Mila was not a remarkable woman. She had black hair that suggested Tarter blood but baby blue eyes and porcelain white skin. Largely bland, her breasts were 34B's, sizable but not the largest. She was proud of her pointed nipples which were upturned and pointed away from her chest on 45 degree angles. They bounced if wobbled enough, the rest of her body was feminine with a rather flat ass.
At 39 nearing 40 she needed to catch a man and get pregnant. This baby would keep her in Trumps America. Pregnancy had been difficult for her, Danny was engaged to her but the wedding kept getting put off. Her new man was missing half of his left leg and his fucking was more like someone trying to punch her than love her. But he had knocked her up and she was in month 8th.
Pregnancy had swelled her breasts to C cups and her stomach had expanded to the full size from her 29" waist to 43". Her body felt like it was infected with some kind of pathogen, maternal feelings were not important to her. That US passport was more important. She wasn't even interested in names, although Maya (her mother) was something she would use if Danny had lost interest in her.
In Russian she cursed her age, she was too old for this shit. Russian, German, English she had learned that human thoughts were broadly universal. Crows feet were appearing around her eyes and she had lost her contacts so she needed ugly black framed drug store glasses. She knew she needed to keep her skin moist lest she be haunted by stretch marks with this second, and most hated, pregnancy. Where was that damn bottle then she saw a new one .
She could see that it was some kind potion with a nozzle at the end for spraying. She picked it up and looked at it carefully. It was filled with a milky-white substance which was giving off a relaxing fragrance....