Pregnant women!

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Unafraid to proclaim succeess

What is it about pregnant women that so many of them like being photographed, or like photographing themselves?

There are no stupid questions, just snide commenters on Lit. . . .

Pregnancy is the one thing a woman can be sure a man can't compete with. It's not that they're prideful, but that they're unafraid to proclaim their accomplishment. Also, I suspect, to declare their joy at fulfillment, and a birth's triumph over death.
 
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From an habitually hyper-critical person who probably suffered the same as a child.

stupid question from a stupid person considering the thread

From a habitually hyper-critical person who probably suffered the same as a child.
 
In passing . . .

At a rustic hot pool far in the British Columbian woods of Canada, my eight-months-pregnant wife unashamedly stripped off in front of a bunch of boys on holiday after graduating from RCMP boot camp. She kept her panties on.

The boys were shy with her (boys: late teens, early and mid-twenties, about 15 of them.) After a while, some of them talked with us. I noticed how many politely tried but were sometimes unsuccessful at keeping their eyes from dropping to her breasts bobbing in the steam above the water. Her nipples were dark and remained turgid--only the center of them noticeably dark red. Though half-submerged, the gently sloshing water kept them in motion.

At one point, my wife moved into my arms, to sit between my legs on the ledge I was on, leaned back against me, and continued talking with the boys. Her back against my half-reclining chest, her breasts rose farther out of the water and her belly, like some atoll emerging, rose into sight. Some of the boys stared.

A wiggle of my wife's bottom acknowledged my erection behind her. She was clearly aware of her effect on her audience close across the narrow pool.

After a while, I cupped each breast with one of my hands, casually lifted them as we talked and, for those who bothered to glance up at me, my complicitous smile seemed to relax them. She later confirmed her awareness of their rapt attention, laughing at me for such a question, and . . . proof that they were a captured audience was in their conversation: prolonged at any excuse, by any comment, no matter how trivial, and how natural it seemed to chat about nothing. They kept their distance and proper social respect.

I think it's fair to say that my wife kept the boys in the water long after they had planned.
 
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