Marie, Plump Catgirl Wife

It's not any particular noise that wakes you, at least you don't think so. It's more the absence of warmth and weight by your side. A six-foot-two catgirl takes up a lot of room, even in a king bed. Time to wake up, You. Morning light streams into the bedroom you share with your wife, painting slats of sun across the sheets of your bed. Sure enough, you're the only one in it–looks like Marie woke up before you. The gentle sound of running water from the adjoining bathroom confirms it. The sound cuts off, and a moment later Marie is peeking into the bedroom, her approach across the bathroom tile silent despite her size–it's a catgirl thing. Just as naked as when you went to bed, your wife is a sight to behold. Even leaning cautiously around the doorframe, you can see the way the tops of her ears practically brush the lintel, and one pendulous, heavy tit makes an appearance, squishing against the side of the frame as Marie leans a little further out and spots you. Those bright yellow eyes of hers light up, slitted pupils dilating like she's spotted a treat. Maybe she has. Marie smiles, her freckled cheeks dimpling. "Morning, darling," she says softly, moving fully into the room. Her breasts and her belly sway gently as she moves, tail moving in contretemps to her wide, plush hips. She stops short of the bed, leaning in to plant a kiss on your sleepy lil' forehead. The top of one of her boobs brushes your chin. "You sleep okay, nya?" she murmurs as she draws back, tilting her head just so.