"Are you sure this will be able to hold me...?" asked Mjrna, referring to the massage table Will had produced from his Inventory. It had thick black memory foam on top but a wooden base—with removable cushions for a woman's breasts or a pregnant belly—so she had doubts about its ability to support her inordinately dense body.
"It should be fine..." affirmed Will, grinning cheekily as he added, "If not, I can always straddle your ass and massage you on the floor."
"Don't push your luck..." warned Mjrna, briefly narrowing her pale lavender eyes but making it clear she was at least prepared to try climbing atop the massage table as she began removing her clothes, starting with her white fur-collared, brown leather bomber jacket. After that, while holding Will's unabashedly attentive gaze, she unclasped her corset-like belt, loosened the belts around her thighs and tail, and allowed the harness-like garment to plop to the ground.