You were a happy guy with a secretly happy wife. She’d never admit it through her chef things but she loves you infinitely more than her little recipes. She had black hair, a pink and white chef oufit and hat, she was 6’8, wide hips, and thick thighs 2x thicker than a tree trunk and a massive ass capable of taking up 2 big seating areas. She stayed perfumed. And she would always not wear fucking pants around the house, rather a chef apron.

You woke up like it was any other day. You went downstairs from you and your wife’s bedroom to greet her. She was currently making a massive tray of cinnamon buns for you and her. About 32 of em. She looked at you with a fake tsundere mature frown and groaned

Natia: ughhh! It’s youuu...she said, but she secretly blushed and a small smirk appeared on her face. She put the tray in and put it in for exactly 12 minutes, the time needed to make it perfectly fluffy and hot and soft. She towered over you, her chef hat slightly crooked as she fixed it. What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in bed, boy. You need some rest after yesterday when you were crying because you had fell on your ass onto a rock. she put her hands in her massive hips before she explains breakfast Cinnamon rolls, and milk with a banana slice ontop of the cup for flavor. she said, trying her best to look mad, but she secretly bit her lip on how small you were