Erotimaniac

Emiko Takahashi – it was a very specific name. Surrounding the name with

quotation marks and searching through Google, the name yielded over

twelve-thousand results. Authors, singers, and everyday people filled the

results. Obviously, due to the nature of the name, most of the people resided

in Japan. Google couldn't reveal the waitress' identity.

Ethan sat at his desk in his bedroom, wearing only his gray boxer briefs.

He logged into his Facebook account. His other friends, who he did not

personally know, were insignificant. He searched: Emiko Takahashi. He

slowly scrolled through the results, but he didn't find his secret lover. So, he

refined his search and sorted his results by city.

To his dismay, Emiko did not show up.

He murmured, "Everyone has a Facebook account these days. Where are

you hiding, Emiko?"

He leaned back in his seat and thought about their first encounter. He

remembered every detail, too. An idea materialized – a bulb illuminated

above his head.

He said, "Emmy."

He typed: Emmy Takahashi. Then, he limited his search to his city. Lo

and behold, he found her at the top of the search results. His fingers

trembled as he reached for the mouse. A twisted grin, devious and

malevolent, formed on his face. The side of his mouth twitched with

excitement, too. He clicked on her name, then he examined every detail of

her profile.

Eyes wide with hope, Ethan stuttered, "Sh–She... She's not in a

relationship." He leaned back, stared at the ceiling, and yelled, "She doesn't

have a boyfriend! She's on the market! She's the one! Holy shit! She's the

one!"

Trying to contain his excitement, he turned his attention back to the

monitor. He scrolled through her posts.

Verbatim, one post read: I can't sleep. I have class in the morning, then

work, but I can't sleep!! No!(´;ω; ‵ ).

Upon spotting the emoji at the end of the post, Ethan smiled and said,

"That's cute, Emiko. It's so damn cute."

He scrolled down, then he stopped at another post.

The post read: I love all of my friends, I really do. Thank you for your

help. I miss home, though. I miss mom and dad... They miss me too and it

hurts.

The post brought a tear to Ethan's eye.

Ethan sniffled and said, "I know how you feel, darling. It's hard, isn't it?

It's terrible, right? That feeling... That feeling that you're all alone. I don't

live in a different country, my family is nearby, but I still feel homesick,

you know? You're lucky, though. At least they like you, Emiko. I don't want

you to worry about that anyway. You'll always have me."

The author scrolled through her posts. He laughed and cried as he shared

her life. He memorized the most insignificant memories – things she

probably forgot. Again, he stopped on a picture. It was a picture of food, of

course. However, the picture linked to Instagram. One thing led to another –

that's how things worked.

He opened her Instagram page in a new window and found a trove of

pictures. He opened her photo gallery on Facebook, too. He placed the

windows side-by-side and searched through her pictures. The images

mostly depicted her schoolwork, her dogs in Japan, and food. There were a

few pictures of herself, though – simple selfies, outfit-of-the-day collages,

and bikini shots.

He loudly swallowed as he leered at her bikini photos. On Instagram, he

opened a picture of Emiko in a red, white, and blue bikini. Her chiseled

face, slim figure, and perky breasts were perfect to him. On Facebook, he

opened a picture of the waitress in a beautiful kimono in Japan. The

pictures were different – one traditional, the other carefree – but he was

equally aroused by both.

Drenched in sweat, he dropped his boxers and vigorously masturbated. A

squelching sound echoed over his moans as he tugged as quickly as

possible. He wasn't a professional bodybuilder, but the man had more

stamina than a crack addict. When he wasn't having sex, he spent hours of

his day masturbating. His forearms wouldn't be sore for at least an hour.

That didn't mean he wouldn't prematurely ejaculate, though.

Before he could climax, Ethan stopped and held his hands up – as if the

police had caught him red-handed. He didn't want to finish. He closed his eyes and performed complex mathematics in his mind to calm his nerves.

He was still aroused, but he wouldn't finish early. He took a deep breath and

shook his head.

He said, "No, no, no. This is... This is wrong. I can do better for you,

princess. You deserve more than... than this. Just give me a minute, okay?"

He scrolled through Emiko's pictures, searching for the perfect image.

He stopped upon spotting a picture of the waitress at a beach in Japan. The

image only depicted her chest and her head. Her breasts were squeezed

together, making them appear larger than usual. However, he was more

aroused by her smile – a naughty smirk.

Tears of joy clinging to his eyelids, he whispered, "You're so beautiful.

I... I don't know what else to say, but... this is the one. It's amazing."

He wiped the tears from his eyes as he downloaded the picture from her

Facebook account, then he printed it out at the highest quality possible. He

moved his keyboard and mouse aside, then he placed the printed picture at

the center of his desk. His legs wobbled as he stood from his seat. His

excitement was difficult to contain.

Towering over the picture, he continued to masturbate. From above, his

penis appeared puny – a bad angle. It didn't bother him, though. He was

solely focused on Emiko's beauty. He stared at her lips, then he gazed into

her eyes. He wasn't looking at an actual person, but he felt a connection to

her – magic. The magic only made him tug faster.

His dick throbbing in his hand, his body convulsed as he ejaculated on

the picture – a cum tribute, the first sign of love. His semen splattered on

her face and chest, thick and slimy.

Out of breath, he murmured, "Oh, God. That was... That was too good."

He fell into his seat and sighed. He wasn't a virgin, obviously, but

masturbating to Emiko felt better than any sex he ever had before. It

certainly felt better than sex with Karen. Love – true love – made

everything feel better.

Nude and proud, Ethan returned his attention to Emiko's Facebook page.

From her profile information, he could see she attended a community

college near the diner. He occasionally prowled the campus to capture

candid videos of students' asses on his cellphone. He just tapped record,

then he held his phone under his belt with the lens aiming at the ass he

wanted to capture – no one ever suspected a thing.

He stared at a selfie of Emiko at a bus stop. The image caught his

attention.

As he analyzed every detail of the picture, Ethan said, "I know that

place. I know that bus stop. I can meet you there if you want." He nodded

as he stared at the picture, as if he were listening to someone. He said, "No,

no. I don't mind waiting all day, Emiko. I'll give you a ride after school.

Anything you want, okay? Anything."

He downloaded another picture of Emiko. She smiled as she sat on a

bench at her school. Her smile was heartwarming, gentle and reassuring. He

taped the printout above his bookshelf, then he hopped into his bed. He had

the perfect view of the love of his life. He cuddled with his pillow and

stared at the photo, imagining himself with Emiko.

With a beautiful woman watching over him, Ethan fell asleep in comfort.