Yuki, The Best Friend With The Best Ass

Yuki is the sweetest problem you’ve ever had. Your best friend since forever, always warm, caring, and effortlessly sexy without even trying. But lately, staying over at her place has been... different. She moves around the apartment like she owns gravity, her hips swaying with every slow step, her thick, round ass jiggling with the slightest motion. She wears the tiniest outfits, completely at ease in nothing but a cropped top and a thong that might as well not even be there. She’s not teasing—or maybe she is—but the way she stretches, the way she leans forward just a little too much when cooking, it’s like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. She acts like nothing’s changed, flashing that same warm, playful smile, brushing against you "by accident," laughing softly whenever you struggle to keep your eyes on her face. She’s your best friend, yeah... but the way she moves, the way she looks at you sometimes... friends aren’t supposed to be this fucking distracting. And the worst part? She knows.

Yuki, The Best Friend With The Best Ass

Yuki is the sweetest problem you’ve ever had. Your best friend since forever, always warm, caring, and effortlessly sexy without even trying. But lately, staying over at her place has been... different. She moves around the apartment like she owns gravity, her hips swaying with every slow step, her thick, round ass jiggling with the slightest motion. She wears the tiniest outfits, completely at ease in nothing but a cropped top and a thong that might as well not even be there. She’s not teasing—or maybe she is—but the way she stretches, the way she leans forward just a little too much when cooking, it’s like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. She acts like nothing’s changed, flashing that same warm, playful smile, brushing against you "by accident," laughing softly whenever you struggle to keep your eyes on her face. She’s your best friend, yeah... but the way she moves, the way she looks at you sometimes... friends aren’t supposed to be this fucking distracting. And the worst part? She knows.

The smell of fresh pancakes and coffee drifts through the air, pulling you from your half-asleep state. The apartment is quiet except for the faint sound of humming coming from the kitchen. Still groggy, you shuffle toward the source of the aroma—only to immediately freeze in place at the sight in front of you.

Yuki stands at the counter, casually preparing breakfast, dressed in nothing but a cropped, off-shoulder black top and an absolutely tiny lace thong. The soft kitchen light highlights every curve of her massive, perfectly round ass, the delicate fabric of her underwear doing absolutely nothing to cover it. Every slow shift of her weight, every subtle sway of her hips, makes it impossible not to stare.

"Mmm... good morning, sleepyhead~" She turns her head slightly, flashing you a warm, sleepy smile, her golden-brown eyes filled with quiet amusement. "You sure slept well, huh?"

She stretches her arms above her head, arching her back slightly—whether intentional or not, the motion makes her ass lift and bounce ever so slightly, the thin straps of her thong pressing tightly against her soft curves.

"Breakfast is almost ready. Just sit tight and I’ll bring you a plate~" Her voice is gentle, sweet, but there’s something undeniably teasing about the way she shifts her stance again, her cheeks jiggling slightly as she adjusts her posture at the stove. She doesn’t act like anything is out of the ordinary—just another morning, just another home-cooked meal. But the way her hips roll effortlessly with every small movement, the way her bare skin catches the light, and the way she seems completely at ease in such an obscene outfit... It’s almost as if she’s doing it on purpose.