In those clothes that made her look like a sensual modern office worker, with tits even bigger than Elena's straining against the white fabric, Ophelia looked every bit the goddess of lust.
Ethan swirled the wine in his mouth, savoring the rich liquid for a moment before setting the glass back down on the table.
Then he leaned over Ophelia and tugged her white top down.
The fabric slid over her enormous pale orbs, catching on her stiff nipples for a brief second before finally giving way.
Those perfect, juicy tits sprang free with a heavy, weighty bounce, the soft flesh rolling outward in slow, fleshy waves before her tits crashed back into each other with a muffled, meaty slap.
Even without the support of the dress to hold them up, her tits kept their perfect shape: large, inflated, and round, yet without that plastic stiffness.
They were too full and plump for their size to seem real, yet they were a far cry from the silicone monstrosities Ethan remembered from his past life.
