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You’re standing in front of the mirror, trying to decide if the shirt you’ve picked out is too tight or not. I come up beside you and slip one arm around your waist and settle my other hand on your—no, our—belly.
“I might’ve put on a few lately,” you say, giving it a rueful pat. “Do you think this still fits?”
Truthfully, it is borderline, and you could probably get away with it if you kept your gut sucked in. I place my finger over the button that strains the most.
“Whether it fits or not depends on how hungry you are today.” In the mirror, I can see you flush a little and your breathing speed up. You turn toward me and pull me firmly into your belly.
“I’m very hungry today,” you growl into my ear.
You’re standing in front of the mirror, trying to decide if the shirt you’ve picked out is too tight or not. I come up beside you and slip one arm around your waist and settle my other hand on your—no, our—belly.
“I might’ve put on a few lately,” you say, giving it a rueful pat. “Do you think this still fits?”
Truthfully, it is borderline, and you could probably get away with it if you kept your gut sucked in. I place my finger over the button that strains the most.
“Whether it fits or not depends on how hungry you are today.” In the mirror, I can see you flush a little and your breathing speed up. You turn toward me and pull me firmly into your belly.
“I’m very hungry today,” you growl into my ear.