Chaos

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

"When you get out, be a good person, act rationally, and don't be impulsive," Officer Gao said. 　　I

nodded without saying a word, picked up my luggage, and walked towards the gate. With a bang, the high gate slammed shut. I took a deep breath; the air outside was so much fresher. I was free. To be precise, because of good behavior, I was released a month early. Although it was only a month, I didn't want to stay in that cell for another second.

Soon I arrived at my home, which I hadn't left for over a year. The door was ajar. I suppressed my excitement and pushed it open. The house was exactly as I had left it. Seeing all this familiarity made me feel warm and comforted. No one was in the living room, but I could hear the sounds of cooking and hushed conversation coming from the kitchen. I walked to the kitchen doorway, and they saw me too, their faces full of surprise.

"Haha, isn't that surprising?" I laughed heartily.

My mother and wife hesitated for a moment, then burst into cheers. I opened my arms, and my wife lightly jumped into my embrace. My mother said into the phone, "Okay, don't come today. Goodbye." She hung up, chuckling softly as she watched me from a distance.

I carried my wife around the living room twice before putting her down, inhaling her long-lost fragrance, and unconsciously tightened my arms around her.

"Honey, let's sit on the sofa. Are you tired from the journey?"

"Honey, you've suffered so much; you've lost so much weight."

I watched my wife chatter on and on, listening quietly to her clear, melodious voice. Although I had served over a year in prison because of her, I didn't regret it, because protecting one's woman is a man's duty.

Over a year ago, I went to pick up my wife from her company. I saw a young man relentlessly harassing Xiaoyu. From a distance, I saw Xiaoyu frowning and trying to avoid him, but he persisted, even reaching out to grab my wife. I rushed over and gave that young man a good beating. This bastard, though tall and strong, was just an empty shell. I knew I didn't kill him, but he still broke three ribs. Even if he wasn't an empty shell, he was no match for me. I learned martial arts from my grandfather since childhood and later served as a special forces soldier for several years; dealing with several people unarmed was a piece of cake.

The other party's family has some influence, and I was the one who started it and injured someone. So they charged me with intentional assault. Luckily, I got help from my former boss, and I was sentenced to a year and a half. Although the price was high, I don't regret it. What kind of man can't even protect his own woman? But prison life has taught me a lesson. Next time, I need to be more careful about how I do things, at least not in public, with so many witnesses.

"Oh dear, I've been talking to you all this time. I'll go get you a cup of tea." My wife got up and walked towards the kitchen.

I leaned back on the sofa, my gaze following my wife's pert, round buttocks. After abstinence for so long, my penis was uncooperatively erect. Seeing that it was still early, I suppressed my emotions.

My wife was wearing a super short white t-shirt today. The pure white color was somewhat transparent, and you could vaguely see the skin underneath. The length only reached her ribs, revealing her flat stomach and cute belly button. Her breasts were perky, filling out the t-shirt. Wow, she wasn't wearing a bra, and you could see her two little nipples. She was wearing denim shorts below, which seemed to be a little small. The dress was tightly pulled up, perfectly showcasing the curves of her hips, and there wasn't a trace of underwear.

Hmm, why isn't my conservative mother saying anything to my wife anymore? My mother wore a short floral dress that reached her hips, with black stockings underneath. Wow, Mom's dressed so fashionably now.

In the kitchen, my wife and mother were talking quietly. My wife would occasionally tug at my mother's hand affectionately, and my mother would playfully pinch my wife's cheek, as if teasing her. I couldn't help but wonder when the relationship between my mother-in-law and daughter-in-law had become so good. Before, their relationship wasn't exactly one of arguing, but they would still occasionally chat with me, their interactions more like those of guests. Now, it was even more than mother and daughter, like close sisters.

Although I was happy to see their good relationship, I couldn't help but be curious. I couldn't help but prick up my ears to eavesdrop on their conversation, but their voices were too soft, just whispers. I vaguely caught some phrases. "...I've already made a phone call..." "You're annoying."

"Xiaoyu, who are you calling annoying?" I asked loudly.

My wife seemed startled when she realized I'd overheard her. Seeing me smiling at her, she patted her chest and said, "I told you, you're annoying, eavesdropping on our conversation!"

"Yeah, it's a women's topic, why are you so nosy?" my mother chimed in.

Seeing their united front, I quickly surrendered and changed the subject: "What are we having for lunch?"

"You won't go hungry," both women said in unison, then giggled.

That evening, it finally reached nine o'clock. I tugged at my wife, who was watching a soap opera. She looked at me blankly. Suddenly understanding what I meant, a blush crept onto her face. She glanced back at my mother, who said, "I'm really tired today, I'm going to rest early." She then gracefully went back to her room.

I scooped up my wife, and amidst her gasp, carried her to the bedroom. I slammed the door shut, threw her onto the bed, and hurriedly began undressing.

"Don't be in such a rush," my wife said sweetly.

"How could I not be impatient? I've been holding it in for so long!" I couldn't help but swear.

"Hehe, serves you right for being so impulsive next time."

I ignored her and pounced on her, kissing her lips while one hand caressed her breasts. My mouth chased her sweet tongue, and my hand's fingers quickly made her nipples erect. Xiaoyu responded passionately, her arms around my neck. I lifted her short t-shirt and buried my face in her snow-white breasts, sucking on them. My hand also played with her other breast, changing its shape in my hands. The kneading released the desire I had been suppressing for over a year, and I suddenly remembered that she didn't wear a bra.

"Why don't you wear a bra? Mom doesn't say anything."

"It's hot in the summer. Mom and I are very close. You don't understand. Women hate this thing the most in the summer."

I reached down, unbuttoned her shorts, pulled off her jeans, and threw them far away. Inside, she was wearing a tiny lace thong, the narrow strip of fabric barely visible through the slit, no wonder there were no panty lines.

"Didn't you used to refuse to wear thongs?"

"They weren't comfortable before, but you get used to them after a while, and they go well with clothes. With tight clothes, you can't see any lines."

I slapped her pert buttocks hard. "You slut, who am I wearing this for if I'm not home?"

My wife protested. "I'm not wearing it for anyone else. I always wear suits outside."

I pulled down the thong, which was barely the size of my palm, and reached between her legs. It was wet. My finger slipped inside her, and Xiaoyu let out a muffled groan. I rubbed her clitoris with my thumb, while my middle finger stirred inside her vagina.

With each movement, her juices flowed freely.

Suddenly, I felt something was wrong, but I couldn't figure it out. I looked up between my wife's legs—it was completely bare. Damn, no pubic hair. A wave of panic washed over me. What was going on?

"Why are you without pubic hair?" I asked her in a low voice.

"Wh...what? I shaved it off."

"Why would you shave for no reason?"

"Ah, um, Mom said that women who shave their body hair are less likely to get gynecological diseases."

"That?"

"Hmm."

My mind inexplicably conjured up images of my mother's legs encased in black stockings, her constantly fluttering short skirt, and the mysterious area that appeared and disappeared—was it also...? I shook my head, not daring to imagine any further.

I leaned back against the headboard and lay down, holding my wife in my arms. My arms tightened, and my wife understood. She extended her small, fragrant tongue and began to lick my nipples, sucking and licking them intermittently, gently tugging and biting them with her teeth.

I half-closed my eyes, savoring the woman's service, the pleasurable sensations surging through my nerves.

My hand stroked my wife's hair, gently pushing her head down, and my wife gave me a glare.

Her tongue rolled around on my body, slowly sliding down. I felt a wetness on my penis, and her tongue swept over it, slowly moving to my scrotum, gently touching it. Suddenly, her lips enveloped one of my testicles, gently sucking, her tongue constantly sweeping across my scrotum. This sudden attack made my penis twitch. Xiaoyu buried her head between my legs, concentrating on servicing my two testicles. Watching the woman beneath me so focused, a sense of conquest, as a man, welled up within me.

My wife slowly moved up and enveloped my penis in her mouth, her tongue licking around the coronal sulcus, occasionally gliding over the urethral opening. It had been a long time since I'd enjoyed oral sex from my wife, though she never seemed to have such skill before.

Was this some kind of epiphany? Waves of tingling pleasure washed over me, interrupting my thoughts as I succumbed to desire.

My hands, which had been gently stroking her head, now gripped her hair tightly, veins bulging, and my breathing became heavy and rapid. My wife, in turn, quickened her sucking, her small hands constantly caressing my scrotum.

"Ah,"

my wife's small mouth tightly enveloped mine, her head buried deep between my legs, waiting motionless for my ejaculation. Seeing my apparent withdrawal, she gripped my thighs tightly, preventing me from moving.

I stared in disbelief as my wife swallowed the semen, finally licking her lips.

"Why did you swallow it all?"

"What, you didn't like it?"

"I liked it, but..."

"That was before. I was just rewarding you for working so hard!"

I was so touched that I wanted to hug my wife, but she gently pushed my hands away. "Your mission isn't finished yet," she said, winking mischievously at me, teasing my half-dead penis, and then burying her head in it to stroke it.

My wife skillfully teased it a few times, and my penis slowly stood up. Ignoring the remaining fluid, she opened her small mouth and took it in, looking at me with alluring eyes. Seeing me staring at her, she showed no shyness, bravely meeting my gaze. Seeing this different side of her, my penis filled her small mouth completely. "Mmm,"

I growled, turning my wife over. I aimed my spear at her delicate flower and thrust it in. There was

a lot of vaginal fluid, and my wife didn't seem to feel any discomfort, only letting out a soft moan.

Everyone says that marriage has a seven-year itch, and I always thought it was nonsense. Now I still think so.

My love with Xiaoyu was like the changing seasons, sprouting in spring and bearing fruit in autumn—everything happened so naturally. I met her before I went to military academy; back then, she was a bookish student. When I, the school bully, suddenly appeared before her, her pale face, contorted with fear, seemed to pierce my heart like a bullet.

At that moment, I knew I would marry no one but her. So, I was nowhere to be found during fights; I was constantly dragging my cronies around for advice, relentlessly pursuing their haphazardly cobbled-together, terrible ideas. This also brought me an unexpected reward: the principal praised my reformed ways, removing all my disciplinary records and writing glowing comments.

Away from fighting and brawling, away from those fiery, rebellious girls, I began my pure first love. It was my first love, even though I was no longer a virgin, but with Xiaoyu, I felt the stirrings of first love for the first time. I tossed and turned at night, unable to sleep, and spent my days drowsy.时刻关注着她的一颦一笑，偶尔一次微微的皱了眉头，我都心焦不已。不知道自己哪里唐突了佳人。

难得拿起笔的我破天荒的写起了情书，可恨文学细胞太少咬烂了笔头也写不满半张纸。把班上的才子强掳来，威逼加利诱，不写挨打写了帮他揍欺负他的小瘪三。才子勉为其难的捉刀了一篇，华丽辞藻锦绣文章看的我牙齿都酸倒了。只好布置手下小弟每人一星期一篇，高考时兄弟伙语文成绩大幅提高这却是始料不及的。

在我像火一样猛烈的追求中，在隔绝了其他众多追求者的骚扰。筱雨渐渐的敞开了冷漠的篱笆，打开了心灵的堤防。在小河边，树林里她那肆意挥洒的笑声像银铃一般清脆，让知道冰山美人也有调皮的小动作，狡黠的恶作剧。 I was adrift in this river of love, happiness I dared not trespass upon. After what seemed like an eternity, I nervously and tremblingly grasped her small hand. A tingling, electric sensation coursed through my body, and my steps became unsteady. Seeing her blushing, rosy face, I mustered my courage and held her hand tightly, refusing to let go.

From our first holding hands to our first kiss, everything was filled with excitement, clumsiness, and helplessness. Everything was like a first-timer's pilgrimage, proceeding step by step in the most traditional way.

Later, she also applied to a university in the same city as me, and the way I addressed her changed from the lovestruck fool to my married husband. Although I still occasionally missed her sweet, crisp "foolish fool," she would say playfully, "I want to call you husband, because you're mine alone." How could I bear to refuse? In our marriage, we are mutually dependent. She sometimes acts like a little girl, throwing tantrums and being affectionate, but I love her endearing, innocent side. This was also the reason why the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law used to be outwardly friendly but inwardly at odds. My mother always said I spoiled her too much, and I would just laugh it off. My mother said that sons grow up and are no longer under their mothers' control, so I flattered her even more. It was like a happy trouble; I always managed to please both sides and play both sides. I don't know why I, who am not good at handling interpersonal relationships, could mediate so well.

I only realized it in prison: it was because they loved me and enjoyed my clumsy performance. Now they are as close as sisters, perhaps because of the affection I built up by supporting and encouraging each other in prison.

What more could I ask for? I only hope that I won't be so impulsive in the future, and that I will think more carefully and considerately when dealing with things, so that I can enjoy this family happiness for a long time.

In prison, I missed them constantly—my mother's love and my wife's gentleness. And yesterday, my wife's passionate tenderness also proved that she missed me all the time. In the past, our intimacy, although it was a fusion of body and soul, always lacked a bit of passion; everything was just following a set procedure. A kiss, undressing—simple prelude, accompanied by my wife's deliberately suppressed moans. When I made even the slightest, more suggestive request, she blushed and called me shameless. Although I admired her ladylike demeanor, the image of my past, wilder self flashed through my mind, and I couldn't help but greedily imagine what it would be like to see my wife's pure face paired with wild, wanton movements.

Despite my repeated requests and countless sweet nothings, she only tentatively explored those unconventional actions. Occasionally, seeing my dejected expression, she would frown and clumsily manipulate my penis, her rosy lips hesitantly swaying beside me. Seeing my distressed look, she would quickly lick the glans with her tongue. Finally, she reluctantly took it into her mouth, watching me grimace as her teeth scraped against me. Angrily, she spat it out, slapped my stomach, and said, "I told you I can't do it, I don't want it." I had no choice but to hug her again, coaxing and cajoling her, continuing this arduous journey.

A new life begins, bringing new encounters. The harmonious mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship, though somewhat strange, is genuinely loving towards each other—what more could I ask for? My wife's passion in bed is like a fine, aged wine, intense and mellow, offering experiences I've never had before. Her fair and dignified face, her skin glistening with sweat, her love juices glistening, her moans of pleasure—she's like a fallen angel, her face flushed from exertion, her beautiful eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling slightly. A mixture of purity and lust, like the union of angel and devil, leaves me wanting more. Like a boy experiencing sex for the first time, I can never get enough. That night, I made love four times, wanting to release all the passion in my heart at once. Looking at my wife's tired body, though she still stubbornly wanted to satisfy my long-absent desires, I knew at that moment that her love for me was intense, that she was open to me and willing to give everything. How could I bear to be selfish? In my semi-forced action, we embraced tightly and fell asleep sweetly.

******************

In the following days, I didn't rush to find work, intending to rest for a while and plan my future. My previous job was terminated due to my imprisonment, but I wasn't worried about money for the time being. I had a secret stash of money, a special allowance from my years of military service, which I checked and found still had over 100,000 yuan left. This put my mind at ease. A grown man can't really ask a woman for money, even though we're family; perhaps it's my patriarchal pride acting up.

My wife is a white-collar worker at a large company, working a regular nine-to-five job. I noticed that she always wore dark-colored office lady outfits when she went out, making her look somewhat mature. Only when she came home did she dress fashionably and revealingly, like a little enchantress. My wife hadn't changed much; in front of outsiders, she was still that aloof, icy beauty. A sense of superiority welled up within me. This perfectly elegant and dignified woman—only I could see her wanton side. I was truly fortunate.

My mother owned a clothing store in the commercial district; I would occasionally visit, and the manager handled everything. When my father was in high school, he divorced me because of his mistress. An older man experiencing a second spring in love is surprisingly impulsive; he declared he would give up everything to get a divorce and be with his delicate mistress. My mother, who initially didn't want a divorce, also lost heart. She never imagined that twenty years of relationship could crumble before youthful passion. So, without any arguments, they went to the civil affairs bureau for a negotiated divorce. They did divide their property, though I don't know the specifics, but it was a relatively amicable separation.

Devastated by this, my mother succumbed to grief for a while. For about a month, she stayed home every day drinking with cooked food, becoming a complete alcoholic. At the time, I was busy out partying, and seeing the house empty and deserted, I came home even later. During her most difficult period, I didn't think to care for or comfort her, and I've always felt guilty about it.

Thankfully, after a month, my mother recovered. She stopped drinking and started frequently playing cards with the women in the neighborhood. My mother, who never played cards before, seemed to have completely forgotten about my father after becoming addicted to mahjong.

I initially thought it was just a passing fancy and that my father would eventually realize how good his wife was. But things don't always go according to plan. My father, like an old tree blossoming with joy, had a daughter, and there was no going back. Women can't live without men, just as men can't live without women. Having tasted love for the first time, I understood that my mother still needed someone to care for her. But I could never bring it up with her. Even though I understood this, the thought of a stranger coming to our house made my heart clench with pain; how could I possibly bring it up myself?

Thankfully, my mother didn't seem to have any such thoughts. Perhaps she had lost faith in men. She just played mahjong occasionally, then opened a clothing store, but her main focus remained on mahjong. She stopped paying attention to her appearance. A once mature and beautiful woman, she would just casually tie her hair up and throw on clothes without a second thought, let alone put on makeup.

As a result, my mother transformed from an elegant and intellectual beauty into an ordinary middle-aged woman.

My mother's mahjong skills have made her a renowned mahjong master in the neighborhood. Now, she's paid more attention to her appearance again, wearing appropriate light makeup and trendy, form-fitting clothes. In her forties, she looks ten years younger. The few crow's feet around her eyes have faded, and her face has a healthy rosy glow. Even when she was younger, her clothing was always very conservative; she would never wear anything even slightly revealing. But since I came back, in just a few days, a dazzling array of outfits has appeared before me. My mother-in-law and I, mother and daughter-in-law, displayed a dazzling array of stockings—black, purple, white, fishnet, sheer, patterned—floral skirts, denim shorts, and low-cut tank tops. They looked like two sisters vying for attention. Women dress to please themselves; my wife has me, but what about my mother? I know there's a reason for all this.

I'm relieved that my mother has a positive attitude and has regained her vibrant energy. But a nameless heartache lingers in my heart. I know it's unsolvable; how can I explain it, or even begin to explain it?

I've been back for a few days now, but my mother hasn't mentioned it. My wife and mother probably know about their close relationship, but she hasn't told me either. Am I being paranoid? It seems I should ask her directly. It's not interference, but women in love are often blinded, and I don't want her to get hurt. I'd protect them both with my life, no matter who they are. Today is the fourth day since I came back. When I woke up, it was already 9:30. The weather outside was beautiful, with sunlight streaming through the window and filling the entire bedroom. People really can't be idle; once they are, they become lazy. I've slept in for several days in a row. Well, thankfully, I got up an hour early today. I couldn't help it; we've been chatting late every night for the past few days, and my friends are very concerned about where I've been for the past year. To those who don't know the truth, I told them I was doing construction work in the Northwest. This drew a lot of criticism, with people saying, "Is the West some kind of ancient history?" Hearing these comments warmed my heart.

My wife has already gone to work, and there's no other sound at home. My mother has probably gone out too. After washing up, I turned on the computer and headed to the kitchen to find something to eat. As I passed my mother's room, I heard voices coming from inside, sounding like she was on the phone. The door was closed, and I stopped, inexplicably wanting to eavesdrop. It wasn't that I had any lewd thoughts; in my memory, my mother never hid her phone calls from me, let alone behind closed doors. The voices weren't loud, seemingly deliberately suppressed, but I could still make out the gist of it by pressing my ear against the door.

"Didn't I tell you? My son's back." There was a hint of coquettishness in her tone, though I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination.

"Yes, I want to keep him company; he must be suffering in there."

"Ugh, you're so mean, talking nonsense!" Then came a burst of giggling; I don't know what on the phone made her laugh so hard.

It must be that man on the phone; I guess I wasn't wrong. Judging from their tone, their relationship seemed quite close, but why didn't she tell me? Was she afraid I'd object?

"I've been thinking about it, um..."

"I think I'll come see you this afternoon."

"Okay then."

...

I didn't listen any further, seeing how obedient my mother was to that man. I was certain of my suspicions, and felt a mix of emotions. Although it felt awkward, elders also have the right to pursue their own happiness.

I shouldn't oppose this; that would be too selfish. I wondered what the man was like, but I imagined him to be a refined middle-aged man, most likely an intellectual, handsome, and somewhat shrewd scholar who had won my mother's heart. That would be good; he would have a certain taste in life and be able to treat people peacefully. My mother's late-life romance was a relatively ideal situation; otherwise, I wouldn't have agreed to repeat the tragedy of her previous marriage. I would find an opportunity to bring it up with my mother without being abrupt, so that she could be open about it and know that her son supported her pursuit of happiness.

I cooked a bowl of noodles in the kitchen, and just as I was finishing it, my mother's door opened. I saw her wearing a brown knitted jacquard vest dress, the large stitches revealing a light-colored strapless bra underneath.

Her neckline was very low, revealing the fullness of her upper breasts, adorned with a delicate platinum necklace. She wore a short, floral pleated skirt that reached her hips, through which lace panties were faintly visible. Black stockings extended to her thighs, and she wore extremely high, thin heels.

Seeing that I was up, my mother looked somewhat surprised. I didn't speak; I was speechless, stunned by my mother's attire. Although I had become somewhat immune to such fashion choices these past few days, this provocative and striking outfit, making her appear like a vibrant young woman, left me speechless. My mother didn't seem inclined to speak either, and we stared at each other for about half a minute.

"Why are you up so early today?"

"Well, I've been getting plenty of sleep these past few days."

"That's true, you should go out and have some fun, don't just stay cooped up at home."

"Mom, you look so beautiful today. "

"I'm an old woman, why are you still happy with your mother?"

"Of course I am, people will definitely think you're only thirty."

"Stop talking nonsense. Did you hear me? Don't always stay cooped up at home. Go out and clear your head."

"I just want to stay home with you. I've missed you so much."

"Oh, silly child, you're not a grown-up anymore. I'm going out for a bit. Take care of lunch yourself. I'll cook you something nice for dinner."

"Mom..."

"Hmm, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Okay, I'm leaving then."

...

Bang, the door closed. I slumped into a chair, all my strength gone. I had wanted to tell my mother, "Go and bravely find your own happiness. Your son supports you." But seeing her attire and excited expression, I couldn't bring myself to say it. A sudden unease settled in my heart. I tried to think, but couldn't come up with anything.

I don't know how long I pondered, but the ringing of my phone startled me awake. It was my childhood friend, Wang Fei, calling. He was my chief strategist in middle school; he devised many of our plans. That guy was full of mischief; he could come up with a brilliant, insidious idea with just a glance. Unfortunately, this kid is a coward; he's terrified of blood and faints at the sight of it. Although he's a bit of a wimp in this respect, his strengths outweigh his weaknesses, making him a key member of the group.

"Brother Liang, I just found out you're out. I wanted to visit you yesterday, but I was afraid your mother would be upset."

"It's okay, I just got out too. I'll come over whenever I'm free." My mother has always had a problem with my high school friends, considering them all unreliable hooligans. She doesn't seem to realize that her son is the real hooligans.

"Okay, sure, I'll sort out what I'm doing and come find you. Brother Liang, we've missed you terribly. I'm going to find some girls and give you a good time." "

Get lost, I haven't messed around in ages. Haha," I added, "I miss my brothers too."

There was no rest after hanging up. My friends all knew I was back and called to say hello. Especially Tiger, who called, saying he wanted to follow me now that I was back. Tiger was my closest buddy back then, and he'd taken a knife for me more than once. But everything was still in the works, and I couldn't readily agree to his request. We weren't young and naive anymore; everyone had families to support. When I mentioned family, Tiger, this big, strong man, started sobbing on the phone. He'd had a rough few years. While I was in the army at military academy, Tiger's family went south to do business. At first, things were good; they made a lot of money, and had a house, a car, a wife, and children. But then disaster struck. Tiger's father was swindled by Taiwanese people, the company went bankrupt, and his father fell ill, spending all the family's last savings. After his father died, Tiger, lacking his father's abilities, became increasingly destitute. For his wife and children, he gritted his teeth and became a henchman for a boss, essentially returning to his old ways.

That was bad enough, except for the danger—could it be more dangerous than mining? Everything was going smoothly until he noticed something was wrong with his wife. He hired a private investigator, and sure enough, she was having an affair. When I heard that, I thought, "Damn it, it's all this same old mess." I asked him how he handled it and if he needed his brother's help. He sobbed and said, "Never mind, for the sake of the child." I was furious and told him, "Tiger, why are you such a coward now?" He hesitated, so I interrupted him and told him to come over and explain things clearly so we could make a decision.

After that call, my mood didn't improve at all. First, my wife was harassed, and I got into jail for fighting back. Tiger's actions were even worse; he was cheated on and didn't dare to retaliate. Is he even a man? Even if he has some unspeakable difficulties, does he just let these scumbags and adulterers go free? I was so angry at lunch that I didn't eat anything, just haphazardly stuffing some food around the house. The private investigator Tiger mentioned kept swirling in my mind. In this society where morals are declining, there must be a huge market for them. When I was young, I also messed around with women, didn't I? Men often can't control their lower bodies. I only stopped messing around after finding my true love. This project is very promising and suits my profession perfectly; reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance against ordinary people are a piece of cake.

I stayed in my room, planning this project, making a list of all the equipment I needed. By the time I finished, it was already evening. I packed up my things and was about to go to the gym to exercise when I heard the door open. My mother rushed to her bathroom. The sound of the shower was deafening, and a wave of disgust washed over me. She must have been with that man. I didn't want to think about it; maybe it was the hot weather. After hearing about Tiger's experience today, I felt inexplicably disgusted by these clandestine relationships. Why couldn't they establish a relationship before doing these things? Why couldn't they let their children know? Was there something shameful they wanted to hide?

I took a deep breath and leaned back on the bed to relax. I slapped myself hard. How could I be thinking so maliciously? The other person was my own mother. It was a sliver of suspicion and anger that clouded my judgment. I needed to calm down.

After a long while, I heard the door to my mother's room open, followed by her calling my name. For some inexplicable reason, I didn't answer, lying in bed pretending to sleep. I opened my eyes slightly and saw my mother, wrapped in a

bath towel, standing in my doorway. Seeing me asleep, she let out a deep sigh of relief, seemingly relaxing as she walked towards her own bedroom. I didn't want to think about the reason for her deep sigh and continued to lean against the bed. A moment later, I heard the sound of a phone call coming from my mother's room. The door wasn't closed, and the sound wasn't quiet. I strained my ears to hear what was going on.

"You're so annoying, insisting on doing it in that place today. Several people came in, I was terrified."

"Isn't it better in the room, husband, brother, dad?"

"Mmm, so much, it's all leaking out."

"Hehe, you're so disgusting..."

Hearing my mother's voice, like a little girl's coquettishness, struck me like a thunderbolt, a sound from hell. Every pore on my body seemed to explode. Those few words from my mother swirled in my mind, and I couldn't hear anything else.

"How could this be, how could this be," I murmured.

No matter the circumstances, I couldn't imagine my sacred mother uttering such vulgar words, and so smoothly, with a coquettish tone more like lovers' banter. Yes, they were lovers. But I couldn't bear the thought of that pristine image crumbling in my mind.

The sounds from that room continued, occasionally punctuated by faint moans. I couldn't distinguish them anymore; my blood rushed to my head, accompanied by a suffocating feeling of oxygen deprivation.

"This is really disgusting."

"No, I can't say it."

"I felt guilty saying it now that he wasn't home."

"He's asleep, what if he wakes up?"

"It's so exciting, but my husband doesn't want it anymore."

"Mmm, I'm wet."

"Are you really going to moan?" My mother seemed hesitant.

"Good son, son, come and fuck your mother."

"I only want you, my good son."

"Mmm, I'm already touching down there."

"Mmm, it's never enough, just thinking about you makes me wet."

"It's in... ah..."

I couldn't listen anymore, because I was shamefully hard. In the past, having received traditional ethical education, I was essentially a traditional person. A loving mother and son, brotherly love, and a respectful husband and wife were the norm for a normal life. In the past, I would scoff at news reports of incest abroad, thinking it was no different from that of beasts.

But in just a few words, the object of my affection was shattered, and my cherished spiritual world collapsed. Destruction is always easier than construction. The image of the child who cared for me, scolded me when I made mistakes, and cried when I was hurt, blurred in an instant. I felt that the once close, flesh-and-blood connection had become as distant as an insurmountable chasm. It wasn't just because of her shameless, lewd words; I blamed myself for being so vulnerable. I should have only felt anger and shame, but now I also had desire—anger, desire, and self-reproach all mixed together. Heh, I'm not exactly a strong, unyielding person either. I seem to have succumbed to this indirect stimulation of desire. What words could I possibly say to anyone else?

It was already dark, and the room was quiet and still. I sat up somewhat blankly, suddenly feeling a damp, cool sensation between my legs. I sighed dejectedly. Just as I was wondering what to do, the door opened, followed by my wife's frantic shout,

"It's so hot! It's so hot! Go take a shower!"

Seeing me sitting on the bed, my panting wife waved me off and went into the bathroom. A bang followed by the sound of the safety lock, and the rustling of running water could be heard from inside. Still lost in thought, I ignored it all.

The atmosphere at dinner was slightly somber; perhaps it was just my imagination. Several times I secretly peeked at my mother, but I couldn't discern anything from her face. At the dinner table, the topic of work came up again. "Xiao Liang, what kind of work are you planning to do next?"

"Yeah, what do you want to do,

honey?" my wife asked. "I haven't decided yet," I said nonchalantly.

"How about we go on a trip to relax?" my mother suggested.

"Who are you going with?" I asked deliberately.

"I can't get away. I have a case at work, and I have to work overtime lately."

I looked at my mother. "What's the point of going with an old woman like me? I'm thinking of expanding the shop."

What did she mean? Did she think I was in the way at home? A bad feeling crept into my heart. But I quickly dismissed the thought. My mother probably had a lover but wasn't ready to tell me yet. How could it be between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law… I couldn't help but curse myself for being shameless, for my mind becoming so dark.

After dinner, the two of them went to the living room to watch a soap opera, huddled together, whispering and playfully bickering. I wasn't really interested in getting involved. I stayed in my room, browsing the internet, my mind racing, determined to get to the bottom of things tomorrow.

My wife came home to sleep. I turned around and saw her hair was a little messy, and her clothes were pulled down a bit. These two, mother and daughter-in-law, really know how to have their fun. Her fair breasts were barely concealed, and a strand of hair clung to her lips. My desire surged,

and I wanted to release all the pent-up excitement from the day. I picked her up by the waist and kicked the door shut. I pushed her onto the bed and roughly pulled up her tank top. My hands kneaded her fair breasts, my teeth gently biting her bright red nipples.

My wife, startled, recovered, her arms opening comfortably, and she let out soft moans. My hands roamed over her beautiful body, kissing her neck, earrings, and cheeks. When my mouth returned to her firm breasts, I suddenly noticed a large bruise.

"Why are your breasts bruised? What happened?"

"Ah...why are you being so rude? I bumped into something by accident, it hurts so much, honey."

"Oh."

"Stop talking, come on." She then spread her legs and gently hooked her foot around my waist.

Hearing my wife's call, I didn't care about foreplay anymore. My penis slid into her hole, going all the way in without any resistance. Her vagina was wet, and with each thrust, it brought out a stream of vaginal fluid that splashed onto the sheets.

I was a little surprised by my wife's wetness and blurted out, "You slut, why are you so wet today?" As soon as I said it, I regretted it. My wife didn't like me using vulgar language.

"You slut missed your husband, fuck me now."

My usually dignified and elegant wife had shed her mask and was particularly wild in bed. In a fit of rage, I continued to verbally abuse my wife.

"You little bitch, tell me why there's so much juice in your cunt. Did you wipe it yourself in the bathroom?"

"No, you just washed yourself."

I hoisted Xiaoyu's long legs onto my shoulders and thrust into her again and again, each time penetrating deeply to the bottom. My wife's brows furrowed and opened with my movements, a mixture of pain and pleasure on her face.

"Husband, you're fucking me the hardest, you're going to fuck me right to my heart!" Xiaoyu shouted.

"You slut, you still want to be fucked?"

"No, without your permission, husband, this little bitch wouldn't dare."

"Husband, lift up a little, I want to see your cock going in and out of my cunt."

I lifted myself up a bit as she said, and Xiaoyu stared fascinated at our point of contact, gently caressing the point of contact, then inserting her slender middle finger into her cunt. Her thumb rubbed her clitoris. Because of Xiaoyu's finger, her cunt tightened even more, tightly gripping my penis, like a thousand tiny mouths sucking.

...

The next day, I bought some necessary tools and returned home. There was some noise in my mother's bedroom, so I slowly and quietly approached. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see right into the room. My mother was lying on the bed, talking on the phone. Her embroidered short-sleeved top was unbuttoned, messily covering half of her breast. Her other, white and tender breast was exposed to the air, its dark red nipple erect. Her two shapely thighs were encased in black pantyhose, and she wore no other clothing, which was scattered haphazardly on the bed and floor.

My mother's slender hands were caressing her crotch, and I looked closer and saw that the crotch of her pantyhose had been ripped open with force, revealing her alluring vulva. Her crotch, like my wife's, was completely bare. This was my mother's vagina, and I couldn't help but describe it in vulgar terms. At that moment, all my morals were swept away, and I stared intently at the place where my mother had given me life and raised me. The phone was right next to my mother's ear, and she was tilting her head to hold it down. One hand roamed over her upper body, sometimes touching her breasts, sometimes her lower abdomen, sometimes gently biting her lips.

The other hand never left her vulva; while she talked to her lover on the phone, she was also touching her own genitals.

I couldn't resist slipping my hand into my pants, grasping my penis and slowly stroking it, my eyes continuing to follow the erotic scene in the room. I knew I shouldn't be standing here, much less watching my mother's beautiful body. Although my once dignified and elegant mother lay sprawled, her slender fingers were now thrusting and rubbing between her bare pubic hair. Under her lover's guidance, she was uttering increasingly lewd words. Those outrageous words were things I had never even considered, things I never dared to imagine coming from my mother's mouth. But at that moment, these words, mingled with moans, made me rooted to the spot, unwilling to leave.

"Ah, I want my son's big cock..." The mother's pert buttocks writhed on the bed, her hips lifting up as if welcoming the large cock.

"Ah, yes, so good."

"Come on, come on too."

"Come on, do me with your son... oh... ah..." The mother reached her climax, moaning loudly without restraint, her skin flushed red. My hand, inside my underwear, quickened its pace. I breathed heavily through my nose, my heart pounding uncontrollably, waves of tingling sensations spreading through my nerves. My brain felt dizzy from insufficient blood supply, and my body leaned weakly against the wall. Slowly, I recovered from this powerful and prolonged pleasure. Seeing the mother lying lazily on the bed after her climax, seemingly half-asleep, I wondered if she had heard the noise outside the door. I quietly slipped away.

"When you get out, behave yourself, be rational, don't be so impulsive," Officer Gao said.

I nodded without speaking, picked up my luggage, and walked towards the gate. With a bang, the high gate closed. I took a deep breath; the air outside was so much fresher. I was free—or rather, I was released a month early because of good behavior. Even though it was only a month, I didn't want to stay in that cell for another second.

Soon I arrived at my home, which I'd left over a year ago. The door was ajar. Suppressing my excitement, I pushed it open. The house was exactly as I'd left it; seeing all this familiarity warmed my heart. No one was in the living room, but I could hear the sounds of cooking and quiet conversation coming from the kitchen. I walked to the kitchen doorway, and they saw me, their faces full of surprise.

"Haha, isn't that surprising?" I laughed heartily.

My mother and wife hesitated for a moment, then burst into cheers. I opened my arms, and my wife lightly jumped into them. My mother said into the phone, "Okay, don't come today. Goodbye." She hung up, chuckling softly as she watched me from a distance.

I hugged my wife and spun around the living room twice before putting her down, inhaling her long-lost fragrance, and unconsciously tightened my arms around her.

"Honey, let's sit on the sofa. Are you tired from the journey?"

"Honey, you've suffered so much; you've lost so much weight."

I watched my wife chatter on and on, listening quietly to her clear, melodious voice. Although I spent over a year in prison because of her, I didn't regret it, because protecting one's woman is a man's duty.

Over a year ago, I went to pick up my wife from her company. I saw a young man relentlessly harassing Xiaoyu. From a distance, I saw Xiaoyu frowning and trying to avoid him, but he persisted, even reaching out to grab my wife. I rushed over and gave that young man a good beating. Although he was tall and strong, he was just an empty shell. I knew I didn't kill him, but he still broke three ribs. Even if he wasn't an empty shell, he wouldn't be a match for me. I learned martial arts from my grandfather since I was a child, and later served as a special forces soldier for several years. Taking on several people unarmed was no problem for me.

The other party's family had some influence, and I was the one who started the fight and injured someone. So they charged me with intentional assault. Luckily, I contacted my former boss, and I was sentenced to a year and a half. Although the price was high, I don't regret it. What kind of man can't even protect his own woman? But prison life taught me a lesson. Next time, I need to be more careful about how I do things, at least not in public, with so many witnesses.

"Oh dear, I've been talking to you all this time. I'll go get you some tea." My wife got up and walked towards the kitchen.

I leaned back on the sofa, my gaze following my wife's pert, round buttocks. After abstinence for so long, my penis was uncooperatively erect. Seeing that it was still early, I suppressed my emotions.

My wife was wearing a super short white t-shirt today. The pure white color was somewhat transparent, and you could vaguely see the skin underneath. The length only reached her ribs, revealing her flat stomach and cute belly button. Her pert breasts stretched the t-shirt, and wow, she wasn't wearing a bra underneath; you could see her two little nipples. She wore denim shorts below, which seemed a little small. They were tightly bound, perfectly showing off the curves of her buttocks, and you couldn't see any underwear lines.

Huh, why isn't my conservative mother saying anything to my wife anymore? My mother is wearing a short floral dress that reaches her hips, with black stockings. Wow, Mom's dressed so fashionably now.

In the kitchen, my wife and mother are talking quietly. My wife occasionally pulls on my mother's hand and acts coquettishly, while my mother playfully pinches my wife's cheek as if teasing her. I can't help but wonder, when did the relationship between my mother-in-law and daughter-in-law become so good? Before, their relationship wasn't exactly one of arguing, but they would still chat with me from time to time, their interactions more like those of guests. Now, it's even more than mother and daughter, like close sisters.

Although I'm happy to see their good relationship, I can't help but be a little curious. I can't help but prick up my ears and eavesdrop on their conversation, but their voices are too soft, just whispers. I can vaguely hear some phrases. "...I've already made a phone call..." "You're annoying."

"Xiaoyu, who are you calling annoying?" I asked loudly.

My wife seemed startled when she realized I had heard her. Seeing me smiling at her, she patted her chest and said, "I told you you're annoying, eavesdropping on our conversation."

"Yeah, it's a women's topic, why are you so nosy?" my mother chimed in.

Seeing their united front, I quickly surrendered and changed the subject: "What are we having for lunch?"

"You won't go hungry," the two women said in unison, then giggled.

That evening, it finally reached nine o'clock. I tugged at my wife, who was watching a soap opera. She looked at me blankly. Suddenly understanding what I meant, a blush crept onto her face. I glanced back at my mother, who said, "I'm really tired today, I'm going to rest early." She then leisurely went back to her room.

I scooped up my wife, and amidst her gasp, carried her to the bedroom. I slammed the door shut, threw her onto the bed, and hurriedly began to undress.

"Don't be in such a hurry," my wife said sweetly.

"How can I not be? I've been holding back for so long!" I couldn't help but swear.

"Hehe, serves you right for being so impulsive next time."

I ignored her and pounced on her, kissing her small mouth while my hand caressed her breasts. My mouth chased her sweet tongue, and my hand's hand quickly made her nipples erect. Xiaoyu responded passionately, her arms around my neck. I lifted her short t-shirt and buried my face in her snow-white breasts, sucking on them. My hand also played with her other breast, changing its shape in my hands. The kneading also unleashed the desire I had suppressed for over a year. Suddenly, I remembered that she didn't wear a bra.

"Why don't you wear a bra? Mom doesn't say anything."

"It's hot in the summer. Mom and I are very close. You don't understand. Women hate this thing the most in the summer."

I reached down, unbuttoned her shorts, and pulled her jeans off, throwing them far away. Underneath, there was a small lace thong. The narrow strip of fabric was wedged into the slit, no wonder there was no panty line.

"Didn't you used to refuse to wear thongs?"

"They weren't comfortable before, but you get used to them after wearing them a lot, and they go well with clothes. With tight clothes, you can't see the lines."

I slapped her pert buttocks hard. "You slut, who am I wearing this for when I'm not home?"

My wife protested. "I'm not wearing it for anyone else. I always wear suits outside."

I pulled down the thong, which was barely the size of my palm, and reached between her legs. It was wet. My finger slipped into her vagina, and Xiaoyu let out a muffled groan. I rubbed her clitoris with my thumb, and my middle finger stirred inside her vagina.

With each movement, her juices flowed freely.

Suddenly, I felt something was wrong, but I couldn't figure it out. I looked up between my wife's legs—it was completely bare. Damn, no pubic hair. A wave of panic washed over me. What was going on?

"Why are you shaved?" I asked her in a low voice.

"Wh...what? I shaved it."

"Why would you shave for no reason?"

"Ah, um, Mom said that women who shave their body hair are less likely to get gynecological diseases."

"That?"

"Hmm."

My mind inexplicably conjured up images of my mother's legs encased in black stockings, her constantly fluttering short skirt, and the mysterious area that appeared and disappeared. Was it also...? I shook my head, not daring to imagine it anymore.

I leaned against the headboard and lay down, holding my wife in my arms. My arms tightened, and my wife understood what I meant. She stretched out her small, fragrant tongue and began to lick my nipples, sucking and licking them from time to time, gently tugging and biting them with her teeth.

I half-closed my eyes, savoring the woman's service, the pleasurable sensation surging through my nerves.

My hand stroked my wife's hair, gently pushing her head down, and my wife rolled her eyes at me.

Her tongue rolled around on my body, slowly sliding down. I felt a slippery wetness on my penis. Her tongue swept over it, then slowly moved to my scrotum, gently touching it. Suddenly, her lips enveloped one of my testicles, gently sucking, her tongue constantly sweeping across my scrotum. This sudden attack made my penis twitch. Xiaoyu buried her head between my legs, intently servicing my testicles. Watching the woman beneath me so focused, a sense of conquest, like a man's, welled up within me.

My wife slowly moved up and enveloped my penis in her mouth, her tongue licking around the coronal sulcus, occasionally the tip of her tongue gliding over the urethral opening. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed oral sex from my wife, but it seemed she hadn't always been this skilled.

Did this thing also require sudden enlightenment? Waves of tingling pleasure interrupted my thoughts, plunging me into this desire.

My hands, which had been gently stroking her head, now gripped her hair tightly, veins bulging, and my breathing became heavy and rapid. My wife, on the contrary, increased the frequency of her sucking, rapidly sucking, her small hands constantly caressing my scrotum.

"Ah,"

my wife's small mouth tightly enveloped mine, her head buried deep between my legs, waiting motionless for my ejaculation. Seeing my apparent withdrawal, she gripped my thighs tightly, preventing me from moving.

I stared in disbelief as my wife swallowed the semen, even licking her lips afterward.

"Why did you swallow it all?"

"What? Don't you like it?"

"I like it, but..."

"That was before. I was just rewarding you for working so hard!"

I was deeply moved and wanted to embrace my wife, but she gently pushed my hands away. "Your mission isn't finished yet," she said, winking mischievously at me, teasing my half-dead penis before burying her face in it again.

My wife skillfully teased it a few times, and my penis slowly rose. Ignoring the remaining fluid, she opened her small mouth and took it in, looking at me with alluring eyes. Seeing me staring at her without any shyness, she bravely met my gaze. Seeing this different side of her, my penis filled her small mouth completely. "Mmm,"

I growled, turning her over. I aimed my penis at her delicate flower and thrust it in.

There was plenty of vaginal fluid; my wife showed no discomfort, only letting out a soft moan.

Everyone says marriage has a seven-year itch, and I always thought it was nonsense, and now I still think so.

My love with Xiaoyu was like the changing seasons—sprouting in spring and bearing fruit in autumn, everything so natural. I met her before I went to military academy; back then, she was a bookish student. When I, the school bully, suddenly appeared before her, her pale face, contorted with fear, seemed to pierce my chest like a bullet.

At that moment, I knew I would marry no one but her. So, during fights, I was nowhere to be found; I was constantly dragging my cronies around for advice, relentlessly pursuing their cobbled-together, terrible ideas.也让我得到了一个意外的收获，校长对于我浪子回头金不换大肆赞扬，拿掉了档案里的所有处分不算，评语写的是花团锦簇。

远离了打架斗殴，远离了激情四射的小太妹，开始了我的纯情初恋。是初恋，虽然早已经不是处男了，但是在筱雨身上第一次感到初恋心灵的悸动。晚上辗转难眠，白天瞌睡连天。时刻关注着她的一颦一笑，偶尔一次微微的皱了眉头，我都心焦不已。不知道自己哪里唐突了佳人。

难得拿起笔的我破天荒的写起了情书，可恨文学细胞太少咬烂了笔头也写不满半张纸。把班上的才子强掳来，威逼加利诱，不写挨打写了帮他揍欺负他的小瘪三。才子勉为其难的捉刀了一篇，华丽辞藻锦绣文章看的我牙齿都酸倒了。 I had no choice but to assign each of my underlings one essay a week, and to my surprise, their Chinese scores improved dramatically during the college entrance exam.

During my fiery pursuit, while shunning the harassment of numerous other suitors, Xiaoyu gradually lowered her guard and opened the dam of her heart. By the river, in the woods, her carefree laughter was as clear as silver bells, revealing that even this ice queen had playful antics and mischievous pranks. I was adrift in this river of love, happy yet too afraid to frolic. After what seemed like an eternity, I nervously and tremblingly grasped her small hand, a tingling, electric sensation coursing through my body, my steps unsteady. Seeing her blushing, shy face, I mustered my courage and held her hand tightly, never letting go.

From our first holding hands to our first kiss, everything was filled with excitement, clumsiness, and helplessness; everything was like a virgin's pilgrimage, proceeding step by step in the most traditional way.

Later, she also applied to a university in the same city as me, and the way I called her changed from "silly boy" in our budding romance to "husband" after marriage, though I still occasionally miss her sweet, crisp "silly boy." But she would playfully say, "I'll call you husband, because you're mine alone." How could I bear to refuse? In our marriage, we are mutually dependent. She acts like a little girl, throwing tantrums and being affectionate, and I love her adorable side. This is also why she and her mother-in-law used to have a strained relationship. My mother always said I spoiled her too much, and I would just laugh it off. My mother said that sons grow up and are no longer under their mothers' control, so I flattered her even more. It's like a happy trouble; I always manage to play both sides. I don't know why I, who am not good at handling interpersonal relationships, can mediate so well.

I only realized it in prison: it's because they love me and enjoy my clumsy performances. Now they are as close as sisters, perhaps because of the bond we built up while supporting and encouraging each other in prison.

What more could I ask for? I only hope that I won't be so impulsive in the future, and that I'll think things through more carefully so that I can enjoy this family bliss for longer.

In prison, I constantly missed them—my mother's love and my wife's gentleness. And yesterday, my wife's passionate tenderness proved it; she, too, missed me constantly. Our intimacy before, though a union of body and soul, always lacked passion; everything was done step by step. A kiss, undressing—simple prelude, and my wife's deliberately suppressed moans. If I made even the slightest request that was too much, my wife would blush and call me shameless. Although I liked my wife's ladylike behavior, when I recalled the wild figures of my past delinquent friends, I would greedily imagine what it would be like if my wife's pure face were paired with wild and lewd actions.

Despite my repeated requests and sweet talk, my wife only tentatively explored those unconventional actions. Occasionally, when she saw my dejected look, my wife would clumsily manipulate my penis with a frown, her rosy lips hesitantly swaying beside me. Seeing my distressed expression, she would quickly lick the glans with her tongue. Finally, she would reluctantly take it into her mouth, watching me grimace as her teeth scraped against it. Angrily, she would spit it out, slap my stomach, and say, "I told you I couldn't do it, I don't want it anymore." I would then have to cling to her and coax her endlessly as this arduous journey continued.

A new life begins, bringing new encounters. The harmonious mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship, though somewhat strange, is genuinely loving towards each other—what more could I ask for? My wife's passion in bed is like a fine, aged wine, intense and mellow, offering experiences I've never had before. Her fair and dignified face, her skin glistening with sweat, her love juices glistening, her moans of pleasure—she's like a fallen angel, her face flushed from exertion, her beautiful eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling slightly. A mixture of purity and lust, like the union of angel and devil, leaves me wanting more. Like a boy experiencing sex for the first time, I can never get enough. That night, I made love four times, wanting to release all the passion in my heart at once. Looking at my wife's tired body, though she still stubbornly wanted to satisfy my long-absent desires, I knew at that moment that her love for me was intense, that she was open to me and willing to give everything. How could I bear to be selfish? In my semi-forced action, we embraced tightly and fell asleep sweetly.

******************

In the following days, I didn't rush to find work, intending to rest for a while and plan my future. My previous job was terminated due to my imprisonment, but I wasn't worried about money for the time being. I had a secret stash of money, a special allowance from my years of military service, which I checked and found still had over 100,000 yuan left. This put my mind at ease. A grown man can't really ask a woman for money, even though we're family; perhaps it's my patriarchal pride acting up.

My wife is a white-collar worker at a large company, working a regular nine-to-five job. I noticed that she always wore dark-colored office lady outfits when she went out, making her look somewhat mature. Only when she came home did she dress fashionably and revealingly, like a little enchantress. My wife hadn't changed much; in front of outsiders, she was still that aloof, icy beauty. A sense of superiority welled up within me. This perfectly elegant and dignified woman—only I could see her wanton side. I was truly fortunate.

My mother owned a clothing store in the commercial district; I would occasionally visit, and the manager handled everything. When my father was in high school, he divorced me because of his mistress. An older man experiencing a second spring in love is surprisingly impulsive; he declared he would give up everything to get a divorce and be with his delicate mistress. My mother, who initially didn't want a divorce, also lost heart. She never imagined that twenty years of relationship could crumble before youthful passion. So, without any arguments, they went to the civil affairs bureau for a negotiated divorce. They did divide their property, though I don't know the specifics, but it was a relatively amicable separation.

Devastated by this, my mother succumbed to grief for a while. For about a month, she stayed home every day drinking with cooked food, becoming a complete alcoholic. At the time, I was busy out partying, and seeing the house empty and deserted, I came home even later. During her most difficult period, I didn't think to care for or comfort her, and I've always felt guilty about it.

Thankfully, after a month, my mother recovered. She stopped drinking and started frequently playing cards with the women in the neighborhood. My mother, who never played cards before, seemed to have completely forgotten about my father after becoming addicted to mahjong.

I initially thought it was just a passing fancy and that my father would eventually realize how good his wife was. But things don't always go according to plan. My father, like an old tree blossoming with joy, had a daughter, and there was no going back. Women can't live without men, just as men can't live without women. Having tasted love for the first time, I understood that my mother still needed someone to care for her. But I could never bring it up with her. Even though I understood this, the thought of a stranger coming to our house made my heart clench with pain; how could I possibly bring it up myself?

Thankfully, my mother didn't seem to have any such thoughts. Perhaps she had lost faith in men. She just played mahjong occasionally, then opened a clothing store, but her main focus remained on mahjong. She stopped paying attention to her appearance. A once mature and beautiful woman, she would just casually tie her hair up and throw on clothes without a second thought, let alone put on makeup.

As a result, my mother transformed from an elegant and intellectual beauty into an ordinary middle-aged woman.

My mother's mahjong skills have made her a renowned mahjong master in the neighborhood. Now, she's paid more attention to her appearance again, wearing appropriate light makeup and trendy, form-fitting clothes. In her forties, she looks ten years younger. The few crow's feet around her eyes have faded, and her face has a healthy rosy glow. Even when she was younger, her clothing was always very conservative; she would never wear anything even slightly revealing. But since I came back, in just a few days, a dazzling array of outfits has appeared before me. My mother-in-law and I, mother and daughter-in-law, displayed a dazzling array of stockings—black, purple, white, fishnet, sheer, patterned—floral skirts, denim shorts, and low-cut tank tops. They looked like two sisters vying for attention. Women dress to please themselves; my wife has me, but what about my mother? I know there's a reason for all this.

I'm relieved that my mother has a positive attitude and has regained her vibrant energy. But a nameless heartache lingers in my heart. I know it's unsolvable; how can I explain it, or even begin to explain it?

I've been back for a few days now, but my mother hasn't mentioned it. My wife and mother probably know about their close relationship, but she hasn't told me either. Am I being paranoid? It seems I should ask her directly. It's not interference, but women in love are often blinded, and I don't want her to get hurt. I'd protect them both with my life, no matter who they are. Today is the fourth day since I came back. When I woke up, it was already 9:30. The weather outside was beautiful, with sunlight streaming through the window and filling the entire bedroom. People really can't be idle; once they are, they become lazy. I've slept in for several days in a row. Well, thankfully, I got up an hour early today. I couldn't help it; we've been chatting late every night for the past few days, and my friends are very concerned about where I've been for the past year. To those who don't know the truth, I told them I was doing construction work in the Northwest. This drew a lot of criticism, with people saying, "Is the West some kind of ancient history?" Hearing these comments warmed my heart.

My wife has already gone to work, and there's no other sound at home. My mother has probably gone out too. After washing up, I turned on the computer and headed to the kitchen to find something to eat. As I passed my mother's room, I heard voices coming from inside, sounding like she was on the phone. The door was closed, and I stopped, inexplicably wanting to eavesdrop. It wasn't that I had any lewd thoughts; in my memory, my mother never hid her phone calls from me, let alone behind closed doors. The voices weren't loud, seemingly deliberately suppressed, but I could still make out the gist of it by pressing my ear against the door.

"Didn't I tell you? My son's back." There was a hint of coquettishness in her tone, though I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination.

"Yes, I want to keep him company; he must be suffering in there."

"Ugh, you're so mean, talking nonsense!" Then came a burst of giggling; I don't know what on the phone made her laugh so hard.

It must be that man on the phone; I guess I wasn't wrong. Judging from their tone, their relationship seemed quite close, but why didn't she tell me? Was she afraid I'd object?

"I've been thinking about it, um..."

"I think I'll come see you this afternoon."

"Okay then."

...

I didn't listen any further, seeing how obedient my mother was to that man. I was certain of my suspicions, and felt a mix of emotions. Although it felt awkward, elders also have the right to pursue their own happiness.

I shouldn't oppose this; that would be too selfish. I wondered what the man was like, but I imagined him to be a refined middle-aged man, most likely an intellectual, handsome, and somewhat shrewd scholar who had won my mother's heart. That would be good; he would have a certain taste in life and be able to treat people peacefully. My mother's late-life romance was a relatively ideal situation; otherwise, I wouldn't have agreed to repeat the tragedy of her previous marriage. I would find an opportunity to bring it up with my mother without being abrupt, so that she could be open about it and know that her son supported her pursuit of happiness.

I cooked a bowl of noodles in the kitchen, and just as I was finishing it, my mother's door opened. I saw her wearing a brown knitted jacquard vest dress, the large stitches revealing a light-colored strapless bra underneath.

Her neckline was very low, revealing the fullness of her upper breasts, adorned with a delicate platinum necklace. She wore a short, floral pleated skirt that reached her hips, through which lace panties were faintly visible. Black stockings extended to her thighs, and she wore extremely high, thin heels.

Seeing that I was up, my mother looked somewhat surprised. I didn't speak; I was speechless, stunned by my mother's attire. Although I had become somewhat immune to such fashion choices these past few days, this provocative and striking outfit, making her appear like a vibrant young woman, left me speechless. My mother didn't seem inclined to speak either, and we stared at each other for about half a minute.

"Why are you up so early today?"

"Well, I've been getting plenty of sleep these past few days."

"That's true, you should go out and have some fun, don't just stay cooped up at home."

"Mom, you look so beautiful today. "

"I'm an old woman, why are you still happy with your mother?"

"Of course I am, people will definitely think you're only thirty."

"Stop talking nonsense. Did you hear me? Don't always stay cooped up at home. Go out and clear your head."

"I just want to stay home with you. I've missed you so much."

"Oh, silly child, you're not a grown-up anymore. I'm going out for a bit. Take care of lunch yourself. I'll cook you something nice for dinner."

"Mom..."

"Hmm, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Okay, I'm leaving then."

...

Bang, the door closed. I slumped into a chair, all my strength gone. I had wanted to tell my mother, "Go and bravely find your own happiness. Your son supports you." But seeing her attire and excited expression, I couldn't bring myself to say it. A sudden unease settled in my heart. I tried to think, but couldn't come up with anything.

I don't know how long I pondered, but the ringing of my phone startled me awake. It was my childhood friend, Wang Fei, calling. He was my chief strategist in middle school; he devised many of our plans. That guy was full of mischief; he could come up with a brilliant, insidious idea with just a glance. Unfortunately, this kid is a coward; he's terrified of blood and faints at the sight of it. Although he's a bit of a wimp in this respect, his strengths outweigh his weaknesses, making him a key member of the group.

"Brother Liang, I just found out you're out. I wanted to visit you yesterday, but I was afraid your mother would be upset."

"It's okay, I just got out too. I'll come over whenever I'm free." My mother has always had a problem with my high school friends, considering them all unreliable hooligans. She doesn't seem to realize that her son is the real hooligans.

"Okay, sure, I'll sort out what I'm doing and come find you. Brother Liang, we've missed you terribly. I'm going to find some girls and give you a good time." "

Get lost, I haven't messed around in ages. Haha," I added, "I miss my brothers too."

There was no rest after hanging up. My friends all knew I was back and called to say hello. Especially Tiger, who called, saying he wanted to follow me now that I was back. Tiger was my closest buddy back then, and he'd taken a knife for me more than once. But everything was still in the works, and I couldn't readily agree to his request. We weren't young and naive anymore; everyone had families to support. When I mentioned family, Tiger, this big, strong man, started sobbing on the phone. He'd had a rough few years. While I was in the army at military academy, Tiger's family went south to do business. At first, things were good; they made a lot of money, and had a house, a car, a wife, and children. But then disaster struck. Tiger's father was swindled by Taiwanese people, the company went bankrupt, and his father fell ill, spending all the family's last savings. After his father died, Tiger, lacking his father's abilities, became increasingly destitute. For his wife and children, he gritted his teeth and became a henchman for a boss, essentially returning to his old ways.

That was bad enough, except for the danger—could it be more dangerous than mining? Everything was going smoothly until he noticed something was wrong with his wife. He hired a private investigator, and sure enough, she was having an affair. When I heard that, I thought, "Damn it, it's all this same old mess." I asked him how he handled it and if he needed his brother's help. He sobbed and said, "Never mind, for the sake of the child." I was furious and told him, "Tiger, why are you such a coward now?" He hesitated, so I interrupted him and told him to come over and explain things clearly so we could make a decision.

After that call, my mood didn't improve at all. First, my wife was harassed, and I got into jail for fighting back. Tiger's actions were even worse; he was cheated on and didn't dare to retaliate. Is he even a man? Even if he has some unspeakable difficulties, does he just let these scumbags and adulterers go free? I was so angry at lunch that I didn't eat anything, just haphazardly stuffing some food around the house. The private investigator Tiger mentioned kept swirling in my mind. In this society where morals are declining, there must be a huge market for them. When I was young, I also messed around with women, didn't I? Men often can't control their lower bodies. I only stopped messing around after finding my true love. This project is very promising and suits my profession perfectly; reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance against ordinary people are a piece of cake.

I stayed in my room, planning this project, making a list of all the equipment I needed. By the time I finished, it was already evening. I packed up my things and was about to go to the gym to exercise when I heard the door open. My mother rushed to her bathroom. The sound of the shower was deafening, and a wave of disgust washed over me. She must have been with that man. I didn't want to think about it; maybe it was the hot weather. After hearing about Tiger's experience today, I felt inexplicably disgusted by these clandestine relationships. Why couldn't they establish a relationship before doing these things? Why couldn't they let their children know? Was there something shameful they wanted to hide?

I took a deep breath and leaned back on the bed to relax. I slapped myself hard. How could I be thinking so maliciously? The other person was my own mother. It was a sliver of suspicion and anger that clouded my judgment. I needed to calm down.

After a long while, I heard the door to my mother's room open, followed by her calling my name. For some inexplicable reason, I didn't answer, lying in bed pretending to sleep. I opened my eyes slightly and saw my mother, wrapped in a

bath towel, standing in my doorway. Seeing me asleep, she let out a deep sigh of relief, seemingly relaxing as she walked towards her own bedroom. I didn't want to think about the reason for her deep sigh and continued to lean against the bed. A moment later, I heard the sound of a phone call coming from my mother's room. The door wasn't closed, and the sound wasn't quiet. I strained my ears to hear what was going on.

"You're so annoying, insisting on doing it in that place today. Several people came in, I was terrified."

"Isn't it better in the room, husband, brother, dad?"

"Mmm, so much, it's all leaking out."

"Hehe, you're so disgusting..."

Hearing my mother's voice, like a little girl's coquettishness, struck me like a thunderbolt, a sound from hell. Every pore on my body seemed to explode. Those few words from my mother swirled in my mind, and I couldn't hear anything else.

"How could this be, how could this be," I murmured.

No matter the circumstances, I couldn't imagine my sacred mother uttering such vulgar words, and so smoothly, with a coquettish tone more like lovers' banter. Yes, they were lovers. But I couldn't bear the thought of that pristine image crumbling in my mind.

The sounds from that room continued, occasionally punctuated by faint moans. I couldn't distinguish them anymore; my blood rushed to my head, accompanied by a suffocating feeling of oxygen deprivation.

"This is really disgusting."

"No, I can't say it."

"I felt guilty saying it now that he wasn't home."

"He's asleep, what if he wakes up?"

"It's so exciting, but my husband doesn't want it anymore."

"Mmm, I'm wet."

"Are you really going to moan?" My mother seemed hesitant.

"Good son, son, come and fuck your mother."

"I only want you, my good son."

"Mmm, I'm already touching down there."

"Mmm, it's never enough, just thinking about you makes me wet."

"It's in... ah..."

I couldn't listen anymore, because I was shamefully hard. In the past, having received traditional ethical education, I was essentially a traditional person. A loving mother and son, brotherly love, and a respectful husband and wife were the norm for a normal life. In the past, I would scoff at news reports of incest abroad, thinking it was no different from that of beasts.

But in just a few words, the object of my affection was shattered, and my cherished spiritual world collapsed. Destruction is always easier than construction. The image of the child who cared for me, scolded me when I made mistakes, and cried when I was hurt, blurred in an instant. I felt that the once close, flesh-and-blood connection had become as distant as an insurmountable chasm. It wasn't just because of her shameless, lewd words; I blamed myself for being so vulnerable. I should have only felt anger and shame, but now I also had desire—anger, desire, and self-reproach all mixed together. Heh, I'm not exactly a strong, unyielding person either. I seem to have succumbed to this indirect stimulation of desire. What words could I possibly say to anyone else?

It was already dark, and the room was quiet and still. I sat up somewhat blankly, suddenly feeling a damp, cool sensation between my legs. I sighed dejectedly. Just as I was wondering what to do, the door opened, followed by my wife's frantic shout,

"It's so hot! It's so hot! Go take a shower!"

Seeing me sitting on the bed, my panting wife waved me off and went into the bathroom. A bang followed by the sound of the safety lock, and the rustling of running water could be heard from inside. Still lost in thought, I ignored it all.

The atmosphere at dinner was slightly somber; perhaps it was just my imagination. Several times I secretly peeked at my mother, but I couldn't discern anything from her face. At the dinner table, the topic of work came up again. "Xiao Liang, what kind of work are you planning to do next?"

"Yeah, what do you want to do,

honey?" my wife asked. "I haven't decided yet," I said nonchalantly.

"How about we go on a trip to relax?" my mother suggested.

"Who are you going with?" I asked deliberately.

"I can't get away. I have a case at work, and I have to work overtime lately."

I looked at my mother. "What's the point of going with an old woman like me? I'm thinking of expanding the shop."

What did she mean? Did she think I was in the way at home? A bad feeling crept into my heart. But I quickly dismissed the thought. My mother probably had a lover but wasn't ready to tell me yet. How could it be between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law… I couldn't help but curse myself for being shameless, for my mind becoming so dark.

After dinner, the two of them went to the living room to watch a soap opera, huddled together, whispering and playfully bickering. I wasn't really interested in getting involved. I stayed in my room, browsing the internet, my mind racing, determined to get to the bottom of things tomorrow.

My wife came home to sleep. I turned around and saw her hair was a little messy, and her clothes were pulled down a bit. These two, mother and daughter-in-law, really know how to have their fun. Her fair breasts were barely concealed, and a strand of hair clung to her lips. My desire surged,

and I wanted to release all the pent-up excitement from the day. I picked her up by the waist and kicked the door shut. I pushed her onto the bed and roughly pulled up her tank top. My hands kneaded her fair breasts, my teeth gently biting her bright red nipples.

My wife, startled, recovered, her arms opening comfortably, and she let out soft moans. My hands roamed over her beautiful body, kissing her neck, earrings, and cheeks. When my mouth returned to her firm breasts, I suddenly noticed a large bruise.

"Why are your breasts bruised? What happened?"

"Ah...why are you being so rude? I bumped into something by accident, it hurts so much, honey."

"Oh."

"Stop talking, come on." She then spread her legs and gently hooked her foot around my waist.

Hearing my wife's call, I didn't care about foreplay anymore. My penis slid into her hole, going all the way in without any resistance. Her vagina was wet, and with each thrust, it brought out a stream of vaginal fluid that splashed onto the sheets.

I was a little surprised by my wife's wetness and blurted out, "You slut, why are you so wet today?" As soon as I said it, I regretted it. My wife didn't like me using vulgar language.

"You slut missed your husband, fuck me now."

My usually dignified and elegant wife had shed her mask and was particularly wild in bed. In a fit of rage, I continued to verbally abuse my wife.

"You little bitch, tell me why there's so much juice in your cunt. Did you wipe it yourself in the bathroom?"

"No, you just washed yourself."

I hoisted Xiaoyu's long legs onto my shoulders and thrust into her again and again, each time penetrating deeply to the bottom. My wife's brows furrowed and opened with my movements, a mixture of pain and pleasure on her face.

"Husband, you're fucking me the hardest, you're going to fuck me right to my heart!" Xiaoyu shouted.

"You slut, you still want to be fucked?"

"No, without your permission, husband, this little bitch wouldn't dare."

"Husband, lift up a little, I want to see your cock going in and out of my cunt."

I lifted myself up a bit as she said, and Xiaoyu stared fascinated at our point of contact, gently caressing the point of contact, then inserting her slender middle finger into her cunt. Her thumb rubbed her clitoris. Because of Xiaoyu's finger, her cunt tightened even more, tightly gripping my penis, like a thousand tiny mouths sucking.

...

The next day, I bought some necessary tools and returned home. There was some noise in my mother's bedroom, so I slowly and quietly approached. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see right into the room. My mother was lying on the bed, talking on the phone. Her embroidered short-sleeved top was unbuttoned, messily covering half of her breast. Her other, white and tender breast was exposed to the air, its dark red nipple erect. Her two shapely thighs were encased in black pantyhose, and she wore no other clothing, which was scattered haphazardly on the bed and floor.

My mother's slender hands were caressing her crotch, and I looked closer and saw that the crotch of her pantyhose had been ripped open with force, revealing her alluring vulva. Her crotch, like my wife's, was completely bare. This was my mother's vagina, and I couldn't help but describe it in vulgar terms. At that moment, all my morals were swept away, and I stared intently at the place where my mother had given me life and raised me. The phone was right next to my mother's ear, and she was tilting her head to hold it down. One hand roamed over her upper body, sometimes touching her breasts, sometimes her lower abdomen, sometimes gently biting her lips.

The other hand never left her vulva; while she talked to her lover on the phone, she was also touching her own genitals.

I couldn't resist slipping my hand into my pants, grasping my penis and slowly stroking it, my eyes continuing to follow the erotic scene in the room. I knew I shouldn't be standing here, much less watching my mother's beautiful body. Although my once dignified and elegant mother lay sprawled, her slender fingers were now thrusting and rubbing between her bare pubic hair. Under her lover's guidance, she was uttering increasingly lewd words. Those outrageous words were things I had never even considered, things I never dared to imagine coming from my mother's mouth. But at that moment, these words, mingled with moans, made me rooted to the spot, unwilling to leave.

"Ah, I want my son's big cock..." The mother's pert buttocks writhed on the bed, her hips lifting up as if welcoming the large cock.

"Ah, yes, so good."

"You come too, come with me."

"Come and fuck me with your son... oh... ah..." The mother reached her climax, no longer suppressing her moans, her skin flushed red. My hand, inside my underwear, quickened its pace. I breathed heavily through my nose, my heart pounding uncontrollably, waves of tingling sensations spreading through my nerves. My brain felt dizzy from insufficient blood supply, and my body leaned weakly against the wall. Slowly, I recovered from this powerful and prolonged pleasure. Seeing the mother lying lazily on the bed after her climax, seemingly half-asleep, I wondered if she had heard the noise outside the door. I quietly slipped away.

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