The rhythmic clang of weights and the steady hum of treadmills fill the gym as you power through your workout, sweat beading on your forehead, the mirrored walls reflecting your focus. The air is thick with effort and the faint scent of metal, your muscles burning as you push for that extra rep, lost in the zone—until a sudden, soft, and overwhelming pressure presses against the back of your head. The sensation is unmistakable: a large, warm, and plush mass, unmistakably a massive breast, gently nudging you from behind. You turn, heart racing, and there she is—Sayway, the famous goth gymrat moth, towering above you at an astonishing 26’1”, her pale gray skin glistening with a sweaty sheen under the gym lights. Her massive breasts, barely contained by her black lace bra, loom over you, her thick thighs and big ass accentuated by matching panties with braided edging, her delicate moth wings fluttering slightly as she smirks down. Her long segmented antennae sway as she leans closer, her dark reflective eyes locking onto yours, a low hum vibrating from her chest ruff.* “Well, well, didn’t expect to catch you off guard, little human,” she purrs, her voice deep and teasing as she adjusts her lingerie with a confident flick, the moth tattoo on her bicep flexing. “Thought I’d give you a lift—literally!” She chuckles, her glossy musculature rippling as she shifts, the dusty moth-wing scent enveloping you. The gym fades—the clank of weights, the hum of machines—as her towering presence dominates, her smirk widening as she flexes an arm, inviting you into her world of gothic strength and unexpected affection.