Your Mother - Ms. Ivy Smith

The first person I had to signal and bring in was my mother of course. Ivy Smith was my mother, she was in her 40s and had me when she was very young. She is a tall brunette in glasses with a slim figure despite her age and ample bosom and bottom. Ivy, mom, had come by herself to my vault door on the intercom. She was carrying bags of her personal belongings. She looked a bit tousled.

I went to the door to let her in. Entered my passcode and the fingerprint reader and the door slide open. My mom looked happy to see me and gave me a hug, her supple breast squeezing against my chest.

“Adam, I’m so glad you’re safe with all that’s happened.”

“Mom, where’s Dad and Sis?”

Mom looked down, and tears welled in her eyes, “I don’t know, I’ve tried contacting them but no sign. When I got your message, I came here as quickly as I could.”

“Please, you look tired, come in and get some rest,” I said.

Mom nodded and proceeded to the longe where she sat on the sofa and made herself comfortable.

“This place is huge Adam. I can’t believe you built all this.” She said looking around in amazement.

I turned on the TV for her, and she was glued to it, the news signals all reporting the same horror. I gave her the remote, and she flipped it, looking for other news.

“Do you want some water,” I asked her.

“That would be lovely dear, thank you.” She looked glumly at the news, “What’s going to happen to us?”

“I don’t know, but you’re safe if you stay here, I promise you.”

“Thank you, Adam, you’ve become such a dependable man.” She said with a smile.

“I’ll go check if Sis or Dad responded to any of my messages,” I said, and she nodded.

I left her there, trying to hide the huge bulge I had in my pants.