Aria Akashi Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

Dunno, tho, something ‘bout it’s raw honesty gets me. No masks, just flesh and coin. Beats courtly lies any day. Still, the filth – ugh, the crusty sheets, the fake moans. Makes my skin crawl. “I choose violence” when some lordling brags he owns ‘em. You don’t own wildfire, fool, it burns ya back.

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The dense networks created by Japanese brothel owners and their auxiliaries created an organizational model and a ready-made infrastructure.

So, I’m typing away, and my phone buzzes. It’s my friend Yuki. She’s like, “Let’s grab some Akashi-yaki later!” I’m like, “Heck yes!” Akashi-yaki is life. It’s like takoyaki but with a twist. So fluffy, so good. But first, I gotta survive this workday.

Take a Look Around Akashi, an Underground Omakase Counter in the West Village