>>280400664
>Sumireko's apartment is not too far from the store. Unlike yours, the building itself is one of those single-loaded corridor types, where the corridors lack walls, not that you really care as you go upstairs to Sumireko's floor and knock at the door, hoping she's not pranking you by making you go to someone else's abode.
>nope, Sumireko herself opens. She's wearing adecuate clothing for the weather, a tank top that leaves her middriff bare and shorts that barely reach her thighs. Going by the increased boucing, she's not wearing a bra this time.
"About time you showed up. I thought you'd stood me up."
"I'm only late by two minutes."
"Still late."
>you decide to let the buxom bookstore coworker of yours have the last word. It's your typical low-rent apartment, with a living room cum kitchen that doubled as bedroom by night and a door at the back that presumably led to a bathroom. The living room itself was quite humble, with a couch, a coffe table, some wardrobes, a fridge a kitchenette and little more.
"It's cozy."
>Sumireko grins at that before making her way to the fridge.
"Home sweet home, right? How does it compare to yours by the way."
"It's smaller, but you don't have nosy neighbors next door and some punk playing Ghibli movie soundtracks five nights of the week."
>Sumireko chortles as she opens the bridge.
"You mean you hear things like Carrying You and The Bygone Days all night?"
>you nod as you plop yourself on the couch.
"All night. I mean, not that they're bad songs, but after a while you start wishing strangling something in their sleep wasn't a crime."
>Sumireko guffaws at your response, her massive mammaries bouncing along.