Encouraging My Innocent Wife to Cuckold Me
- 2 years ago
- 14
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Die Sonne brannte ziemlich, als ich den Berg zum Wohnheim hochlief. Klar hätte ich mir ein Taxi nehmen können, aber dazu war ich zu geizig.Nur dass mir mein Vater viel Geld zur Verfügung stellte hieß ja noch lange nicht, dass ich es mit vollen Händen zum Fenster rauswerfen musste.
Ich gebe zu, ich hatte den Berg unterschätzt. von unten sah der Weg gar nicht so steil aus, wie er sich jetzt anfühlte. Meine Waden schmerzten. Aber wenn ich eines gelernt habe, dann dass man hier in Japan keine Schwäche zeigt. Wir lebten ja auch schon lange genug hier. Mein Vater leitete damals den japanischen Ableger eines deutschen Maschinenherstellers. Und weil er ständig neue Kunden für die Vorzüge deutscher Ingenieurskunst gewinnen wollte waren wir gerade zum dritten Mal in 5 Jahren umgezogen.
Diesmal hatte es uns in die Nähe von Hirakata verschlagen. Und da meine Eltern eh nie zu Hause waren fand ich es eh besser, in ein Internat zu gehen. Ich konnte diese Schuhkartons, die die Japaner Appartement nennen noch nie leiden. Irgendwie war man da nie wirklich allein. Sowas wie Privatsphäre schien es nie zu geben. Da waren mir die Internate lieber. Da hatte man ein Zimmer für sich und die anderen Mitbewohner waren im gleichen Alter wie man selber. Nur haben wir noch nie irgendwo lange genug gelebt, um wirklich gute Freundschaften aufzubauen.
Diesmal sollte sich das aber zumindest für mich ändern, denn ich stand kurz vor den Abschlussprüfungen und deshalb würde ich selbst dann in Hirakata bleiben, wenn mein Vater sich Kunden in Sapporo angeln sollte. Und das war immerhin 800 Kilometer weiter nördlich.
Die Schule hatte ich mir aus zwei Gründen ausgesucht. Erstens: Sie hatte einen mehr als guten Ruf. Wer hier seinen Abschluss machte, der konnte sich etwas darauf einbilden.
Und zweitens (ich weiß nicht was für mich wichtiger war): Die Schule wurde überwiegend von Mädchen besucht.
Jungen wurden erst seit zwei Jahren an der Kunimi-yama-Schule aufgenommen.
So war ich nun also einer von nur 12 Jungs unter etwa 350 Mädchen. Und noch dazu war ich Europäer. Also doppelt fremd, wenn man so will.
Nachdem ich mich nun also in der Augustsonne Japans den Berg hochgequält hatte stand ich nun vor dem Wohnheim, dass die nächsten zwei Jahre mein zuhause sein sollte.
Ich betrat das hellgrün gestrichene sechsstöckige Gebäude und fand mich in einer Art Empfangshalle wieder.
Irgendwo hier musste ich mich bei der Verwaltung melden.
Im hinteren Bereich war eine Art Empangstresen, hinter dem aber niemand zu sehen war. Außerdem gab es ein Telefon, das an der Wand hing und eine Tür die zu einer Art Büro zu führen schien.
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