A few months later, the magic shop's curator returns to your mother with good news. "Thank you so much, Harold!" She shouts with joy, now that the magical device to track you down is completed. "Now, as I stated before working on this," He began to explain. "This can't track down your son or your body; it will only give us the location of the swapping device itself. Finding your son on foot will be entirely up to us from that point on." Turning her expression to a blank, serious one, she nodded her head; it would seem that reclaiming her body was finally achievable, and she wanted to put all effort into making that happen. Fast forward weeks later, and the pair are on a rental boat, treading the same path you did when you made your escape. "He really went out of the way to keep your body for himself." Harold noted, piloting the boat whilst your mother sat toward the front of it. "Yeah, he really did." She repeated, staring at the much younger male body below her head, and rubbing her masculine lips. "That son of mine became obsessed with it way too quickly, thanks to my body. Not to mention I'm sick of being male. I'm getting that body back." The old man nods and clears his throat. "And what if he doesn't want to, are you going to force him? Seems like a good option in case negotiations turn sour." He added, looking down at the tracker. "Of course!" Your mother replies, loudly raising her voice. "He's been molesting my body this whole time; there's no way I'd let him keep it a second longer after a chance like this."
Meanwhile, you were still doing exactly that; slowly, you run your soft tongue against the sexy soles of your dainty milf feet. You've been doing acts like this any chance you could to prove to your body how much you loved her. It certainly enjoyed all the sensations, if the contractions of your tight pussy around your fingers were any evidence of this. By now, the thought of ever returning this body to your parent would never even cross your mind. This milf form was all yours now until the end of time, this decision always strengthened with each furious climax. Gushing fluids, you can't help but lick them up, rubbing your wet fingers against your breasts as well. But then, you noticed something far off in the distance; what appears to be a tiny speck on the horizon. Yet, it would be obvious this speck was not an animal, but a vehicle. A feeling of dread washed over you, so you ran into your shelter and quickly packed up the various outfits you stole from your mother's closet and drawers before you ran away. But not before changing into an outfit, akin to a certain female video game character's who raids tombs. Slipping on some flat, strappy sandals, you bolt away from your shelter; leaving the swap device behind and feeling your pussy still be wet.