The store was nearly empty now, the hum of Christmas carols fading into the background as the staff prepared to lock up for the night. Her son was awake. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice soft, her lips brushing against his temple. One fell anyway, coursing down her cheek. “Is this how you want to say goodbye?”
Her mind tumbled with desires and doubts and anticipation. “Oh God…” she moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. “I’m sure.”
With that, Peter lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the couch. For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze sweeping over her body, drinking in every detail. I think she might like me too.” His voice was light, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his tone. She wanted this, needed this, to be their final Christmas memory together before he left for college. And the beast was in heat. Board games? Her back arched, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts, urging him deeper.
