My relationship with my teacher mother ~To be continued

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

I live in a county in a central province of China. Although it's not a large place, it's quite prosperous. For years, our county has consistently ranked among the top five of the province's dozen or so counties.
My mother, Su Hui, is 45 years old this year. She was 40 back then and has dedicated 28 years to education. She's currently the executive vice principal of a middle school.
To most men, my mother isn't the kind of beauty that immediately catches their eye, but she's delicate and pleasing to the eye, the kind that grows more attractive with age. And as far as I know, many men see her as an intellectual and graceful woman.
My mother is of average height, 161cm, and weighs about 110 jin (approximately 55 kg). Her breasts aren't particularly large, measuring 81.2cm, slightly sagging, but they feel great to the touch
and don't sag excessively, so her cleavage is still quite noticeable. Her waist is 56cm, still quite slender; her hips are a nice 88.6cm, perfectly shaped, firm, and smooth. I feel the most beautiful part of my mother's body is her skin—fair but not dull, incredibly smooth and delicate. Although she's 45, it's still very moisturized and elastic.
My name is Jia Yunfan, I'm 25 years old this year, and I was 20 years old back then. Although my mother is a teacher and was very strict with me from a young age, and I was very obedient, perhaps I'm not very smart, my grades were never particularly good. After graduating from junior high school, I had enough of the stressful school life. After a strong confrontation with my mother, I didn't go to high school, but instead went to a vocational school.
I graduated from vocational school at 18, and fortunately, with the help of my uncle, who was then the deputy secretary of the county party committee, I got a good job in a public institution. Of course, my family also includes my father. He's a good man, at least in terms of his career. I still consider him my idol and role model.
My father has a strong passion for his work. He started in the project office in our county. Just from the name, you can tell he was in charge of finding projects and building connections. He was always traveling all over the country. Later, he was promoted to director of the county's office in the province, and two years ago he was even sent to Beijing to be the director of the Beijing office. It was because he was always busy working away from home that my mother and I were able to have our love.
My mother is a very gentle woman. She has never been the unrestrained type described in novels. Even now, after five years of relationship, she is still passionate when we are naked together. Even though our sex life is harmonious, she is not overly promiscuous, nor does she make any lewd noises like those mothers in novels. Because no matter what, she is still a mother.
Of course, as our relationship has deepened, my encouragement has made her more willing to try new things that I like, such as wearing stockings, oral sex, in the car, outdoors, and browsing forums together.
Based on our experience, once a woman has been with you once and you have entered her heart, she will be very accommodating and willing to make sacrifices for you. My mother is no exception.
My love with my mother is different from what is depicted in many novels. It's not that idealized or romantic. I feel that my love with my mother is very down-to-earth. Apart from some initial restraint and concerns, it's like a normal couple slowly getting to know each other and developing their relationship.
Now, whenever Dad isn't home, Mom and I live like a married couple. There's cozy cuddling, sweet banter, arguments over trivial matters, sulking and cold wars, and of course, passionate lovemaking.
If you also want to love your mother, please don't rush to seek your own satisfaction and force her to do things she's not comfortable with. What you need to do is take it slow, gently guide her, rather than force her. Otherwise, I think it would be harmful to your mother.
To be honest, before my mother and I had our first intimate encounter due to an accident, I never even considered incest, and my mother certainly wouldn't have such thoughts. Although I kept many diary entries at that time, they were just everyday reflections. I
only started writing about our story eight days after our first intimate encounter, after I had slowly recovered from my initial shock. So, how exactly did my mother and I begin? Because I didn't record it, and I want to preserve the original flavor of the diary as much as possible, I don't want to rewrite it. Let me just give you a brief introduction.
I remember it clearly: July 5th, 2004. My mother finally got the position she deserved—Executive Vice Principal. She was overjoyed and excited, completely unaware that her son was depressed because I had broken up with my boyfriend the day before. That night, she returned from celebrating with her colleagues, already somewhat drunk, while I was drinking alone in silence. Perhaps she was truly drunk; seeing me drinking, she didn't nag me but instead continued excitedly recounting how her colleagues had congratulated her. Before I knew it, she was getting more and more excited, and she started drinking too. We began drinking together, until everything became completely chaotic, to the point that neither of us can recall exactly how we ended up in bed.
The next day, I woke up to a scream. When I opened my eyes, I only saw my mother, naked, clutching a towel, running out of the bedroom. When I realized what had happened, my mind went blank. I
sat on the bed for a long time, stunned, before finally getting up, finding clothes in the living room, dressing, and hurriedly fleeing the house. Later I learned that my mother had spent the entire day hiding in the bathroom with a blanket, crying all day.
What followed was a 74-day period of silent coexistence. Even though we were at home, we wouldn't look at each other, let alone speak. We consciously avoided each other as much as possible, and the atmosphere at home was only oppressive and awkward.
That was my first time with my mother, and I still regret it deeply because I can't remember anything about what our first time was like. As for how my mother and I got together, the process is complicated, and I don't want to deliberately write about it. I'll just publish my diary entries instead. However, due to the reasons mentioned above, the entries won't be coherent, so please forgive me!
Starting tomorrow, I will gradually publish the diary entries that are available for public release (updating every two to three days). The entries vary in length, some are two or three pages long, some are only a few sentences long. If it's long, I will only publish one entry at a time; if it's short, I will publish two or three entries.
Monday, September 19, 2005, 11:33 PM, Cloudy.
Another thing happened today. Oh my god, what should I do? How could this happen? No wonder Mom took three days off to rest at home a few days ago. No wonder her complexion has been worse these past few days; she hasn't been washing clothes much, and she hasn't been cooking much. No wonder I saw her crying in her bedroom the night before last. I
continued to have insomnia last night, and my head hurt terribly this morning, so I called work to ask for sick leave. That bastard Director Zhang said something sarcastic again, saying I've been taking so many days off lately. How could that bastard know my suffering? What an old bastard. I didn't
get up until after 10 a.m. Mom had already gone to work. I took out the last piece of bread from the refrigerator and ate it, then casually threw the plastic bag into the trash can. My eyes subconsciously glanced at the trash can, and in that one glance, I saw something. I recognized it because I had bought it for my ex-girlfriend—a box for abortion pills.
My heart leaped into my throat. My trembling hand reached out and picked it up, wanting to confirm. Yes, it was the mifepristone tablet. The blister pack was empty; besides the instruction manual, there was a crumpled piece of paper and the hospital's diagnosis: two months pregnant.
In extreme fear, my mind raced: Dad hadn't come home for four months; it couldn't be Dad's, it couldn't be another man's, I knew Mom's character.
Two months... that day was July. Oh God, it was... it was me. I felt my lips trembling, and I collapsed weakly to the floor. I was terrified, I didn't know what to do. It was as if fate was cruelly mocking me. Just that one time, after drinking, and somehow it happened, and Mom was pregnant.
I don't know how long I sat on the floor before numbly returning to my room, lying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind sometimes empty, sometimes jumbled, not knowing what I was thinking.
Mom still hadn't come home by noon. I knew she was avoiding me, not wanting to face me. In the afternoon, I slowly emerged from my panic and began to think about what to do. Two voices were constantly battling in my head: one was to continue pretending not to hear, acting as if I knew nothing, escaping everything that had happened; the other was to be brave, face my mistakes, and take good care of Mom.
When Mom came home in the afternoon, I secretly looked at her. Her face was still very pale. Although I hadn't experienced it myself, I knew that here we call abortion a "small confinement," which is very harmful to a woman's body. Generally, after an abortion, a woman needs to rest in bed for two weeks, avoid cold water, avoid strenuous activity, and eat plenty of nutritious food.
Looking at Mom's tired appearance and pale face, I felt so guilty and heartbroken. But it's already past 11 pm, and I still can't make up my mind. Am I being too weak? Do I have no opinions at all?
What should I do?
Tuesday, September 20, 2005, 10:54 PM, Cloudy.
Compared to yesterday, my mind is much clearer, and my heart no longer feels like it's weighed down by a stone. Because today I finally took a step, finally bravely faced myself, faced my mother, and faced that thing that shouldn't have happened. I
still had insomnia last night, two questions kept running through my mind: continue to run away, or face it bravely. I didn't look at the clock, and didn't even know what time it was. I made up my mind, and then unconsciously fell asleep.
This morning I didn't call work, and still didn't go to work. After my mother went to work, I turned on the computer and searched online for precautions and nutritional supplements after an abortion, starting to plan how to take good care of my mother.
I cleaned the house first. It seems my mother is really weak, because she used to be a very tidy person, but the house hadn't been cleaned much in the past two weeks.
After cleaning the rooms, I went out to buy what I planned: a clay pot, eggs, free-range chicken, goji berries, red dates, brown sugar, a hot water bottle, etc. When I got home at noon, I quickly ate a packet of instant noodles and started making chicken soup according to the nutritional recipes I found online.
I put a whole chicken, goji berries, red dates, star anise, Sichuan peppercorns, ginger, scallions, and cooking wine into a clay pot, brought it to a boil over high heat, then simmered it over low heat for a full four hours. The aroma was irresistible, and the bright red goji berries and dates floating on the glistening chicken broth warmed my heart.
That afternoon, I was still uneasy. I didn't know if my mother could forgive me, or accept my care. What if she didn't accept me? But it had already happened, so I had to grit my teeth and go for it.
My mother didn't get home until almost 7 pm. As usual, she went straight to her bedroom and locked herself in. I heated up some chicken soup, ladled out a bowl, and, trying to calm my anxiety, knocked on my mother's door, but she didn't respond. I hesitated, unsure whether to go in or leave. After a moment, I tried the lock; it wasn't locked. I gritted my teeth, opened the door, and went in. My mother, lying in bed, probably didn't expect me to open the door and come in without a response. She glanced at me, then turned over and lay down with her back to me.
I took a deep breath, carried the chicken soup to my mother's bedside, and said, "Mom, I know you're angry and sad, but you're not feeling well right now, so please take care of yourself. I made you some chicken soup, would you like some?"
Today, the school leadership team came to visit. During the visit, Principal Liu asked my mother what was wrong. My mother hesitated for a moment and couldn't answer. I quickly said that my mother had acute gastroenteritis, and the doctor said that my mother was weak and needed to rest more.
Fortunately, they didn't ask any more questions, just said some polite things.
What a close call! It's all my fault for not thinking of this beforehand; I still lack social experience. I must be more careful in the future. However, after I answered, I saw my mother glance at me, her eyes less cold, as if she were approving. I guess I've done a good deed. I
did laundry again today. After doing laundry twice in the past few days, I realized that washing clothes isn't just a simple matter of throwing them in the washing machine; it's quite tiring. My wrists are red from rubbing them, and the detergent water stings. I really didn't know how to be considerate of my mother before; I need to change that.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005, 11:06 PM, Sunny.
Mom's complexion is getting better and better. She even got up to clean the room this morning, but she still doesn't talk to me much. At lunchtime, I didn't bring the food into her bedroom, but put it on the dining table. When I called her to eat, she said she wasn't hungry. She only went to the dining room to eat after I finished eating myself. It seems Mom still can't face me. I don't know when this will end. So distressed… Saturday, October 1, 2005, 11:11 PM, Cloudy.
Today is a holiday, but I didn't sleep in like before. I got up very early to clean the room and make breakfast. When I went to get Mom's clothes to wash, she didn't stop me like the previous times, but I still couldn't find her underwear. I think Mom is still very sensitive about this. Oh well, if I really had to wash them, I would feel really embarrassed too.
Mom didn't stay in the bedroom this morning. She watched TV in the living room all morning. When I poured her hot water, this time she took it with her hands and said thank you, unlike before when I would put it on the table before she took it.
My dad called around noon, and I answered first. He said he was going to accompany a minister's family on a trip to Xinjiang and wouldn't be coming over for the holiday. He asked if everything was alright at home, but I didn't know how to answer. I just vaguely said everything was fine. Then my dad put my mom on the phone, and my heart was in my throat. Thankfully, my mom didn't say anything, but I could tell her tone was a little unsteady.
When she hung up and turned around, she saw my nervous expression, didn't say anything, just sighed and left. My palms were sweating. It seems my mom has decided to keep that a secret. Should I be happy or sad?
October 5th, Wednesday, 21:23, Sunny.
The weather was nice today. In the afternoon, I saw my mom change her clothes and go out. I asked her where she was going, and she said she was going out for some fresh air. I wanted to go with her, but she said she wanted to walk alone and that nothing would happen. But I still followed her out the door. She walked ahead, and I followed her about three or four meters behind. She didn't say anything more.
I ran into an acquaintance on the street, and I saw my mother's long-lost smile, though I think it was fake. They exchanged a few simple pleasantries, and then my mother told me to walk together, saying that others might think something was wrong.
We walked in silence, and each time we crossed the street, I quickened my pace and waved to block the cars. My mother saw this, but didn't say anything. At the pharmacy, I saw that my mother had bought several bottles of blood-tonifying and qi-boosting medicine. Sigh, I was so careless; I only thought of giving her nutrition but didn't think of buying some tonics. How stupid! I must be more careful in the future, take better care of my mother, and make up for my mistake.
Friday, October 7, 2005, 9:50 PM, Sunny.
I went out with my mother again this afternoon. This time I didn't keep my distance from her, and she didn't say anything. I still blocked the cars for her when crossing the street and reminded her to be careful when going up the stairs.
Passing by a farmers market, I saw my mother ask the price of fish at a stall. She's always loved fish, and I figured she wanted some. I said, "Mom, you can't eat fish right now." She paused, blushed, glanced at me, and walked away.
Later, she went to the park and sat on a small lawn on a small hill. I sat down next to her, about a meter away. She sat there for a long time, gazing at the ground, lost in thought. Then the wind picked up, and I reminded her it was windy and we should go home. But she ignored me and sat for another half hour. Suddenly, she said, "Let's go home." This was the first time in a long time that she'd spoken to me. I was thrilled for a while. She seemed to sense my excitement; her gaze softened, but she didn't say anything.
We got home at 6 pm. I started making dinner: millet porridge, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and my mother's favorite vegetable and tofu dish. I also heated up the braised pork ribs I'd bought at noon that I hadn't eaten.
This time, when I called her to eat, she finally ate with me. I was so happy!
During dinner, Mom suddenly said, "Don't pick at the scabies on your face, it'll leave scars." Hearing her words warmed my heart, and my eyes welled up with tears.
Seeing my expression, Mom said, "Alright, let's eat. It's all in the past, don't think about it." Although Mom's face remained expressionless, I was so touched and happy.
After dinner, Mom didn't go back to her bedroom immediately but sat in the living room watching TV. After I washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen and dining room, Mom called me back to my bedroom. I sat down opposite her, and she said, "Let's talk." I felt nervous again and sat there awkwardly.
Mom said, "I've thought about it for a long time. It's not fair to say who was at fault; if we're talking about fault, we were all wrong. There's no point in saying anything now, no point in dwelling on it. Since it's already happened, let it go. We're still family, after all. We can't let that weigh on us forever. From now on, no one should mention it again, especially not to anyone else. Just treat it as a nightmare. Don't feel too guilty. Your holiday ends tomorrow. Go back to work. You've taken too much leave lately; don't cause any trouble at work. I'm fine now, don't worry. But from now on, you're not allowed to drink anymore." Hearing Mom's words, I felt much more at ease and said, "Mom, thank you for forgiving me. I promise I won't tell anyone, and I won't drink anymore. I'll go back to work. But let me take care of you. It hasn't even been a month yet, and you're still weak. I have to take some responsibility for what I did." I wanted to continue.
When Mom heard me say I'd take some responsibility, her face flushed, and she snapped, "What responsibility? Is it something you should be responsible for? Can you even afford to take it?"
I immediately realized I'd said the wrong thing and hurriedly tried to explain, but my nervousness made me even more incoherent. I stammered, "No... I didn't mean that... I... I just wanted to... wanted to help you with some housework." Mom looked at my stammering and actually laughed, but then quickly returned to normal. I was surprised to see Mom laugh, and my nervousness instantly eased. I continued, "Now I realize how hard you've worked before. Dad's not home, and you do housework every day, and I haven't helped at all. I just want to help you with some of the work from now on, so you don't have to work so hard anymore."
Mom looked at me for a while and said, "I have no problem with you wanting to do housework. You're all grown up now, it's time to get some experience. Just don't think about it too much anymore. I've already thought it through. Go on, go to sleep early, you have to go to work tomorrow." I nodded, got up, and went back to my bedroom. Mom went into the bathroom; judging from the sounds, she was probably taking a shower. Has Mom really come to terms with it? Can we really go back to how things were before? Everything is still uncertain!
Saturday, October 8, 2005, 9:50 PM, Sunny.
Although it's Saturday, I still have to work because we had a 7-day National Day holiday, and we need to make up for it this Saturday and Sunday. Mom went to work this morning despite my advice. Although she's feeling much better, and her complexion is less pale and has more color, I'm still quite worried.
That disgusting Director Zhang called me in and gave me a dressing down as soon as I got to work. He said I take leave for no reason and that from now on, I have to personally submit the leave slip to him for approval. That old bastard, he's always had a problem with me and doesn't give my uncle and dad any face. It makes me so angry!
My buddy called this afternoon and asked me to go out for a get-together tonight, but I declined and went home early. I stewed the chicken I bought yesterday. Even though I'm at work now, I still want to make sure my mom has a bowl of chicken soup or bone broth every night. In my opinion, nothing is more important than helping my mom recover as quickly as possible.
When my mom drank the soup tonight, she actually praised me, saying she didn't expect me to be able to cook, although the taste wasn't very good.
Hehe, I was quite happy to hear that. I hope everything will get better.
Monday, October 17, 2005, 10:36 PM, Sunny.
Dad came back today, saying he was coming back to get a feasibility study for a project to submit to the State Planning Commission. He only had dinner at home before rushing to the provincial capital airport. Dad always seems particularly nervous when he comes back.
Dad's return really made me nervous for a while. Although Mom said she wouldn't mention that incident to anyone, I was still worried Dad would find out something. Fortunately, Dad came and went in a hurry, and I tried my best to remain calm. Mom seemed a little nervous at first, but everything was fine. She was very calm, just like usual when Dad came home: cooking, asking questions, nagging, and expressing her dissatisfaction.
Today I finally saw the Mom I used to know, but she was only with Dad. Although we both said we wouldn't think about that incident anymore, it really happened, and it's impossible to forget it completely so quickly. I think maybe I'll never truly forget it.
Although Mom and I have started talking, and she helps me with housework, we're not as close as before. Sigh, when will we be able to go back to how we used to live?
Wednesday, October 26, 2005, 11:06 PM, Sunny.
Today I went out to eat with some buddies. I didn't drink a drop of alcohol. I promised Mom I would keep my word. They kept urging me to drink, saying I wasn't a good brother, and asking why I suddenly changed my personality. They said how could I be a man if I didn't drink?
These guys are really something else; they're all my best buddies since childhood, but I just can't drink. No matter what you say, it's always the same: "No." I not only promised my mom, but I also swore to myself that I would never touch a drop of alcohol again. It really annoyed them. When I got
home just now, my mom was watching TV in the living room. She watched me for a while, probably checking to see if I'd been drinking. To prove myself, I deliberately sat down on the sofa next to her and watched TV for a bit. My mom saw I hadn't been drinking, didn't say anything, watched TV for a while, and then went back to her room. Overall, my relationship with my mom has improved somewhat lately. After a month of recuperation, her health has almost fully recovered; at least her complexion isn't pale anymore. I'm finally much more at ease. But I still do housework every day when I get home. My mom doesn't avoid me like she used to; she even helps me with chores. But I always insist on doing the laundry; after all, it's only been a month, and it's best not to let her touch cold water.
In the evenings, Mom doesn't always stay cooped up in the house anymore. Sometimes we watch TV together, and sometimes we go dancing or taking a walk in the community square, just like before. I always go with her, and she's never objected.
When she eats my cooking, she praises my improved skills, and when she sees me doing laundry, she tells me to rest for a while before continuing. She's smiling more often now. So, when they called today to suggest a get-together, I didn't refuse. After all, they've invited me so many times, and I've always turned them down. If I don't go now, I really can't be a true friend.
Wednesday, November 2nd, 2005, 11:34 PM, Cloudy.
The weather suddenly turned cold today. I was freezing when I went out to buy breakfast this morning. Something funny happened when I told Mom to wear more clothes while we were eating. Thinking about the cold weather, I said to Mom, "Mom, it's cold today, wear more clothes."
Just as I opened my mouth to say it, Mom also said, "It's cold today, wear more clothes." We both spoke at the same time, saying the same thing, so we both laughed. I can't help but laugh all day thinking about that scene. Not because I find it funny, but because it's a genuine laugh from the bottom of my heart. Because while I was showing concern for my mother, she started showing concern for me again. I'm so happy!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
, 10:50 PM, Sunny. This morning the sky was very gloomy. It started snowing heavily around 10 AM and hadn't stopped by the afternoon. There was already plenty of snow on the ground. I remembered that my mother hadn't taken an umbrella when she went out this morning, so I went home early to get one and went to pick her up from school. On the way, I saw some nice gloves at a street shop and picked out a pair for her.
When I arrived at her school, they had just let out, but my mother was still in a meeting. I waited for her outside her office for a long time, freezing cold.
The second thing is that my mother and I actually did something inappropriate after drinking, and that one time actually made my mother pregnant. Thinking about it now, it seems like a fairy tale, but it really happened to me.
For the past six months, I've lived in fear and guilt. Although my mother said she forgave me and that we should both forget about it, I know deep down that neither of us can truly forget.
But perhaps time really can heal all wounds. As time goes by, my relationship with my mother is slowly warming up from its freezing point. I feel that I've matured a lot because of this experience. I can now deeply understand my mother's hardships and struggles over the years, and I'm beginning to understand her loneliness and isolation. I understand how to be considerate of her, how to help her, and how to take care of her.
I'm no longer the lazy kid who spends all his time eating, drinking, and having fun with his friends, then coming home to endless computer and TV time. I understand what responsibility and understanding are.
The new year has arrived. I'll continue to work hard, take good care of my mother, and work hard so that my mother and I can return to the way things were as soon as possible, minimizing the impact of that incident on both of us. Go for it!
Sunday, February 12, 2006, Lantern Festival, 8:36 PM, Sunny.
Today is the annual Lantern Festival. While other families are enjoying reunions, my dad has upset my mom again. He left again on the fourth day of the Lunar New Year, saying he was going to visit some officials with the deputy county head in charge of projects during the holiday. He promised to come back and celebrate the Lantern Festival with us, but he called at noon saying he had something to do and couldn't come back. My mom argued with him on the phone and has been unhappy ever since.
To be honest, my mom wasn't like this before. For many years, my dad has been constantly away from home, rarely coming back. As his official position has risen, he's been coming home even less often, but my mom rarely gets angry, at most just nagging. But since that incident, I feel like my mom has changed. She especially wants my dad home. Every time he breaks his promise, my mom gets very angry, argues with him, and cries.
During dinner, I tried to make small talk with my mom, hoping to ease her mind, but she didn't seem to appreciate it. She only gave half-hearted replies and went to her bedroom to rest after dinner. Sigh! Seeing my mom's annoyed expression made me feel down too. This Lantern Festival was very unpleasant.
February 24, 2006, Friday, 9:05 PM, Sunny.
This morning, my mom praised my cooking skills while we were eating, so I was in a good mood all day. But when I got home in the evening, I saw my dad there. Both my parents were sitting on the sofa. My dad had a furrowed brow, and my mom was crying. When she saw me, she got up and went back to her bedroom.
My heart jumped into my throat. Could it be that my dad found out about that? What should I do? Would explaining that I didn't do it on purpose be helpful? My heart pounded as I stood frozen at the door.
Dad looked at me and said, "Xiaofan, what's wrong? Why aren't you coming in?" Hearing Dad's question, I felt a weight lifted from my heart. It seemed Dad didn't know yet, thank goodness. But why was Mom crying? I thought to myself, and casually replied, "Dad, when did you get back?" Dad said, "I landed in the provincial capital last night and just got back this morning." He then went into the bedroom, and I sat in the living room, listening intently. After a while, I heard Mom crying, saying that Dad didn't care about the family, that he only came home a few times a year, and when he did come back, he left in less than a day. She said Dad didn't care about her and that they should just get a divorce, and so on. Later, Dad closed the bedroom door, and I could vaguely hear Mom sobbing. I couldn't make out the specifics of what she was saying, but then I heard Dad say that he would definitely come back next month for their wedding anniversary.
A while later, Dad came out of his room and went to the kitchen to cook. After he finished, he told me that he had to rush to the provincial capital that night and catch a flight back to Beijing early the next morning. He told me to be good at home, work hard, and not just play around.
He also told me to help Mom with some chores and asked a few questions about my work. Then he went into Mom's bedroom. Mom seemed to have stopped crying. I heard Dad say that he was really leaving and the driver was waiting downstairs. Mom didn't pay attention to him and didn't come out to see him off when he left.
A while after Dad left, I went to Mom's bedroom to call her for dinner. When she saw me come in, she turned around, wiped away her tears, tidied her hair, and then came out to eat. While eating, I comforted Mom, saying that Dad was indeed very busy with work. I heard from his workplace that three projects in the county were waiting for approval from the State Planning Commission, and I told Mom not to blame Dad.
Mom glared at me but didn't say anything. She ate a little food quickly and went back to her bedroom. I didn't dare say anything more, washed the dishes, and then came to write in my diary. Dad, no matter how busy he is, he finally comes home and should at least stay for a couple of days. It makes Mom so sad, sigh!
Wednesday, March 8, 2006
, 9:05 PM, Sunny. Today is International Women's Day. This afternoon, I, a grown man who hates shopping the most, made an exception and went shopping for the whole afternoon. It's quite unbelievable. Actually, my purpose in shopping was very simple: I wanted to buy a gift for Mom because today is her day.
After much consideration and selection, I finally bought Mom a scarf. Because the spring winds are quite strong here, many women like to wear a silk scarf.
The scarf has a simple pattern: a white background with black dots. I think Mom often wears professional clothes, so this pattern will look elegant rather than sophisticated.
When Mom came home in the evening, I had already prepared dinner. During dinner, I gave her the scarf. Although she didn't say anything when she received the gift, I could tell she was very happy. She held it in her hands, looking at it again and again, touching it repeatedly, saying, "My son has grown up and is different. He's much better than your father. He's been with me his whole life and never gave me a gift."
I asked Mom to put it on and see. Mom thought for a moment, then skillfully tied a beautiful knot around her neck. It really suited her, and Mom praised my good taste. I was overjoyed. Mom's happiness is my greatest hope. Keep trying!
Friday, March 31, 2006, 11:17 PM, Cloudy
. The 25th was Dad and Mom's wedding anniversary, but Dad didn't keep his promise. Mom woke up very depressed in the morning. Dad called home in the morning, and Mom seemed particularly angry. She kept shouting on the phone, even mentioning divorce. Finally, Mom said in a very loud voice, "You'd better never come back," and then slammed the phone down.
I made lunch and went to my mother's bedroom to call her for lunch, but she didn't open the door. I heard laughter and crying coming from inside the room, and my heart ached. I couldn't help but blame my father for breaking his promise and not caring about my mother.
Looking at the food, I lost my appetite and sat in the living room watching TV, waiting for my mother to feel better. After changing all the channels countless times, my mother finally opened the door. I quickly got up and tried to comfort her, telling her not to be angry, that my father was busy with work, and to let her eat something first. But my mother said she was fine and didn't need me to worry about her, then changed her shoes and went out . I quickly followed her.
My mother soon returned to the park where she had sat quietly before, on the same grassy slope, in the same posture, sitting motionless, lost in thought. I sat a meter away from her, keeping her company.
After a long while, my mother asked me, "Xiaofan, if your father and I divorce, who will you live with?" I was shocked by her question and didn't know how to answer. Seeing that I didn't answer, Mom said again, "Hmph, I knew it. You and your dad are in cahoots. Go away, I don't need you to come with me."
I thought for a moment and said, "Mom, I don't want you and Dad to divorce, but no matter what, I will always stand with you." Mom didn't say anything after hearing my words. She stared at me for a while, then turned her head away in silence.
The weather here in March is still very cold. After sitting there for a long time, I felt my hands and feet getting cold. Seeing that Mom was only wearing a half-length overcoat, I urged her to go home, but she shook her head and refused. I had no choice but to say that I would go home to get her the coat and ask her to wait for me, so I hurriedly ran home. But when I returned with the coat, Mom was gone.
I searched the park thoroughly but couldn't find her. It was already dark, so I had no choice but to go home and wait. Mom didn't return until 9 o'clock. Her lips were already blue from the cold. I quickly made her a bowl of hot soup, but she didn't drink it. She went back to her bedroom, closed the door, and went to sleep.
The next morning, around 9 a.m., my mother still hadn't gotten up. I called her several times, but she didn't answer. I opened the door and called again, but she still didn't react. I sensed something was wrong, so I went closer and saw that she was still asleep, but her face was very red. I touched her forehead; it was burning hot. I called again, and finally, she struggled to open her eyes and whispered a response. I immediately called 120 (the emergency number).
At the hospital, the doctor said my mother had caught a cold, which had led to a lung infection. She received fever-reducing injections, IV fluids, and ice packs until her high fever finally subsided in the afternoon. My heart, which had been in my throat, slowly settled down.
The day before yesterday and yesterday, I stayed by my mother's bedside without leaving her side, bringing her tea and water, wiping her hands and face with a hot towel in the morning, and washing her feet with water in the evening. When it was time to eat, I always fed her spoonful by spoonful. At first, she was embarrassed because there were other patients in the ward, but she couldn't resist my insistence and had to let me take such good care of her.
The patients and their families around my mother all told her how lucky she was to have such a wonderful son. At first, she modestly brushed it off, but later, when others said the same thing, she stopped refusing and smiled at me, making me feel embarrassed.
Today, my mother felt much better. She even went for a walk in the hospital courtyard this morning. This afternoon, she said she couldn't get used to the smell of the hospital and the noise of people coming and going in the wards, and strongly requested to be discharged and go home to rest. I had no choice but to agree. In the evening, I prepared the food in the kitchen. As I was about to put it on the table, I turned around and saw my mother leaning against the kitchen doorway, looking at me. I froze, holding the dishes in both hands. Our eyes met, and my mother also paused, her face slightly flushed. Without saying anything, she came over, took the dishes from my hands, and placed them on the table.
During dinner, Mom said, "Xiaofan, thank you for taking care of me these past few days. I'm so touched. You've really grown up. I'm so happy for you. I'm fine now. You must be tired these past few days, so don't worry about me. Go and rest early after dinner. If you get sick too, I'll really have no one to rely on." Hearing Mom's words warmed my heart. Mom actually sees me as someone to rely on. How wonderful! I said, "Mom, I'm not tired. The most important thing now is for you to get better. Don't worry, I'm young, this little thing won't tire me out. Dad's not here. He told me to take good care of you. Otherwise, he'll punish me when he gets back."
I wanted to ease the tension between Mom and Dad with these lighthearted words, but Mom didn't seem to appreciate it at all. When I mentioned Dad, her face darkened, and she said, "Don't defend him. After all these years, don't I know him? When has he ever thought about this family, you, or me, except for work? Let's eat." Seeing that my words had ruined the pleasant atmosphere, I didn't say anything more. Sigh, I felt guilty and worried about Mom about that incident a while ago. Now that I'm finally feeling better, I have to worry about Dad and Mom's relationship. It's really tough.
When we were going home after dinner, I suggested taking a taxi since it's quite far, but Mom insisted on taking a walk. She said I'd made her gain weight and she needed to exercise to lose it. Seeing how enthusiastic she was, I reluctantly carried all the bags and complied.
Tired! It is tiring, but I'm also happy. Everything is getting better, and getting better still.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006, 9:17 PM, Sunny.
After a week of hard work, I finally got that matter settled for my friend. Although it cost him some money, the matter was resolved smoothly. However, I owe him a lot of favors at work. To thank me, my friend gave me two full sets of tickets to a scenic resort in a neighboring city, saying it included admission, entertainment, accommodation, and meals, and that I should take my girlfriend there. He doesn't know that my girlfriend and I broke up a long time ago.
Sigh, I don't know if I feel guilty or if it's my due. Hehe. That evening, I told my mom about it and asked if she was interested in going to relax. She said she'd think about it. After dinner, she said she'd heard the scenic area was quite nice, and if no one was going with me, she could go with me.
After discussing it, we decided to take a day off this Friday and go, returning by bus on Sunday afternoon. "Old Gan" was quite considerate; although he's a friend of a friend and we don't see each other often, I really cared about him this time. These two sets of tickets aren't bribery, are they? Haha.
Sunday, May 21, 2006, 9:17 PM, Light Rain.
Things in this world really do change with circumstances. I thought that as my relationship with my mom improved, we could slowly move on from that incident, but who knew that this trip would cause a qualitative change in our relationship? This change surprised me and also terrified me.
The day before yesterday, my mother and I went to that scenic resort as planned. I borrowed a car from a friend. Although I don't drive much and was a little nervous on the road, the scenery along the mountain road was truly breathtaking. My mother seemed especially happy, gesturing and describing the scenery like a child, and constantly handing me water and wiping my sweat.
Influenced by my mother and the scenery, I felt particularly relaxed and comfortable. The journey was smooth, and we arrived at the resort after about three hours. The resort, nestled in the mountains, was uniquely built, filled with strange rocks and bamboo forests. The accommodations were all wooden villas, clean and tidy, decorated warmly and elegantly. However, there was
a problem: because it was a package deal, the resort only provided one room with two 1.5-meter beds. Remembering what had happened, I felt it wasn't appropriate and wanted to ask the staff if they could help us get another room, even if it cost extra. But my mother didn't seem to care, saying that it was a waste to pay extra for something free, and insisted on not getting another room. So, I had no choice but to stay with my mother.
After lunch, we went to the scenic area. The scenery was indeed beautiful: lush bamboo forests, majestic waterfalls, and crystal-clear babbling brooks. All of this made Mom incredibly excited, as if she had returned to her youth. She took off her shoes and caught fish in the stream, bought some homemade bamboo water guns from the locals, and we had a water fight.
Mom, who used to be quite timid, wasn't afraid at all when she went rafting. She shouted excitedly as she rushed down from the top. The picturesque scenery and relaxed atmosphere made Mom and me completely forget all our worries, and we had a wonderful time.
Of course, every evening when Mom was taking a shower and changing clothes, I would consciously go for a walk beforehand to avoid her misunderstanding or remembering that incident, so everything was fine.
Yesterday afternoon, Mom and I climbed the highest mountain in the scenic area. It was already a bit hot in May, and Mom was clearly starting to tire when we were almost at the top. I suggested we turn back, but Mom said, "How can we? We've climbed more than halfway; we can't give up halfway."
We drank some water, rested for a while, and prepared to continue climbing. But after a few steps, I noticed Mom hadn't gotten up yet. Just as I was about to ask her, she spoke first: "Xiaofan, Mom's almost exhausted, I can't even stand up. Why don't you help me?"
Her resentful tone startled me. But Mom stared at me and reached out her hand. I had no choice but to go back and take her hand, helping her up. Seeing her up, I wanted to let go, but Mom didn't seem inclined to. She didn't look at me, but held my hand and continued climbing.
I had no choice but to continue pulling her up. There were few people on the mountain path, and the mountains were very quiet, with only a few birdsongs and the occasional rustling of the wind through the trees and bamboo. Mom and I didn't speak, holding hands and focusing on climbing towards the summit.
When we reached the top, our palms were sweaty, whether from heat or fatigue. My mother's slender fingers and delicate skin made my heart pound. Sensing something was wrong, I quickly let go of her hand and sat down under a tree, drinking water incessantly. My mother watched me silently for a while, then found a rock to sit on, her eyes gazing blankly down the mountain.
A cool breeze had picked up on the mountaintop, but remembering what had just happened, remembering the feeling of holding my mother's hand, I still felt sweat trickling down my forehead. My mother and I sat, one under the tree, the other on the rock, neither of us speaking. After a while, the dozen or so people who had been on the mountaintop gradually descended, leaving only my mother and me. My mother went to the observation deck at the summit, leaned against the railing for a while, and then called me over.
My mother said, "Have you seen the Titanic?"
"I've seen it, what's wrong?" "Do you remember that classic pose the male and female leads struck at the bow of the boat? I've always wanted to stand at the bow of a boat and imitate it someday, but I've never had the chance to ride a boat. Does this look like the bow of a boat? Below is a sea of bamboo, so beautiful. Can you help your mother fulfill this wish?" As I spoke, I felt my mother's face turn slightly red as she glanced at me, then she stood by the railing with her arms outstretched.
Hearing my mother's words, my heart started pounding again. I pondered my mother's words. What did she mean? Was she just asking me to help her fulfill her wish to imitate the movie?
Just as I was nervously thinking, my mother turned her head and said, "What's wrong, Xiaofan? Don't you want to help me?" I quickly composed myself and said, "No."
"Then come on, stand behind me and hold my waist."
I remember being extremely nervous at the time, my outstretched hands were trembling a little, but I finally held my mother's waist. That soft feeling almost made me impulsively act, but I didn't dare to think too much about it. Sweat kept pouring down my forehead.
Mom stood there for a while and said, "Close your eyes and listen to the wind." I subconsciously did as Mom said and closed my eyes, but I could only feel the warmth of Mom's body coming from my hands. I couldn't hear any wind at all, which made my hands tremble even more.
Just as I was trying my best to suppress my feelings, Mom said again, "How beautiful! If only we had a camera to capture this moment, we could preserve it forever. I wish it could stay like this forever." Mom's words struck me like a bolt of lightning. What did Mom mean? This was definitely not just a simple exclamation caused by the beautiful scenery. The meaning behind her words... Just as I was thinking anxiously, Mom turned her head and glanced at me, smiled and said, "What are you thinking about, silly boy? Okay, let's go down the mountain."
I quickly came back to my senses, forced a smile and said okay, letting go of Mom's waist. Mom smiled but didn't say anything and started walking down the mountain. I quickly followed behind her.
Along the way, Mom hummed a song and skipped along like a child, occasionally picking up a fallen bamboo leaf or wildflower. Finally, she even made a wreath out of roadside vines and wildflowers and wore it on her head, asking me if it looked good.
I, however, was trailing behind, my mind racing with anxious thoughts. Sometimes I thought of Mom's hands, sometimes of her back, and her words kept echoing in my ears.
The saying "the weather is unpredictable" is so true. Just moments before, the sky was fine, but when we reached the mountainside, the wind picked up, and many clouds rolled in from the east. Mom said it was going to rain, so we quickened our pace and hurried downhill. We rushed, but as soon as we reached the foot of the mountain, a torrential downpour began. Without thinking, I took off my t-shirt and used it to shield Mom and me from the rain, then grabbed her hand and ran towards the resort.
We finally made it back to our room, both of us soaked to the bone. We'd run so fast that as soon as we closed the door, we were both leaning against the wall, panting heavily, too exhausted to even walk back inside.
After a short rest, I noticed that my mother's hair, which had been styled in a bun, was now disheveled from the rain. Her white t-shirt clung tightly to her body, revealing the shape of her breasts, and her pale yellow bra was clearly visible. I, on the other hand, had taken off my t-shirt and was shirtless, with rainwater streaming down my back.
We exchanged a glance. My mother seemed to notice my gaze, looked down at herself, blushed slightly, and turned her face away. I immediately looked away from her chest and said, "Mom, hurry up and take a shower and change your clothes. I'll wait for you outside." I turned to open the door.
My hand had just grasped the door lock when Mom hugged me tightly from behind. My body stiffened, my mind went blank, and I stood there dumbfounded. Mom held me tightly, her head pressed against my back, and I could feel her sobbing.
After a while, I heard Mom crying as she said, "Xiaofan, thank you for taking care of me this past year. I'm so touched. You know, I've never been cared for or cherished by a man like this before. You know your dad; he only cares about his career and work, all he thinks about is how to get promoted. He never cares about our family. Do you know how much bitterness and loneliness I've endured these past years? I didn't even have anyone to confide in. It's your care for me all this time that has made me feel like a woman again. It's so wonderful to have someone who cares and loves me. Do you remember what happened last year? It started..." "I was in so much pain then, I felt like I couldn't go on living. But now I'm grateful for that incident. If it weren't for that, how could you be so considerate and caring towards me? I'm a woman, I crave to be cared for, to be cherished. I also have loneliness and solitude. Can you understand me? Mom isn't a bad woman, otherwise I would have wronged your father long ago. But now I really depend on you, I want you to love me, care for me, and cherish me. If I hated that incident before, now I don't resent it at all, I don't regret it at all. Do you understand what Mom is saying?" Mom said, crying.
Although her words were a little incoherent, every word touched my nerves. Of course I understood what she was saying. I felt my heart beating faster and faster. My body, which had been chilled by the rain, began to feel the warmth from Mom's body. I didn't know if the water on my back was Mom's tears or the rain from before, but I didn't know how to answer Mom. I could only let Mom hold me and let her sob on my back.
After a while, seeing that I didn't answer her or react, Mom slowly let go of my hand, went into the room, and lay down on the bed to continue crying. I stood there blankly for a while, then looked out the door. The rain was still pouring down. I ran to a small pavilion in the bamboo grove not far away, repeatedly thinking about Mom's words.
Mom has worked so hard. I've witnessed and deeply understood everything she's done over the years. I've been raised by Mom almost entirely since I was little. Dad rarely came home. Mom took care of everything at home, big and small, and did all the chores by herself.
Mom appears gentle on the surface, but she's a strong-willed person inside. She's never talked about these things with anyone, but I remember many times when Mom took me to see other families of three strolling in the park, and when couples walked intimately together, she always showed a hint of loneliness.
Yes, Mom is a woman, and women all yearn to be loved and cherished, but she rarely received that from Dad. The way she was happy when I gave her gifts these past few times showed that Mom is also a little woman, longing for romance and to be pampered. When I told my mother I loved her too, before I could finish speaking, she covered my mouth with her hand, nestled in my arms, and said, "Don't say anymore. Actually, I've been conflicted. I've scolded myself for developing such an attachment to you, but your care and protection really touch me. I feel so happy and warm. You don't understand a woman's longing for care and love. You should know my personality. Although I'm a woman, once I've made up my mind, even if it's wrong, I won't regret it. Actually, I thought about it for a long time before I dared to tell you. I've made up my mind. Since we've already had a sexual experience, I don't care about anything else. Even if there's any retribution, it's my fault, so let me bear it alone. I just want you to continue to care for me, understand me, protect me, and love me, so I can be a real woman, a happy woman." After saying that, she looked up at me and asked, "Okay?" Hearing my mother's confession, I was shocked once again. My mother's determination made my heart churn like a stormy sea. I felt that I, a man, was not as good as my mother. I felt so pathetic.
Looking at my mother's tear-streaked face, I felt an overwhelming pity for her. Feeling the softness and warmth of her body, I felt myself starting to heat up, my mouth dry. I hugged her tightly and said,
"Mom, I'm so sorry, I'm such a wimp, making you so sad. I love you so much, I'll take good care of you and cherish you, I'll always love you as long as you want."
Hearing my words, my mother hugged me tightly back. Slowly, our body temperatures began to rise. I felt my mother's breasts pressed tightly against my chest, and my hands involuntarily began to gently stroke her back.
The room fell silent; I could almost hear my mother's and my heartbeats. We hugged for a long time. Gradually, my initial nervousness subsided, and my confused mind cleared. Slowly, my mother's scent aroused my body, and my lower body began to swell. In a moment of passion, I impulsively cupped my mother's face and kissed her deeply. Our new relationship began.
Before I knew it, my mother and I were both naked. All I could see before me was a snow-white, voluptuous body, which ignited my desire. My mind went blank, and I pounced on her, kissing and caressing her relentlessly. Finally, I entered her. After a series of rapid thrusts, I rolled off my mother, covered in sweat, and lay on the bed.
The rooftop light blinded me, and my mother lay there panting. Gradually, our breathing calmed, and my mind returned to normal. I asked her, "Mom, are you really not regretting it?"
She rolled over, rested her head on mine, and hugged me, saying, "As long as you love and care for me, I won't regret it. Even if thunder struck, I'd still be happy."
I was deeply moved by her words and reached out to hug her tightly, savoring the warmth. We didn't speak again, and slowly, my mother and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I saw my mother was still in my arms, also awake, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. I asked her what was wrong, but she didn't answer. Instead, she asked me, "Xiaofan, don't you think I'm shameless, a mother doing this to her son?" I turned to face her and said, "Mom, I absolutely don't have such thoughts. I've always thought you're the kindest mother in the world and the best woman. I'm not a child anymore. I understand your loneliness and I know about normal physiological needs. Although others might think what we're doing is wrong, I know it's because you love me, and I love you too. You'll always be the best in my heart."
My mother kept looking at me as I finished speaking, and tears started flowing again. I think she was moved by my words, so I teased her, saying, "Mom, why are you crying again? You're such a grown-up, why are you still crying? You've been crying for so long today, your eyes look like peaches. It breaks my heart to see you like this. If you cry again, I'll cry too. Let's not sleep tonight, let's have a good cry-out!"
My mother was genuinely amused by my words. Wiping away her tears, she smiled and said, "I won't cry anymore. I'll be so happy with you in the future. I'll never cry again."
At that moment, I felt the bed beneath me was wet. I released my mother and sat up, seeing a large wet patch on the bed. I realized that my mother had gone back to her room wearing soaking wet clothes and had climbed onto the bed to cry. Combined with my own soaking wet pants, the bed had been soaked for a while, but I hadn't noticed because of my nervousness and excitement.
My mother also realized something was wrong and looked down, saying, "Oh dear, it's filthy!" She quickly jumped off the bed.
This movement caused her breasts to jiggle, and my gaze was involuntarily drawn to them. My mother sensed my gaze and realized she was still naked. Blushing, she
grabbed a pillowcase from the other bed, covered her chest, said "Don't come in," and fled into the bathroom. Hearing the running water, I slowly calmed down, sat on the sofa, and reflected on what had happened between my mother and me that day—a mix of surprise, emotion, and a little fear and pressure.
I was overjoyed to have my mother again, and to have her for a long time to come. I was also moved by how suddenly things happened, how quickly things changed, and by my mother's decisiveness and resolve. I felt a little guilty towards my father, and the pressure was about how to better care for my mother, show her love, and make her happy. My
mother came out in her pajamas after her shower, and I showered too. Since one bed was wet, my mother and I squeezed onto another bed and cuddled together. We didn't make love; we just held each other, caressed each other, enjoying the deep love and warm atmosphere, sharing our innermost feelings as we slowly drifted off to sleep.
This morning, when I woke up, my mother was no longer in the room. I was a little nervous, wondering if she had truly regretted her decision. I quickly got dressed and went to look for her. Finally, I saw her on an open-air balcony in the resort. My mother was holding onto the railing, facing the sunlight and looking into the distance. My heart pounded as I walked to her side. My mother turned her head, saw me, her face flushed slightly, and then turned back to look ahead.
I asked nervously, "Mom, what's wrong?"
My mother noticed something was off about my voice and seemed to understand my thoughts. She smiled and said, "Nothing. I came out to watch the sunrise. Don't you think the sunrise is the most beautiful, especially the sunlight after the rain? From the moment I made up my mind to push through the clouds, I was ready to welcome the new sun. I won't regret it." I understood the meaning behind my mother's words. She was just too shy to say it outright, but she clearly implied that she wouldn't regret it. My anxious heart calmed down. Relaxing, I leaned on the railing and said, "Mom, I always thought you were a very gentle woman, but I didn't expect you to be such a determined and decisive one." My mother blushed and said, "Gentle or decisive, it's all a woman's nature. Women all have a vulnerable side and crave support."
"Mom, don't worry, I'll be your support from now on. I'll never let you suffer." My mother didn't say anything after hearing my words, but gave me a deep look, smiled, and said, "Let's go, Mom's hungry." After breakfast, my mother lost the calm she had on the balcony that morning and became a lively and adorable little girl again. We chased and played in the bamboo forest on the mountain. She made another flower wreath and had me put it on her. I was no longer as nervous and conflicted as the day before. I put the wreath on her and even kissed her on the cheek, which startled my mother. She nervously looked around to see if anyone was there, then shyly warned me that I absolutely couldn't do that in public.
After lunch, we started our journey home. Along the way, my mother kept talking about all the beautiful scenery she had seen these past few days, exclaiming that these were the most relaxed and happiest days she had had in recent years.
Seeing my mother's happy face, some of my previous worries slowly disappeared. Recalling the intimate moment with my mother last night, I suddenly realized a problem, a very serious problem. I slammed on the brakes and pulled the car to the side of the road. Because my mother wasn't expecting it, her body lurched forward, almost hitting the windshield.
My mother was startled and, seeing my nervous expression, quickly asked, "What's wrong, Xiaofan?" I didn't know what to say for a moment. My mother became anxious, "Xiaofan, what's wrong? Say something! Don't scare your mother!"
I mustered my courage and asked softly, "Mom, about what we did yesterday, could you be pregnant again?" My mother's face flushed red at my question. She turned to look ahead and said, "You only just remembered? What were you doing then?"
I nervously replied, "I... I was too impulsive. I'm sorry, Mom, it's all my fault." My mother was amused by my nervousness and stammering words. She turned back and glared at me, saying, "Okay, don't be nervous. You'll be fine these next few days. Don't overthink it. Just drive carefully. You scared me to death." Hearing my mother's words, I felt relieved, smiled foolishly, and continued driving.
It was past 9 pm when I got home. We were both exhausted. We each took a shower and ate something quickly. Mom went to her room. Without being invited, I didn't know whether I should go to her room to sleep, so I went back to my own room. I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, my mind replaying everything that happened yesterday. It felt like a dream. I don't know what the future holds for Mom and me; everything is uncertain. But it's so good to have Mom.
It's almost 2 am now, and I've never written such a long diary entry before. Yesterday, I was very confused because Mom's behavior really baffled me. I thought that after we had been intimate, Mom's attitude towards me should have changed. But this morning, after praising my cooking, she rushed off to work without any intimacy or lingering affection.
In my imagination, after having physical intimacy with Mom, we should have a romantic relationship beyond just mother and son. Even if it's not like the erotic novels I've read, it should still be very intimate, right? Although I now know that my mother will not regret having sex with me, why is it that I don't feel like a lover? But I don't dare to ask her directly, so this confusion has troubled me all day.
When I got home that evening, my mother was already there, busy in the kitchen. I offered to help, but she shooed me out, saying, "Alright, what's a grown man doing in the kitchen all day? Ah, I wasn't feeling well before, but I'm fine now. Don't worry about these things, just go out." I said, "Mom, I told you I'd take good care of you and cherish you." My mother replied, "I know you mean well, that's enough. Taking care of me and cherishing me doesn't mean you have to cook for me every day. I need someone who cares about me and cherishes me to rely on, not just a cook. Listen to me and go out." She pushed me out of the kitchen, so I went back to the living room and turned on the TV. I could hear my mother humming a song as she cooked; she seemed to be in a good mood.
During dinner, my mother told me about her work: who had argued with a student's parent, and the parent had come to her demanding a resolution; who had used last year's lesson plans during a school inspection. My mother talked on and on, and I listened with great interest.
As we were finishing our meal, Mom asked me, "Xiaofan, won't you get annoyed by all this?" I said, "No, why would I? I've never heard you tell me these things before; it's quite interesting." Mom sighed and said, "Sigh, before, whenever I told your dad about these things, he'd say it was annoying, that these things had nothing to do with him. Actually, I didn't mean to nag; I just wanted to vent about some work-related frustrations to my closest person."
I said, "Mom, you can tell me anything you want to say from now on. I'm always willing to listen, no matter what you say. I love listening."
"Really? Don't let it just be a passing fancy; you'll end up like your dad." I said, "Mom, really, I love listening to anything you want to say. I swear." Mom smiled happily and said, "Xiaofan is so good." After dinner
, I took the dishes from Mom and washed them. We watched TV together for a while, and then Mom went back to her room. I really wanted to follow her in, but seeing that Mom didn't say anything, I didn't dare to be presumptuous. I was conflicted, unsure whether I should go into my mother's room. I really wanted to be close to her again, but I hadn't received an invitation from her. Around 10 PM, I couldn't sit still any longer and finally mustered the courage to push open the door to my mother's bedroom.
My mother was already asleep. I quietly walked to her bedside. She was turned to her side with her back to me. I gently called her name twice, but she didn't respond. I assumed she was asleep. Although I really wanted to snuggle into her blankets, I didn't dare. After thinking for a while, I reluctantly went back inside.
I had only taken a couple of steps when I heard my mother say in a very soft voice, "I thought you weren't going to come in." I turned around in surprise. My mother was already sitting up, her head down, her hands fidgeting with each other, but I could still see that her face was very red. I said, "You didn't say anything, so I didn't dare to come." My mother glared at me and said, "Idiot, do you expect me to ask you to come?" I immediately realized that my mother was actually just shy. I really was quite naive. I grinned foolishly, immediately rushed over, jumped onto the bed, and hugged my mother. She struggled, pushing me away and saying, "Oh, don't rush! You were watching TV outside, why didn't you go wash up? Go take a shower!" I then remembered that my mother was a very clean person, and I smiled awkwardly, letting go of her and rushing into the bathroom to shower. When I returned to my mother's room wearing only my underwear, the main light was off, leaving only the small pink lamp by the bedside, making the room incredibly cozy.
My mother had already buried her head under the covers. I pulled back the covers and slipped inside. Her pajamas were gone; she was lying there in only her bra and underwear, eyes closed. Whether it was the light or shyness, her face was flushed.
I immediately embraced her smooth, warm body and kissed her face and lips. My mother's body stiffened for a moment before she hugged me tightly and kissed me. Soon, my hands roamed over her body, and I pulled off her bra and panties. Her breathing quickened, and she made soft moaning sounds.
Sensing my reaction, she pushed me away and said, "You used to be so careless, but now you regret it, you idiot, look at that black bag in the bedside table." I turned to look at my mother; she was looking at me too. Her face seemed to flush even more as she looked at me, and she closed her eyes again.
I quickly opened the bedside table drawer. Inside the black plastic bag were two boxes of condoms, Jissbon brand. My mother is quite willing to spend money; she's so thoughtful. And it seems she was already prepared to be intimate with me.
A surge of excitement welled up inside me. I opened the box, tore off a piece, and turned to pounce on my mother. But the tension and regret from before had caused my penis to shrivel. No matter how I kissed or touched her, she was already panting heavily, but my penis just wouldn't get hard. The more anxious I became, the worse it got. Finally, I helplessly got off her, pounding the bed in frustration.
My mother sensed something was wrong and, seeing my anxious state, said, "You're just too impatient and careless. Don't worry, it's just that you were too nervous. It'll be fine in a bit." As she spoke, she leaned closer to me, pressing her body tightly against mine, resting her head on my arm, and gently stroking my chest with one hand.
This was the first time my mother had ever touched me so willingly. My anxiety immediately vanished. I felt a ticklish, pleasant sensation wherever her hand touched. I saw that my mother's eyes were closed, her face flushed, but her hand never stopped. It slowly moved to the base of my thigh, and after exploring there, she lowered her head, burying her face in my armpit, and grasped my penis.
I felt the softness and warmth of my mother's hand, and in a moment of impulse, my penis hardened, seemingly even harder than before. My mother sensed my erection and squeezed her hand tightly before pulling it back.
I knew she was still shy, but I didn't care anymore. Seizing the opportunity, I rolled over, tore open the condom packaging, and climbed on top of her. I spread her legs, guiding my penis towards her genitals. She was already very wet, so I easily slid in with a soft "whoosh." My mother's body tensed, her brow furrowed slightly, she snorted, opened her eyes, glared at me, and then closed them again.
I continued to thrust in and out of her, and with each movement, she held me tightly, her legs spread wide. She didn't make any of the usual "uh-huh" or "ah-ah" sounds you hear in movies and novels, no "faster," "harder," "I can't take it anymore," or anything like that. She just made rhythmic "hiss... um... hiss... um" sounds with each thrust.
Although it didn't sound as stimulating as in movies and novels, it was like heavenly music to me, making me even more excited. Soon, Mom's characteristic moans grew louder and louder, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. I don't know how many times or how long my big penis had entered and exited Mom's body, but then Mom's body stiffened, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, letting out a long hiss... and her body went limp, her hips ceasing their upward movement.
I knew Mom had climaxed, and I quickened my movements, finally a gush of semen shot out, into Mom's body—no, it should be said, into the condom. Only then did I realize that I was covered in sweat.
I got off Mom and lay on the bed, panting heavily. I saw Mom's eyes were slightly closed, her chest heaving, her face flushed, and beads of sweat on her forehead. Her languid and weak appearance was truly endearing. I leaned over and wiped the sweat from her forehead, gently kissing her cheek. Mom opened her eyes, looked at me shyly, and then snuggled into my arms, hugging me tightly. Neither of us spoke. We held each other, inhaling Mom's scent and listening to each other's heartbeats. The room was utterly quiet.
My heartbeat slowly returned to normal. I stroked Mom's back and asked, "Mom, are you comfortable?" Mom's face was still buried in my chest. She didn't answer, but pinched my back slightly without speaking. I asked playfully, "Mom, tell me, are you comfortable?" Mom pinched me again, still not speaking, but nodded twice with her head buried in my chest.
I knew Mom was shy, so I didn't tease her anymore. I nibbled on her hair, gently stroking her smooth back, feeling the softness and smoothness of Mom's body. Mom nestled obediently in my arms like a well-behaved child, and my heart was filled with happiness.
I realized that although I had been intimate with my mother three times, the first time was after drinking, and I didn't even know how it happened. The second time at the resort was also due to an impulsive act, and I hadn't properly appreciated my mother's body.
I released my arms from my mother's embrace, lifted the blanket, and laid her flat. My mother didn't know what I was doing, and she closed her eyes, letting me do as I pleased. My gaze swept over my mother's body, and I realized that she was truly beautiful. Her skin was fair and smooth, without any obvious scars.
Although she was already 40 years old, her body was still very elastic; her breasts weren't very large, slightly sagging, but it didn't affect her cleavage; her nipples weren't large, and her areolas were also small, about the size of a one-yuan coin, and a dark brownish-red color.
Her stomach wasn't very flat, and her pubic hair wasn't thick but was very black, not large in area but quite regular in length; her legs didn't look bloated but were very firm, her calves were very thin, and her toenails were painted with light pink nail polish, something I had never noticed before.
She noticed me looking at her body, blushed, and said, "What are you looking at? Ah, don't look at me like that!" She tried to pull the blanket over herself, but how could I let such a good opportunity pass? I grabbed the blanket to stop her. She tried a few times but couldn't budge it, and shyly covered her face with her hands.
I wanted to part her legs to get a closer look at her genitals, but she squeezed them tightly together. I said, "Mom, you're so beautiful, let me see you, please." I spoke in a coquettish tone, and with a sudden movement, I spread her legs, finally exposing her genitals to me.
She quickly lowered her hands from her face and used them to cover her genitals. I continued to pull her hands away, using my arms to brace her legs and prevent her from closing them. She struggled a few times but failed, and then covered her face again, remaining still.
Although her pubic hair wasn't thick, it extended to both sides of her vulva. Her labia weren't thick and were brownish-red, with some of the fluid that had just flowed out. I gently parted her labia; inside, it was pink and tender. Her clitoris was small; I wondered if it would enlarge when she was aroused.
As my hand touched her labia and clitoris, my mother's buttocks began to tremble slightly, and a clear fluid started to secrete from within. I couldn't resist wanting to kiss her, but just as I lowered my head and my lips touched her genitals,
my mother suddenly sat up, saying, "Oh dear, what are you doing? Ah, that's so dirty! You're kissing me like that!" I laughed and said, "How could it be dirty? My mother's body is the cleanest place." My mother glared at me and said, "Really, is that a place you can kiss?" It seemed that my mother had never performed oral sex before. I said, "Mom, you're so beautiful. I just want to kiss you, I want to kiss every part of your body. Actually, everyone kisses here, that's called oral sex. Only the most beloved do that. Just let me kiss you." Saying this, I pushed her down and, without saying another word, lowered my head and kissed her.
Caught off guard, Mom tried to squeeze her legs together again, but my tongue was already licking her labia. Her body shuddered violently, she hissed, and her legs gave way. I licked her labia for a while, then parted them with my tongue, licking the tender flesh inside.
Mom's whole body began to tremble, her hips twisting, and she made hissing sounds again. Soon, her small clitoris enlarged, and my tongue quickly found it. Mom's body contorted even more violently, one hand gripping the sheets, the other clutching my hair, her moans growing louder. I diligently licked her clitoris, and copious amounts of fluid gushed out. I began to push my tongue further inside her vagina, stirring it around, my nose able to rub against it.

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My relationship with my teacher mother ~To be continued

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