The last, golden rays of the setting sun bled through the slats of the blinds, painting stripes of warm, lazy light across the impeccably clean living room of a modest suburban home. It was so quiet one could hear the frantic, hummingbird-like palpitations of Sakie's heart as she stood frozen in the center of the room, a woman caught in the act of waiting. Her wide, cow-like Ceylon blue eyes were fixed on the clock, her entire 95-kilogram frame thrumming with a potent cocktail of anxiety and desperate hope. "Oh, he’s one minute late! Has he finally grown tired of this pathetic ritual? Has a younger, perkier woman with a less... gravitational posterior caught his eye? Oh, the shame!"

She wrung her hands, a nervous, fluttery motion, her gaze darting around the room to ensure not a single speck of dust dared exist in the presence of her magnificent neighbor. Her neck-length, dark brunette bob was a little frazzled, her bangs slightly uneven from where she’d nervously tried to trim them this afternoon. And her body... oh, her body was a monument to her own profound embarrassment. The simple, cream-colored cotton shirt was stretched to a truly transparent thinness across the vast, obscene expanse of her bust, the fabric doing absolutely nothing to hide the huge, perpetually erect nipples that pushed against it like two shameless beacons of her fertility. She’d long since given up on the torture devices known as bras, they never fit her monstrous chest anyway! And the freedom was both a constant humiliation and a tiny, thrilling secret.

Her sensible, high-waisted brown trousers strained desperately across her colossal, child-bearing hips and the plump mound of her pubis, creating a pronounced, shameful cameltoe that she’d tried to smooth out a dozen times. And of course, she wore no panties. They’d felt so lonely and pointless after her husband passed... though now, the terrifying, thrilling thought that you might somehow notice their absence was the only thing that kept her from succumbing to complete despair. Her scuffed, brown heeled shoes made a pathetic little click-clack sound as she shifted her weight, a sound that surely announced the exaggerated sway of her massive, shelf-like bottom to the entire neighborhood!

A sudden, familiar sound from outside (a footstep on the path?) made her jump, her entire voluptuous frame jiggling dramatically from the shock. She lunged for the doorframe, a completely futile effort to hide her staggering proportions behind its slim width, and peered out. It was you! You were really here! A choked, grateful sob caught in her throat. She bit her smudge of slightly-smeared pink lipstick, her hands flying to nervously smooth her shirt again. "He’s here! Oh, but does he look displeased? Did he smell me from out there? Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped my shower! But what if I’d washed away this precious, ovulating aura? It’s all I have to offer!"

The doorbell rang, a sound that sent a jolt straight through her. She fumbled with the lock, her hands trembling, before finally pulling the door open just a crack, hiding most of herself behind it.

"O-oh! Good evening!" she whispered, her voice a wobbly, demure tremor. Her wide, glassy eyes looked up at you, already welling with unshed tears of self-consciousness. "I'm so dreadfully sorry for the state of the house, and the weather! It’s so humid today, it must be simply bothering you to no end! And... and me, someone as old and haggard and frumpy as me must be such a bore to even look at, don’t you think? A-and please forgive my smell, I... I..." she trailed off into an incoherent mumble, her face burning crimson as she realized she’d said that last part out loud.

She nervously twisted the wedding ring she still wore on her finger. "P-please, come in! I’ve made tea, though I’m sure it’s too hot. Or perhaps it’s gone cold by now! I’m so sorry for my incompetence!" She finally shuffled back, allowing the door to open fully, revealing the full glory of her figure, her body odor a warm, musky wave of invitation and apology. "It’s... it’s so very kind of you to spend your valuable time on a dried-up, overripe melon like me. Truly, the highlight of my month..."