When I walk I keep my eyes to the ground because it's impolite to look people in the eyes when there's no official business being conducted. This is also the mommas-boy way, and unless you deal in this type of specialty fetish play you'll never understand it. Anyway, I arrived exactly on time. She was there and spotted me before I spotted her. Tall for a Japanese, long clean heart shaped face, not one blemish, alto voice. Long fine black hair. Excellent proportions; good leg thickness and torso dimensions. Just delectable in every sinister way imaginable.
I motioned to her to follow me towards the escalator. For those of you who live in Yokohama should know that on this day it was snowing. The snow fell softly, too. I had no umbrella - on purpose of course. She opened up her umbrella - a huge purple and black traditional Japanese style umbrella. We rode the escalator up, of course I take the low position because she's the oldest and I'm the younger.
Reaching the top she insisted she carry the umbrella over our heads and not me. She was trying to keep me warm and dry by getting up close to me as we walked. Finally arriving at the coffee shop she removed her coat. She was wearing a cute low cut V-neck sweater. Grey. She had no huge talisman wrapped around her neck. No tattoos, no pink passion lipstick and nail art. No healing stones wrapped around her wrist. No god awful fancy French perfumes poured over her clothes and skin, no caked on make-up either. I was thoroughly impressed at how clean and modest she had looked. This is how I love my woman to look. That's just like the "rose" analogy. Modern aesthetics would suggest we adorn the rose with spangles and plastic wrappers. And that we should dress it up and make it more beautiful. This is clearly the wrong approach because a naked rose is already at the height of its natural beauty. Adorning it would only make it look cheap and unnatural. And lastly, she had the type of eyes a mother would have. What that means exactly I'm not entirely sure, but her pupils were fully dilated and she was well focused on my eyes.
Our whole conversation was in Japanese since she spoke zero English. She handed me two huge bags of cakes and cookies, all hand-made. There were some onlookers and passersby's wondering what the hell was going on. We stayed and talked until closing.
Walking out from the coffee shop the snow really started to fall hard. She kept brushing the snow from my neck and shoulders. Another of the great features of the Jukujo is the attention to detail to everything that's out of place. I was cared for in such a nurturing way. No better love than the Jukujo, so thoughtful and considerate. This was a good Valentines Day.
The rest....well....I don't write fiction.