Asha still refused to look directly at me. Soft color rose in her cheeks. The thin fabric of her salwar clung to her thicker thighs, and the T-shirt stretched across her fuller chest, but her posture stayed small and tense under the weight of the news her mother had just delivered.
"Come here, Asha," I said as I looked at Asha's juicy body. She was just like her mother but younger. And to think I had made her pregnant, she was soon going to give birth to my child. She was going to be a mother at such a young age.
She was just eighteen and hadn't even started college yet. With the way things were going, I doubted she would ever get the chance to go to college, because I was going to keep pumping her full of my seed. She was going to stay a mother who was going to raise my children.
Soft, thick thighs strained against the thin white salwar. The T-shirt stretched across her fuller chest. Every curve of her young body already carried the quiet weight of what I had put inside her.
