How could you not scramble out of the wheelchair to hug your new hot mom

It was your mom after all, even if she was in the body of a delightfully attractive college girl. Hopefully, that wasn't the real reason you moved quickly.

With a little more effort than you thought due to the aches, you got up, leaned over and embraced her. The anticipation had your whole mind and body getting excited. No matter how much your mind said this was your mom, your eyes told it otherwise, and the physical part of you was too attuned to believing them.

As you held each other, you closed your eyes and tried to concentrate imagining your mom's previous body, but it did little good to ease the blood rising your manhood. Strangely, you didn't find the embrace all that different from what your memory had of your mom except seeming much thinner. She still had your mom's more-than-ample breasts. That was comforting if not confusing.

Silence descends as you let go and slide back into the wheelchair, but your mom only lets it hang for a few seconds before inquiring, "So do you like my new body?"

A thousand things pop into your head to say how spectacular she is, but your conscience quickly stifles them not wanting to sound like you didn't like your mom's, um, original body. After all, she was attractive and quite fit for being in her early forties. A few extra pounds but still had lovely brown hair, no gray like several of your friends' moms.

When you pondered too long, she cocked her head and gave you that other look of having to wait. Fortunately, your brain spat out the proper response.

"From what I can see of it, it's pretty good."

With a look of shock, she tells you, "That's hardly proper especially after you squeezed me so tightly. What would people think if they knew my son wants me to expose what's under the sheets. Although, I'm not surprised," she finishes with a teasing smile and girlish giggle, similar but unlike your mom.

As you relax from that scare, she adds, "Just so you know, I have seen it, and it 'is' amazing. Do want to look?" She grabs the sheet and begins to pull it back.

You freak and cry out, "MOM!" and begin looking around to see if anyone else came in and might be watching.

She laughs but doesn't stop pulling back the sheet. You gasp.

"Exactly, although you can't really see it under this frumpy hospital gown," she sighs.

"Mom, don't!" Although every filament of your body and mind desperately would like to see - one part rising mightily to the occasion, you are so embarrassed that all the blood flushing your face and drifting south makes you dizzy, so you close your eyes.

"Oh, come on, Tim. Open up. I'm not going to flash my son with this terrific female stripper's body." Your eyes pop open realizing that she knows. "Yes, I know all about Morgan. The doctors have explained everything. So if you want to see more, you'll have to come to the club, and I'll expect a proper tip."

She pauses for effect which she surely gets in the expression on your face.

"Too bad you're not old enough, though," she adds then laughs heartily. It makes her face glow and look even more stunning.

"Funny, Mom. You're a real live wire."