How Old Is Your Mama Novels & Stories

“You really don’t look like someone who’s given birth to a child.” Norman shrugged. “That’s normal. My mother gave birth to me at the age of 20. She claims that the earlier a woman gives birth, the faster her body recovers. You saw her the other night, didn’t you? Does she look like a woman who’s in her 40s to you? My dad’s 57 years old this year, so whenever he brings her out to social events, others usually think that she’s his mistress instead of his wife.” The corners of everyone’s mouths twitched.

My mother sat up straight, staring at the window head tilted as if she stared at the stars and I slowly approached her. She turned her head to me and watched me, eyes going over me as she took me in and I waited for her evaluation with shallow breaths. "How… old are you?" she huffed in her question, smiling and causing me to laugh nervously. "How old am I?" she asked with widened eyes, this time looking frightened. "I'm twenty-four and you're…" she lifted her fingers to count and with each finger she passed her eyes grew larger. " Forty-six. Holy shit."

“I-It's nothing. It's just the flu.” “Nothing?” The guy scoffs and playfully squeezes the side of my waist. “She's trying to impress you, Mamma. She could barely get out of bed the other night.” “That sounds terrible.” Mamma? Does he always call his stepmom 'mamma'? It sounds a little weird. Just because she looks only ten years older than him. This woman's already in her 50s, but she looks 40 even with minimal makeup. It's not the Botox, though. Just genetics. It's pretty obvious why people gravitate towards her, even winning her the local elections twice.

Perky mother and son. *All characters in this story are above the age of 18 years old. this story contains no under-age roleplay.* Enjoy. ****** At 18 years old, I was in my senior year of high school. I am 5'11", weigh 150 lbs, and have an athletic body toned from years of running track. I take after my mother by having blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. My mother was 37 years old and had an amazing full-bodied figure with large breasts, an ample ass, and an adorable face. She had a natural bubbly personality with a near-constant smile on her face. To say that I was hopelessly in love with her was an understatement.

I quickened my pace, joining others in trooping into the building. After lectures, I went to a pharmacy to get Mammà’s supplements. Apparently, she'd entered menopause—a fact that took me by surprise since she was only forty-three. But I needed not to shake…much. If I could remember my middle school science classes clearly, forty-five was the average age for menopause. Some women began theirs earlier. So, there. Mammà was normal. A teeny weeny part of me teared up though. The reason being that Mammà was getting old. I got the items and headed home. Mammà wasn't in her room, so I placed the medication on her bed. As it was almost six, I guessed she was with the chef.

“But Mom, hasn’t grandmother already entered menopause? I mean, she’s really old.” “She’s only fifty-nine years old,” my mom says, like that explains everything. “Only fifty-nine?” I practically shout. “Mom, fifty-nine is not young! How does a fifty-nine-year-old woman give birth to a baby? That’s not normal!” My mom’s face changes immediately, and I can see that she’s getting angry with me. “Don’t talk about your grandmother like that, Tara. She’s still my mother, and you need to show some respect.” I shut my mouth and tried to process this information. My grandmother, who I thought was way too old to have babies, apparently just had one. This is the most bizarre news I’ve ever heard in my

"As for the headache, um, so far everything is tolerable up to this moment." The old man let out a crispy laugh before disengaging his hand on hers. It was then Helena turned into Chloe, smiled and cocooned her into a warm, affectionate embrace. Chloe slightly flinched because she didn't expect it. Afterwards, her mother-in-law pulled away from their hug and gaze at her. The fondness in the old woman's eyes was too sincere to withstand. Her being intimidated earlier was now gone, making her realize that his parents were warm, nice, and kind people.

“I do not know. It is not signed.” “Really? How long do you think you can keep this up?” “What?” It earned her a dry look from her mother. “Ella, I might be one year older tomorrow, but I am not senile. Everything adds up to a new man in your life. And I am happy for you. After all, you are twenty six.” “Mm-hmm.” A safe, non-committal reply. “You can tell me all about him you know,” said her mother with an indulgent smile.

, I said busting out in tears because I didn't understand the present situation I was in. I have a stressful day at work and I come back to see my house empty. "Oh dear, I really don't know what you are talking about", Mama Maggie said. I could see the waves in her forehead as they squeezed, her cheeks sag more than usual in pity. Mama Maggie is an old gray haired lady in her late 60s. Her back is slightly hunched due to old age, and she also has this brown long stick that aids in her walk and to scold her grand children when they come to visit. Her walking pace is usually slow and only the patient once can wait on her. She looks much younger from afar until she is at arms length.

Everything about this house was so happy, and I had often wondered if it was a truth or a lie. Mama had been only nineteen when she had had Dom and twenty-three when she had had me. Her young age and lack of experience in the outer world had always given Papa an advantage, an upper hand on all of us, especially on her, and eleven years ago, after Papa had died, it was as though Mama had broken free of the thick shackles binding her for all these years.