“Gah, Chelsea, what are you doing?!” I shouted as I walked into my room to find my girlfriend lying on our bed, dildo deep in her pussy. She smiled at me before slowly removing it, and putting a skirt on. “Sorry, but you were gone and I needed some…company.”
I shook my head, and said, “Well you shoulda waited. You knew I wouldn’t be gone long.” I looked at my girlfriend, and now that she was standing in front of me something seemed…different. Her face had a few more wrinkles, and her breasts seemed to be sitting lower than usual. As I looked over her, she had been going on about how she knew, but didn’t want to wait. I cut her off, saying, “Something’s…different about you. Have you looked in a mirror lately?” She looked at me confused before turning to the mirror in her room. “Oh my gosh!” she screamed. “I look like a fucking milf! What’s happening?”
“I don’t know!” I replied looking up at the back of her head. Wait, looking up? But I’m almost seven inches taller than her? “Chelsea, when did you get so tall?” She turned around, and stifled a laugh. “Uh, try again: when did you get so small? And just look at your widdle face! I just wanna pinch those cute cheeks!” She bent over, and I got an admittedly good view of her cleavage, but that distraction was only temporary, as she pinched at my cheeks, just as she had said. I shooed her away, and she seemed hurt. “What, does my little boy not love his momma any more? Has he gotten too old?” She pouted at me, but I just looked back confused. Momma? Why would she call herself that?
“I’m not your little boy: I’m your boyfriend! Stop acting so weird!” I shouted at her, watching as her face got further and further from my own.
“I’m not the one acting weird, sweetie, that’s you!” she said sweetly. I groaned.
“Oh come on, just because I’ve gotten a bit smaller doesn’t mean we can’t have fun! Remember, you wanted company?” I ran over to her, and lifted her skirt, ready to pleasure her in the way only I knew how when-
SLAP! My hand was batted away from her skirt. “No!” she scolded me. “That’s Mommy’s private area!”
“But-but…” I whimpered. “Where’s Mommy’s peepee?” Tears started to form in my eyes. I didn’t mean to upset Mommy.
“Oh, oh come here,” she said, bending down and pulling me into a big hug. “I get it, you were just curious.” She put her arm around me. “Well, it’s a bit complicated, but mommies don’t have peepees like you and Daddy, they have hoohoos, and they’re a no-no place for little boys like you!”
“Oh, okay. Sorry Mommy,” I said.
“It’s okay, just don’t do it again,” she said sternly. I nodded, and said I wouldn’t before she hugged me again.
“That’s my good boy.”
