Chris and His… Father?

Twenty-one-year-old Chris Christianson woke up in a daze. For the past few weeks, all the boy had done was drink himself into a tailspin. Not that anything was particularly wrong, mind you. He had just recently been able to buy **** and was taking full advantage of this.

He was an underachiever, currently jobless, didn’t have any romantic prospects, and was living with his single father, who was almost identical to the young man in every way aside from being loaded with cash from the life insurance he claimed after Chris’ mom passed away nearly 5 years ago now. He had two older siblings, but each of them were married and had moved away long ago to live lives of their own.

With a pounding headache and wearing only a pair of long blue shorts, Chris groggily sauntered to his door and left for the kitchen. He shuffled inside, and immediately went to the fridge to grab himself a cold bottle of water. He opened it up, grabbed a bottle, and slowly drank it until it was empty.

After that, he turned and froze in place, spotting the wide-eyed beauty sitting at the kitchen table who was eating a bowl of cereal.

She looked just as surprised and caught off guard as Chris was.

Her hair was long and jet black, her handfuls of supple breasts were bralessly contained in a simple white tank top and showing off plenty of freckled cleavage, her long legs and plump thighs were on full display as the pair of jeans short shorts she wore left little to the imagination, and her wide hips perfectly contoured into a slender waist.

Chris couldn’t believe just how beautiful she was, but who was she? Did his dad hire a prostitute last night? He’d never seen her before, and both he and his dad were always at the house, so there was no way his boring and very average-looking dad had been going out to meet this woman regularly enough to bring her home for a night of fun.

“S-Sorry, uh… Who are you?”

The stunning woman, who looked to be maybe thirty at the oldest, blushed at the question and finally swallowed her mouthful of cereal.

After clearing her throat, she finally spoke.

“It’s, uh… This is going to be hard to explain, but… It’s me, Chris. Your dad.”

“Oh, okay…” Chris nodded, tilting his aching head to the side. “Seriously though, who are you?”