PSIA-WMAF

"Good to see you, Demian-san!" the strange cosplayer approached, her heels clicking on the pavement and her hips swaying exaggeratedly with each step.

"Citizens. Our dear guest needs to fill out a few paperwork," she nodded to the two hot MILFs, her tone less welcoming and more stern. She pulled out some kind of badge, which caused the two MILFs to pause in their indignation and deflate like a used condom. "You may leave."

Before the two thicc MILFs left, Demian released his arms and grabbed the women by the sides, pulling them toward him. Then he deepened the embrace, grabbing their enormous milkers.

With a massive breast in each hand, Demian continued.

"Didn't all my documents get checked upon arrival?"

The Japanese woman in uniform briefly stared at the foreigner's hands groping Japanese breasts and bit her lip before shaking her head and looking at his face.

"There was a small error. The senior flight attendant was supposed to notify all foreigners to register for the WMAF list, but you were so confident in your actions that the senior flight attendant decided that this was not your first time in the country. And then a complaint was filed against you and I had to come here personally and investigate it."

"Wasn't this the slant-eyed bitch who sucked me off the entire flight?"

"Yes, exactly," the uniformed Japanese woman smiled, ignoring the racial slur. "Therefore, to avoid problems with our internal security, we would like to invite you to check in."

"What's this list anyway?" the guy identified the firmer breast of the two MILFs and, discarding the less attractive one, pulled the winner into his arms to focus his attention on her. "And what's with the complaints?"

"I'm an officer with PSIA-WMAF, which stands for the Public Security Intelligence Agency, the White Male/Asian Female Relationship Monitoring Unit. Regarding the complaints..." A bored and slightly disdainful tone crept into her voice. "Several ordinary Japanese male citizens have a filed complaint about your indecent behavior and harassment, and since your information was not found, we are **** to respond. If you had registered, we would have ignored it."

"I didn't touch the men."

"They're just jealous," said the second MILF, unfazed. Despite Demian choosing her bustier friend, she didn't take offense and pressed herself against his side, pressing her breasts into his embrace.

"To avoid further scrutiny and facilitate your smooth cultural integration, I am obligated to conduct a brief background check and verify your information and documents."

"Understood." Demian turned the MILF around in his arms, lifting her top and ripping off her bra so he could play with her naked breasts.

Until now, the government official, or simply the local fetishist pervert, hadn't paid any attention to his actions, and the two Japanese MILFs continued to smile under his caresses.

"I'm glad you're studying Japanese culture and are generous with your attention, but let's get down to business, Mr. Griefer-san." The smile on the young Japanese woman's face was less bright and noticeably strained.

Demian finally understood the reason for the displeasure.

She was envious, though she hid it behind a professional government employee's smile and traditional Japanese politeness.

"Okay, give me a second to say goodbye." The guy released MILF-Big-Milkers and hugged MILF-Big-Ass, beginning to knead her ass in her dress.

His fingers pressed firmly into her flesh, and the thin dress didn't hinder the feeling of the firmness and softness of her well-made backside.

Having listened to her languid sighs and moans, Demian turned to MILF, who still hadn't lowered her sweater, displaying her breasts to him in all their nakedness.

"Keep my trophies, maybe I'll visit you." Demian hadn't forgotten the pile of lingerie and numbers he'd managed to collect while sightseeing. It would be sad to lose such memorable souvenirs, even if he hadn't intended to use these Japanese whores.

Releasing the big-assed MILF, the guy turned her around and gave her buttocks a farewell slap so that she has a pleasant memory of him.

"Free." he said, turning to a beaming employee of some WMAF organization. "Lead the way."

This trip had already confirmed some of Demian's thoughts about the behavior of Japanese women, but a government organization with the tag (WMAF), denoting interracial Asian-White porn, in its name was something new.