Chapter #18Mister and Miss Mom by: Nostrum   “Stop it!” Your mother hisses at you as you drive over to Barbara’s house. You called an Uber to make the trip, and it’s been five minutes since you left.
It’s very difficult, though. “You know how hard it is to hold still when you’ve got your panties shoved up your ass!?”
She slaps your arm, mortified. “He’s going to hear!”
“You asked me to be on character,” you whisper, tempering Quentin’s behavior slightly. You agreed to practice it as you went, but it seems your mother’s already regretting it. He can’t help but feel excited to be inside Cassie again – and that feels contagious, since it’s easily spreading to you.
Compared to Ashley, Cassie’s rear is small but firm. She’s still curvy, judging by how you struggled to lift her jeans, but Ashley got her beat. She’s slimmer, though, which makes her breasts look bigger. (And if it weren’t because your mother caught you, you’d be playing with those titties all day long.)
Cassie’s mind doesn’t help you distract, though. She’s not a pervert, but she’s flirty. The tanktop and the jeans you’re wearing, for example, are all hers. She’s not afraid of showing cleavage, or shaking her ass when walking, but she does it to tease. If she saw a cute boy she likes, she’d grab her boobs and fondle them while giving a slutty smile--
--alright, that might be Quentin thinking about it. You haven’t told your mom yet, but after testing that you could wear two skins at once, and that you could get linked to their minds, something seemed to have unlocked within you.
Or well, within Quentin. He’s played a different side of Cassie for so long, that it’s hard to figure where she ends and where he begins. He knows what guys want in a girl, and she knows how to offer it. You do sense some of her reticence, but he knows how to silence her.
And that combination – Quentin's urges and Cassie’s flirtiness – overwhelms you now. Which isn’t helpful as you’re trying to fool Ross, not fuck him. Especially since you have to cover for your mother, who doesn’t have Trevor’s mind inside her – only Ashley’s.
But you have a plan for that. It’s been a while since Ashley returned home – why not visit her dear sister first? And then they can all visit Mom?
It all starts with a call. “Barbara! It’s been so long. Listen – Cassie just passed by, and told me Mom and you missed me. I’ll be there in a couple minutes, alright?”
--
“Ashley!” Barbara warmly hugs her dear sister as you stay behind, letting you enjoy the show. The Wright sisters are well-endowed, and while your mother’s blocking her “sister’s” cleavage, you still have front-row seats to her caboose.
Because while Ashley got the big, fat ass, Barbara got the bigger milkers. She’s the middle one – Cassie's the youngest – and while Ashley’s a MILF in formation, Barbara wouldn’t be out of place on a Hooters (despite being a pharmacist). She's casual today, though, with her blonde hair in a ponytail and a long T-shirt reaching down her legs but leaving her thighs exposed.
Your mother’s showing courage, as she’s not afraid of the truth. “Barbie... I miss you.”
“So do I, Sis. Come in, come in!” Barbara looks at you and you yank her, wasting no time to mock her.
“Sissie!” (It’s a play on Dumb and Dumber – Ashley's “Sis” and Barbara is “Sissie” because she’s younger, but it’s also a way to jab Ross for being the first to become a woman.) You hold her tight with a hug, and as “Ashley” turns to see, you smirk and send her off.
“What’s she doing here?” Barbara asks, though it’s not her question.
“Trev’s a ninny,” you respond in character. “He’s afraid of Ashie’s new flame.”
Barbara turns around, but you quickly improvise. “Hey - I’d be afraid too! The guy’s a hunk.”
She sets you aside, then pushes you outside. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“That’s why I brought her here!” you hiss. “She doesn’t know Trev’s been watching over as her neighbor. I told the guy we’d soften things up with Mom, then brought Ashie here.” You notice your mother’s pulling out the pen, and you maneuver Barbara’s back in front of her. “Trev’s coming, and he’ll make the change here.”
However, Barbara doesn’t act as you expect. “Cassie here was telling me all about...” She freezes, as your mother couldn’t hide the pens on time.
Which means you gotta go straight to Plan B. You draw your own pen from Cassie’s purse, shooting her on the back. You catch her deflating skin mid-air and push her in while closing the door.
--
“You sure this’ll work?” It’s so bizarre to see your white mother’s head sprouting from the body of a nude Black man.
“We can always check with the pens,” you reply. You try to relieve her nerves by making a little joke. “How does it feel to be a man, Mom?”
“The quicker we finish this, the better.” She grabs Ross Marquand’s pecker, shivering. “It feels so real...”
“Wanna test how guys pee standing?” Your mother’s dark glare tells you she’s not willing to. Yet you press on. “Aww, c’mon! You can tell Dad you’ve got the balls to do whatever you want now!”
“David, this isn’t a joke.” She grabs the man’s shaved, deflated head, taking a deep breath. “It’s making it harder than I thought. Hope this doesn’t ruin my hair...”
As Marie Anderson pulls on the face of Ross Marquand, you notice he’s probably the better-looking between you three. (And by three, you mean Trevor and Quentin.) He’s tall and wiry, full of baby fat everywhere – a former basketball player turned drug dealer, meaning his athletic body went to waste. His face can be scary, though your mother’s worried expression makes him look like a wimp.
A loaded wimp, though – it seems that what people say about Black men is true. Even if the man’s currently too effeminate to fit the stereotype. “How do I look--?” She shivers, covering her mouth. “Wow... My voice’s so deep.”
“Your voice’s not the only thing that goes deep.” You chuckle as you pester your mother. “You’d be the envy of gays everywhere, though.”
“David, stop it.” You shiver, because one thing’s for certain – Ross's deep voice makes your mother’s rebuke twice as poignant. And she recognizes it, because her hum is way too satisfactory. “Alright. Seems there’s some benefits to this.”
“Glad to see you’re relaxed now.” You grab the brown pen, shooting her with it. She faints, falling on Barbara’s bed, and you know next time she wakes up, she’ll think she’s Ross Marquand.
You wonder how long it’ll take for her to wake up, though. Maybe you can play with Cassie a bit while she’s knocked out?
--
“You good?” you ask Barbara, dressed just as casually as you. She kept the ponytail, but switched to a frilly, sleeveless blouse and some jeans.
“Feeling better now.” She’s recovering from the nerves of being behind a wheel, even though she had Barbara’s and Ross’s skills to compensate. She almost crashes, and after parking merely a couple blocks away from her apartment, you switch seats. Her cool, professional image was quickly shattered, but the trip has allowed her to connect nicely with the two voices on her head.
Perhaps it’s age, because you’re very comfortable being behind Quentin’s seat, while he’s the one driving Cassie. (It’s easy to think of those analogies while driving.)
“You better not fuck up when we’re talking to Mom, you hear?”
“I know, man!” That’s promising – that sounds a lot like Ross talking, not like your mom blabbering. “Gotta be on point.”
“Just remember – a bit more Barbie and a bit less ghetto.” She rolls her eyes as you reply naturally in character. “Speaking of which – has Ross played with Barbie’s body?”
She closes her eyes, nodding. “Yeah. ‘Would be a fool not to’ - his words.”
“See why it’s so hard to control yourself when you’re inside a hot body while thinking like a man? You don’t have to ask me – you’ve got a guy’s brain inside.”
“That’s something we’ve got to talk about.” And now, your mother’s sliding into Barbara’s persona – or what you know about her, since Ross overtook her first. You’ve never seen the real Barbara, relying only on what Cassie tells you. “Mom says you’re becoming a liability.”
You almost brake in mid-street, but recover quickly. “What!?”
“I shouldn’t tell you this – shouldn't be telling Quentin this – but she says you’ve been going too easy on Trevor. And that your promiscuity’s bringing too much attention to her.”
“You’re seriously telling me I should cut on fucking guys? I mean – I got a couple bitches I fuck on secretly, but--”
“Could you stop that!?” You’re unsure where that whining comes from, but that’s definitely not Ross’s. “It’s unsettling to think that... well, Quentin’s abused Cassie in that way.”
“They’ve got no scruples, Mom. Especially Quentin.”
“I know they’ve got no scruples, but they still got some self-control. That’s what... well, what ‘Mom’ is arguing about. You’re making too much of a name.”
“You know what Mom said,” you reply while resuming character. “I can do whatever I want with her.”
“As long as you don’t get yourself in trouble. That’s what she’s scared of.”
You’re nearing close to Mrs. Wright’s house, when you realize it’ll be harder than you imagined. There are several black cars parked near the sidewalk – a Rolls-Royce, an Aston Martin, even a well-maintained Oldsmobile – that you dimly recognize. You’ve seen them outside in occasions, when Mrs. Wright gets a visit.
“Damn,” Barbara exclaims. “Mom’s got to be in business talks.”
“Wanna go for a ride around?’ you ask her. “Maybe go for a coffee or something. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“Why?”
“To buy some time,” you argue. “And because the better you can play fake Barbie, the better.”  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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