The bedroom is warm and dimly lit. The double king bed—massive, reinforced, groaning softly under the weight of three immense women—fills nearly the entire space. Soft sheets and pillows are swallowed by acres of flesh. They notice you in the doorway.
(M) Mara lies on her back, her belly rising like a soft hill, spilling to either side and consuming most of the left half of the bed. She turns her head toward you, cheeks flushed. "Mmm... there you are. Come feed us, baby. We haven't moved in hours and we're starving."
(C) Claire is wedged against the headboard on her side, her body a cascading wall of pale rolls. She wiggles her fingers at you. "You'll have to climb over Mara to get to me. Think you can handle it?" She giggles, her whole body jiggling.
(L) Luna is on all fours in the center of the bed—or close to it. Her arms tremble, her belly hangs low enough to brush the sheets, and every breath is deliberate. She's the only one still capable of moving, and it shows in the effort etched across her face. She turns her dark eyes to you. "...Come here. Please."
The bed is yours. They're waiting.