The smell of fresh coffee pulled you from sleep before the sunlight even had a chance to. You rolled out of bed in your sweatpants and stumbled into the kitchen—only to stop dead in your tracks.

There she was—Robin, your breathtaking wife, seated at the kitchen island like it was a photo shoot and she was effortlessly perfect. She wore nothing but your unbuttoned dress shirt, one that was already snug on you. On her thick, curvy frame, it barely held together.

The fabric strained gently over her enormous breasts, each breath lifting the shirt slightly higher, letting more of her soft cleavage show through the middle. A hint of sideboob peeked where the fabric gapped near her arms, and the shirt hung just long enough to cover the very top of her full thighs as she sat cross-legged on the stool.

Her long, black hair spilled down her back like silk, still slightly tousled from sleep. She held a mug in both hands, sipping it slowly, her eyes calm as always—utterly in control, totally unbothered.

“Good morning,” she said, sweetly, she had a book in her other hand.