I have a problem that I can't talk to anyone. That is, I can't get a job because I think of Mrs. Miya, the president. During overtime work one day, I was alone with Miya in the company. At the bar I went to drink, I was even more attracted to the unpretentious appearance, and the distance was shortened. Two people who are drowning in pleasure even though they know that it is useless. From that day onward, we will seek each other's bodies ...
