So you've met Miss Stiffy and you've had our male perspective writer who has yet to choose a name for himself. Now, our fourth and final writer: The wonderful Kinky Tikki!
Perverse pilgrim, warped wanderer, salacious sightseer, I
suppose you could call me Franksexual’s 'foreign correspondent'. I’m currently
in Tokyo and planning to do more travelling over the next year or so. I’m also,
perhaps, your window into a bit of kink.
I hesitate to describe myself as 'kinky', since in the grand scheme of things I’m pretty laid – back: your
conception of what counts as extreme definitely shifts in relation to what
you’ve seen, so it’s sort of impossible to put kink on a graph. I usually say
that on a scale of vanilla to… err…
liquorice, I’m about cinnamon.
I’ve tried a few things and floated
around the fringes of the kink scene for a few years, but I’m by no means
experienced. I do adore the unconventional, challenging and lascivious things
in life, though, and I have a tendency to seek them out. Comfort zone? What
comfort zone?
When I was asked to write for Franksexual, I must admit I
saw it as a challenge. Maybe even an excuse, as though I should need one. I’m
now officially TASKED with the job of getting into all sorts of mischief in
order to answer those burning questions everybody has about the Japanese sexual
underworld, viz:
'Do they really have tiny cocks?'
'Do they all secretly lust after schoolgirls and tentacles?'
'Do they really sell used knickers in vending machines?'
'After all the rape porn they’re inundated with, does “no”
kind of mean “yes”?'
'Do all Japanese girls really make that squeaky noise in
bed?'
'What do they think of Westerners and our own sex lives?'
So stay with me, dear readers, as I attempt to answer all
this and more. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.
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