“Good morning sunshine!” His mother, Maggie, called brightly, her dirty blonde hair pulled back into a loose, messy bun as she poked her head into...Bryan’s room. Bryan quickly sat up, throwing his pillow to the floor and pulling his knees up to his chest to hide the very large, very obvious tent his hardon had made in the bed sheets.“Mom! Don’t you knock?!” He cried out in embarrassment, feeling his face beginning to flush red. If his mom had noticed his predicament however, she didn’t let on,. (No, I didn't have a womb implant; I solved the ts-motherhood problem by marrying a wonderful man whom I had known almostfrom the beginning of my stay in Portland and who became a widower whenwife was killed in an unfortunate traffic accident, leaving him to takecare of two babies under two years old whom he was totally unable tocare for by himself. After ten years of marriage, we still grow more inlove with each other every day.) I threw myself into the motherhoodthing, serving on the board. More

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