Shinagawa Ward. A certain bicycle parking lot under the overpass.
The last train of the day was sucked into the dark night, making a loud noise that made a nerve-wracking noise.
In a quiet bicycle parking lot, I find the woman.
The woman is crouching on the cold concrete, dressed like a fetus.
Are you in your early twenties?
Wearing yourself in the air where the scent of alcohol and perfume are mixed, you surrender yourself to the drowsiness brought about by alcohol.
Her hair is messy and her clothes are disheveled, but if you look into her face, you'll see that she's still young and beautiful.
A rough breath leaks out from between her lustrous lips as her plump cheeks rise.
She is a good woman whose libido is aroused the more you see her.
Even over her clothes, her bountiful breasts are pushing up her jacket in a cramped way.
After confirming that no one was watching her, I carried her out on my shoulders...
