I Feel Too Guilty to Let You Go Like This...
I Feel Too Guilty to Let You Go Like This...
The reason I ended up only looking for erotic manga was the result of my sexual preferences getting twisted without me even knowing.
Since puberty, my sexual desire had been exceptionally strong.
On days when I was home alone, I'd live glued to the computer all day, and I'd resort to masturbation several times a day.
At first, just erotic photos were enough.
Just like most boys of that age.
But at some point.
I started obsessively digging into nothing but erotic manga.
Of course, it wasn't that I had absolutely no interest in real women.
I would look when I saw a pretty woman, and I had even liked someone before.
It was just that my sexual desires, specifically, couldn't be satisfied by real women or video content.
If I had to pinpoint a reason, it would be because they were too realistic.
No matter how convincingly they dressed up and acted, in my eyes, they were nothing more than a scripted play.
Forced expressions and exaggerated moans.
Awkward lines and choppy direction.
Even if there was just a tiny detail that bothered me, my immersion would break.
The excitement I had built up would cool down in an instant.
On the other hand, erotic manga was different.
Because it was perfectly suited to satisfy my twisted desires.
Rather than clumsily imitating reality, it was better to just establish from the start that it wasn't real.
The exaggerated figures.
The absurd expressions and lines.
The nonsensical plot developments.
I could accept it all naturally just because it was a manga.
Furthermore, erotic manga didn't have the restriction of a "proper limit."
Extreme and stimulating situations that could never happen in reality.
Desires that were only possible in someone's imagination were natural and not strange within that world.
That was exactly why I fell into erotic manga.
Because everything that reality couldn't even dare to imitate was permitted there.
*
No matter what I tried, the hard drive wouldn't be recognized.
I tried everything I could.
I followed the methods I found on the internet one by one, and I rebooted the computer several times.
Still, it was useless.
"Ha...."
I threw my body back against the chair's backrest.
All that was on the monitor was an empty file explorer window.
If I kept at it like this, I felt like I'd only end up smashing my innocent keyboard.
"Ah, this is driving me crazy."
Still, there must be some way.
Whether I take it to a service center tomorrow or find a professional data recovery company.
It'll cost me some money, but it's data I've collected for years.
I could handle that much.
It'll work out somehow.
No, it had to work out.
"......."
Of course, just thinking that didn't settle my frustrated stomach.
Eventually, I got up from my seat.
If I stayed cooped up in my room like this, I felt like I'd really break something.
I planned to go out for a bit and get some air.
As it happened, there was trash piled up next to the entrance that I'd collected to throw away.
Folded delivery boxes and a bag filled with cans.
Plastic containers I'd rinsed out roughly.
I picked them all up at once.
"Fuck, this is shitty."
I shuffled out of the house, dragging my slippers.
When I slammed the front door shut irritably, a dull thud echoed through the hallway.
Thud.
The sensor light at the end of the hallway turned on a beat late.
I pressed the elevator button while holding the trash in both hands.
A moment later.
Ding.
"......."
The old elevator came up, emitting a loud mechanical noise.
The way the door rattled as it opened, it was clearly an old piece of equipment to anyone who saw it.
Well, this apartment is that kind of place anyway.
A roughly 20-pyeong old apartment that I managed to get by emptying out all the money I'd saved, adding the money my parents chipped in, and even taking out a loan.
It's a bit far from work and looks old, but at twenty-eight, it was a house in my name.
How many people have a house at this age?
I could overlook a rickety elevator.
'..., Ah.'
The moment I stepped into the elevator and went to press the button.
One thing suddenly occurred to me.
'It's the weekend tomorrow, are they even open?'
Of all days, it was Saturday.
"......."
They'll be open, right?
It's not a bank.
Thinking roughly that, I pressed the B1 button.
Because the recycling area was on one side of the underground parking lot.
Ding.
After the door closed.
The elevator began to descend slowly, making a sound like it was scraping old iron plates.
*
As I entered the recycling area, my brow furrowed automatically at the distinct stench of trash.
"Haa...."
Gotta throw this out and leave quickly.
'..., Huh?'
I stepped inside with that thought, but I stopped walking without realizing it.
It was because there was someone there.
Of course, it's not like there's only one or two people living in this apartment, and running into someone in the recycling area isn't strange in itself.
But if it's a young woman.
And if she's wearing clothes that reveal her figure.
Wouldn't the story be a little different?
"......."
The woman was squatting on the floor with her back to me.
Black clothes that clung tightly to her entire body.
It was an outfit commonly called a "milf look."
Perhaps because it was a thin, stretchy material, the soft curves from her back to her waist were fully revealed.
Especially the hip area, that overwhelming sense of volume.
With that bursting, voluptuous volume clearly revealed over the black fabric, my gaze was stolen away without me even realizing it.
Because she was squatting, the flesh of her buttocks, pressed tightly, looked like it would tear through the clothes and pop out at any moment.
I'm a man, too.
That chewy and soft-looking mass of flesh.
It was just a slightly round shape at most, but I ended up staring at it as if possessed.
'..., Get a grip.'
I watched that sight for a moment before forcing my eyes away.
In this day and age, you have to be careful about staring.
I didn't want the headache of being mistaken for a pervert.
'Did a woman like that live in this apartment?'
I've lived here for nearly a year, but I can't know all the residents.
She might have moved in, or maybe I just hadn't seen her by chance.
I put the trash down a couple of steps away from the woman and started sorting the cans and plastics.
"......."
However, my gaze kept drifting to the side.
She was just too damn hot.
'Did her bag burst?'
As I was sneaking glances like that, I could tell why the woman was squatting on the floor.
The side of the standard garbage bag she presumably brought was ripped open long.
Since trash was spilling out through the ripped gap, the woman was struggling to put them back into the bag.
No matter how I looked at it, that wasn't going to solve the problem.
Yet, the woman was holding the ripped part with her hand, not knowing what to do.
'What is she trying to do with that....'
Usually, I would have just walked past.
Was it a shame to just pretend not to notice after seeing that figure?
When I came to my senses, I was already walking toward the woman.
"Excuse me, are you okay?"
"Ah...."
The woman lifted her head.
And for a moment, I forgot how to speak.
I had gotten the impression she was young when I saw her back, but seeing her face, she had just barely passed 20.
But that wasn't the issue.
She was pretty.
She was too pretty, even.
To the point where it felt inadequate to just sum it up by saying she was pretty.
Black hair reaching her waist, white skin, big eyes, a sharp nose, and luscious lips.
Even the alluring tear mole under her eye was perfect.
"......."
I've never seen a woman like this until now?
While living in the same apartment?
"Well..., the bag suddenly ripped."
The woman held up the ripped bag with a troubled face.
"I tried to fix it, but it keeps spilling out."
"Ah, right."
I came to my senses belatedly and lowered my gaze.
'Crazy....'
I couldn't help but be flustered once again.
Because the shape of her breasts was excessively clear over the tight black clothes.
By "clear," I mean it went beyond the level of just showing the outline.
Small protrusions poking out over the fabric.
There's no doubt.
They're nipples.
No matter how I looked at it, those were nipples.
'She's braless?'
I hurriedly shifted my gaze to the ripped bag.
Pretending like nothing was wrong.
As if I hadn't seen anything from the start.
"..., Wait a second. There should be tape over there."
Inside, I was panicking like crazy, but I didn't show it and tried to act nonchalant as I rummaged through the cleaning supply box nearby.
"Ah, here it is."
In the corner of the recycling area, there were cleaning tools and miscellaneous items that seemed to be used by the security guard.
There's no way there wouldn't be a roll of packing tape.
"Could you hold that part?"
"Yes, yes."
I brought the tape and wrapped the ripped part a few times. Holding the bag with one hand and wrapping it firmly with the other, the gap that had opened was blocked well enough.
"This should hold it."
"Wow, thank you."
The woman smiled brightly and bowed her head.
Jiggle, jiggle.
My gaze was about to be helplessly drawn in again.
Because there was no bra to hold her breasts, the flesh spilled downward due to gravity, jiggling in large circles.
I barely managed to turn my head to the side.
"It's nothing. It wasn't a big deal."
My voice had stiffened a bit.
Fortunately, it seemed the woman hadn't noticed.
No, she seemed to not care about her attire at all from the start.
"No, what do you mean it's nothing? I was in trouble because the bag suddenly ripped. Haa..., I'm so relieved."
The woman let out a sigh of relief and looked down at the taped bag.
Then, she hesitated for a moment before carefully opening her mouth.
"Um...."
"Yes?"
Then, as if choosing her words, she bit her luscious lips, and soon, as if she had made up her mind, she looked straight up at my face and whispered.
"If it's alright with you, I'd like to give you some kind of reward."
"A reward? I just helped you out."
"Still. I'd feel too guilty letting you go just like this.... Um, it would only take a moment, do you have some time?"
The woman glanced around.
The inside of the recycling area was still quiet, and no other residents were in sight.
In a space where human presence was cut off because it was already late, she lowered her voice a little more and stepped one step closer to me.
'..., What is this.'
The sweet scent of skin wafting over.
"It's a bit awkward here..., shall we go over there?"
As soon as she finished speaking, the woman's slender fingers lightly wrapped around my wrist.
"..., Huh?"
I was flustered and tried to pull my wrist away, but her strength was stronger than I thought.
On top of that, as she linked her arm with mine, my arm became buried as if crushed between her voluptuous breasts.
"Follow me."
"Hey, what is this...."
Uh, uh.
I could only make stupid noises as I was dragged along.
It couldn't be helped.
Such a pretty woman was pressing her braless breasts against my forearm and hurrying her steps; if I had any reason left to shake that off, that would have been stranger.
Every time the soft elasticity of her breasts rubbed against my arm through the thin fabric, my mind went hazy.
"..., W-wait a second."
Me, walking along honestly while trying to stop her with my mouth.
I felt ridiculous, but my legs were already out of my brain's control.
"Hurry."
The place the woman took me to was behind the recycling area, a dark corner where the fluorescent light didn't reach well.
'What is this? What is this situation?'
A warning sound rang in my head.
A reward for just putting on some tape?
And what's with suddenly clinging to me?
Even for a guy with a head full of flowers, this was a situation where you'd be suspicious from the start.
Logically, it was a situation where I should have suspected a setup crime or a honey trap and run away without looking back.
But I just repeated stupid, idiotic words.
"Um, I'm really okay...."
"Shh, be quiet."
The woman looked back and put her index finger to her lips.
Is it my imagination that her eyes seem exceptionally moist and shining even in that darkness?
"Let's go further inside. It'd be embarrassing if someone else caught us...."
There was a strange heat mixed into her whispering voice.
'What, what. What the hell is this.'
I swallowed dryly to hide the sound of my pounding heart.