A boy, not more than two years old, lay with his head against her stomach.

Not to finish the dish against my stomach, I suppose.

The feel of him hard and firm against my stomach was almost overwhelming.

It makes me think of putting my ear against someone's stomach and listening to what is going on inside.

Then her feet came up against his stomach, and she shoved him away again.

He pressed it against my stomach, standing close so that no one would see.

That would have been against my stomach, seeing the man had not chosen his own time.

He could see the baby's movements clearly as the child pushed against her stomach.

Something small and black moved against her white stomach.

The next thing I remember is feeling hands pressed against my stomach.