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Son shows mom he's now in charge.

The next sound she made was a short, stuttering moan as Sander pressed the palm of his hand up between her legs, through the crotch of her shorts. She shuddered, 'I don't care...'

Sander did, but in the moment he was more than willing to put his misgivings aside. His fingers had already slipped into the waistband of her shorts, and with his other hand cupping her sex, he relied on his weight against her to keep her in place against the door. Everything in him was a snarling mass of predatory hormones and heat, he found himself actively stopping himself from tearing those clothes right off of her.

'Mysterious stranger and the pretty young village girl...' He murmured, lips wandering the length of her collarbone and up her neck. 'We're only a torn bodice away from a harlequin romance novel here.'

'Yeah, probably...' She shivered, pressing her hips down onto his hand, frankly concerned that she was soaking through her shorts. 'Just... fuck...'

'Alright,' Sander winked, removing his hand from between her legs before placing both of them at either side of her waist. 'If you think you can handle me...'

He didn't give her time to reply, pulling her away from the door and, in a single fluid motion, throwing her bodily onto the bed. Amy's slight form careened over the end of the bed frame, springs squealing as did Amy herself, as she landed on her stomach. For a single moment, Sander experienced a strange feeling of dislocation; here was Amy, the sunlight making her skin and hair near luminous... A familiar sight to him, but today it was different. It was light from Earth's sun, lighting an Amy who had never been offworld, who was young, and jaded, and...

Oh, too much like him...

Still, he pounced on her, almost in the same second that he had experienced his strange feeling. He was on top of her a moment later, dragging her hips up into the air with an arm crooked under her belly. His other hand went to the back of her neck, keeping her pressed down to the mattress. All at once, his lingering desperation and isolation evaporated; this was something he understood. This was familiar, he knew how to do this. This was... what he liked...

'Blast from the fuckin' past,' He said under his breath, low enough that Amy couldn't hear it. The redhead was in the process of squirming in his grip, the soft, round curve of her ass pushing against his hips. She could feel his erection through his pants, it drove her wild. Her eyes were wide, wanting; that fiery arousal was back in earnest.

'Please...' She quavered. Sander felt his fingers tighten in her hair, possessively. Those familiar thighs tensed at his touch, her back arching, breasts pressed into the sheets. In this position her shorts were pulled tight against her backside, and Sander couldn't stop himself from running his fingers over that defined curve as they travelled up to her waistband. Amy opened her mouth to speak again, but Sander didn't give her the opportunity, yanking down the obstructive garment, down to her knees. The sight of Amy's ass, clad only in a thin, clearly well-loved pair of panties, made him want to tear those panties off with his teeth.

This was the most familiar thing he had done all day, but there was something slightly wrong with it, even so. It was the set of Amy's muscles, the tautness she exhibited, her panting breath and her stillness, like a coiled spring. It was eagerness, and that was... well, alien. Unfamiliar. It almost gave him cause to stop and think.

Almost.

Those panties came down, coming off entirely with her shorts, tossed disdainfully to the floor by a man far more interested in what they had been covering. That pert little bottom swayed in the air, a perfect moving target, just begging to, to...

Oh, just to have all the naughty things done to it...

'Do you even know why you're doing this?' Sander said, in a low voice, mostly to himself, but.

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