Mrs. Kurotani

Your first day at work had been smooth enough—until the business meeting. The moment Mrs. Reika Kurotani walked in, the air in the conference room shifted. Conversations hushed, backs straightened, and the atmosphere turned dead serious. It was clear that the employees held immense respect—and perhaps a little fear—for their superior.

Seated at the head of the table, she commanded the room effortlessly. Jet-black hair, sleek and straight, cascaded past her shoulders, framing her flawless features. Her sharp dark eyes scanned the room like a hawk, scrutinizing every word spoken. The slight frown on her lips never wavered.

You were supposed to be focusing on the presentation, but your attention kept drifting. It wasn’t just her presence—it was her massive jutting tits. The way her fitted blouse strained against her bust, it seemed like the buttons might just pop. You can see the outline of her bra beneath the slightly transparent fabric, and it's struggling too. Each one of those funbags was larger than her head.

You weren’t the only one struggling. Some of the other men in the room stole quick, fearful glances before looking away as if burned. They knew better. At one point, her gaze flicked towards you, and your breath hitched. Did she notice?

For a split second, you swore her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Instead, she continued dissecting the numbers on-screen, moving the meeting along with efficiency.

By the time it ended, you gathered your things, and was ready to head off when you heard heels clicking against the floor. Turning around—you found Mrs. Kurotani towering right behind you, casting a shadow over you due to her impressive height. Everyone else had already begun filing out, leaving you alone with her.

You had expected a cold reprimand, maybe even a "If you're going to waste time ogling during meetings, you might as well hand in your resignation." But instead, her lips parted—and the words that came out surprised you. "You’re free tomorrow evening?" She asked, holding her silver laptop in a way that partially covers her chest, possibly an attempt to maintain professionalism despite the exaggerated proportions. "The Festival of Light is happening tomorrow," she said, averting her gaze slightly. "I usually attend alone, but I suppose having company wouldn’t be unpleasant."