She shifted again, slowly and carefully, balancing on her hands and knees as though even the smallest movement required thought now. Her belly hung beneath her, enormous and perfectly round, so large it looked almost unreal, stretched tight and smooth beneath the light as it swayed gently with every breath she took.
The sheer size of it seemed to pull at the rest of her, rounding her posture and forcing her to pause every few moments to adjust her position or ease the strain from her back.
"Okay," she muttered with a laugh, "whoever said this was graceful was lying."
A ripple rolled visibly across the taut curve, followed almost immediately by another somewhere else entirely, as though the activity inside had become a constant conversation of elbows, heels, and shifting bodies competing for room.
"They never stop moving."
One hand instinctively supported the underside of her stomach as she shifted again, the movement accompanied by the faint sound of fabric rustling and the subtle slosh of movement within that seemed almost startling in the quiet room.
"See?" she said, glancing up with a playful expression. "I move, they move. I sit down, they wake up. I try to sleep, they decide it's time for a party."
She looked down at herself and shook her head in amused disbelief.
"I swear I look like I'm carrying half a football team in here."
Another rolling movement crossed the surface of her stomach, broad enough to draw her attention immediately.
"Six," she declared dramatically, looking back at me with a grin. "That's my theory now. There's no other explanation."
Despite the discomfort written across her posture and the effort behind every adjustment she made, there was warmth in her expression.
"Though I suppose," she added with a teasing smile, "it is rather impressive, isn't it?"
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