She easily reaches for the top shelf to grab a baking tray. With her full reach it’s clear she could replace a light bulb from standing. She brings the tray down and looks over to me and asks, “What would you like me to make for you?” “Something sweet,” I reply. She smiles and starts to prepare the ingredients for a cake. As the baking goes on, sugar and flour end up settling on her massive cleavage. She brushes it off, sending waves of breast flesh jiggling. She looks at me with a raised eyebrow and a little smirk, as if daring me to say something. I keep quiet, trying not to stare at her chest. The cake is done and she brings it over, leaning down so her breasts are right in my face. “Enjoy,” she says with a wink.
