She was more emotionally crushed about being in some sort of sexual free-fall than worried about the nude contact, so she buried her face in Katherine's neck and started to sob.Christine never let herself cry, or at least she very, very rarely did. So even though her body trembled and she made sobbing noises, no tears actually ran down her cheeks. But although she had the self-control not to shed tears, that didn't mean that she wasn't emotionally agitated. Yet, despite her distress, her constant horny buzz was as strong as ever.Katherine thought, Dear God, give me strength! Gotta keep this platonic! But damn, Christine feels too soft and wonderful to resist. It's like I'm drowning in tit-flesh here! And she's so distraught that she doesn't realize the way her hard nipples are digging into my skin. But if I do anything but just hold her close, she's gonna totally freak out!Amy was trying to heed Katherine's non-verbal advice and tone things down. After also standing up, she suggested. ”“Well -- Walter and I will be on our way.”“Thanks for looking after Li’l Annette, Mom,” I said.“Oh, any time. I’ll happily make time to watch her.” My mother hugged Andrea.“See you later, son,” Walter said and they headed out the door.“Can you see if Annette needs to be changed?” Andrea asked. “I have a chicken stir-fry recipe I want to try. It should go together pretty quickly. I have some rice started.”“Sure.” I looked into the cradle. Annette was reaching for some colorful wooden beads strung across the top. I picked her up and carried her upstairs.“She sure needed changing,” I said. “We should ask Santa for a baby carrier so she can join us at the table when we have dinner.”“Can you put in a word? Mrs Claus has been pestering me with Christmas gift ideas.”“Mrs Claus being my mom.”“Who else?” Andrea set plates on the kitchen table. I put Annette in the cradle and she resumed her fascination with the colorful beads.I opened a couple bottles of Molson, set one at each of our places.
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