Epilogue

It’s been two weeks since Mom fucked a condomless Jeremy and she still hasn’t returned to her usual self. I have a feeling she never will.

The first change Mom made the morning after he left was to discard all items of clothing with any semblance of modesty. Initially, of course this meant exclusively wearing lingerie, even outside the house.

This made her especially popular at work, where the popular employees would grope her tits and spank her ass constantly - with permission from Jeremy, of course.

Mom was now the talk of town, making Jeremy’s father’s restaurant a favourite hang-out spot for my friends. They didn’t even try hiding the fact they were there for her—ordering nothing but drinks just to keep their seats while she bent over tables, her sheer bra barely containing her swollen nipples.

It was agony knowing they drooled over her, whispering crude suggestions Jeremy had clearly put in their heads. "Touch her waist," he’d bark at them like a command, and they’d eagerly comply, fingers thumping against her bare skin. Mom would giggle, pressing into their hands—just enough to tease—before pulling away with a wink, leaving them groaning.

Today, Mom got a gift from Jeremy: a sheer shirt and shorts with nothing underneath, having tossed her panties into the trash, and kept the buttons undone, exposing her cleavage and stomach to the world. She hadn't bothered to zip up her shorts either, letting them hang loose around her waist, barely covering anything.

She took a pregnancy test and it came back positive—of course it did. The doctor called Jeremy’s sperm "exceptionally potent," and Mom couldn't stop rubbing her belly, whispering to herself about how lucky she was. She didn't even glance at me as she left the bathroom, still half-dressed, humming while she texted Jeremy the news.

Jeremy will be here again for the weekend, Mom announced at breakfast, her fingers tracing slow circles over her flat stomach as if already feeling the swell of his child. Her phone buzzed—a video call—and she answered with a breathy, "Hi, daddy," before turning the screen toward me. Jeremy's smirk filled the display, his eyes locked onto me as Mom adjusted the camera to show off her barely-there outfit. "Look how good your slut dresses for you now," she cooed, pinching her own nipple through the sheer fabric.

At the moment, my life is hell. For now, I’m going to stop writing this memoir and focus on putting my life back together. Who knows? Maybe I’ll catch a break.

Until then, sayonara.

- Lachlan