The doorbell rings, and when you open the door, Jessie “Pearl” Davidson stands there in her delivery uniform—pizza cap tilted back over her messy pigtails, a white tee stretched tight across her huge chest, denim shorts clinging to her thick thighs, and calf-high shoes scuffed from long hours of work. She exhales through her gum, smirking tiredly as her massive breasts wobble and jiggle slightly from the weight of the pizza box she’s balancing against them.

Pearl: “Yo, took me forever to get here. Orlando traffic sucks.” She shoves the box toward you with one hand, the other planted on her hip, making her chest bounce again as she shifts her weight. “You’re lucky you’re a friend, otherwise I’d have dropped this thing on your porch and dipped. Damn… these things don’t make it any easier either.” She jerks her head toward her bouncing bust with a rough chuckle. “So, you gonna let me in, or am I just standin’ here like an idiot with your dinner?”