Not Just a Phase – Part 1

The much delayed, repeatedly requested continuation of Just a Phase starts here.

“Breakfast!” Adam called out from downstairs.

Mary blinked in confusion, then noticed the morning light peaking through her bedroom curtains. She had lost track of time again.

“Mai” had logged in around midnight, just a quick check before bed to see if there were any new notifications. She’d been spending too much time at her screen, losing days at a time. Just check her follower count, see who reposted her, send some “thx ” to the boys leaving comments…

She’d lost a whole night without knowing it. Mary should probably be more concerned, but it was also the only time she got to spend with Emily. Now that her girlfriend had gone off to college, leaving Mary alone in their hometown, nights were the only time they connected.

Mary had given up trying to manage her handles online, it was just easier to be “Mai” by default. Everyone she chatted with besides Emily knew it, she’d ever started a fan server to keep track of all the cute boys and girls who kept sending her messages of support.

The server itself was a gift (from a fanboy she suspected was still in middle school) since Mai wasn’t great with the nerdy computer stuff. Sure, Mary had been eyeing technical colleges and had planned to enroll in a CS program — but Mai had made a viral video about how hard it was to “game good” and since then she’d played along with being a ditz when it came to anything more complicated than a TikTok filter…

“Hey, sleepyhead! Breakfast!” Adam’s second call snapped her out of it. Damn it was getting difficult to focus after these long nights!

Mary threw on some no-longer-loose pink sweatpants and cat-eared hoodie (Emily had gotten her some Juicy branded stuff from her Amazon wishlist as a joke) and bounced downstairs. She was momentarily self-conscious about her newly sizeable tits bouncing comically, but it was just her and Adam. How could she be uncomfortable around the man who was basically her father?

“Sorry uncle Adam!” Mary said in a sing-song childish voice. She had found herself apologizing to him so often it was an inside joke now.

“No worries, sweetheart.” Adam didn’t even look up from the TV blasting Fox as he gave her a gentle pat on her ass. “Just figured you’d want to get started before it was lunch!”

Mary giggled in her “Mai” voice. “Hey now, that’s an idea! I can make uncy Adam brunch today! Did you pick up more of those yummy milk and eggs?”

Adam grunted and nodded, gesturing to the fridge. Since Mary had started cooking for the both of them, he’d noticeably bulked up a bit. Mary still found his Dad-bod fitting, maybe even better at this weight. He wore it well, and even her mother had been a bit more flirty with him the last time she’d visited.

God, I hope mom just finally goes for it next time! Mary, thought to herself while she poured the full carton of heavy cream into the eggs. She’d be so fucking lucky to get a big white man like that…

Mary drifted a bit as she cooked, daydreaming what it would be like to have her mom just give up her stupid job across the country and settle down with her and Adam. That seemed like such an obvious win, she was honestly confused why Emily kept up the whole school thing still. Who needed all that stress?!

“Brunch for the big strong man!” Mai’s faux kawaii voice cut just enough above the din of the anchor yelling about cultural Marxists taking over the schools.

Mary sat down next to him on the sofa, her padded bubble butt making her seem slightly taller than she was. The French toast must have been 3000 calories, easy, but something about the local farms just had a way of keeping her plumped perfectly. As she chowed down for what was to be the first of four meals that day, her impossibly tiny stomach rumbled with hunger. It was almost as if it couldn’t keep up with the greedy fattening of her chest, thighs, and backside.

Adam’s belch announced he’d finished, and he absent-mindedly passed over her plate to Mary

She sighed contentedly, thinking about how lucky was. She finally felt like she had a home, with a loving father figure and quality time.

Movie Night – Chapter 1


Concept and characters generously provided by VoidGolem. Special thanks to @talesforsluts edits and suggestions.


Pretty Fate Machine – June 1999

Alone we were alone in her bedroom, and I was trying very hard not to read into that.

Naomi was hot. Her black hair was shoulder length, with a subtle blue streak she’d dyed in for graduation. Though she didn’t show it off, it was impossible not to see she’d inherited her mother’s curves and flawless features.

Naomi was intelligent. She’d been accepted into an Ivy when we’d started dating, and her name was always on the short list for valedictorian.

Naomi was cool. She listened to cool bands, like The Pixies. She looked bad-ass, with unquestionably more fashion sense than the average Ohio suburban teenager. Not quite ‘grunge’, not quite ‘emo’… she could just could rock a leather jacket and eyeliner.

But more than anything right now, Naomi was upset.

“My mother’s awful! She never takes anything I do seriously.”

Naomi paced the room, eyes still a bit red. She’d stopped crying by the time I’d arrived, but a couple sniffles and the slight streak of makeup gave it away immediately.

“Well, that’s not true. She liked when I joined track, though she was pissed it wasn’t cheerleading.” There was a slight sneer in her voice.

It was difficult to picture Naomi with pom-poms, cheering at a pep rally. To be clear, she was in great shape and definitely had the body. With her ripped jeans and Not that I’d ever tell her, but her figure

“Did I ever tell you what my mother did the day of the SAT? She scheduled us a spa day! I had been talking about it all week, but first thing Saturday morning…”

She put a hand on her (not insignificant) hips, flipped her hair and puckered her lips. “Naomi, you no need to take this Es-Ay-Te.

I winced a bit. Even if it was dead accurate, it still made me uncomfortable when Naomi imitated her mother’s heavy accent.

The first time I saw Naomi’s mother, it was actually at a cross country meet. Some random, impossibly fit woman, cheering and bouncing up and down in a tight blue dress. Who wears a dress like that to Bedford High School on weekend? Mrs. Junko Walcott, that’s who.

It wasn’t difficult to figure out who she was rooting for. Naomi was one of maybe six non-white students in our class. Even if the Asian MILF in the stands hadn’t been screaming her name, there was no way for Naomi to hide from the ridiculous woman.

I didn’t really know Naomi back then, and it was another year before the awkward blind-date at prom. When we made out on the couch and somehow, impossibly, started dating. I had no doubt it wasn’t going to last past the summer, just a post senior-year fling before we went to our respective schools in the fall.

“And now, even after I somehow made it into Brown, I’m going to lose my registration because she’s too busy to help me file the paperwork! She’s dropping Kat off at summer camp, then she’s at the gym…”

So we were alone in her bedroom, with no parent coming back for hours… I shifted slightly on her bed, trying to focus on the issue at hand. Trying not to think with my dick, which was ashamedly difficult to do.

“Ryan… I’m sorry, I didn’t want to drag you into this.” She flopped down next to me and gave me a hug. “My mother has always been a shitty mom, I shouldn’t let her get to me. I should know better.”

“No, it’s fucked up,” I assured her. “I can’t imagine my parents… anyone’s parents blowing off their kid like that. My dad threw a party when I got into State. State.”

She sighed. “I really don’t know how I can be so different from my mother. She’s such an airhead! Ugggh!”

“Forget her,” I said, trying to sound confident. “We can do this. I’ll help you.”

She looked up with the first smile I’d seen since I arrived. “Seriously? You’re ok with spending the day helping your girlfriend fill out forms? I don’t even know where half the stuff I need is…”

“It’s cool. I know someone really smart who can help,” I learned in and fake-whispered. “She got into Brown.”

Naomi laughed and kissed my cheek.

Keep reading