The clock had long since passed midnight, its hands creeping toward the witching hour with agonizing lethargy. Priya lay sprawled across her bed, the sheets twisted around her legs like white serpents, her body glistening with a thin sheen of anticipation-induced sweat.

She had waited for him since midnight, dressed deliberately in lingerie she knew would drive him to madness a sheer black lace bra that did nothing to conceal her dark nipples, the same nipples that had transformed to produce that obscene pink milk. Matching panties, cut high on the hips and scandalously low in the front, barely contained the heat of her. She had touched herself twice already, edging closer to orgasm before forcing herself to stop, wanting to be swollen and desperate when he finally arrived.