Novel & Cerita Impregnating Mom Stories

“Mom, you don’t need to be so humble! “You raised me all these years. I’d be an ungrateful daughter if I allowed an outsider to offend you! “Between getting married and doing what’s right, which one do you think is more important to me?” Emerald’s heart skipped a beat, but she could not force a smile.

"Emma, your surprise is going to make tomorrow the most perfect wedding anyone could ever have." Finally feeling sleepy, I let Mommy tuck me into bed with extra dolphin stuffed animals and the promise that tomorrow will be magical in every possible way. "Mommy, will you tell me one more story about Romano family love before I fall asleep?" "What kind of story?" "Tell me the story about how you and Daddy learned that choosing each other every day is more important than just feeling love feelings."

"Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?" Mom gave a defeated shrug, her eyes trained on our overlapping hands that rested on her tummy. "Pregnant women really get... that." I could feel a lump in my throat, but I forced my words to go around it. "Hor-ny?" Mom nodded sadly. "God, this is so pathetic. What kind of mother tells this kind of stuff to her son?" I gave her hand an empathetic squeeze, using the stability to steady its tremble. "The kind with a son who wants to listen. I love that we tell each other everything, even if it's weird."

Also, whose 'Mom' and 'Dad'—" Before I could finish my question, I caught the look on the couple’s face. Their eyes were filled with a complex mix of emotions. Then, the woman suddenly rushed toward me, as though driven by some frantic impulse. "I’m your mom! We were wrong, we know it. Please don’t deny me. Don’t you remember me, your mother?" I watched her frantic behavior with an ache in my heart. It seemed like a grieving mother who had lost her child. But even so, she shouldn’t just randomly claim to be my mother. I quickly stepped back and hid behind Miriam. "Are they out of their minds? I told you not to let strangers in. What if they go crazy and start attacking people?" I whispered u

Were in the same boat, after all, we don’t want this marriage to happen. ~ “Honey!” As my mother entered the dining area, she could not restrain herself from running toward and hugging me. “How are you baby, why do you have bags under your eyes?” She cups my face using her both hands. I look at my grandfather who is now sitting on the other side of the table, busy talking to Aston’s father. “I’m fine, Mom, you don’t have to worry about me. I just can’t sleep because the room is new for me, but everything is fine so far.”

“Mother, you are grounding me for a week because of this cheap thing?” Marriott cried again, pointing at her hand Scarlet and at the same time facing her mother. “I won’t take it lightly with you Marriott if you dare insult my grandchild again!” Mrs. Browns warned, her eyes darkened at her daughter. Marriott gulped won fearfully as she calmed down but she turned her head to Scarlet and says, “You will pay dearly for this.” And with that, she stormed back to the house.

He wasn't saying anything, so I took that as a cue to continue sharing my story. "My mom was once the queen of the entire Faerie kingdom. Since I was only a child, I didn't know much about royalty or politics, but there was one thing that I was sure of—my mom was a great queen. She was humble; she created programs that benefited the masses; and she never once looked down on her people. In my opinion, she was just perfect."

Mum said suddenly, slicing through the moment like a blade. I froze. Completely. Love story? Already? She had stepped into the house barely a minute ago, and she wanted romance details? My mother was relentless. She didn’t ease into conversations—she attacked them headfirst. “Mum,” I groaned lightly, trying to keep my tone playful. “Stop it. You just got here. You shouldn’t be asking about this now.” I had no story prepared, nothing rehearsed. One wrong sentence, one mismatched detail, and she’d tear the whole lie apart like tissue paper.

Under the photo was a voice message. "Kyla, look at this!" Mom's voice exploded through the quiet room. "Is Bruce cheating on you? Don't be stupid!" Then she forwarded an article. [Don't Forgive a Cheater During Postpartum Recovery: Once a Cheater, Always a Cheater.] Every word screamed divorce. I tightened my grip on my phone as cold spread through my body. *** Ever since I was a kid, Mom kept saying we were broke. As the older sister, I had to sacrifice more.

I confess, plopping on my bed in frustration. My room is a gothic fantasy inspired thanks to Mom and her obsessions with fairytales. Mom loved to read me fairytales at night time. Some she made up; others were real stories in books. Mom was fantastic at engaging me in the story. Sometimes she would do different voices or act it out. I looked forward to it every night. I’d get lost in the fairytales of princesses, heroes, spells, and true love. I always saw my parents' love story as a dark fairytale that inspires me to have something unique and special like theirs.