Ayesha took after her father and looked older for her age, though not old enough to be the mother of an eighteen-year-old. So far she was getting away...with it, but that was because she presented herself as the mother, and no one challenged her. The headmaster was used to seeing young mothers, in school and out, and so was the social worker.They had swapped passports, which meant her mom was meant to be eighteen, though the woman actually looked younger. They had got away with it at the police. She grunted under the pressure.I ground my hand up and down into her jeans. She was dropping her hips down into my mattress and pulling back up in a slow steady motion; she was humping my hand. Her legs spread wider and wider, her breathing puffed louder and louder. Her tipped head stared straight into my eyes as I was fixated on her crotch. I could feel her heated vision scanning my pupils, watching them expand as I absorbed her body.Her legs kept spreading; she was never wide enough to. More

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