Mother Son Novels & Stories

“That’s right, Carys. I didn’t tell you before to give you a surprise.” His response left me scratching my head. Was I wrong about Bryan again? Did he really love Mom? As I debated in my head, Mom grabbed my hand, her eyes pleading. “We should just be a family, Carys. I know you can’t accept him right now, but I’m carrying his baby.” As much as the situation was upsetting, Mom was pregnant. I would always be sympathetic to Mom. So, I nodded at her. Overjoyed, Mom threw herself into Bryan’s arms.

Like Mom and son had invented their own language that only they could understand. "Oh yes. So good," Christine said, "My son. OH! My little boy. Not so little. Ha ha! His cock. My cunt. Oh fill it, baby. Fill me up. Please. Mommy... It's OK. Need it. So bad. Oh you're doing so good for Mooommmmy!"

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 at track or swim meets.

He was trying to keep his voice level, but I could hear the confusion and frustration seeping into his words. “Well just now for one. But I have been many times throughout my life. Every time that Hank beat me, or every time that something bad happened at school, she would call me to her and comfort me. When I was a baby, she brought me food, rocked me to sleep and took care of me. And she sang to me, a lullaby, oh Gunner it is the most beautiful song I have ever heard, and her voice is magnificent. Can you believe it? I had a mother this whole time! Gunner, I wasn’t alone, Selene, or mother as I called her, she was there” “Woah, woah, woah! Zee slow down! Are you telling me that the Moon Go

His face was practically curdling with disgust. Right on cue, Mona swooped in, all graceful, like she was rehearsing for a soap opera. She laid this delicate, supportive hand on his shoulder, pretending to look sympathetic. "She is your biological mother, after all," she sighed. "Maybe I should be the one to leave. I'm just the outsider here." "Don't say that!" Henry interrupted, way too fast. "You're the one who's been a real mother to me. This woman? She's the one who forced her way between you and my father. She's the real home-wrecker."

A nurse at the hospital happily took me from the obstetrician and announced to my mother, "It's a girl! Her skin is fair and glowing—she'll definitely grow up beautiful!" When Mom heard her words, her tired expression immediately changed. She suddenly grabbed the young nurse's hair before slapping her a few times. The entire hallway echoed with Mom's scolding. "You witch! Did you secretly swap out my son? I ate so much salty food! How could it not be a boy?"

Pain exploded in my cheek as the rock struck me, and I felt the warm trickle of blood slide down my face. I struggled to lift my head, using every ounce of strength I had left, and screamed, "Shannon Sinclair! I am Jeremy’s wife! I’m the mother of our son, Daniel!" Hearing her name, Shannon froze for a moment, then let out a shriek. She lifted her stiletto heel and kicked me square in the face. "Oh, really? You even know everything about us! This must be a part of some criminal ring! "Let’s do the right thing today! Stand up for all the families who’ve had their children kidnapped!" she shouted again.

No fear, eventually the right words will come to me to let them know. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing was emitted due to the opening of the door. In her elegance, my tall beautiful mother entered sporting a baby pink dupioni Moroccan jacket pulled over a white tank top and white slacks, along with cone heels. Her shoulder-length black neatly comes together into a ponytail. After closing the door, her emerald green eyes bounced from father to son. “What did I miss?”

“Marion, why are you driving like you’re in a race!” I smirked, glancing at her sideways. “Maybe I am. Just making sure you enjoy the ride.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling, the wind whipping through her hair as the city blurred past, the kind of moment that felt easy, natural, and entirely ours. “So, Demetria, since Marion has made it clear that’s all we can call you, and not Wildfire.” Mom said, rolling her eyes as we snickered. It was the truth, though. I wasn’t going for anybody calling my baby Wildfire. “How are you liking your relationship with my son?”

Mom said, and we smiled at her. "Runo is my first baby, and my baby Darenn is my youngest. I don't mind losing everything except you two, and I am so happy you're here beside me now. Our family might be incomplete; I hope you're happy with just me as your parent," Mom said, and I immediately nodded at her.