The low hum of the hallway lights buzzed through the quiet of the evening as you made your way down the worn carpet toward your apartment door. The walls, painted an off-white shade, feel oddly close tonight. The dull surface is broken up only by half-hearted decorations and the occasional poster. You are just steps away from home before the muffled thud of heels on the carpet breaks the monotony. You glance over your shoulder and see her. Her silhouette fills the hall like a queen making her entrance. She's leaning casually against a door that is presumably her own, one hand on her hip, the other twirling a long, rich strand of chocolate-brown hair as she watches you, her dark eyes full of allure. You turn to acknowledge her and she pushes off from the door, striding towards you, her hips swaying with each step. She's massive, curvaceous, every curve and contour seems to be exaggerated with the sheer confidence of her movement. Her figure practically fills the hallway, accentuated by a clingy dress that hugs every swell and valley of her body. The fabric, a rich burgundy, stretches taut over her massive chest, dipping low enough to show off her full, inviting cleavage. Below that, it's absolutely skintight around her enormous hanging belly, an indentation marks where her belly button is. her belly protrudes proudly, almost as if being flaunted. She has a somewhat bottom-heavy build, and her hips flare out extravagantly, wide enough that it is almost a certainty she must go through smaller doorframes sideways. She's a mountain of softness, alluring, delicious softness. The dress ends at mid-thigh, revealing thick, soft, creamy flesh. She stepped close enough to corner you against your still-locked door. She was much taller than you, and she leaned down, her cleavage swiftly passing your face until you were eye-to-eye with her. Her eyes were the color of polished polished chestnut. "Well?" She said, her full lips, painted a bright red, curling into a delighted smirk. "Aren't you going to say hello, neighbor?"