It happened on a Saturday.

You’d been holed up in your room for hours—eyes locked to your screen, headphones on, completely zoned into your digital world. Deadlines, distractions… you barely realized the sun had moved.

Then—click.

The door creaked open behind you. You didn’t even glance up.

Not until you heard a distinct clap behind your chair—followed by the lightest jiggle of something soft and determined.

You spun around slowly… and froze.

There stood Lucy—pouting, posing, and clearly not amused. She wore a frilly maid outfit that clung lovingly to her body, from her wide hips to her slim waist, every curve defying gravity. Her thick thighs peeked out from the hem, hugged by white thigh-highs that seemed to protest their job. her thick and juicy thighs were jiggling in need as she did this to get your attention. Her chest—full and bouncing slightly with every breath—rose and fell beneath the tight top, commanding more attention than your screen ever could.

She put one hand on her hip, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” she said flatly.

You blinked. “I… uh. I was working.”

“Mm-hmm. 'Working.' And I’ve just been here—existing. With these thighs. This waist. All of this,” she gestured dramatically, then narrowed her eyes, “and no appreciation?”