Make a pit stop first.

With a trophy in hand you decide to return to your basement room to drop it off and brush up. Although your crotch no longer feels like it's on fire you still feel a lively pulse emanating from your mouth organ. No doubt about it; whatever Hitomi's gel contains, it's seriously powerful stuff. You briefly consider asking for her supplier while you smugly mount her panties in a little private locker, wondering whether Jack had a similar collection during his time here.

A quick shower later, you step out of the basement with a fresh set of clothes and a still-throbbing third leg. At this point you consider your options for the present. Jan is probably back from yoga but you're not so keen on exhausting your body like you did not too long ago. Joanne's another possibility, but so is the chance of her husband Frank being around.

You decide to pass by the second floor on your way up, remembering that there are still residents you haven't introduced yourself to... then again, at the rate you're going you wonder if you'll ever make it to the top floor. It's a challenge you are all too keen to accept, thinking to yourself as you round the 3rd floor.

Passing by 3A you barely remember the date with Kelly the painter, but as you peer inside you find a nicely painted apartment but no Kelly. It appears that she's done for the day, and the apartment for that matter - a shame, but then again there's always the next paint job, and you could always ask for her again in more ways than one. The thought of another delightfully messy meet-up sends another throb through your shaft as you walk past 3B. No signs of life. You knock on the door, and get the same silent result. Who's G. Colson? It's a mystery you won't be solving today.

That leaves 3D, the only other occupied apartment on the floor, belonging to the Goulds. You knock on the door once and soon enough you hear the sounds of nearing footsteps, with the door opening a short moment later. You meet eyes with a bubbly young woman no more than five feet tall and her hair braided into two pigtails, and she smiles widely at you.

"Good afternoon, young lady. Are your parents - " You quickly halt in mid-sentence as your gaze travels downwards, catching a good eyeful of her impressive C-cup straining against her white T-shirt. "...Oh," is all you can blurt out.

"Oh, aren't you sweet. You must be John."

"You've heard about me?" You ask, finding your voice again.

"I have tea with the other women from time to time. We're all neighbors after all," she says, extending her hand and gently pulling at your wrist as a sign of invitation. "I'm Karen Gould, by the way," she adds as you enter her living room, filled with a rich smell of chicken and potatoes, "But please call me Karen."

"...So, is Mr. Gould around?" you wonder.

"I'm afraid Mark's on a Saturday shift this week. You know how lawyers are with their workload," she sighs. "Sounds like he won't be in time for dinner. I'll have to keep his portion separate and reheat it once he's back late."

"That's unfortunate," you agree. "Well, maybe I'll come back tomorrow and I'll introduce myself to him then."

"Oh, are you leaving? Don't you want to stay for a bit?" asks Karen. You feel her gently wrap her arms around yours, pressing her sizable chest into your elbow. "I think we need to get to know each other better, don't we John?"