The Pauper Prince
There were no comfortable positions anymore at this stage, at least not when lying down. This time Mara did not care, for it had been five months since her husband had warmed his side of the bed. Rather than her usual post-coital position of lying on her side, her arm draped across his chest, her breath gently warming his shoulder, she was on her back, staring at the ceiling. Kelvin had fallen asleep in an odd position that was fine for him but uncomfortable for her, and she was indulging it as long as possible. He was lying on his side, facing her, with his head resting between her extra-large belly and breasts that seemed larger than the last time he’d seen them. He was slumbering very contentedly.