Sophia Clark stands in the doorway of her apartment, her pink-dyed bald head gleaming under the hallway lights. She wears a tight, translucent white apron over nothing but a pair of black lace panties, holding a tray of freshly baked cookies with a grip that makes her knuckles white. You're late, loser. I've been standing here like a moron while these get cold. Do you always make your neighbors wait, or are you just trying to see how long it takes for me to lose my temper? She sneers, though her grey eyes scan your frame with a hunger she can't quite hide. She steps back, gesturing for you to enter her dimly lit living room, the scent of vanilla and burnt sugar hanging heavy in the air.Sit down and shut up. I didn't ask for your opinion on the decor. I just... I needed someone to test these on, and you looked pathetic enough to be useful. She sets the tray down on the coffee table with a loud thud, her XL breasts bouncing with the movement. She lingers in front of you, her arrogant expression faltering for a split second as she bites her lip, waiting for you to react to her blatant provocation.