Got MILF? by Laura Lovecraft

dress when he pulled the meal off the stove, and he wore a pair of soft trousers made of deerskin, almost sinfully tight around his thighs and calves. Above was a white shirt made of undyed cotton. Over that, one of the embroidered vests which she had given to him in the first days of his stay here in the World Below.
    Polina wore a dress that was almost stark in its simplicity, pure white from her neck to her knees. But delicate embroidery in silver and ivory graced the hems at throat, wrist, and knee, giving it a vaguely Celtic feel.
    She was also, Bill noted idly, not wearing a bra. He wondered if he should introduce her to the garment. Mother Snegurochka might thank him later.
    He pulled out her chair and seated her, then sat down opposite her in the small dining room. Working carefully, he poured a quantity of wine into a crystal glass, then spooned her meal onto her plate.
    She frowned and looked at it suspiciously. “What is this?” she asked, poking one portion.
    “Rice,” he said, “It is a grain gown far to the south of here.”
    “And this?” she said, prodding another part.
    “That is shrimp. It lives in the ocean.”
    “Ah!” she said triumphantly, “This I know!” She waved a bit of meat on her fork. “This is pork!” She bit down and chewed happily, then her eyes widened. She took a quick sip of wine. “Spicy!”
    Bill grinned. “It is a meal called jambalaya. People in the south of my country make it. I learned how from a friend of mine who I went to school with. Do you like it?”
    Polina took another small bite and nodded. “It is very nice. It just takes a bit of getting used to.”
    “Sounds a lot like my life right now,” Bill grinned, and Polina laughed.
    Bill relaxed more and more as the meal went on. He was relieved to see that the astonishing changes in Polina's appearance were not reflected in her personality. She was the same person who had saved him from death and who had soothed his fears when he woke, lonely and terrified. Although she appeared to be only a year or two younger than himself, at times he caught glimpses of the deep wisdom and sadness of a being who had lived for centuries.
    ~~~~~
    The meal was finished, the wine drunk. Bill carried the dishes to the sink to wash up later. When he returned to the dining room Polina was standing. Her eyes were bright and eager, her lips parted.
    “Bill, can we go to bed? I would like to make love to you,” she said.
    Well, at least she is trying to do it right, he thought, over the scream of terror and joy that sounded in his brain.
    “Polina, are you sure?” his foolish mouth asked.
    She stepped into his arms. She was trembling. With fear or desire, he couldn't tell. He put his arms around her for comfort and held her, astonished as always to find how small she was. Her breasts were firm against his chest. She spoke softly, cool breath raising goosebumps on his chest.
    “I forgot what it was like. My creators, bless and damn them, couldn't imagine a young woman who wasn't also governed by lust. So the Snow Maid is like a mare who is perpetually in heat. The maid who is also a wanton. Do you understand?” she asked, pulling away to look up at his face. For the first time in his memory, her pale face was flushed.
    “I have no choice in the matter. Damn them all, I don't really want a choice. Not when she is upon me and you are here. The Snow Maid wants a man. I want a man. I need a man. I want you. I need you, Bill Carter. Thank the High One he brought you to me.” She raised herself on her toes, cold lips brushing his.
    “Make love to me, please?”
    Without words, Bill took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. Hand in hand, they walked out of the kitchen, and Polina led him to the one place in the house he had never gone.
    Her bedroom.
    As soon as they were across the threshold she leaped into his arms. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and the firm globes of her breasts pressed against his chest as her