It's raining again outside.
Since my laundry won't dry, I head to the usual laundromat with heavy steps.
Listening to the rain drumming on my umbrella, I can't suppress the ache deep inside my body that started that day.
At first, it was just a moment of carelessness.
Getting wet in the rain on my way, my blouse clinging damply to my skin, I fell into a deep sleep enveloped by the humming of the dryer—and that was the end of my luck.
Men watching my body, wet and translucent.
Men peeking at my body through the gaps in my loose loungewear.
Devoured as they pleased by those excited men, my pantyhose torn, my underwear stolen...
Sex, being thrust into like crazy while my voice was drowned out by the roar of the dryer.
I should have been defiled, yet now, every time it rains, I can't stop my crotch from becoming damp and hot.
"I wonder if anyone will come today..."
I mutter to myself, so captivated by that damp heat that I even touch my own arousal.
By the time the laundry is dry, I'll return to being the "beautiful me" and blend back into the city.
But inside, I'm still damp and wet with the sensation of those men.
Hey. When it rains again, will you find me here?
