Impregnating My Mother Novels & Stories

The fire I'd managed to suppress for the past few days suddenly reignited in my crotch, and I felt like I had to finish what I hadn't managed to finish with her that day. "I've been feeling terrible these past few days, Mom, but Rina won't even let me touch her… I really can't take it anymore… "Do you think I'll eventually die if my condition continues worsening like this?" I asked, looking at her with an aggrieved expression.

My own mother, for instance, was a headache that no amount of mountain ale could dull. Standing outside the Silverwood Medical Wing an hour later, I looked up at the stone arches, rehearsing my defense. If Grant’s mother was a wildfire, mine was a slow-acting poison—self-destructive and bitter. I took a deep breath and pushed through the heavy doors. My mother was in the middle of her physical therapy session. The healers were working on her leg, trying to restore the muscle that had atrophied during her long stint in the lowlands. She didn't notice me at first, her face twisted in a mask of concentration. It wasn't until I helped her back to her private ward that she sensed the shift in my

she repeated after me, and I pulled her into my embrace, pressing an endearing kiss to her lips. "That's right," I whispered, stroking her silver hair as she melted into me. ... "You look haunted." I looked up at the sound of my mother's voice. She'd just stepped into my study. She had another flask with her. Another decoction she'd probably prepared for me. I could almost taste the bitter flavour. "You're early," I mumbled, and she smiled, placing the flask on my desk before she proceeded to take off her coat and place it on the empty chair.

“Jonathan, I was wrong. I really know that now. Could you forgive me this time? “My mother’s old. She can’t handle any more stress. Besides, I already lost my job. If this keeps going, my family and I will be done for. “Could you speak up for me and my mother online? Jonathan, I’m begging you.” I was indifferent. “What does this have to do with me? You and your mother caused this trouble.” Amelia was upset with my indifferent treatment toward her. She stepped closer and anxiously said, “Jonathan, how could you say that? We’re supposed to spend our lives together.”

She looked dazed, and she smelled crazily addictive because of her arousal. "Mother, don't walk in here," I said huskily before she could. "Why?" She asked through our mind-link as I looked at my erection. "I hope you aren't bullying Tamara like you did in the ...," "Mother, do you know what mates do after being apart for a very long time? If you don't, then please be my guest and walk in. But don't freak out over what you will see," I warned through our mind-link. "Oh my, I see. Please don't mind me, I'll quickly go back," she answered after gasping and then giggled.

“Mother. This girl smelled like Vanilla and apple pie.” “What?” My mother tried to stifle her laughter, “Apple pie?” I knew my mother was a hopelessly romantic person, “Mother!” “Yes, son.” I held her by her shoulders, “I think I have found my mate.” Before she could say anything else I added, “This crying girl is my mate.”

Slowly, a guard lifted me off the floor, and then, in the next place, I saw myself in the confines of my room. "Sweetheart, I promise we will find you another Mate,” my mom whispered into my ear as she smoothed my hair. “I don’t want a mate. Stop it!” I moved away from her to the other side of the bed. “Oh Honey. I know you are hurting, but you would not be without a mate,” my mother muttered. I can already imagine the look of pain on her face. I am moved to turn. To soothe her pain, but today I want to be selfish.

The room was a cocoon of dark wood and soft lighting, the air thick with the scent of expensive cigars and aged whiskey. I sank into a leather armchair, closing my eyes for a moment. The memories of my mother flooded back—her laughter, her wisdom, the way she could make everything seem possible. She had believed in me, even when I doubted myself. Her strength had been my foundation, and now that it was gone, I felt adrift.

He said you'll come back when you recover your memories, but you no longer want me even though you remember me! He continued, "Granny told me that Mommy had a hard time when you were having me. I was being too naughty back then, I even made you angry countless times." I looked down at Julian and said, "Never wait until you lose something to realize its value, Juli." He tearfully hugged my legs and asked, "Did I lose you already, Mommy?" I replied, "This is the last lesson I will give you as your mother. I hope you never speak harshly to those you love or who love you. You have to learn to respect others, and they'll respect you in return. People leave when they're hurt."