Sex, love, lust

Yun the hostess Yun spent two years in Japan, working as an 'anything goes' hostess until her visa ran out. Her Tokyo stories were pretty wild: once, she entered a Tokyo karaoke box with a dozen Japanese salarymen, stripped, and then sang, while the lads circle-jerked. "Hello," she chirped, "I am Yun. Are you an English teacher?" Yup. "I'm looking for a private English tutor. Can you teach me?" Yup. "Can you meet me tonight to discuss it?" I could not – I had plans.

I asked where she got my number from. She ignored the question and promised to call back in a few days.

She called as promised, and quickly revealed her true intent: "You know, I lied to you. I don't need English lessons. Actually, I am a very bad girl. Do you want to meet me?" Yup.

Asian hair pie

I met her outside a McDonald's in the Chamshil area of Seoul. She was slender, 28, with long silky hair and a slightly weather-beaten face. We went to a jazz bar for drinks. After a couple, I suggested we go back to my place and listen to tunes.

Once in the apartment, I cracked a couple more beers and popped in a Prodigy tape. She got up and started to dance. A few minutes later, she was dancing on the coffee table. I eased back on the sofa and took a swig of my beer.

"Take off your clothes."

She did.

So, I turned up the tunes and then shut the drapes...