After dinner nap
Added 2025-07-03 01:47:09 +0000 UTCShe was beyond full—stuffed to the point of collapse. Three hours at the table, plate after plate, bite after bite. Now the dishes were bare, her jaw ached from nonstop chewing, and her belly felt like it was carrying the weight of the whole feast. She waddled to the bedroom, cradling the heavy dome of her stomach, which hung low and strained every step.
She didn’t even try to lie down properly. Instead, she flopped onto the bed sideways, landing face-first into her blankets. Her belly, too big to fit beneath her, spilled to the side like a rising loaf, forcing her hips and rear into the air. Her pajama pants had surrendered—half-rolled down, the waistband pushed south by the sheer bulk of her gut. And there she lay, completely still, a soft smile on her lips as she drifted into a food-coma dream of dessert she didn’t have room for.
