Hentai. A Love Story.

Perfection is what she is, captured in paint.

I saw her at Best Buy. Unlike her garishly dolled-up colleagues, amongst those separate DVD covers I knew even then was not her place, she was rich with the presence of untarnished nobility. It was not the azure eyes, larger than dinner plates, the cotton candy pink of her glossy mane, or the waist that looked vulnerable to snapping in the softest of breezes; these were mere candies that studded the beauty that was her character.

That fine figure! Standing before a beast that boasted many tentacles, an abomination of a wretched tryst between a squid and a bear, with some shark thrown in for good measure. Even I, a man with a great strength of arms with his quality collection of ten swords, would have quaked before such a beast, but she! How she stood her ground, even in her skimp of a pleated skirt and leather bra.

I took her away, with the most elaborate of dowries.

I spent an entire 19.99 for

her DVD.

I was not yet aware of her many riches when I initially brought her down to my mother's basement. At the time, I was simply consumed by superficiality. My robust finger traced the schoolgirl thinness of her legs, which stood in stark contrast to the ample bust that threatened to runneth over. Though my sweatpants grew tight with lust, I knew Mommy would soon call me to dinner. I could not risk consummation, at least not then. I was so nervous. Fumbling with the DVD player on my laptop with one hand, I held my cherry blossom warrior in the other. When she slid with great unearthly grace into the player, thus began the viewing experience that would shape my love life into what it is today.

The poorly translated English subtitles could not conceal the intricate patterns of her Japanese, dappling like sunlight on the currents of the ocean. She dominated every scene she was in, despite the supporting roles of her equally sumptous fellow demon hunters. That posture never swayed, even when she went to war with the Demon King, the aforementioned atrocity. That posture never swayed, even when the Demon King had her in his grasp. How my eyes filled with tears in admiration of her bravery, as the Demon King filled each of her orifices with his sopping tentacles. She would not betray her pain or pleasure, only letting out the tiniest of gasps. No amount of degradation could break her. Only then did I know that I had found my soul mate.

I try to find her, still. Scouring the Internet, for it is vast and wide, and contains anything and anyone. Sometimes, I think I find her in some of the women I find on Adult Friend Finder. With many a plane ticket paid for comes many a disappointment, though. They look nothing like the pictures they have on their profiles, even sometimes being a good hundred pounds heavier than I originally perceived. Alas. I still sigh and plunk the pink wig I bought on Ebay on them. It is not infidelity, as long as I keep my eyes closed and the DVD playing in the background.

She understands.



Oh, God, she has to.