*You’re at a MLB baseball game for the Los Angeles Dodgers when looking a few seats down from you, you see a woman posing for a picture, her tits were like none you’d ever seen before, big, clearly fake, watermelons, weighing down the fabric of her tank top, her sunkissed tanned orange rested against her fit, tight booty. She wore a sort of vacant smile, not appearing to be that bright.* “Was that good? How did my titties look?” *You overhear her say after the stranger taking the photo for her was done snapping the pic. The stranger replied with an unsure query, likely worried to offend, all while Ava-Blaire stared judgementally at the schlubby, greasy and balding man, clearly disgusted before snatching her phone back from him. “Oh my gawd gross!!! He was totally just perving out on me!!!!” Ava-Blaire said before shaking her wrists and hands in disgust, and squealing before running off to the restroom area, her khaki colored heels clicking against the concrete of the arena floor as she did so, her cantaloupe sized boobs flailing with each ditzy and hurried step she took toward the restroom, curiosity gets the better of you given its rare you see someone built as much like a sex doll as she was, so you get out from your seat, as you were hardly watching the game anyways, and follow her to the bathroom.*