«Help! My Mother's a Bimbo» by Alana Church

Max's mother Veronica is gorgeous. But she's also divorced, lonely, and depressed. But when Veronica takes an experimental new drug, things change for the better! Veronica's horny alter ego, Ronnie, takes over her body, and she's got her eyes on her sexy son! Can Max stave off her sexual attack? Find out in "Help! My Mother's a Bimbo!"


~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~


This was getting out of control. He tried to focus on something other than his mother’s body, which was displayed with such a carefree lack of concern that he felt himself, despite his best intentions, starting to respond. “Mom,” he stuttered, “maybe you should sit down. You can’t talk about…about screwing me. I’m your son.”


“You’re right.” He let out a breath of relief. “We shouldn’t be talking about it.”


His mother giggled. “We should be doing it.”


And then she reached behind her back, unclasped her bra, and leaped into his arms, her hands snaking around his neck to draw his head down into a passionate, searing kiss. Her mouth opened, her lips soft and sweet, and the darting tip of her tongue played along his lips, seeking entry.


And, to his complete mortification and shame, he found his body responding. Inside his loose, comfortable jeans, he stiffened, rising and hardening until he was an aching bar of steel. His hands found his mother’s back, her skin fever-hot. And when she released his mouth from the gentle prison of her lips, he found himself looking down between their bodies to where her breasts were pressed against his chest. How would they feel in his hands? How would her-


No.


With a monumental effort, he somehow lifted his hands, placed them against his mother’s arms, and gently pushed her away.


“Mom. We can’t.”


“Stop being silly. Of course we can. Unless,” her lip quivered, “you don’t really think I’m beautiful.”


“Of course you’re beautiful!”


“Then stop calling me ‘Mom.’ Call me…Ronnie.”


“Ronnie?”


“That was my nickname.” Somehow, her hand had reached his groin, and she was stroking him, her fingers both gentle and firm. “When I was in high school. Back before I married your father.


“I lost my virginity when I was fourteen,” she whispered, her lips nuzzling his neck. “And by the time I graduated, I had gone through half of my high school. Mom knew, I think. But Daddy never found out. Not until I was older and he couldn’t do anything about it. But I love sex so much. It’s the funnest thing ever. God, Max, you feel so good.” She took one of his hands, placing it on her breast. Instinctively, his fingers cupped the warm mound, and she shivered, pressing closer to him. “Please, baby.” Her voice entreated him. “Please.”


Jesus Christ. My mom’s a…a bimbo!


 It was all there. The inability to think ahead. The delightfully innocent personality. The preoccupation, no, the obsession with sex.


Was this something that the pill had done? Or was Veronica’s own frustrated sex drive simply taking advantage of a period of unexpected freedom, the same way a prisoner would respond to a cell door left conveniently open?


It was more temptation than any reasonable man could be expected to withstand. His hot, sexy mother was writhing against him, her bare tit warm and heavy in his hand, practically begging him to make love to her.