I stood up, pulled down my pajama pants, leaned into him and whispered hoarsely, "Fuck me... now."I pulled him against me and walked him backwards tow...rds my bed. I fell backwards onto the mattress and pulled him on top of me. Our lips met again, and my body was getting hotter by the second. I reached around him and began scratching his back with my nails; he responded by pressing his lips harder into mine before moving his kisses down my neck, towards my collar bone. His hand then moved around. From our bedroom Marie was noisily signalling that she was ready for bed and would not be seeing the New Year in, let alone come out dancing with me. I sighed to myself at memories of parties I had been to back in Europe, of standing outside in the freezing cold as the clock chimed midnight. I contemplated the vest top and faded pyjama bottoms I was now wearing, remembered that it was 26C and unlikely to snow, and sadly concluded I was a latter day Cinderella.I had been messaging my friend in. I so wanted to reach down and touch it. My cunt needed to be touched. The unmistakable milk aroma rose up and I instantly got wet. I was sure my jeans would show the evidence of my arousal. I was going to head to the bathroom to get off when she asked me for a glass of water. I was relived for a moment to move away. Dirty thoughts raced in and out of my head. With my back turned, I ran a hand over my tits and squeezed one. When I returned with the water, she had covered herself up. I'd known that before, but it had somehow been hidden from me. But now, the memories were returning, tumbling free as the walls around them crumbled before the tide of energy my mother fed me with each climax. Of which, there were many. I realized Mom was right when she said we could control our appearance. Of course she was. Damned Brianna and her damn veils. The cock I was slamming so furiously into my mother's tight cunt grew with each thrust. I couldn't see the change, but suddenly her.