Yummy Mummy

She was hot. The kind of hot that you stop and take a second look.
Tall, slim with long dirty blonde hair. Pretty too, and dressed in a fairly sharp business suit.
She was at the counter and then he showed up, and I instantly felt sorry for him.
He was her son, and he was about 11.
Why did I feel sorry for him?
Well, because at 11 he teetered on the brink of being a teenager and that meant his friends are soon going to be hormonally charged teenagers too.
I imagine that given how fit she is at least a few of his friends will develop crushes on him. And that’s got to be pretty awkward, downright uncomfortable even, for the kid.
Catching your mates checking out your mum is probably not a fun experience, and teen boys aren’t exactly the most subtle of people.
I always felt particularly bad for the kids of celebrities, particularly ones like my longtime crush Pamela Anderson, because it is extremely easy to stumble across nude pictures of them. Which is good for single guys like me, but probably a nightmare for their kids.


And not too fun for the mum either, being ogled by horny teenagers.
Sorry, this is the kind of random chain of thought I sometimes get lost on.


What other illustration was going to use?
Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO

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