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The Seven Ex-Girlfriends of Jonas - Part 6 [MILF TG]
🕑 Added 2025-04-16 09:01:03 +0000 UTCFor LoudVirus
Jonas tries to use magic to lay a curse on his seven ex-girlfriends for dumping him, but the magic backfires. Now, he is forced to become them each in turn for a day and feels compelled to act as they would.
~
Chapter 6 - Pregnant MILF
The sun streamed through the curtains, its light warm against my skin. It would have been a beautiful, peaceful wake-up; if it weren’t for the fact that I felt like I’d run a marathon and something was poking me in the cheek.
“Mommy. Mommy. Mommy.”
“Uuuuugh, wha?”
I blinked my eyes open and immediately jumped backwards in shock as I saw two large, unblinking eyes barely an inch from my face.
“Are you awake?” Asked the small boy.
“Yes…”
“Hurray!” He threw his bear into the air and barely caught it. Can you make breakfast now?”
I recognised that boy; my mind was so groggy I had to think for a second before I remembered where from; he was Noah, Jane’s son. A royal pain in my butt when I’d dated his mother, every time we tried to do anything it was ‘I need a babysitter for Noah’ or ‘Can I bring my son with me’. I wanted to tell him to bugger off and leave me alone, but instead, my body acted of its own accord. I felt a loving smile form across my tired face.
“Of course, sweetheart, just give Mommy some time to wake up, okay?”
“But you are awake.” he moaned. “I’m huuuuuuungry.”
“Go wait in the kitchen. I’ll be there in a moment.”
The little boy pouted but thankfully left, which gave me a moment to take stock of this new body. I seemed to ache all over: my back, my feet, my stomach, my beasts. I looked down and took in the heavy, teardrop-shaped breasts that had attracted me to Jane in the first place. What guy didn’t love a more mature woman with all the extra curves that came from childbearing? She had wide hips, a pear-shaped body and a big, beautiful butt. She'd be pretty perfect if it weren't for the whole kid thing.
Now, there was one extra curve, a big one. Jane’s stomach, my stomach, was huge and tight. I ran a hand over it, feeling the stretched skin through my polka-dot nightie. I’d heard she got pregnant again; God knows who by though, because there was nobody here.
"Mom! I’m hungry!"
It had barely been thirty seconds! The kid had no patience; all I wanted to do was flop back on the bed but my motherly instincts drove me to do the opposite. After the intensity of working out and porn shoots, I’d been looking forward to a relaxing day as a stay at home mom, with no work to stress me out. Guess that idea was out the window. My swollen ankles protested as I stood, but I couldn’t ignore Noah.
"Mom! Mom! I’m hungry!" His voice rang out again, higher-pitched now, more urgent.
“I know, sweetheart! I’m coming!” I sighed, trying to rally. I had to get up. I couldn’t let him just starve, could I?
I struggled to stand, the weight of the belly tipping me slightly off balance. My legs were stiff, and I felt utterly exhausted despite having just woken up. Noah was in the kitchen, bouncing on his toes.
“Mom, cereal! Cereal!”
I grabbed the nearest box; it was sitting on a high shelf, and I had to strain to reach it, the task felt like an Olympic event. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was the sheer weight of my exhaustion. Every movement was slow, each step felt like it took more effort than I had energy for, and I couldn’t shake the fog in my head. My hands fumbled a little as I poured the cereal, and Noah was tugging at my nightgown.
“I wanna help!”
Before I could stop him, he was trying to pour the milk, and it sloshed all over the bench and floor.
“Oopsie.”
I just sighed. I got Noah seated at the bench while I boiled the water for a much-needed coffee and forced myself onto my hands and knees to mop up the milk. My belly hung low as I balanced on my hands and knees, and I felt strange fluttering sensations against the inside of my womb. Of course, I knew pregnant women felt babies kick, but actually feeling a life rolling around inside me was… disconcerting. Yet, it made me oddly happy. I forced myself to my feet and placed a hand against the skin again. A sharp jab took the wind from my lungs.
“Damn, this kid’s going to be a boxer…”
The coffee was finally ready; never in my life had I felt so desperate for caffeine. I sat down with a huff and lifted the cup to my lips.
“All done, Mom! Can you help me with my socks?”
I groaned; what I wanted to say was ‘wait’ but instead, the words that left my mouth were.
“Alright, sweetheart.”
I could barely catch my breath, and now I had to help him with clothes. I rubbed my swollen ankles before getting up again. I felt every single step, every single movement like it was my last ounce of energy. How the hell had Jane done this every day? How had she carried this weight, dealt with Noah’s endless energy, and handled everything else?
I knelt to pull Noah’s socks on, and it hit me. I couldn’t believe it took me living this for just a few minutes to realise how hard it had all been for her. I’d always complained that she was tired, that she didn’t want to have sex. How hard was it to give me a little pleasure once in a while? Right now, if a man asked me to give him a hand job, I’d tell him to fuck off. And I’d been too blind to notice. She had given so much, and I had... just taken.
After getting Noah dressed, I slumped back into a chair, rubbing my sore back. I took another sip of the lukewarm coffee, letting it wash over me, but it didn’t do much for the tiredness. My eyelids fluttered for a moment, but my aches didn't let me rest, nor did my compulsions.
I left the coffee half-finished and made my way back to my room to get dressed for the day. Inside Jane’s wardrobe, I found a familiar collection of tights, yoga pants and stretchy, flowing maternity shirts. For a moment, an image flashed in my mind: memories of all those haggard looking mothers who looked like they’d given up on themselves. Jane wasn't like that. Despite the exhaustion, I felt a sense of determination fill me as I reached for the clothes.
I slipped into a pair of tight, pink yoga pants and a matching black tunic shirt that showed off my breasts and bump.
“Just because I am pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t be beautiful,” I whispered to myself.
I could hear Noah playing in the kitchen, but I ignored that for now. I took five minutes to do my warm brown hair into a neat bun and applied a layer of lipstick and eyeliner. It made all the difference. With just a few touches, a bit of perfume and some earrings, I’d gone from haggard mother to total MILF. That was the Jane I remembered, the one who held her head high. I couldn’t help but feel a burning respect for her now, knowing how finding the time to do this was so difficult.
“Mooooooooom, I can't find my book bag!”
“On the hook, sweetheart!”
My Fitbit beeped and I looked down at the time; my baby did a flop in my stomach. It was a school day!
“Noah! Get your shoes on! We’re going to be late!”
~
Noah put his shoes on backwards, but after I had fixed them, we hurried into the car and made it to the school gate just before the kindergarten room closed. I gave the teacher an apologetic look as Noah rushed past, laces already undone.
“I appreciate your dedication to maintaining your looks.” The thin woman said tightly. “But your son being on time for his education is more important.”
My jaw dropped, and she was gone before I had a chance to retort. What a bitch! I was so damn tired it was a miracle we were here at all!
“She’s awful, isn't she.”
I turned to see another mother with a short bob hairstyle and a sharp, sour face smiling at me.
“Karen.” I greeted, thankful these compulsions knew who this woman was if not me.
“Let’s get to the PTA meeting, shall we? It was such a good idea on my part to hold the meetings during school hours, don't you think? No more babysitters and late nights!”
“Oh yes, wonderful.”
“Come on then!”
It wasn't like I had a choice.
I followed her through the parking lot towards the other side of the school, huffing the whole way. My pregnant belly swayed with each step, and it seemed impossible to keep up. Karen kept glancing over her shoulder to make sure I wasn’t too far behind but never quite slowed down enough that I could walk at a more leisurely pace. We shuffled into the school’s meeting room, and the air conditioning was welcome.
The soft hum of chatter from the other mothers filled the air, but I couldn’t help but notice how many of them looked utterly exhausted—bags under their eyes, hair pulled back haphazardly, or hidden beneath frizzy ponytails. It was the sort of thing I used to judge them for, but after this week of being forced to walk in my exes' shoes, I found myself feeling…sympathy.
I sat down at one of the folding chairs in the back, hoping I wouldn’t have to do much. I didn't even know what a PTA did, hell, I didn’t even know what PTA stood for! My hands instinctively rested on my belly, and I felt another strong kick to my spine that made me wince.
Karen stood up at the front, giving us a quick rundown of the agenda. It was mostly about organising the upcoming bake sale. There were various plans on the table, and I was hoping to just blend in and nod politely. That was my strategy today—stay out of the spotlight. After the intensity of the last few lives I had to live, spending a day as a pregnant woman being ignored might be nice.
"I think for the bake sale, I should be in charge of the items," Karen said, her voice a little too loud, cutting through the murmurs of the room. “I’ll find you all simple recipes that are easy to make, that way it all gets done satisfactorily.”
She looked so smug as she said it, and I felt a sense of justice start to burn in my heart. The fact that nobody was arguing with her told me this was how things usually went. She was used to getting her way; that needed to stop. I felt myself starting to stand. I tried to fight back but Jane wouldn’t let me; she never could let things go.
“I think we can all pick our own recipes,” I said. “Everybody has an old family cake or cookie recipe hidden away somewhere. If we each make one thing, it’ll be more of a community effort.”
“That’s... uh... an interesting idea,” Karen said, though she didn’t sound particularly convinced. “But we want this to have a certain level of quality and presentation.”
“And you think we can’t handle that?”
“Well, obviously. Remember when Gemma did last year's bake sale, only two kinds of muffins were on offer! It was a disaster! I am the only one who has the time and…dedication to put together something worth doing.”
I felt Jane’s indigent rage building inside me. She had always been the sort to stand up for waitresses when I started getting picky about my food or to step in if she saw somebody abusing a barista. It annoyed me then; it was even more annoying now that I was being forced to act it out.
“My bake sale raised enough for new library books,” Gemma said quietly.
“Exactly.”I smiled. “This isn't about showing off; it’s about doing something good for the children and raising money for the school.”
“I am thinking of the children,” Karen said coolly. “I spend my time actually caring for my children, not doing my make-up.”
There was another murmur, and I looked over the group again; were they seriously judging me for spending time on my own appearance? Suddenly, I wondered if perhaps looking tired was a point of pride here. It seemed so…unfair, if I didn’t put any effort into my appearance, people would judge me. I knew that from my own personal experience, but if I did, people assumed I was a bad mother. There was no winning!
“Just because I like to take pride in my appearance doesn’t mean my son doesn’t get the very best of care,” I said proudly, jutting out my chin and holding my belly. “And I am sure I can handle picking and making my own incredible recipe. As are all these fine parents.”
Karen didn’t seem as thrilled. She huffed, crossing her arms, but I could tell the momentum had shifted in my favour. I had made my point. As the conversation moved forward, I sat back down, my heart pounding in my chest, but a sense of satisfaction slowly blooming inside me. The baby somersaulted, and I giggled. The rest of the meeting went well, and we were dismissed. I couldn't help but smile a little, watching Karen shuffle her papers a little too roughly.
“Nice job, I’ve been wanting to stand up to her for ages.”
The voice came from over my shoulder and I turned to see a man around Jane’s own age. He had a lopsided grin and leaned casually against the table where I was sitting; he was just that little bit too close to be casual. I smiled back instinctively. Was he flirting with me? My heart skipped a beat, but I tried not to let it show.
Across the room, Karen’s smile had disappeared. Her lips were pressed together tightly, and her eyes flicked back and forth between me and the man, narrowing with something I couldn’t quite place. Was she... jealous?
“Thanks.” I smiled.
My heart fluttered, and I could feel a strange hopefulness building in my chest. Jane’s emotions swelled, made all the stronger by her pregnancy hormones. That told me everything I needed to know; she was definitely single again. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help but shuffle a little closer. That empty space in the bed seemed to haunt me; all Jane wanted was to be loved, maybe another dating another parent would be easier than all the other men she’d tried.
“Jason, help me carry these to my car?” Karen asked with a voice so sickly sweet it made me want to gag.
“Oh…” He looked disappointed but took the box regardless. “Sure, I’ll see you later, Jane?”
“I’d like that.” I blushed, trying to hide the heat behind my palms.
I watched him go as Karen rounded on me, face even more tight and pinched.
“You should know better than to undermine me, you slut.” She spat. “You’ve already got two baby daddy’s nowhere to be seen, the only reason Jason is flirting with you is because he knows you’re easy.”
The gall of this woman! I put my hands on my wide hips and refused to back down.
“You’re just jealous because I am still hot, even when I’m pregnant.” I scoffed. “I bet when you were pregnant, you were a whale with ankles the size of your head.”
Karen huffed and flicked the edge of her bob.
“Whatever, I suppose you just cater to a certain demographic.”
I knew exactly what she meant and wanted nothing more than to bite back with a witty retort, but nothing came to mind. My mouth opened and closed a few times, and Karen gave a smug smile before walking off, taking the final words and victory with her. I couldn't get behind all this back and manipulation. I missed being a man. When a guy had a problem with you, you just got into a fistfight or didn't see each other anymore. Jane would have to come right back here next week, and I sent a silent prayer to whoever magic had done this to me that I wouldn’t be with her.
~
I let out a tired breath as I walked back into Jane’s house. I was physically exhausted from the pregnancy, mentally exhausted from dealing with Karen and exhausted in every other way from this endless stream of my ex's lives. Noah was at school, the PTA meeting was done, now I could just sleep. A day in bed sounded like absolute Heaven but my feet froze on the threshold. A familiar feeling of compulsion kept me in place, and I groaned inwardly.
“No…bed is right there, come on…”
The bed was right there. But so was the pile of dirty laundry, and the dirty dishes in the sink, and the stain on the tiles. The need to be a good mother and clean burned at me.
“Jonas, this isn't even your house! You won't be here tomorrow!”
I was so tired, who knows what my life would look like tomorrow when I went to my final ex, the best thing to do would be to rest. But I can’t help myself, my body acted of its own accord, grabbing cleaning supplies and setting myself to work. My belly hung low, baby kicking away as I tirelessly washed dishes and polished countertops.
I finished all the basics and breathed a sigh of relief when the compulsion finally loosened its grip. I flopped down on the couch and groaned; my ankles hurt, and my back, and my…everything really. The baby continued to hammer away at my spleen and I tried in vain to calm them with more belly rubs. A glance at the clock made another sad sigh escape me; it was almost time to pick up Noah, and I hadn’t even thought about what to do for dinner yet.
“How do you do this, Jane?” I asked open air.
I’d kill to have a partner right now, somebody to rub my feet and maybe clean a toilet so I didn’t need to lean over it. I swallowed, that sense of guilt creeping back in. I’d thought I was the perfect partner when we dated; I’d been manly, taken charge, paid for dates…but I’d never offered to help Jane around her place, or help with Noah, or even picked up my own socks.
“I won’t be pregnant tomorrow, thank God…but she will.”
I got to my feet and grabbed the vacuum cleaner; it wasn't enough, and Jane would never know it was me, but it was the only apology I could think of. I forced myself to keep cleaning; I dusted the tops of shelves and got into all those nooks and crannies I knew for a fact she would be too tired to clean for months. I remade all the beds, folded the sheets and organised Noah’s socks (how did he have so many singles? Who loses one sock?)
By the time I was finished, I was about ready to fall asleep standing up, but I didn’t. I drove and picked up Noah, who ran towards me across the playground with a glitter-covered art project. I felt my smile strain as I thought about my perfectly clean carpet.
“Mom! Mom! Look what I made!”
“It’s…beautiful,” I said. “Why won’t we ask your teacher if we can put it up in the classroom?”
“No! I wanna have it home! On the fridge.”
“...of course.”
I mentally sent Jane another apology as the glitter started to shed immediately; there was no way the carpet would survive, but something about Noah’s beaming face made that feel strangely worth it.
“Hey, kiddo, how about pizza for dinner tonight?”
“Yay!!”
I giggled, his little face was actually pretty cute, how had I never noticed that before? We picked up pizza, and I watched, shaking my head in disbelief, as Noah proceeded to pick every topping off and eat them separately. It was actually pretty nice having somebody to share a space with, even if it was just a five-year-old.
He didn't notice how clean the house was of course, even if he did, he would never thank me for it. No kid would. I always thought it was silly when parents said motherhood was a thankless task; people constantly bent over to say how incredible mothers were. After spending just one day in Jane’s shoes, I realised how right they were, though; I’d worked my butt off making this place nice, and nobody would give me so much as a pat on the back. I tried to remember the last time I did something nice without the expectation of thanks or a reward? How many times had Jane cleaned up like this? I never paid attention, let alone thanked her for it. Or any of my exes.
If I was following the pattern, I only had one ex left, after that I could only pray I would be put back in my own body. I cringed, though, my last ex was Kira. With this new perspective, thinking about her made my stomach swirl with guilt. We’d only broken up a week ago; it was all still fresh in my mind, and I bit my lip.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” Noah asked.
“I’m just worried about a friend.” I lied smoothly. “Her boyfriend, uh, ex-boyfriend, did something very mean to her, and I bet she’s still upset about it.”
“Why would he be mean to her? Did she do something wrong?”
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. I didn't want to admit it, even to a little kid who would forget in five minutes.
“No, she didn't do anything wrong.”
“Then why was he mean?”
“That’s a complicated question; maybe I will tell you when you’re older.”
