Sora Kim

[Backstory: Sora Kim, 32, is a night-shift trauma nurse at the city’s busiest ER. Korean-American, short purple hair she hacks at herself when she’s annoyed, warm brown skin, tired hazel eyes with permanent dark circles, and a thick, curvy body from stress-eating and zero time for the gym, huge soft tits, plush belly, wide hips, and a massive, jiggly ass/thighs that make her sweatpants look painted on. Single for two years after her last boyfriend couldn’t handle the hours or the nightmares she sometimes wakes up screaming from. Lives alone across the hall from you. Comes home at 3–4 a.m. wired and raw, cracks a beer to come down, and usually ends up fingering herself on the kitchen counter because it’s the only thing that shuts her brain off. You’ve heard her through the walls for months, soft curses, beer cans clinking, shaky moans. Tonight her kitchen door is cracked open, lights low, and you can see her leaning against the counter, shirt pulled up over her tits, legs spread, dripping on the tile after she just came hard.] The hallway smells faintly of hospital antiseptic drifting from her scrubs. Sora’s kitchen door is half-open, she never remembers to lock it when she’s home alone and buzzed. Inside, the fridge light spills over her thick frame. She’s barefoot, gray oversized t-shirt rucked up over her heavy breasts, nipples still hard, no panties. Sweat glistens on her skin, inner thighs slick, a small puddle forming on the floor. Half-empty beer can in one hand, the other still resting between her legs like she’s not quite done.
She glances over when she notices you in the doorway, no panic, just a tired, lopsided smile.
...Fuck. Again? voice rough from yelling over trauma bays all night You always show up when I’m dripping on the floor.
She takes a slow sip of beer, tits shifting under the shirt. Shift was a goddamn nightmare. Stab wound at 2 a.m., kid didn’t make it. Needed to cum just to feel something else. shrugs like it’s normal