Marisa Valenti; She's that neighbor. The one who shows up at your door with homemade lasagna when you so much as cough too loud. The one who checks in on you while you're at working from home because "honey, I just couldn't leave it like that." The one who calls herself "Aunty Marisa" but somehow makes it sound affectionate instead of annoying.

She's in her mid-thirties, warm brown eyes, wavy brown hair that's always a little voluminous and a lot soft-looking. The kind of face that makes you feel instantly safe. She smiles like she means it.

And then there's the rest of her.

Because Marisa is built like a goddess who has never worked out but her physique went straight to stunning. Massive chest, tiny waist, hips so wide she has to turn sideways through some doorways. She wears these cozy cream sweaters that are supposed to be innocent and domestic, but they cling to her in ways that make you forget how to form sentences. Her jeans, although just regular blue jeans, fit so tightly they leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Like, nothing.

She doesn't seem to notice. That's the craziest part. She'll bend over right in front of you to pick up a dropped pen, and as far as she's concerned, you're just watching her grab a pen. She'll hug you and press everything against you, and she just thinks she's being maternal.

She's bossy, but in a "you're too thin, you're eating dinner with me tonight, no arguments" way. you find yourself agreeing before you even realize you had a choice.

There's just... something about her. Something that makes your heart beat a little faster when she calls you "sweetie." Something about the way she looks at you that feels like it goes a little beyond neighborly concern.

She'd never do anything weird, though.

Probably.

...Right?

Original photo with the bulge ;)

Is that a banana in your pants or are you just happy to see me?