[ She stands there in apprehension, tense, waiting for feet to thump after her, a blast of force to strain at the hinges of the door.
However, nothing like that comes close to happening. The only thing she's met with is the open and close of Aki's bedroom. "Fooled ya," the silence seems to mock her with, which is as relieving a realization as it is vexing. Slipping down from the door, her fight-or-flight instincts wisping off her like a blown candle, her rear hits the ground. She stays like that, staring into the distance in a daze.
Aki's boobs…
Her breasts roll around in her hands as she squeezes herself, thoughtfully. The same amount of thought someone would use to weigh produce at the grocery market. Denji touches her chest all the time, and contrary to popular belief, it's not always a masturbatory activity for her. She'll do it alone while taking a dump, when she's sharing the bed with Power and has an itch, or even at the dinner table — and, obviously, since she has a vivid reference to compare herself with, she has even more reason to now.
When she first arrived at Aki's apartment, her chest was nearly level with her stomach. Groping herself felt no different from smoothing a hand over the floor beneath her feet. It still felt good, but she wonders if she's closer now to what she wants…
She's still not sure. Her chest feels fuller, though.
Her expression flattens at the sound of Aki's call, ruining her reflection. Denji doesn't bother propping to the door to say back: ]
…No, I don't wanna. I don't hang out with scam artists…
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However, nothing like that comes close to happening. The only thing she's met with is the open and close of Aki's bedroom. "Fooled ya," the silence seems to mock her with, which is as relieving a realization as it is vexing. Slipping down from the door, her fight-or-flight instincts wisping off her like a blown candle, her rear hits the ground. She stays like that, staring into the distance in a daze.
Aki's boobs…
Her breasts roll around in her hands as she squeezes herself, thoughtfully. The same amount of thought someone would use to weigh produce at the grocery market. Denji touches her chest all the time, and contrary to popular belief, it's not always a masturbatory activity for her. She'll do it alone while taking a dump, when she's sharing the bed with Power and has an itch, or even at the dinner table — and, obviously, since she has a vivid reference to compare herself with, she has even more reason to now.
When she first arrived at Aki's apartment, her chest was nearly level with her stomach. Groping herself felt no different from smoothing a hand over the floor beneath her feet. It still felt good, but she wonders if she's closer now to what she wants…
She's still not sure. Her chest feels fuller, though.
Her expression flattens at the sound of Aki's call, ruining her reflection. Denji doesn't bother propping to the door to say back: ]
…No, I don't wanna. I don't hang out with scam artists…