An Indonesian Love Story by an American Man Part III

Part III, continuing the last chapter Coming to Indonesia.

A reminder that the naughty parts have been left out and you must buy the book to read them.

Thanks again for the kind words and compliments I have gotten.


A group of Muslim students at the school became very interested to know me, wanting to hear more about America and Americans. They invited me to one of their homes, to break the fast during Ramadan. Several invited me to family weddings. One of them was interested in being with me, but I said no since she was my student. Several of them kept introducing me to their friends. Their mothers and grandmothers also wanted to introduce to unmarried friends, daughters, granddaughters, and nieces. And even many older women in the streets and malls, who I had never met before, kept introducing me to their daughters, nieces, or unmarried younger friends.


The same group of students asked me to come speak at a gathering. They were part of a group welcoming new students. The meeting was to try and introduce new students away from home for the first time, get them to feel less lonely and isolated. All the students were in the English program, so it was agreed they would be practicing their Bahasa Inggris. The student leaders wanted a topic everyone would be interested in, so they chose love. These students were all very interested in how Americans thought differently from Indonesians about love, sex, and marriage.

“I think there are several important differences,” I said. “For most American men, it is not important to marry a virgin. Only the very old fashioned and religious care about that, and they are perhaps one out of five Americans. For most Indonesians, the first time having sex is on their wedding night. For an American, most have sex for the first time at about age sixteen or so.”

“Oh my God…” said a young girl in a jilbab, in surprise.

“Much, much better…” laughed a young man next to her. Several male friends laughed and agreed. Several girls next to them looked upset.

“The other big difference is kissing,” I said. “For Indonesians, being a virgin means no kissing on the lips before marriage. That would be very, very unusual for an American. Most Americans have their first kiss very young, perhaps at twelve or even younger. Small children even play kissing games, and that is when many Americans have their first kiss. There is a game at children’s parties called Spin the Bottle. Everyone sits in a circle, first a boy, then girl, then a boy, then a girl, and so on. Each person spins the bottle. Whoever it points to, the boy and girl must kiss.”

Some of the girls really liked this and smiled as I described it. But other girls were upset. “Can’t you say no?” said one. “Can’t you decide who you are going to kiss?” asked another, her voice rising.

“No, that breaks the rules of the game. That’s what makes it fun,” I said. I could see some of the young men were already planning to try and play that game at the next party or gathering they had.

“Pak, sir, what can a man do to become close to a woman?” asked one young man. I had the feeling he really did not know and was hoping to learn. The things I told him seemed a surprise to him.

“The most important thing to a woman is to listen to her, try to understand her and get to know her. Listen more than talk.”

The same student who was interested in me smiled when I said this. She crosser her arms and held herself, pushing her breasts together. It looked like she had a very warm feeling inside. Over the coming next several weeks she became even more interested in me. I had to tell her no several more times.

I gave the students some more advice, some so obvious I wondered how they never heard it before. Women love flowers. Women love poetry and romantic films. Women love chocolate and other sweets and small gifts of many kinds. Women like to laugh, and like men who try to make them laugh. Women like romantic music, and trying to sing to them works even if your voice is terrible. Women can be romanced if you try to dance with them. Women want, above all, to feel safe and loved, and will give themselves completely to a man who can make them feel that.


I could see the faces of the young men, each thinking to themselves how to use this advice. I could also see on the faces of the young women their imagining how they would respond. Some girls smiled warmly at each piece of advice. More than a few of them tried to speak to me in the coming weeks, to get to know me and be with me.


The last advice I said, dancing, made both the young men and women a little nervous. Indonesia was not a nation where most people danced, except for the older traditional dances. That’s part of why Bollywood films were so popular here. Indians in these films seemed to break into a dance for any reason or no reason at all, very different from Indonesians who were mostly too shy for that. One of my favorite things was to try and dance with any woman who came to my home. Their hearts would melt quickly. Most of them had never had a man try to dance with them before.


Shakira was also a very popular artist here. Indonesians loved that she was so free and confident in her sexiness. I liked playing Latin music when trying to dance with women at my home. It gave me the chance to get close to them, to bump and grind, move my hips against them. I don’t think most of the men they knew before me had ever done anything like that with them.




Sometimes it was just too easy. Lovely women were all around me, and none of them had met someone like me before.


My home in Indonesia was a big house, two stories, with a large living room and bedrooms I didn’t need. It cost less than my apartment in America. There was a balcony on the second floor with a beautiful view of the city. Most of the girls who came there had never been in a home with such privacy. All of them were used to smaller houses with many people in them, big families and sometimes servants.


I came to Indonesia hoping for sex with many lovely women. Instead I found love, found it several times with each woman more wonderful and amazing than the last. I was not expecting that at all. I was not prepared to have my heart ache, my stomach twisted, and my mind flooded with worry over what I did. Sometimes the pain is so great, I can feel my bones themselves ache and cry.


Indonesian women came to me hoping for love and marriage with a tall foreigner. Many of them did not expect sex and often were surprised to find themselves losing their virginity to me. Some of them did expect and even hope for sex. But none of us were expecting all the guilt and pain I caused.

God is cruel because he uses your own weaknesses to teach you a lesson. God has a cruel sense of humor and is always watching.


An American Man is the pen name of the author of An Indonesian Love Story by an American Man, the true story of a westerner’s love and experiences with Indonesian women, a romance and love poem to the people and land of Indonesia.

Available at

Also available: Indonesian Women, Western Men: A Guide to Love, Romance, and Sex

This post is crossposted at my Author’s Blog at and my Facebook page at!/pages/Indonesian-Love-Story/186217388093423

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