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I started to say I wasn’t Brad, but then I remembered I’d told that name to the two gorgeous girls I’d boarded the bus with. One thing had led to the next, and they ultimately asked me to “chill” with them at their sorority house. My pheromones guaranteed what they meant by “chill”, and it sounded like a good way to lay low for a few hours until I could find out if my actions at the mall had resulted in a manhunt. Right now I wasn’t sure what the fallout would be, but my response was leaning towards “run like hell”.
I stood up in the aisle to let them file out, and Erica went first. She was the taller of the two. and when she bent over to pick up her shopping bags she “accidentally” ground her ass against my crotch. That constituted restraint, since inhaling my pheromones for about a half hour had probably left her spending the last ten minutes trying to think of a way to fuck me in the bus seat. Amita, her sorority sister and roommate, hip-bumped Erica off of me and said, “Save it for the dance tonight.”
Erica was a slender white brunette with mischievous green eyes and Amita was East Indian, with medium-dark skin and a dancer’s toned body. Erica’s denim shorts just barely covered the curve of her ass, while her transparent blouse did more to show off her yellow cross-hatched string bikini than hide it. While Erica looked like she’d just left the beach, Amita’s loose-fitting electric blue running shorts and sports bra were straight out of a gym’s “reasons to go here” ad. Her top was just thin enough to leave no doubt where her nipples were, and tight enough to keep her cocoa-brown cleavage in view.
As we worked our way off the bus, I felt a few female hands caress my ass as I went by. I really wished that my alien resurrectors had given me an off switch for my pheromones, but I guess that would’ve gone against their goal of spreading their evolved genes as widely and as quickly as possible.
As the bus drove away, Erica and Amita led me down the street towards their sorority house. Their well-formed asses oscillated in front of me with a conscious, practiced strut as we walked a mile or so past large multi-story houses with Greek letters.
The weight of both girls’ shopping bags in my hands was actually refreshing. It’d been decades since I’d been this strong, and my 1940s sensibilities demanded that I demonstrate a little bit of old-fashioned chivalry to the girls – at least, until their inevitable impregnations. That outcome was a foregone conclusion today, but I hoped to get some rest before I had to get back on the run.
The front door to their sorority house was unlocked, and Erica swung it open and waved me in. “Entres vous,” she said in a mock French accent. The house was a bit small compared to most of the others, but Amita contributed that this was the smaller of their sorority’s two houses.
The first thing I noticed was a scent of potpourri candles, and the second was a cozy assembly area in their front room. The floor was faux wood paneling, accented in a few places by small rugs.
“Our room is upstairs,” Erica said as she checked a mail cubby by the door. “And house rules say that male visitors must leave by 8 – but that doesn’t matter if no one knows you’re here.” She winked and added, “It’s not like they’ll check, unless we’re really loud.”
I nodded. “And I officially accept your invite. What’re the plans for tonight?”
She grinned. “Costume rave, actually. Our sorority’s going as faeries – that means fake wings, sheer dresses, and body glitter. Others are doing Catholic schoolgirls, nurses, you name it.”
She paused for a second before she added, “You can come with us. Each of us is allowed to bring one non-Greek along, and neither of us had dates picked out.”
I grinned and said, “Sounds fun! What’re we doing until then?”
Amita nudged me in the shoulder and said quietly, “Let’s go figure that out. C’mon, before house mom sees us and makes you sign in.” She turned and walked up the stairs in front of me, and Erica and I followed. Her shorts were a work of art which revealed every curve of her early-20s ass. It was impossible not to enjoy the view, and my dick hardened a little in spite of myself.
In my position, a normal college guy would nervously micro-analyze his every move in a desperate, often counter-productive attempt to avoid messing up his chance to get laid. But my pheromones meant that sex was a foregone conclusion at this point, and all I really wanted right now was a nap before Amita and Erica inevitably took things to the next level.
Erica shouldered open their bedroom door and sat down at a desk across the room, and I selected a beanbag chair near the closest bed. The door clicked shut behind us as Amita locked it, then sat down at a bed right inside the door.
Amita plucked a t-shirt off her dresser, then slipped it over her sports bra and fumbled around underneath until she sighed with relief and pulled her bra out from under the shirtin an impressive feat of agility. Her shirt was plain and white, and far from loose-fitting. I’m sure she intended for me to notice her nipples poking through the shirt, but I avoided making any comments. I still had hopes of taking a nap before getting her pregnant.
Erica’s arms were up, her hands resting on the back of her neck as her expression begged for my attention. As soon as I made eye contact she asked, “You’re not a prude, are you?”
I shook my head, and Erica grinned widely. “Good,” she said – and pulled the string on her bikini top. She smirked saucily as she stretched and arched her back, effectively topless.
“Erica!” Amita gasped out as her friend’s bikini top hit the floor.
“Oh Amita, lighten up. You took yours off too,” she pointed out.
I smirked, leaned further back into the beanbag chair, and folded my hands behind my head. “Not like I object,” I contributed.
That was an understatement on my part. In spite of myself, there was a hard-on sticking up from my pants like a flagpole, and Erica definitely noticed it.
“I bet he doesn’t object,” sighed Amita. She arched her back a little, her nipples straining at her shirt as it rode up and exposed a few inches of firm, flat midriff.
Erica sauntered over to the beanbag chair, taking effort to ensure I noticed her breasts through her see-thru top.
“You don’t mind sharing, do you? This is my favorite spot,” she said. The warmth of her skin seeped into my side as the curve of her left breast pressed gently into my side.
I shrugged and slipped my arm around behind her back. “Sharing makes the world go round,” I said resignedly. Inwardly I sighed, realizing my nap wasn’t going to happen. And after the yelling and the screaming started, who knows how many more girls would come to investigate and stay for the orgy?
“Now Erica, that chair looks too small for the two of you,” Amita chided.
Erica giggled. “It’s fine – unless of course you were planning to join us?” she asked.
Amita’s cheeks flushed so red that I could see it through her cocoa-brown skin as she stammered out, “Well… yes, I’d like to.”
Amita’s bed was a typical girl-nest piled high with pillows, and she almost looked small when framed by them all. But I didn’t want to see the girls start fighting over me, so I interjected, “How about we move it to the bed, ladies?”
Erica cracked a half-smile and playfully punched me in the side. “Think you’re getting lucky or something?” she asked.
I wistfully replied, “I know I’m getting lucky. I’d really rather have a nap first, though.”
“Excuse you?” Erica yelped.
My only response was to stand up, stretch, then hop over onto the bed. I landed right in the center and bounced satisfyingly, leaving Erica alone in the chair staring at me in disbelief as I came to rest against Amita’s bare knees. I met her eyes and retorted, “I’m taking a nap starting right now – unless you stop me.”
Erica clenched her jaw and half-grinned at the same time, catlike and graceful. Her bare breasts swayed seductively as she shrugged out of her see-through top, leaving her truly topless. She shook her head in disbelief. “If you weren’t so damn hot,” she muttered under her breath.
Standing by the foot of the bed, Amita giggled nervously as her topless roommate snuggled up to me. Erica possessively laid her arm over my torso, and then the bed sank down a little as Amita laid down on my other side. I was suddenly grateful both girls were petite, because the full-size bed would’ve been a tight fit otherwise.
I was lying on my side facing Erica when Amita snaked her arm around my waist from behind. Erica curled up to me and ran her fingers down my chest, making me the center of a girl sandwich as two sets of fingers explored my chest. Amita felt through the fabric of my shirt as Erica picked idly at the buttons. Next, I felt air on my chest as Erica began to unbutton them, exposing the chiseled physique I’d never dieted or exercised for.
I scooted off the bed, jostling both girls in the process. “Hey!” Erica exclaimed as she regained her balance, just before my shirt dropped to the floor by my feet.
I turned around and faced them, shirtless. Erica catcalled as she reached behind herself and pressed a button on her cellphone. Some kind of pop music began blaring out of a bluetooth speaker mounted on her headboard.
“Just in case it gets loud,” she grinned. Erica leaned back in the bed, both girls watching me intently.
I wasn’t the type to refuse them a show. My shirt was already off, and my hands were on my belt. Since I wasn’t some master stripper, I stepped out of my pants one foot at a time, smiling at both of the girls in turn. At first I was disappointed that they weren’t meeting my eyes – then I noticed they were looking lower.
They were staring at the tent being pitched in my boxers. My dick was making its best effort to escape through my fly, and Erica and Amita both licked their lips nervously.
The music played on as I slipped off my underwear, escalating their expressions to open lust. My erection bounced with each step as I walked to the bed, then crawled up between the two girls again. Amita looked away for a brief moment before her eyes were drawn back to mine. Erica pressed herself up against me eagerly, while Amita seemed a little more reserved, hovering just a few inches away from me. I wrapped one arm around each girl and pulled them closer.
I turned to my right and met Erica’s eyes. I was still looking at her face when a hand wrapped around my shaft, stroking it slowly. Erica was either a master poker player, or her hand wasn’t the one in question. When I looked down, I was surprised to notice that the hand gripping my cock was actually a smooth brown.
“Amita!” Erica exclaimed in astonishment as she followed my eyes.
“I couldn’t let you lead the whole time, could I?” Amita shot back.
I glanced over at Amita, and then back to Erica. The white girl was staring daggers at her roommate. “I was about to blow him,” she protested. She looked into my eyes and pleaded, “You’d rather have that than her hand, right?”
Amita blushed but didn’t let go. “I’m taking him inside me,” she countered.
Erica’s eyebrows went up. “You? Amita, you’re practically a virgin!”
Amita said nothing, just rolled onto her back and started pushing down her shorts. Erica’s mouth dived for my penis, but was deflected by Amita’s insistent open palm.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Amita cried out, shoving hard.
Erica tottered off balance on the side of the bed as Amita straddled me cowgirl style. She hadn’t had enough time to pull her shorts down the rest of the way, but pushing the crotch to the side was enough. She was almost perfectly lined up over my shaft when she ground down, impaling herself on my erection with a contented gasp.
“Practically a virgin, huh?” Amita said as she shifted her weight so I’d bottom out inside her, my steel-hard cock completely enveloped by her hot, pulsing sex. Amita let out a triumphant moan as her pussy lips ground against my pelvis, completing our connection.
I wrapped my arms around her hips and thrust back hard, lifting her off the bed as Erica pouted at us from the side. Amita rode me tightly, not pulling back long enough for her shorts to rub. My fingers teased at her shirt, tickling the skin just beneath it. Amita shivered for a moment, then flung her shirt off. I saw her bare breasts for the first time, mid-range C cups or so that looked huge on her slim, toned frame.
Erica rolled off of the bed in surrender, standing up so she could slip her own shorts off. Her hair flowed airily, dark and shoulder-length, as she tossed her head back. “Me next, ok?” she asked.
Amita didn’t say a word, just closed her eyes and flattened out her palms against my chest as she thrust in tune to the music. Our legs intertwined as I rolled over, pinning her beneath me as I strove inside her. Every inch of my skin hungered for more contact with her as I ran my fingers up and down her back. Muscles danced beneath her skin as she gasped in pleasure, every motion a deepening of the connection we felt.
I felt a touch on my back and noticed Erica had climbed into the bed beside me again. “Save some for me,” Erica whispered – just as I arched my back as my orgasm built up, starting as a ghost of a feeling and then erupting into a conflagration of lust and instinct within seconds. I clenched my jaw as the sensation built and built, peaking over me like ocean waves until I ground myself against Amita and exploded, cumming into her so hard she let out a surprised gasp. Erica next to us on her back, her legs slightly parted as she fingered herself and waited for her turn. Amita gasped and panted as I held her tight, finishing inside her as pulse after pulse of my seed entered her vagina. It’d only been a few hours since the mall, but I felt like a teenage boy who hadn’t cum in a week. I didn’t even want to imagine what Amita’s vagina must look like at this point as I gave her those last few mini-thrusts that would milk the rest of my cum out of my erupting cock. I looked down at Amita’s face, beaded with sweat, with her eyes rolled upwards in orgasm after orgasm – all of which my cock could verify as her vagina twitched, clutching my cock as it spent its last few drops of sperm and began to shrink.
Amita’s orgasm began to taper off, and my dick finally shrank out of her, so I rolled back into my position between the girls and waited for the inevitable freak-out.
Amita rolled over and cuddled up to my side, pressing her lithe body up against me the side. Her skin still tingled from my touch, even as my sperm worked its magic within her.
Erica reached across me to slap her roommate’s thigh and pout-barked out, “No! My turn! Find your own!”
I snickered and kissed her. “You’ll be next if you want to be.”
Erica nodded enthusiastically, then looked down at my dick and asked, “How long’ll that be? Normally I’m not into sharing, but no way are you leaving this bed without satisfying me too.“
My arms were wrapped comfortably around the two girls’ shoulders, relishing the sensations of their bare skin against mine. Amita shifted her hips back and forth, wrinkling her nose a little as she felt her pussy lips gliding against each other, lubricated by my sperm. “Ok, so – I’ve just gotta ask. Brad, why’d you cum inside me?”
Erica chimed in with, “Shit, Amita! Paranoid as you are, why’d you just jump on him like that anyway?”
Amita smiled nervously. “No idea! I just had to have him, but now I’m really thinking I don’t want to go through the next few weeks wondering if I’m pregnant or not.”
I pulled her head close to me and kissed the top of her forehead. “Then I’ll tell you right now: you’re pregnant.”
Erica slapped me on the leg. “Don’t even joke about that!” she snapped.
I just half-smiled, closed my eyes, and mentally counted the seconds. The two girls settled back into snuggling up to me, their hands idly exploring my chest. I reached forty before I could feel Amita’s growing belly pressing up against me – and her first scream of shock came seconds later.
“Oh my GOD!” Amita shrieked. She rolled away from me and onto her back, her neck craning incredulously to stare at the bump now protruding insistently from her midriff.
Erica stared in shock at her roommate’s bulge, scooting backwards as if it were about to explode. “What the fuck?” she yelled.
I opened my eyes and looked from one girl to the other – both girls were standing now, their expressions flickering between disbelief and horror. “What did you do to me?” Amita demanded with her hands cradling the expanding bump in her midriff.
I shrugged. “Already told you – you’re pregnant.”
Amita spluttered for a moment, unable to come up with words for a moment as she stared down at her belly, then at me, then back to the growing bump in her midriff.
“You know what? Fuck you,” she swore under her breath and reached behind her headboard.
There was a clunking noise, and the light-framed, soft-spoken Indian woman’s hand came into view, clutching a short black revolver. She leveled it at me with a practiced two-handed grip. And most importantly, she backed away out of my reach and kept the gun aimed at my chest. I doubted that I could move before she could pull the trigger, and I hoped she’d be able to resist the urge to pull whether I moved or not.
When she snarled out, “What the fuck is happening to me?” her voice was American, every trace of an Indian accent long gone.
Erica had grabbed her cellphone and was fiddling with it, her shaking fingers unable to unlock her home screen. “I need to call the hospital, Amita!”
“Hospital?” the new voice of Amita barked, “I’m sending this asshole to the morgue unless he starts talking!”
Erica looked up from her cellphone and saw her roommate’s revolver for the first time. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you ever tell me you had a gun?”
Amita didn’t take her eyes off of me for a second. “Why tell you,” she snapped, “when you’ve got no clue how to use it and didn’t want to learn? Where’s the upside in telling you?”
My eyes were focused quite intently on the small, black revolver. I began to speak calmly, trying hard to take her mind off of killing me. “First off, kudos for being prepared – but I promise it’s unnecessary. 38 Special, right? I’m a 45 guy myself; it served me well in the Army.”
Amita shook her head. “The Army switched to 9mm in the mid-80s, asshole – my dad bitched about it after it happened. Now tell me what’s happening to me, or I’m parking a 357 magnum hollow point in your chest!”
My hands slowly raised up to either side of my head, palms out. She was stressed, but she kept the gun steady even as her belly continued to grow. “I’m getting there, Amita. When I signed up, the US Army issued me an M1911. I took it to war with me, and killed a few nazis with it – but I killed more with my M1 Garand.”
She scowled in disbelief, but I continued. “I was born in 1928, and died two days ago in my original body. They sent me back, Amita – I’ve got a second chance, and I’m here to spread the next wave of human evolution. That’s what’s happening to you – the future of our species.” Amita looked about 4 months pregnant at this point, and some of the initial shock was beginning to fade. She’d backed up until her butt rested on a dresser, and the inexorable expansion of her uterus was getting harder for her to ignore.
Amita looked down, then back up. “Tell me the truth, asshole,” she growled.
On the other side of the room, Erica looked up from her phone and froze when she saw how big Amita’s belly was already. “Shit, Amita – there’s no way they’ll get here in time.”
I pressed my point. “Do you have a better reason why you’re this far along just minutes after we had sex? I told you you were pregnant, and I wasn’t lying. You can see that. And now I’m telling you that after some initial discomfort, you’ll enjoy what comes next.”
Amita looked down again at her taut belly, which now looked about 6 months along. “I’m pre-med, studying to go OB/GYN. I know this isn’t possible!”
I shook my head. “Not humanly possible, no.”
Amita ran her fingers over the swollen surface of her belly, her surprise only deepening as she felt the outline of one of the eggs growing inside her. “Growing this fast should hurt like hell,” she marveled – but kept the gun on me. She pressed her hand against her belly experimentally, as if to assure herself it wasn’t a hallucination.
And then an unexpected, sudden contraction struck. She gasped and bent over forward, letting out a groan as fluid started cascading down her legs. Her hands went to rest on her knees reflexively, the gun pointing away from me for just a moment.
That was all I needed to discover just how scarily fast my new body was. Before I’d really thought it over, my hand shot out and snatched her revolver out of her palm in a blur of motion, like a striking snake. Amita gasped and jerked her trigger finger, pulling through empty air as the gun was no longer in her hand.
I brought her revolver up to my chest to keep it out of reach, swung out its cylinder, ejected its rounds with a slap of my palm, then threw the empty gun into a pile of clothes in their shared closet. Amita’s face registered disappointment for a brief moment before the contraction peaked, distracting her as she she gritted her teeth and groaned. She gave up on the gun, as she gripped the dresser’s edge for support, gasping in as much pain as she’d previously had pleasure.
As Amita’s belly hardened like a clenching fist, Erica just shrank up against the wall in a mix of surprise and terror, her phone completely forgotten. Amita let out a grunt and pitched forward, and I caught her by her shoulders and steered her towards the bed. She bounced lightly, curling around her swollen belly in what was almost a fetal position.
All that motion moved one of Amita’s eggs into position just above her birth canal, and her eyes widened in surprise as she felt its tip begin to part its cervix, even more surprised than by her sudden labor as the egg began opening her from within. Erica stood up and took a couple steps towards the bed, still naked but staring in a mixture of horror and curiosity as her friend thrashed on the bed.
Amita rolled onto her back as the next contraction hit, relentlessly hammering the egg’s tip into her cervix and forcing her open from inside. She let out a shriek as her cervix was forced open despite her body’s best efforts, tapering off into a moan as her body surrendered, letting the egg’s body through her cervix the rest of the way and down into the top of her vagina.
Once the egg entered her birth canal, Amita’s eyes widened in shock as her pain was instantly replaced by pleasure, the contraction making her writhe in electrifying orgasm as her labor pushed the egg farther down into her birth canal. It took only seconds before her dark brown vulva began to dilate, turning first into a dark tunnel and then swelling as the pearly white egg slid down into a crowning position. Up until the egg was visible, Erica’s attention was on her friend’s face, but as Amita’s first egg emerged from her vulva, the nude co-ed stepped closer, her trembling hands reaching out the egg before Amita even finished birthing.
Amita’s last push left the egg to drop free of her vagina, and Erica grabbed it the second it hit the sheets.
“That came out of me?” Amita asked incredulously – but then she was even more surprised when Erica turned her back on her and practically jumped into the other bed, cradling the egg she’d just laid.
“Erica? Erica, what the fuck?” she asked.
Her next contraction only hurt halfway through, when her next egg slipped into place and rewarded her with the constant orgasm of delivery. The egg slid through her birth canal rapidly, then she struggled to raise her head and look at Erica. Her friend had stopped fondling the egg and was now stroking her pussy with it, lining up the longer end and using it to part her slit.
“Erica? This is worse than the time I caught you playing with my – unnngh!”
Amita’s next egg had taken her focus, and by the time she finished delivering that, Erica had escalated to fucking herself with the egg,moaning in pleasure as she insistently attacked her own vagina over and over, pushing the egg’s tip deeper and deeper with each thrust.
“It’s not worth talking,” I told Amita, “she can’t hear you. The only thing she cares about in this world now is that egg.”
Amita looked at me in disbelief for a moment, before pain and pleasure resumed their alternating dance across her face. By the time the Indian girl had laid her last egg, Erica had managed to fully impregnate herself, the egg shoved well past the point where she could reach it with her fingers. Now the brunette was lying back in the bed, her legs closed as she bucked her hips in the air, continuing to extract orgasm after orgasm from the sensations as her vagina kept contracting, drawing the egg farther and farther up inside her.
Amita panted in exhaustion, beads of sweat running down the curves of her nude body as she watched her friend’s impregnation finalize itself, a tiny bump showing just under Erica’s belly button as her uterus expanded to accommodate the egg.
My own attention was on Amita – I’d never really taken the time to watch the aftermath of egg laying, and Amita’s belly was slowly flattening back out to its original shape even before she’d finished catching her breath.
Amita turned to me. “Level with me, Brad. Did you drug us? Am I tripping? Because that didn’t just happen.”
I sighed. “The only drugs here are my pheromones, and your pre-programmed responses to them. What did just happen, is that you and I made about six babies, and your roommate’s instincts made her impregnate herself with one of them. Technically, Erica’s going to have your baby in nine months.”
Amita’s mouth creased into a smirk as she said, “This is sounding like a pervy internet story. The kind I like.”
I furrowed my brow a little, hoping that I wouldn’t get much more into that, as I continued. “Women are driven to fuck me. Then they get pregnant with eggs like you did, and any other women who smell the egg phermones are just as driven to impregnate themselves with the eggs.” I paused for a moment, then pointed at the neat pile of eggs I’d made at the foot of the bed. “You can carry one too if you want – you’re immune from the scent pheromones, but if you start pushing it in, you’ll have the same orgasm she did.”
Amita sat up a bit, wrinkling her nose just slightly as some leftover fluid drained from her vagina. “You must pay a fortune in child support.”
I smiled wryly, my voice was tinged with regret as I replied, “Actually, no one remembers. They’ll all assume this happened the old fashioned way. This whole ‘forget the Progenitor’ instinct is why there’s no historical record of a Progenitor, even though I’m the 20th one so far.”
Amita leaned forward and picked up one of her eggs, peering at its firm but pliant leathery shell. “Pregnant?” she asked. “Nine months, morning sickness, ends in screaming, pushing, and a baby?”
I nodded.
She smirked wickedly and looked up at me. “Then fuck me again,” she said. “I want more eggs. Enough for all my house sisters.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You want to impregnate your entire sorority?”
“Well… I hate to mention it, but – this is my kink, no shit. Pregnancy and birth have made me wet since before I even really understood what that meant. I thought I’d get it out of my system by studying to be an OB/GYN, but it just makes me think about being in the chair myself, pushing. Knowing that every push makes it worse, but still not being able to stop it,” she explained. “There’s just something about that that gets me.”
“Interesting choice of kink,” I contributed carefully.
Amita sighed. “I didn’t choose it, and sure as hell don’t recommend it,” she opined. “My big turn-on is the thought of getting pregnant, and then the birth – and there are serious limits on how many times I can do that in one lifetime. I don’t even know what’ll happen to my sex drive once I hit menopause and I can’t picture getting pregnant every time I have sex. God, something like spanking would be so much easier to live with – but this is how I’m wired,” she complained.
“And then watching that,” she said, pointing at Erica, “is the biggest turn-on ever. Not only did she get pregnant in front of me, but with my baby – while I was pushing! There’s nothing I want now more than to get all my sisters pregnant and then take the last egg myself. Whether I remember how or why won’t matter – I’ll be pregnant, in a house full of pregnant women, and we’ll all be at the same stage… then, one after another, it’ll be time. In the end, it’ll be one a day, maybe more. Maybe…”
Amita’s words trailed off and she closed her eyes, shuddering in arousal. Her nipples had hardened, and her breasts had turned to gooseflesh from arousal. She clenched her eyes shut, turning her head from side to side in an unmistakably erotic gesture. When her eyes opened, they were full of determination.
“Yeah. This is happening,” she affirmed.
I had some serious reservations at this point. “You want to knock up all your sisters for basic sexual gratification?” I asked.
Amita’s expression darkened a bit. “There’s that, yes. But I’m also thinking that if each sister pops out a half-Indian baby, they’ll finally stop pretending I’m a Muslim suicide bomber when they’re drunk, or give me a hard time about cheeseburgers because they think all Indians are Hindu. I’m getting so sick of them treating me as less American than they are. Fuck, having kids might force them to develop some critical thinking skills. I’m doing them all a favor.”
I shrugged. “Well, right or wrong, just with the eggs here, there’s no way we could get ‘em out without at least some of your sisters getting pregnant anyway. Nailing them all does sound fairer, I suppose.”
Amita turned to me and matter-of-factly put both hands on her hips. “Now, about that next fuck of ours…?” she asked
Amita looked down again at her taut belly, which now looked about 6 months along.

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