Crossdressed By Mom Novels & Stories

I tucked away my phone and put on my best smile. “Mom!” I bumped into the counter and hurt my thigh. Ouch! My mother looked around the store and lingered on the walls of different-sized dildos. Kill me now! “W-What are you doing here? How did you find my store!” She turned to me and folded her hands over her chest. My mother was a privileged, classy and educated woman, but she was also the pack’s badest warrior. She was dressed in black fitted jeans, a white tank top, and a leather jacket.

when I was alive. It didn't take long before our relatives swarmed out of Aunt Gabriella's house. Mom was at the very front. Her hair was a mess, and she had lost a shoe. Her normally neat and tidy clothes were stained with snow and mud. Gone was the woman who prioritized her reputation above all else and was terrified of being ridiculed. She collapsed next to the icy river and stared at my body. She became as still as a statue. She didn't cry. She simply stared unblinkingly at me. Her lips trembled, but she didn't say a word.

Me: "Mom, you slapped me, but I will not hit you...ever. I love you mom. I want you to go thru with this...I want you nude mom, NUDE!! Get those clothes off or they will be torn off and you can leave at the end of the weekend in a rain barrel." Mom quickly stripped, folding the clothes neatly on a chair. She covered her perfect breasts with one hand, and her welcoming furry blonde bush with the other. My clothes were history in seconds, my cock instantly hard as stone. In desperation, mom saw a box of Trojans and removed a foil wrapped condom. Me: "Mom, I don't intend to wear a condom; we will make love bareback. If you want, you can put that one on me. It should look cute."

she laughed, “I need to change.” He did so quickly. Behind him he heard the soft crump of the towel hitting the floor and then the swish of material on skin as his Mom slipped into the dress. “You can look again,” she said and he automatically turned. “Ta-dah,” she posed, her arms outstretched like she was modelling. The dress was even tighter and more revealing than he remembered; no wonder she wore it when she was out when single, and she was single now, even if she wouldn’t show it tonight (at least he hoped not, if there was anything more embarrassing than pretending to be your Mom’s lover, it was pretending to be her lover whilst she flirted with another guy). “What do you think? I come

I heard him mutter, causing me to smile, “So, you and Mom are going out tonight?” I asked; he nodded, clearly nervous. “Don’t be nervous, Dad. Just be yourself.” He patted my head like he used to when I was a kid. He was about to say something when he was captivated by something behind me. I turned around to see Mom in her red dress; it was the dress she wore on their first date. The dress was a spaghetti strap, a knee-length dress with a sweetheart neckline; it was simple, nothing extravagant, but still stunning. She paired the dress with her beige sandals purse. She had even curled her hair and put on some makeup. Mom never wears makeup or curls her hair. She always told me that a woman’s

Minus the white dress, plus the scent of antiseptic, and one pale pink dress I wore with the enthusiasm of someone being stabbed by an acupuncture needle. “No complaining,” Mom said as we stepped out of the family car and walked toward the entrance of a private hospital that felt way too sterile for my taste. “That’s a good dress. That color makes you look less like a demon.” “I like looking like a demon,” I muttered, adjusting the tiny strap on my shoulder. Papa, who had been calmly walking beside me with one hand in his blazer pocket and the other looped around mine, chuckled. “You still look beautiful, sweetheart. Even if you look like you’re being held hostage.”

I didn't know how I was going to do it, but then, I'll surely storm into Grandpa's apartment and win my man. Fourteen hours later, I dropped a peck on Waylen's cheek as I got up from my bed, about to open the door when I bumped into my mom, her hand raised in a way that she was about to plant a knock on the door. "Mom?" I called, wondering why she looked so different; I mean, my mom has never dressed this way. The last time she dressed extravagantly was during Waylen's christening day.

her mother said " No mom we are just friends and that's it " " Ok then as long my dress is here i don't care how you got it " Cristina just nodded

As I stood in front of my mother, her sharp gaze scrutinizing me, I felt a pang of anxiety. "Petal, why are you wearing the same dress? And why didn’t you get changed?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. I swallowed hard, forcing a small smile onto my lips. "Mom, when I went to change, my dress was in the laundry, so I wasn’t able to. Aunt gave this dress to me as a gift," I lied effortlessly, hoping she wouldn't probe further.

Just as I finished dressing, the door creaked open and my mom stepped inside. When our eyes met, her smile vanished, replaced by a fierce glare. "What the hell are you wearing? Are you blind? Didn’t you see the dress on the bed?" I shot back, "Mom, I saw the dress. I don’t know who it belongs to. Why should I wear it?" Her teeth ground together in frustration. She lunged forward, yanking at my clothes with disdain. "Take off that rag! We have an important visitor who can change our lives. Don’t mess this up for our family, Lana. If you do, you won’t just be a