« I’m the invisible man, I’m the invisible man
Incredible how you can see right through me, »
sang Freddy Mercury in 1989 on Queen’s album The Miracle; obviously not their best, but on it there was « I want it all », and that song made our teeny weenies hard in our teeny underpants with our name written on them so they wouldn’t get lost during fieldtrip. The great thing was also that “I want it all” played after “The Miracle” and before “The Invisible Man”. Roughly, a miracle is about to happen: I’m going to fuck all the girls in the class, but since I’m shy, I’d rather be an invisible man. Believe it or not, this story is true, with a bad-faith rate of only 23% – an exploit.
At the time, we all wanted to be invisible and get inside the girls’ panties. Even now, although we all know what’s happening down there, basically, we still often dream of standing behind your back to peek into your DMs. Then take it out on all those stalking foxes by printing thousands of mental twitpics of you under the shower. The idea isn’t dishonest or revolting, just some spying and mischief with impunity, but how? The basic Westerner will tell you it’s impossible to be invisible, even if experimentations are under way with metamaterials. The Japanese will advise the greenhorn you are to shut the fuck up and fork out 41 bucks on the table – 40 for the Morphsuit and one for the energy-drink. Easy. It knocks you on your ass, but it’s the story told by old man Satushi, aka the sensei of puns, peeking on his homegirls and sticking his little penis inside their mouth, without anyone noticing. That jerk makes me lol.
The scene takes place some six thousand miles from Paris, in the land of the rising sun, the kingdom of tag 34, the favorite cyber-destination of our 15-18 year-old friends, the paradise of porno niches, the treasure island of the perfect tag. Satushi, our faithful companion in the Jap game, strolls quietly in the streets, when he suddenly feels very thirsty, which seems quite natural given how blazingly hot Tokyo is in the summer – any Japanese hairdresser will tell you so. Satushi is a little taken aback by the name of the drink, but he is a loyal employee, he trusts his line management and respects authority like the good soldier he will never be. Filthy war… Yes, sometimes Satushi is a little nostalgic; I know him well, his heart is soft and noble but a paralyzing shyness prevents him from approaching the opposite sex. Yet he is an arrant masturbator! From childhood he has always dreamed himself as a lecherous tentacle. In short, the good Satushi drinks the mysterious beverage and becomes invisible – this is called an ellipse, and in the porn entertainment business you better make it short if you don’t want to bug the truck driver.
Our pal becomes invisible… that is… he puts on his white Morphsuit, to be precise. At first he’s like “no, wait, something’s wrong”, and he goes out to find some girls: auto show, elevator, public baths, water closets. He walks before them, pokes them, tickles and downright annoys them, but it’s no use: they don’t suspect anything. Yes, Satushi! You ARE invisible! Enjoy the miracle, check out as much pussy, tits and ass as you can! Yyyyyeeeeesssssss Satushi, the world is yours! You can fulfill all (y)our fantasies, go, dear friend! Run and explore the wide world! No need to tell him twice. Our pal ogles, touches, paws, and the ladies let him go with it, though a little ill-at-ease – having your boob move by itself is not a common experience. Slow and steady, Satushi, I see your taking confidence. You have fun, you play to the gallery, nobody notices you. You are the slanting-eyed Poltergeist and soon the temptation is too strong: you stick out your diddly. You little devil you.
You still invisible? But can you really… if no one sees your jimmy? You always have this rape thing on your mind, a fantasy so dear to the Japanese street culture, and since those girls can’t see you… Action? #facefucking in good taste, #squirting for the sake of tradition, and #cumshot for the homies. Under the grinning look of the bystanders and the rather stunned gaze of the girls who watch their slightly disgusted girlfriend Megumi perform an air-blowjob, before getting shagged and banged all over, propped up by invisible threads (your Morphsuited buddies, because you’re also willing to share: your heart is so big under your slinky-suit). The sperm dripping from her eyelid doesn’t seem to move anybody. Damn individualistic society! You are all alone in your imaginary rape Megumi. I’ll lend you my shoulder to cry on, but please be a good girl and take a shower first. And please stop whining, the Western man is getting weary.
The Invisible Man, one of the thousand sites of the Adult Empire nebula, is kindly jerking us around, but that doesn’t prevent the chubby from pointing in our pants. You gently sail between WTF and Tag 34, turn your nose up at the non-believers and pelt the genitals with fat pixels. Because that is their thing: extreme porn, but censored. Like a root beer without alcohol, a big cake with APM, or ham someone skimmed the fat from. The advantage of Adult Empire is that a subscription gives you access to all their micro-sites, from the Japanese invisible man to hard-core fetishism and things I didn’t even get the purpose of, not forgetting their 90s frenzy about 3D sex. Come hell or high water, you get your share.
After this slightly shameful whack-off, I’m still puzzled by Japanese sexuality, but I’ll leave that debate to stupid tight-ass pseudo-sexology sites. We don’t want to know why, how, or what sociological meaning could be granted to the invisible man. We’d rather let Satushi and his friends believe they won’t ever get burned, with their white superhero suits and their nosy willies. And we believe it too: with our ever-living children’s hearts, we saw they really were invisible. How we would have loved to be like them!