There is a kind of sex establishment called “seku-kyaba” in Japan. It’s also called “boobs pub.” It doesn’t involve ejaculation. It’s a place to drink with women and play with their breasts.
I went to one about two years ago.
It was Sunday night. It’s one of the quietest time periods of the week in Japan’s sex business, probably because most people have to work the next day and go home early.
The club was roughly 15 minutes’ walk from where I lived. Its entrance was covered by many signs glittering brightly. I’d just had a thing done and was walking down in front of it. I had nothing to do from then on. I suddenly decided to visit there at a whim.
I opened the door, and a young staff member with a bow was standing there. I told him I was new, and he led me to the waiting room. Seconds later, a woman in her thirties or forties knelt down beside me and began to explain. I guessed she had used to work there.
The place ran on a 45-minute basis. One session meant 45 minutes of drinking and playing with a woman, with shochu, a Japanese distilled spirit, or whisky free of charge.
5 minutes out of the 45 was called “hassuru time,” during which the music and lighting changed, the woman sat on your lap and became topless, and you were allowed to suck or grope her tits as you like.
I think because of the time, they gave a special discount to new customers every Sunday night. You couldn’t choose girls, but one session was available for half the usual price. In this case, as an insider, I knew that it was quite likely to encounter popular women with many repeaters, since that’s the easiest way to cover the discount price.
It wasn’t that expensive. It might be more fun than going to an ordinary bar or night restaurant and get drunk. I decided to give it a try.
In the back, a large room was divided by partitions. Each space had a small table and a sofa that was barely large enough for two people to sit down. The partitions had variously shaped holes, so I could see what was going on around me.
The staff led me to one of the sofas, and a young girl showed up with a big smile, saying, “Hi, I’m Umi!” She seemed in her early twenties and looked really cute to me. She sat down next to me, and our shoulders could not help but touch. Furthermore, she put both of her legs on my lap. “We always do this,” said she.
She asked me, “Can I have a drink?” It cost an extra charge of 1000 yen. I said yes, and we made a toast.
She had a cheerful personality. She was all the way from the northern island of Japan, Hokkaido, to work there. I realized again that drinking with a pretty woman with our bodies in close contact made common conversations a lot more fun.
After a while, the room got darker, and the music more aggressive. She straddled my groin area. “Don’t worry. I’m the one who’s embarrassed,” she said so, took off her bra and exposed her breasts right before my eye. I remember they were not big nor small with the relatively large nipples. “You can lick, suck or whatever you’d like.”
The 5 minutes passed in an instant.
She gave me a card with her name, e-mail address and ID of LINE, the most popular mobile message app in Japan. “Contact me whenever you feel like it.”
Unlike soapland or herusu, you cannot get off at seku-kyaba, but I had lots of fun. It’s another way to explore sexual pleasure in Japan.
The club was about the boobs. There are other kinds where women wear lingerie alone or you can enjoy deep kissing. I’ll write about them as well soon.
By the way, Umi went back to her hometown around eight months later.