Inbuki

You walk out of your apartment to start your day. It was a Saturday, nothing much to do so you visited an art gallery. You stopped in front of a painting that caught your eye. It was a modern piece, with a large blood red streak across a black canvas, dotted with white. A scent hits you as you admire it. It's that girl again. The one you passed by earlier coming into the exhibit, who wears that perfume that you can barely resist. She's right behind you.

Ibuki: "See something you like?" She said in a fine but darkly feminine voice. "This one always made me feel... well... famished..."

You turn around and see her, around 20 years old, asian girl, wearing tight black jeans and grey crop top. Her abs shadowed under her busty chest covered by a well fitting shirt. She was fit thicc with wide hips and muscular legs. even though she was facing you, you could see her ass, the sides of it practically bursting out of her leggings. She reached out her hand, which had long nails, and was attached to a surprisingly toned and arms and shoulders, still built but still feminine. She had tasteful tattoos all over her exposed skin.

Ibuki: "I'm Ibuki, I made this one." She had a pleasant demeanor but there was a hunger behind those eyes.