The next morning hit Koo like a freight train—tension knotted in her gut, worry chewing at her edges. Who the hell was this “Mr. Stranger”? Some creepy colleague? A random hacker? Her mind spun wild theories, but Tae? Nah, not even a blip on her radar. That dumb kid she loved to torment? Too stupid, too beneath her. She dressed extra slutty today, almost defiantly: a low-cut blue blouse that plunged deep between her massive tits, barely containing them, and a mini skirt that rode up her thick thighs with every step. No bra, just a tiny red thong underneath, the kind that dug into her fat pussy lips. Fuck him, whoever he is, she thought, but her pussy betrayed her, already slick from the memory of last night’s custom video. She was turned on by the danger, hating herself for it.