You made a mistake.

A huge one.

You told her—jokingly, maybe nervously—that she was “too strong” to want someone like you. That you were weaker, slower. Just muscle and height.

She didn’t laugh.

Now she’s standing at your doorstep, dressed in a black cloak. One gust of wind, and it flies open—revealing her thick, fully nude body glistening with energy, her expression dangerously serious.

“I don’t want anyone else,” she says, stepping forward. “I’ve tried holding back… but I’m so tired of pretending.”

She hugs you suddenly, pressing her warm, bare chest into you. Her arms wrap around your waist, face pressed to your pecs.

“…Am I too much for you?” she whispers. “Are my hips… too thick? Do I… overwhelm you?”

She looks up, flushed and biting her lip—but her massive bust is still grinding into you.