Tell your step-mom to do it instead.

You turn to look at your mom.

"Sorry Cass, I don't really feel like it," you fold both arms and look at the pretty woman's side, elegantly swaying to the rhythm of her movements as she went about cleaning and arranging the waning clutter in the sink. "Do you think you can do it?"

This could've been an invitation for ****. The curvy brunette, however, seems to pause for but a brief second before her recognizably homely tone reaches your ears. "Hm. Sunds like a good deal to me," says the older woman as she flicks the dishwasher closed and looks at you with a smile. "Go ahead and kick back. Actually, I'll take care of all your chores from here on out, John."

As she plucks out a jar of sugar from the cabinet, you lean on the counter, hand on your chin, enjoying the new lenience.

"What else are you willing to take care of, exactly, Cass?"

"Well," the woman sighs, pausing for a quick thought, "your bedroom, for one."

"My bedroom?"

"Yes, I'll organize your things and make your bed regularly so you don't have to. I'll also have to look for those tweezers, see if we could get those bits of gum out of the carpet, as well as a batch of oil. Your dad should be able to help with that."

"I have gum on my carpet?"

"Yes!" she fails to hide her partial disbelief. "Have you been in there recently?"

You scratch your chin. "Okay. What else are you willing to do?"

Back to business, Cassandra recollects herself. "Your homework." She undoes the jar from before, then grabs a bowl. "Math, English. You just give me the word, and I'll do it, John."

A slacker's dream, that probably was. "Anatomy too?"

"Of course."

You smirk.

"Would you be willing to bathe me? Give me massages? How about feeding me with your own hands?"

"Yes, yes, aaand yes." The cooking mother playfully draws out the last part of her sentence as she begins throwing in numerous ingredients into the bowl and starts stirring them together. Hearing those words of agreement come out of her mouth like that so casually is surreal. You stare at her from behind.

"Cass."

"Mm-hm?"

"Can you show me your boobs?"

Setting her spoon against the bowl rim, your stepmom swiftly turns and tugs her shirt upward, letting her breasts flop out from below her bra-less top into the unassuming air as she gives you a questioning look. "Like this?"

You look at her busty, naked chest, and nod.

Smiling back, the woman pulls her shirt down, lightly smoothing it against her stomach. Then, she turns back and returns to mixing her batch of powder and batter into one.