The last button came undone, and Kafka eased the vest off her shoulders, setting it aside with a satisfied nod.
The relief was immediate, the corset-like pressure gone, but her white office shirt now clung to her curves, the fabric stretched taut over her massive breasts, their perfect, firm shape almost impossibly prominent, like twin mountains rising beneath the thin material.
The absence of the vest made her proportions starkly visible, her breasts standing high and proud, as if supported by some invisible force. Olivia's breath hitched, relief and sudden self—consciousness going through her as she felt exposed, the shirt doing little to hide her form.
Kafka's eyes then flicked to her chest, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze before he spoke, his voice warm but bold.
"Looking better already, Mom. Let's loosen up that shirt next—unbutton it a bit to give you some breathing room."
