity to leave a little earlier in the evening. Sunset came much earlier in Tokyo, for some strange reason, and these days it was dark around 5:30pm. I managed to leave a little before that, and we went to Shinjuku as the city was lighting up for the night. I took her to a nice restaurant I knew, which did chicken wings and served some incredible tofu. Mom was in a great mood, and spent a lot of the evening bitching about James. I guess it seemed a safe assumption that she was getting over him.

We walked back home, enjoying the cool breeze of the evening. It wasn't that late, and Mom insisted we take a bath. She claimed it was important for her to make some effort to embrace the Japanese culture, and this was much easier than trying to learn the language. Our bathroom conversation that evening was certainly tamer than the previous day (though Mom was still blowing off some of her grudges against James, including the apparent lack of sex). And yet, it proved much more difficult for me to remain somewhat decent -- and I'm not sure I was entirely successful. The real embarrassing moment came after the bath though: Mom had gone first, and when I entered the living room, she was sitting on the tatami, going through one of my mangas. Next to her was the remainder of the pile, and she was giggling softly.

"What's making you laugh, Mom?"

"I was thinking of our conversation, yesterday. It's incredible how over the top the bodies are -- look at this woman, her tits are larger than her head! And the guy here, his dick must hang down to his knees... and he's always hard!"

I sighed. "Yeah, not sure they're aiming for realism there, you know?"

"Oh, certainly not. And here comes the money shot -- damn, that thing must be a fire hose, he's cumming in buckets!"

I chuckled with her, but inwardly I was feeling more than a little embarrassed by this. There were numerous reasons for that: I had jerked off more than once to that very story (the incest bath scene, to be precise); I certainly wasn't used to hearing my mother use that kind of vocabulary, much less talk about those things; and Mom was sporting a tight tank top that left her nipples clearly visible, which made the whole scene particularly erotic for me. Moreover, I was wearing boxers and a t-shirt as I was getting ready to go to bed, and there wasn't much I could do to hide any tension that might arise. I quickly explained I was tired and tucked into my futon. Mom soon did the same, and turned off the light. She seemed to fall asleep very quickly, and I stared out in the dark, waiting. Usually, I jerked off almost every day, but since Mom had come to visit, I hadn't managed to do it even once, and the accumulated tension was definitely starting to weigh on me.

I had planned to take Mom to Shibuya the next evening, but unfortunately, something came up in the middle of the afternoon, and my boss and I ended up having a late conference call with the UK office. It was well past 7:30pm when I got back home. I had called Mom beforehand, and told her to go buy us dinner at the store next door. I had dined on their 'bento' menus more than once, and they were pretty good for the price.

I opened the door, called out ("I'm home") and as I was taking off my shoes, I noticed the bento boxes artfully displayed on the low table. "Come in, baby" replied Mom, "I'm getting the drinks." I sat down at my usual place, taking in the colorful array of dishes. She had chosen well, and it was reassuring to see she could manage by herself, even if she didn't speak a word of Japanese. I heard her steps, and I looked up to congratulate her -- and I stopped.

"Mom! Wh- what is that?"

She grinned: "You like it, baby? Here is your tea, by the way."

I repeated: "Wh- what are you doing like this?"

"Hm, I thought I would surprise you. And it seems it worked." She grinned again and did a little spin for me. I couldn't believe my eyes: Mom was standing in front of me, wearing nothing but a yellow apron that barely managed to keep her breasts from spilling everywhere. I was speechless.

"Cat got your tongue, baby? (she giggled) I was going through your mangas, this afternoon, and it got me thinking. I know you're all tense and busy at work, and I wanted to help you relax. And it seems that's the way Japanese mothers deal with that kind of thing." She sat down on the other side of the table, winked at me, and giggled again.

"Mom, you can't be serious..."

"But maybe you'd prefer to take a bath before we get to eat? I'm sorry I didn't ask... you seem awfully tense, baby."

She shuffled around the table to come kneeling behind me, and started massaging my shoulders. Her presence so close was intoxicating. "Come on, baby, let's take a bath. And don't be mad at me, I only wanted to surprise you."

I followed her to the bathroom. She took off the apron and waited for me to undress. I tried to lighten the mood a little.

"By the way, where did you get that apron? Because I sure don't remember having one..."

She smiled: "I went to the little supermarket you showed me the other. There was a little old lady that was really helpful. If only she had known what it was for..."

"Mom, honestly, what gave you this idea?"

"Your mangas, baby. There's a scene just like this one in there. And based on the material I had, it was the apron or the maid outfit, and they were out of maid outfits at the supermarket."

"Ah ha."

I was finally naked, and I indicated Mom she should go ahead. "No, baby, you go first. I've done some Internet searching today, and I've learned plenty of things about Japanese baths. And how I'm supposed to wash your back. So sit down and let's get started."

I obeyed, in a way glad that Mom was positioned behind me. That way, there was far less stimulation for me, and I could hope to avoid embarrassing myself. The surprise had somehow prevented me from getting a hard-on, but I had the impression that it was only a matter of time until that effect dissipated, and the less I was likely to see my mother's gorgeous body, the safer it was. I was curious, though.

"Mom, I still don't understand how you would consider something like this."

She came to sit on the side of the bathtub, on my left. Since the bathroom stool was very low, I had to look up to see her eyes -- meaning her breasts were pretty much level with my face. I started to feel my cock stir, and swallowing hard, I repeated. "Really, I don't understand..."

She smiled. "It's really simple. As I said, I was looking at your mangas, and I got the idea, and I thought it would be fun. And I've wasted way too much time restraining myself for that douche-bag James, so I decided to act on it."

"Yeah, but still, Mom..."

"Listen, baby. I've spent a year with a guy who thought looking at my body was going to condemn him to Hell. And since I got here, I got the impression I scare guys when I meet their eyes in the street. They don't even look at me, and besides, they are usually short, skinny, and I've yet to find one that would be my type. So when I have an idea that makes me feel sexy and fun, and allows me to surprise a handsome guy that, obviously, finds me desirable, I don't hesitate. Even if that guy happens to be my son."

I blushed bright red. I had become fully hard during her little monologue, and the 'obviously' had benefited from added emphasis as her gaze had been clearly directed at my groin, before coming back to stare me in the eye. I tried to hide it (even if it was too late) by squeezing my thighs shut, but Mom reacted:

"And you shouldn't be ashamed of that, Chris. Despite all the silly stuff Japanese girls might say, your cock is beautiful and there's nothing wrong with it. And besides (she giggled), I've had plenty of opportunities to see it lately."

"Yeah, I suppose. I mean, I was kinda hoping you wouldn't notice, but..." Mom laughed.

"No chance of that. So to say. (she giggled) Come on, baby, stop it with the long face. You really need to relax, you know? I'm not shocked, believe me, this is not the first cock I've seen, and it's a lovely one to boot. As I said I enjoy feeling sexy and desirable, and there's no more sincere indication of that than a man getting a nice hard-on in my presence. I'm not mad at you, I'm just enjoying spending time together. And you should be doing the same."

I nodded, she smiled. "Good. Now that this has been settled, give me the soap. I've got to wash your back."