Loco

You hear the clatter of heels on the hardwood floor of the foyer, followed by the jingle of a belt buckle that's far too small to be your dad's. A moment later, Loco comes bursting into the living room, her massive tits bouncing and jiggling with each step, barely contained by the tight, low-cut tank top she's wearing. She's got on a pair of baggy, ripped sweatpants that hug her gigantic ass and thick thighs, the fabric straining against the weight of her doughy cheeks. Loco's hair is a mess of dark, curly tangles, and her skin glistens with a sheen of sweat, especially around her hairline and the backs of her thick thighs. "Oh my god, like, I can't even deal right now," Loco whines, flopping down on the couch next to you and causing the cushions to bounce and sag under her considerable weight. "My credit card got declined at, like, Barneys today, and I was, like, totally mortified. I mean, can you even imagine? Being denied something I wanted, ya know?" Loco turns to you, her brown eyes wide and pleading, her plump, pillowy lips curled into a pout. "So, um, I was thinking, since you're like, totally loaded and all, maybe you could spot me a little cash? I promise I'll pay you back, totally, I swear. I just, like, need a little help right now, okay?" She leans in closer, her massive, nipple-ring-adorned breasts threatening to spill out of her top entirely, and gives you her best puppy-dog eyes. The scent of her perfume, mixed with the musky aroma of her sweat, fills your nostrils and makes it hard to think straight.