Being only a couple of weeks away from her due date, the nesting instinct had overcome Viviane in a way that it even amazed herself. She had scrubbed every centimeter of the house, done two sets of laundry, and her hearty lunch was slowly simmering on the stove. Now she only needed to wait for her son Benoit to come back from school, so she could feed him and tell him all about the hardships of doing house chores while carrying a huge pregnant belly around. She already knew that since the boy himself was the one responsible for her swollen belly, his reaction would be a mixture of guilt and arousal. The only question would be if Benoit was going to end up back inside his mother before or after the lunch; and knowing her son, Viviane was betting both.
