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Chapter 19 - Episode 8: The Dinner. -Part 2: The Mother.  

Eventually, the meal ended. I helped clear the table—another simple act that earned me looks of profound surprise and gratitude—before retiring to my room. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, letting out a long, slow breath. The scent of Vera's cooking and the perfume of five beautiful women still clung to my clothes.

 

"[That is one hole in the boat that has been patched, Sir]". Sunday's voice chimed softly from my PC speakers, her tone approving.

 

"Yep, thankfully it's over peacefully…" I muttered, a lazy, satisfied grin spreading across my face. I pushed off the door and walked to the bed, collapsing onto it.

 

"It's felt more than that, actually... It's like I've been given the keys to the kingdom after the last guy tried to burn it down." I stared at the ceiling, the images of the women swirling in my head.

 

"Sunday," I breathed out, the words tumbling forth in a hushed, rapturous confession. "Did you get a good look at them? I mean, really look? They're… they're all so fucking good-looking. It's not fair. It's like I'm living in a harem anime, but better, because they're real."

 

I sat up, counting on my fingers. "Mom's a total blonde MILF. Grandma is a fucking timeless, voluptuous cougar. Vera… fuck, Vera is a Latina fantasy made flesh. Bella is a young goddess with an ass that won't quit. And Emily…" I shook my head, laughing softly. "Emily's just a straight-up bombshell. Every single one of them is fit, they're all shaped like fucking hourglasses, and their tits and asses… I mean, come on. It's like they were all genetically engineered to be the perfect woman. It's enough to make a man's dick get whiplash."

 

"[My analysis of their physical characteristics and genetic compatibility with your own preferences confirms your assessment,]" Sunday replied, her voice devoid of judgment, only fact. 

 

"[Each of them scores between 97 and 100 percent on your ideal partner matrix... Their physiques are all within the top 0.01 percentile for health, fertility, and aesthetic appeal according to this world's standards. They are, for all intents and purposes, the ideal mates for you, Sir…]"

Hearing it stated so clinically, so definitively, was the final nail in the coffin of my old-world conscience. It wasn't just my opinion; it was a scientific fucking fact.

 

"Ideal mates," I repeated, the words feeling heavy and right on my tongue. I didn't deny it. How could I? It was the truth.

 

"Ideal mates, huh… I definitely agree with that...". it was a true statement, I was just about to boot up my PC, maybe see what kind of new things to explore out there, when a soft, hesitant knock echoed from my door.

 

"[Knock Knock]".

 

"Sael?" The voice was muffled by the wood, but I'd know it anywhere. It was Mom. "Honey? Can I… can I come in for a minute?"

 

"Yeah, door's open," I called out, swiveling in my chair to face it.

 

The knob turned, and the door swung inward. And my entire brain, along with every drop of blood in my body, immediately rerouted south.

 

Standing in my doorway, haloed by the dim light of the hallway, was my mother. But not 'Mom' as in packed lunches and early curfews, this was Cathy, the woman. She was fresh out of the shower. Her blonde hair was twisted up in a white towel turban, revealing the elegant, graceful line of her neck. But it was the rest of her that sent my system into catastrophic overload.

 

She was wearing a towel, Just one, A single, terrycloth rectangle that was putting in a heroic, losing battle against the absolute bounty of her body. It was wrapped tightly around her torso, tucked securely just above the magnificent swell of her breasts. And what breasts they were. Good fucking Christ. They were gigantic. Heavy, full, exaggerated orbs that strained against the confines of the towel, creating a cleavage so deep and profound I could have lost a watch in it. The soft, pale skin of her upper chest was flushed pink from the heat of the shower, and a few stray droplets of water glittered there like diamonds.

 

The towel hugged her slim waist, emphasizing its narrowness before flaring out over the lush, round curve of her hips and that world-class, bubble butt I'd admired at dinner. The hem of the towel ended high on her thighs, showcasing legs that were toned and shapely. She was barefoot, looking both vulnerable and unbelievably sexy.

 

This wasn't a mom. This was a centerfold. A wet dream made flesh. A certified, grade-A, premium MILF standing in the doorway of my bedroom. And she was my mother.

 

My dick went from zero to steel-reinforced concrete in under a second, straining painfully against the fly of my jeans. My mouth went completely dry. All I could do was stare, my brain short-circuiting, trying and failing to reconcile the woman who'd read me bedtime stories, with the voluptuous siren currently setting my every nerve ending on fire.

 

She seemed to hesitate for a second, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I… I hope I'm not interrupting."

 

 "No. Not at all. Come in." I somehow, managed to stand up, my movements feeling jerky and uncoordinated.

 

She stepped inside, and the scent of her hit me—warm, clean skin, feminine soap, and that underlying, essential scent that was just her. It was dizzying. She closed the door softly behind her, and the intimacy of the act, of her being in my room, alone, dressed only in a towel, made my heart hammer against my ribs.

 

"I just… wanted to talk," she said, her voice soft. She gestured weakly towards my bed. "Can we sit?"

 

"Yeah. Sure." I walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, the springs groaning. She followed, sitting down beside me. The bed dipped under her weight, and her thigh, warm and damp from the shower, pressed against mine. The contact was electric.

 

She didn't waste time. She immediately turned her body towards me and slipped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a side hug. My face was suddenly level with the incredible, towel-covered mountain of her breast. The soft, warm weight of it pressed against my cheek and shoulder, and I had to fight every instinct in my body not to turn my head and bury my face in that heavenly softness.

 

"I just…" she began, her voice trembling with emotion. She hugged me tighter. "I love you so much, Sael. So, so much. And seeing you tonight… seeing the effort you're making… it makes me happier than you can possibly know." She kissed the top of my head, her lips warm against my scalp.

 

The genuine, raw love in her voice cut through the haze of lust, warming me from the inside. I leaned into her, letting myself absorb it. This was what I'd missed. This was what the old me had thrown away. "I know, Mom," I mumbled into her shoulder. "I know I've been… too much. For far too long."

 

"It's okay," she whispered, her hand stroking my hair. It was a gentle, soothing motion. "We all make mistakes. I'm just so proud you're trying to fix them… That's what matters."

 

I took a shaky breath. "I am trying. I really am. I hope… I hope you can all be patient with me. This… this new way of thinking… its gonna take some getting used to."

 

She pulled back slightly to look at me, her beautiful face earnest. "Of course, baby. You take all the time you need. We'll be here. I'll always be here. I'll love you no matter what." The promise in her eyes was absolute.

 

Emboldened by her warmth, I started to tell her about my day. I told her about the call to Miss Reis, my voice calm and steady. I told her about the calm conversation with Nadia, leaving out the more salacious details. I mentioned talking with Emily, the reconciliation. She listened intently, her fingers never stopping their gentle caress through my hair, her eyes fixed on mine.

 

Then I took the plunge.

 

"And… I talked to Grandma Nadia about… the mandate," I said, choosing my words carefully.

 

Cathy's hand stilled for a fraction of a second. "Oh?"

 

"I told her… I want to do it. But I don't want it to be in some cold clinic." I looked her directly in the eye, letting her see my seriousness. "I want to do it the right way. The natural way. Like a man should. And she… she agreed to it."

 

The effect was instantaneous. Her entire body gave a violent, full-bodied tremble against mine. I felt it from her shoulder down to her thigh pressed against me. A wide, beautiful smile spread across her face, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. There was happiness there, sure. Relief. But underneath it, shining through like a beacon, was something else entirely.

 

A deep, aching, unmistakable yearning.

 

Her eyes searched mine, and in their bright blue depths, I saw a silent, desperate question. It was as clear as if she'd shouted it. 'That's wonderful for her… but what about me? When is it my turn? When do you claim me?'

 

The look was so open, so hungry, it stole the air from my lungs. The atmosphere in the room shifted, the maternal warmth igniting into something else, something primal and deeply, deeply sexual. The towel suddenly seemed even smaller. The space between us even smaller still.

 

My mother, the stunning blonde MILF, wasn't just happy for her mother-in-law. She was also seemed to be jealous of her. And she was ready. The promise of it, the sheer, illicit thrill of that unspoken desire, hung in the air between us, thick and heavy as honey.

 

 

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