A married woman I met at the garbage area on the first floor of an apartment building. She stood there in casual clothes, her breasts, nipples, and a glimpse of her panties barely concealed beneath a sheer, translucent fabric. Her movements seemed deliberately provocative, as if flaunting herself on purpose. Was she hiding from someone? Or was this just a coincidence? Deep down, an urge began to stir—take advantage of her.