Curled lips, little girl manga

He sat opposite me, reading one of those lolita porn mangas. Polyester trousers slightly too short and far too carefully creased. Receding hairline and a shiny forehead, with two beads of excited sweat. His thick glasses kept slipping down his wet nose, to be pushed back up by pudgy sausage fingers, his palms, I could easily imagine, were clammy damp. He was holding the manga up in front of him, his elbows at 90 degrees and he hadn't put the usual book cover on it to disguise what he was reading, probably far too excited to do so. A young, not unattractive couple next to him giggled quietly, and a middle aged woman on the other side grimaced to herself, involuntarily. You could tell she wanted to stand up, but didn't want to draw attention to herself.
The otaku didn't notice. He was happy in his fantasy world of little girls with too big eyes and impossible breasts that demanded squeezing by the old man "hero" every second page. Oh yes, he was in heaven.