Mom Son Making Novels & Stories

Typical rich people problems. That’s what was on my mind as I sliced eggplant in the kitchen. Manang Dores said we were cooking shrimp sinigang, the kids’ favorite. Maybe this would be a good way to show them that I can cook and, if a miracle happens, maybe they’ll start to like me.

Mom replies with every intention of making dad angry. "Ekatherina!" "You know I'm joking, but even so, you're dangerous; don't forget that." "We're back." I inform them, clearing my throat when I see dad seems about to devour mom on the couch. They both jump and, when they realize I'm here with my bonbon, mom blushes a little. "I thought you'd arrive a little later, my love." Mom says, standing up with dad's help. "Yelizaveta Belucci! What is the meaning of this?" Dad roars, his face turning a nice shade of maroon.

On the day of the topping-out ceremony for the resettlement housing, my mother, Diana Knowles, insists on reporting me to the authorities for shoddy workmanship. It's all because my cousin, Marco Sanford, went to play at the construction site, stepped into the freshly set cement, and scraped his knee. "You think you're so great just because you built a couple of buildings?" Mom screams at me. "I can't just stand by and watch you put the whole town in danger just to make millions of dollars by pocketing the difference!" Marco clutches his bandage and explains quietly, "It's all my fault for climbing over the fence to play there, Aunt Diana. The construction workers even tried to stop me.

As I hung up mom said, "Your dad is leaving this afternoon and mommy intends to keep her little boy busy tonight. Keep that in mind while you are spreading pollen over at Monica's" Monica was lying in the middle of her bed fucking herself with a large dildo when I got there. She looked up at me and smiled, "Just getting it heated up for you so we don't have to waste time on foreplay. Come on over here and give me the real thing." I had to run like hell to get to class on time.

, I said, my lips almost tearing apart for smiling too hard. " You're welcome dear", mom said. " Mom?" " What is it?" she rolled her eyes, chewing what was in her mouth. " You're not dad". " Says who? I and your father are one", she said, mimicking the voice of the monkey priest in The Lion King movie. We burst out in laughter. The sound of laughter made the aroma of the pancake more pleasing.

There is only a truly happiness. Yeah, she's to be just the way she is. When the afternoon comes, all the tiredness is apart from Lucrecia's shoulders. When she picks up her son from her parent's house. "Mommy!" Xavier shouts releasing himself from his grandma's arms and move for hugging his Mom, Lucrecia. "Ouh... My little hero, are you ready to back home?" Lucrecia asks excitedly to her son. "Hum, but later, we'll buy grilled sausages, okay?" She nods off at once for her son's request.

“I made you some soup.” Mason continued in a low voice, “I made this for you because you’re pregnant.” Queenie’s eyes lit up at his words. Mason had made soup for her! She had to have some! “What are you waiting for, Mom? Get some for me.” Pamela snapped out of it when Queenie said that. She quickly smiled as she brought over a bowl and spoon. She happily scooped some of the soup out for Queenie. Mason treated her really well.

She could pass as an elder sister to me. "Hi mom, what are you making?" I asked, strolling towards her. "I am making spaghetti carbonara," she simply replied and turned to her pan. My eyes twinkled and I looked over her shoulders to see her stirring the delicacy she just made. I was thinking she just started not knowing she was done with it. "That's something new, I am so going to love this. Too bad Zain is not at home, " I stated sadly. My mom's gaze softened at my words and she came near me and gently put her hands on my cheeks,

The weight of my father’s earlier words slid to the back of my mind, dissolving like smoke. I followed his gaze out the window, curious about what held his attention so intently. The glass framed a long, winding path leading into a lush, secluded garden, a place I’d never explored since arriving here. “That was my mother’s favorite part of the house,” he said suddenly, his voice low and steady. I drew in a deep, quiet breath, afraid to break the moment and make him stop talking.

Mom frowned and set some of the things down. “Ray, can you hear me?” Still no reply. Growing impatient, Mom reached the door to push it open. It wasn’t locked, only slightly ajar. She pushed it open wider and peered inside. In an instant, her expression froze.