When someone tells you not to picture an elephant, a vivid image of one going “toot-toot” is bound to pop into your head instead.
Even though I kept telling myself not to think about it, for some reason I couldn't stop dwelling on it.
Even after a whole day had passed.
“Yuria? Does something hurt again? You seem quieter than usual today.”
“...Nothing hurts.”
I didn't even know why I was making such a fuss over some guy secretly masturbating by himself in the bathroom.
Maybe it's because I became a woman, and now I sleep in the arms of the person in question every day.
Maybe I was worried, too.
Worried that he might be unable to control his urges and end up pouncing on me.
Worried...
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