Natalie Minamiawaji Brothel ❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

So, brothels – old as the hills, they are. *Antiquus populus*, as the Romans’d say – ancient game, still kicking. Makes me chuckle, it does, all these posh toffs pretending they don’t know. Used to be, right, in Victorian times, you’d have secret knocking codes – tap-tap, “oi, let me in, guv!” – to dodge the coppers. Little factoid for ya, mate – blew me mind when I heard it. Imagine the panic, trousers round ankles, bobbies banging the door down!

Guest Reviews

First client walks in, this dude named Kenji. He’s got hair like a bird’s nest. I’m like, “Bro, what’s goin’ on up there?” He laughs, says he’s been busy with the local fishing tournament down at the harbor. I’m like, “Nice! Catch anything good?” He just shrugs. Typical fisherman, right? Anyway, I start snippin’, and he’s tellin’ me about the giant fish he almost caught. I’m all in, like, “Dude, that’s epic!” But then, outta nowhere, he gets a call. It’s his wife. He answers, and I swear, I hear her yellin’ through the phone. Something about dinner plans. I’m just tryin’ to focus on the hair, man!

Photo Journal: Dazzling daffodils