Nathan gets a surprise

At first, nothing seemed different. Margaret still stood in the same place, unmoving. But then—crack.

Nathan's stomach lurched as Margaret's spine arched unnaturally, her entire body spasming like a puppet whose strings had been violently yanked. A strangled gasp escaped her lips as her limbs jerked, shifting and twisting in impossible ways.

Her frail hands smoothed over themselves, the wrinkles vanishing before Nathan’s eyes, skin tightening into something youthful, radiant. Her figure trembled as it rapidly reformed, the loose cardigan and slacks she had been wearing suddenly hanging off her body as her frame began to shrink and refine itself.

Her arms slimmed. Her waist caved inward, curving in that familiar way that sent Nathan's mind into a spiral.

Her chest—once modest, age-softened—suddenly pushed against the fabric of her sweater, growing fuller, rounder, pressing insistently against the material until it strained against the new proportions.

Her legs lengthened, muscles subtly toning as her feet shifted in her old house slippers, her stance widening into one Nathan had seen a thousand times before—relaxed, confident, effortlessly alluring.

Then came the hair.

Margaret’s short, graying strands shimmered as if catching invisible light before bursting into golden waves, cascading down past her shoulders in thick, sun-kissed locks.

Her face was last.

Wrinkles smoothed, cheekbones lifted, lips plumped into a glossy, youthful pout. Her once-soft features sharpened into a striking, breathtaking resemblance of—

Jessica.

Nathan's stomach dropped.

Margaret—no, Jessica—blinked, her eyes now a bright, playful hazel.

And then, with a sudden squeal, she giggled.

“Oh my god, hi Nate!” she chirped, her voice high, sugary, and unmistakably Jessica’s.

Nathan’s throat went dry.

Jessica—or what had been Margaret just moments ago—suddenly wrinkled her nose in disgust, plucking at the oversized cardigan hanging off her slender shoulders.

“Eww, like, why am I in mom’s clothes?” she whined, pouting as she tugged at the fabric.

Nathan’s brain short-circuited.

He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

He was too busy staring at the impossible.

That was Jessica. Down to the last detail. The way she moved, the way she spoke, the way her lips curled into that absentminded pout she always did when she was annoyed.

But it wasn’t Jessica.

It was her mother.

A warm weight pressed against Nathan’s back, and he barely had time to register it before he felt two soft mounds flattening against him, Selene’s arms snaking around his waist.

Her lips brushed against his ear, her voice a delighted, sultry whisper.

“I told you having me around would be fun,” she purred. “That’s not the real Jessica, but turning her mother into your little crush and then letting you play with her? Mmm… sounds positively perverted, doesn’t it?”

Nathan sucked in a sharp breath, his mind reeling.

Selene giggled against his skin. “She may not have been such a bimbo before, but a little browsing around in that dirty little head of yours told me they’re your type…”

She raised a hand, snapping her fingers with a flourish.

Jessica squealed as her clothes melted away, fabric evaporating in an instant and reforming into something that made Nathan’s pulse spike.

A tiny crop top clinging impossibly tight to her chest, exposing just enough underboob to be criminal. A short, frilly miniskirt that barely covered anything, emphasizing her smooth, toned thighs.

Jessica gasped, twirling in delight as she looked down at herself.

“Like, thanks, Miss…” she trailed off, blinking in confusion before giggling, brushing it off without a second thought.

Then, without hesitation, she rushed toward Nathan.

Before he could react, she threw her arms around his neck, her body pressing against his.

Nathan froze.

Her soft tits molded into his chest, her warmth seeping through his clothes as she hugged him tight, her perfume—light, fruity, intoxicating—flooding his senses.

Selene, still wrapped around him from behind, sighed happily.

“Oh, Nathan…” she murmured, her fingers tracing along his stomach. “Don’t you like me more than your mother already?”