Scum Coercion

After that, when I went home, I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my body with a complicated expression.

That was the version of me I was used to seeing, in my school uniform.

This face is probably pretty good-looking, otherwise he wouldn't be attracted by that person.

But the body is...

I cupped my chest with both hands in distress.

I haven't had such a big one before, and I have to change the size of the underwear again.

It's definitely that man's fault, it's all his fault for pinching and sucking, it's disgusting.

Don't girls like bigger boobs?But I feel that I am far ahead of my peers, and if this continues, it will cause problems.

Sighing, I dragged my tired body and sat down on the bed in frustration.

There are still about ten minutes before dinner, so it's better to do something casually to pass the time now.

I thought for a moment, went to the chair and sat down, then opened the drawer and took out a ball of wool and a pair of needles.

This was the end of my summer vacation, and luckily I didn't have to see that person, so I was a little annoyed... No, I was a little free, so I started looking for something to do, and I chose this one.

I crossed my legs and began to knit a sweater according to the movements and punctuation above with the help of an instruction map.

Because this is my first time doing this, I am actually very unfamiliar, and I am afraid that if I make a mistake in one place, the shape of the sweater will be out of shape.

After confirming the progress a little bit, it seems that only one-tenth of it is completed, that is, the corner of the sweater, but fortunately there is still some time before winter, so just don't worry for now...

Hey wait a minute!

Why should I look like I'm knitting my sweater for someone to wear!This is just me playing around!

After explaining this to myself, I finally calmed down my mind again and continued knitting my sweater.

"Little Mo..."

"Hey hey!!!"

My mother suddenly opened the door and came in. I was so frightened that I almost lost my mind. I quickly opened the drawer and threw all the tools in. Then I lay down on the table and pretended to be reading a book.

"what happened?"

She tilted her head, looking confused.

"It's okay, I'm reading a book."

I tried to speak calmly, but she covered her cheeks with an apologetic expression.

"Ah, um, I'm sorry to disturb you, but the gas went out just now, so the dinner time will be delayed by 30 minutes."

"it does not matter."

I spoke to her calmly, playing the image of a good daughter who doesn't worry her parents.

My mother, who hadn't noticed my predicament at all, smiled as usual.

"Well, then go for it."

After the door closed again, I exhaled and sat down on the table.

My heart is so messed up, I can't make a sweater at all!

I had no choice but to lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling in a daze.

I... Maybe something has changed.

I always feel that something subtly and very dangerous is happening in my body.

No no no!

Then I shook my head in denial like an ostrich out of fear.

"Ah, that's right!"

Sitting up suddenly, I thought of something.

I started walking to my closet, rummaging through the bottom drawer.

If I remember correctly, it should be there...

"Ah here!"

I feel a little exhilaration at finding something I hid.

It was a panty.

There is a blue-purple pattern on it, which looks a little nonsensical, and it is boxer pants.

Of course it's not mine.

I stole it out of revenge when I was forced to go to his house because I happened to find it in his drawer.

In fact, I don't know which muscle I made a mistake during the summer vacation, but when I came back to my senses, I took it home and put it in front of the table. At that time, I was so embarrassed by my underwear. This is really stupid.

Thinking back carefully, it was probably because I was attracted by the texture of the underwear, and I thought it would be good to buy a pair of the same style.

I opened the underwear with both hands, and the image of the owner of the underwear emerged in my heart.