Of course Mia was understandably frantic already, what with her protege Phoenix being killed the night before, and now her being framed for his murder, but Mia Fey was even more concerned with her attire right now. She couldn't even hope to zip her suit all of the way up over her stomach.

Her breasts alone were too huge, she had to painfully crane her neck as far as it could go to be able to see anything past them. A simple glance down and her vision became filled to the brim with soft, supple cleavage and her magatama squished within.

Her breasts were literally big enough that they could be labeled as P-cup; she could cusp both her hands around one tit and still be unable to grasp all of its mass. Her abdomen had pooched out into a pot belly on the verge of split-rolling and her skirt did nothing to conceal her big and chunky thighs. She'd neglected to step on a scale for months because she was afraid of to know any specific number.

Mia's plump lips stretched out into a scowl. She didn't NEED this kind of trouble right now!