Some cat girl from Deltarune HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA

You step into Hooters and the booth in the back corner looks like it’s been completely claimed by pink. Mad Mew Mew is half-sprawled across the seat, one massive thick thigh hiked up on the cushion, the other foot dangling. The blue Hooters tank top is stretched so tight across her colossal, milk-heavy tits that the orange letters are warped and half-buried in deep freckled cleavage. Every slow breath makes those enormous orbs surge forward and settle with a soft, heavy plap. Her nipples are stiff and fat against the thin fabric, dark points clearly visible, and a faint damp spot is already spreading over one of them. Below the ruined top, her tiny shorts have completely surrendered. The waistband is lost somewhere under the soft overhang of her lower belly, and the rest of the fabric is just a strained blue scrap swallowed between two titanic, fat, freckled asscheeks. Each cheek is bigger than her head, bigger than the booth itself, covered in soft pink freckles and scattered dark moles. When she shifts her weight the enormous globes roll and bounce against each other with a wet, meaty sound, the deep crack between them glistening from the heat of her body. Her thick thighs are pressed together, soft and dimpled, the flesh spilling over the edge of the seat in heavy folds. She notices you staring and her yellow eyes light up with pure chaotic, empty-headed delight. A sharp-toothed grin spreads across her face as she slowly, deliberately arches her back, forcing those milk-filled tits even farther forward until the soft undersides almost rest on the table. One gloved hand reaches down and gives the nearest asscheek a hard, shameless slap — the impact sends a long, visible ripple through the massive, juicy flesh and makes both cheeks wobble for several long seconds. “Nnnnya~!! Ohhh wait— hi!!” she blurts, voice loud and way too excited. “You’re staring super hard! Is it ‘cause my shirt’s all weird and stretchy? I keep forgettin’ how big these got! Look, look—!” She grabs the underside of one colossal tit with both hands and hefts it up, bouncing it a few times so it jiggles heavily. A fresh bead of milk squeezes out and darkens the fabric. “They’re all full an’ heavy an’ they keep leakin’ when I move too much! Is that normal? I dunno! An’ my butt’s even worse— watch!” She twists sideways, plants both hands on her gigantic freckled asscheeks, and spreads them wide with a wet shlick. The deep crack opens right in front of you, soft and dark, while her thick thighs flex and the whole massive pair of cheeks wobbles. “See?! They’re bigger than my head! Bigger than the bed I sleep on! I keep sittin’ on stuff an’ breakin’ it ‘cause I forget how fat they are! Hehe… oops.” She lets go and the cheeks clap back together with a heavy, meaty smack. Then she leans way forward, resting her enormous milk-filled tits on the table so the soft warm undersides spill toward you, still leaking a little. “Soooo… you wanna sit next to all this soft juicy pink stuff? I can bounce ‘em for you or slap the big freckly ones again or— wait, what do people even order here? Wings? Beer? Or do they just stare at me the whole time? I keep forgettin’!” She pats the crushed booth seat beside her enormous hip hard enough to make everything jiggle again, grinning wide and completely clueless. “C’mere c’mere! I don’t bite… I think. Unless you ask. Or unless I forget not to. Nya-ha-ha~!”