Mom Age Regression Mga Nobela at Kwento

In the guest cottage, I watched through the window as Mom's Buick finally drove away down the driveway. I touched my stomach gently beneath my sweater, feeling the quiet, invisible life growing inside me. The trap was locked tightly from the outside, but as I turned back to the dark room, I knew one thing for certain: They thought they were breaking a helpless girl. They had no idea they were building a mother with nothing left to lose.

“You’re getting older. Consider it a present from me.” “A present?” Emily whispered. “You’re signing me up to be humiliated on national television.” “I’m tired of being a laughing stock here,” her mother snapped. “I need grandchildren too. At your age, I had already given birth to all my children.” “Children you could barely feed,” Emily muttered under her breath. “You are twenty-eight—” “Twenty-seven,” Emily corrected automatically. “The same thing,” her mother said sharply. “And you’ve never brought a date home. I’ve left this in your hands long enough. Now I take control. No excuses.”

She hauled bricks at a construction site, washed dishes at a restaurant, worked herself to bleeding hands just to keep food on the table. Dad was satisfied. The second time he pretended to be disfigured. Third time, a terminal illness. Fourth time, a lowlife gangster. Fifth time, and on and on. Ninety-nine times. Each time, Mom fell in love with him all over again. Dad thought that was love. But Mom had told me once: her love used to be so full. Now it had been worn down to almost nothing. By the time Dad had broken her completely, she finally understood the truth. A system had been controlling her all along. She was on a mission to "redeem the villain."

“That?” “Oh my God, mom. You are 38 going on 39, not 38 going on 60. You’d look hot in that outfit and I’m sure Bobby will love to show you off to his mom.” Jackie had to give it to Sam, she was probably right. The last mother she met was Greg’s and she was a stuffy older woman who frowned upon Jackie anyway and she was just trying not to repeat that same horrible meeting.

It was bad enough her ass was dangerously close to my crotch. "Hmmm." Mom cooed. "You feel nice." "Umm, thanks." I said lamely. "Been awhile since I've had somebody to lie next to." She sighed. "And who knows how long since it was someone who wanted to be next to me." As she spoke she turned her head to the side so that she was looking up at me. Our faces were only about a foot apart, and I found myself marveling at how young she looked. Of course in reality she certainly wasn't old. Mom had met my father while still in high school and had gotten pregnant right after graduating. So although I was closing in on twenty one she was just shy of her thirty ninth birthday. I realized I was staring

I scratched behind his ears and carried him into the kitchen with me to feed him supper. "Hi." I greeted my mom as I entered the room. She poked her head up from the oven, and smiled. Her bun was falling in her face from all the activity, and she had worked up a little bit of a sweat. She was a curvier woman, and was starting what she considered to be premature menopause. If you asked my dad though, she just liked to keep the heat running as high as she could stand it, because she'd once heard high temperatures and hot showers could help protect aging skin.

I stood next to my mom and walked along side her. "Mummy I'm so glad you here." I professed smiling profoundly. "Me to honey, I had to do a lot of begging to come." she insinuated with a little smile on her pretty face. My mom isn't that old, she gave birth to me when she 16 years old, so she's 36 years old at the moment. "What?!" I exclaimed in surprise. "Mom I can't believe you had to beg to come to your own daughter's graduation ceremony." I fumed in anger.

“Look at me, I’m already sixty-five and I’m still strong as ever.” “I could see that.” I smiled at the thought that she’s still the best mom that I ever had. My mom’s always the greatest mother that I’ve known even though she’s not my biological mother and it makes my heart melt to know that she’s okay and that she’s not mad at me for not visiting for several years. “My legs are still tough, look at me.” She continued. She did a few cha-cha moves right in front of me. “I don’t need to be dependent on crutches. I could still run a few laps and my eyesight are still sharp.”

For some reason, he felt Dave was not well. "Mother, Mother why?" asked Regan, who was sitting beside her. "Egan asked Dali earlier, why didn't he answer?" "Ah, it's okay, Mom was just thinking about work in the office." "Mom no longer even with dad?" he asked curiously. "No really, Mother is really thinking about work in the office. I'm sorry, Mother, I ignored you." "It's okay Mother, Mother don't get too tired to work, Mother will get sick." Agneta smiled at Regan's concern. He hugged his beloved son and kissed his cheek. Regan is such a mood booster.

Another deep breath finished the job. Mom exchanged a glowing smile with Cassie, the kind that warmed her soul and promised unconditional love and support. As time went by, Mom managed to maintain the body of a much younger woman even though she was well into her fifties. Simply stunning, Mom's shoulder length black hair and blue eyes shined. Cassie's sister, Sara, looked just like Mom, and Cassie did too, but her hair and eyes were brown like their dads.