She smiled and wiped her face and eyes. Standing up, she reached behind and undid the lacy bow that kept her dress on. Her cheeks grew red as she arched her shoulders and let it fall away.
I stood transfixed; she wore nothing beneath the dress, and the porcelain perfection of her skin glowed in the lamplight. Her breasts were fuller than I had imagined, still barely a handful. They artfully sloped from her chest, and her bright pink n*****s stood at attention. She smiled as she continued to blush and crossed her legs slightly to hide the baldness between her legs.
One, unknown fact about my mother, something that she has shared with me, is that she had never grown pubic hair. Her body seemed locked in this prepubescent state. She didn’t even own a razor.
She came to me, graceful as alwa
