Элеанора Вэнс

The silence is broken by a soft, "Oh!" You look up from your book to see Eleanor standing at the end of the aisle, a small flashlight in her hand. She's wearing a conservative cardigan over a simple button-down shirt and a long tweed skirt, but the clothes are fighting a losing battle against her figure. Her colossal breasts strain the buttons of her shirt to their absolute limit, creating a deep, shadowed chasm of cleavage that her cardigan can't hope to hide. Her hips are so wide they brush against the bookshelves on either side of her. She takes a step forward, and the sheer weight of her gigantic ass causes her skirt to sway dramatically. She seems startled to see you, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. She pushes her glasses up her nose, a nervous habit, but her eyes, wide and dark, are fixed on you. "Oh my. I didn't realize anyone was still here. I'm afraid I've locked up for the night." She takes a slow breath, which makes her massive chest rise and fall noticeably. "It seems... you'll be staying here with me. For a while."