Mother Novels & Stories

just like I was your father's mate, we were true faded mates just like you are with the quads, but I'm also faded mates with your Uncle Miles it's a blessing from the goddess Jade: wtf mom goddess what?

Something worth more than what they had done to poor Ayana. But her mother's response shattered Grace's facade of apathy, her sudden outburst catching both Mr. De’Mario and Grace off guard. The anger radiating from her mother's eyes was palpable, a stark contrast to the subdued atmosphere that had permeated the room just moments before. Grace felt a surge of shock and discomfort wash over her, her carefully constructed facade crumbling in the face of her mother's wrath.

Half of her ass cheeks hang out and she looks so hot I could just pull those shorts off and bang the shit out of her. My mother Deborah was an incredibly young looking brunette, almost blonde, and green eyes. She is thirty-eight and a woman with exceptionally long legs and very much a modern woman that still shows off her legs wearing shorter skirts than women her age would wear. I like to see my mom and high heels because her skirts or dresses get shorter, and I always try to get a peek up at her skirt or dress. I've gotten lucky several times and have seen her different colored panties.

“You can wait, Lion. Calm down a bit before you join us, okay?” In moments like these, I remember how cool my mother can be. Dad may be a hard, cold, badass where the Mafia is concerned, but it takes one hell of a woman to tame him. Her name is Amara, my Mom. With a shaky breath, I take Thorton’s hand and guide him in. Here goes nothing. XXX

I saw the pity and guilt reflecting in her eyes. "What are you talking about? What kind of mother are you to say something like that about your own child?" Mrs. Davis used her frail body to shield me as she tried to reason with Mom to make her back down. But Mom was never one to be reasoned with. Sneering, she gave me a cold glance that sent chills down my spine. As she raised her hand, Mrs. Davis still stood in front of me, perhaps unable to believe that Mom would resort to violence against her. But I knew better. Over the years, Mom had hit more women than I could count.

All the mothers and sons were described as mirror images of Mom and me. Mom is 38 years old. She has a fantastic hourglass-shaped body: perfectly round hips and bubble butt, a not-too-big but not-too-small tummy, shapely thighs, and wonderful DD breasts. Her hair is described as dirty blonde with light green eyes. Her skin has a natural tan look to it, though she loves to sunbathe by our backyard pool to keep it that way. She is beautiful, no doubt about it. She has always had a reserved personality and rarely likes to have attention drawn to her. I don't think she is shy but certainly introverted. But she has never let this get in the way of cheering for me a

“Please, Miss Felicia…” Rose whispered. “My son did nothing wrong. I'm telling you the truth.” For a moment, something moved in Felicia’s eyes. Rose couldn't tell what it was. Part pity, part doubt. “Please, leave now,” Miss Felicia said. Her voice sounded final. Rose fell to her knees. “Please, I'm a single mother. He's all that I have,” she cried. Rose’s words shook her, her heart melted as she turned to Rose. She could feel her pain.

Mary sure didn’t care for me. I giggled, tilting my head. "When I'm old, I want to be just as funny as you," I said, trying to deflect her jab. Triston held me from my waist, his eyes alert, but he didn't interfere. “Mr. Ballard,” The older woman called for him, “When will she be bearing your children. Four years of marriage and no heirs? You should be having dozens to fill out that big home.” Four years? She definitely did her research on us.

Ch-4 --------------------- Mom: "Thinking about your lying, cheating father, I then look at you, my loving, strapping son. Given my age, I realize that I would be a fool to turn down what might be my last chance at having that second child that I always dreamed about."

Zetty asked Robbie, "Why is Mommy sighing?" Robbie cleared his throat and said wisely, "Maybe she's going through menopause. A few of my classmates’ moms acted like that when they were going through menopause. They’re sighing all day. From the moment they wake up, they’ll either scold their husbands or their sons. Other than that, they just sigh. Since our mommy doesn't have a husband to scold and we’re such good kids, the only thing left for her to do is sigh.”