Shanghai husbands are truly admirable; they let their son marry their mother.

page views:1 Publication date:2022-09-28

Can you believe it? I married my mother. Believe it or not, it was all thanks to my father's generosity and arrangements. Let me tell you... Our family consists of my father, my mother, and me.My father, Yang Dacheng, is the man I admire most in my life; he is my role model. I love him and respect him deeply. In my eyes, he truly is a towering figure. At the age of fifteen, he responded to the Party's call to "go to the countryside," going to the remote "Great Northern Wilderness." There, he worked and studied simultaneously, and ten years later, he returned to Shanghai and was admitted to Shanghai Jiao Tong University in the first year after the resumption of the college entrance examination. He married my mother at the age of thirty; she was eighteen at the time. Soon after, I was born. Then, he quit his job and went to Shenzhen alone, where he carved out a successful career, establishing his own company. It is said that he now has assets exceeding 100 million yuan. My mother, Xia Shanshan, is an outstanding actress with the Shanghai Yue Opera Troupe and even won the "Little Hundred Flowers" Award. She was the troupe's undisputed queen, meaning "the most beautiful among all the flowers." I don't know how to describe her beauty, so let me quote a famous poet's comment on my mother's beauty: "...Xia Shanshan's beauty is not just about pleasing your senses; it also evokes a deep emotion within you, an indescribable feeling, a touch of joy mixed with a touch of melancholy; her beauty makes your heart tremble, and makes you dizzy with its allure..." From the time I was old enough to understand, my heroic father and star-like mother made me the envy of my classmates, who all thought I, Yang Xuecong, was the happiest person in the world. However, I didn't feel happy at all. My father was busy with his business and often away, while my mother was constantly busy with performances. I was the only one who learned to take care of myself. I learned to cook at five, bought groceries and cooked by myself at seven, and by ten I could do all the housework. This hardship tempered me and accelerated my maturity. I understood my parents and always looked up to them, so I studied diligently, consistently ranking first in my class. However, my health wasn't very good. At thirteen, I contracted pneumonia, which was never fully cured, so a cough was a constant companion. As I grew older, my attachment to my mother grew stronger. When I was ten, I started collecting her photos and magazines, thrilled by the various expressions on her face. At twelve, my attention shifted to her clothes, and I began washing them for her. At first, she wouldn't let me, but later, whether because she was too busy with work or because I was becoming increasingly dependent on her at home, she stopped complaining. Sometimes, if I managed to wash her underwear, I would be overjoyed. Around fifteen, one day I accidentally found a curly, shiny black pubic hair on her bed. I was curious and excited. From then on, every day I would search her room for fallen hair and pubic hair. These treasures gradually fueled my fantasies of intimacy with my mother, and I began masturbating, always with her as the object of my fantasies. It was also from that time that I started keeping a diary, where I freely expressed my love for my mother and indulged in my sexual fantasies about her. But I wasn't satisfied with that; I wanted to go further. To win her favor, I couldn't help but shower my mother with attention, treating her like a princess. Sometimes, when she was in a good mood, I would massage her back, wash her hair, or comb it. Sometimes I would joke with her, making funny faces to scare her. Sometimes she would invite me to go shopping with her, or to see a movie or have a Western meal. Gradually, my conversations with my mother became richer and more engaging. Later, I found that our conversations became more relaxed, and we would even exchange harmless jokes like friends, enjoying each other's company immensely. Later, I was admitted to my father's alma mater, National Chiao Tung University. I spent less time with my mother, but my love for her grew stronger, and I cherished her even more. I knew that age had gradually diminished my mother's former glory; she had fewer and fewer opportunities to perform on stage, but she suffered more and more grievances, causing her a deep sense of loss. But my father's business grew bigger and bigger, and he could no longer guarantee his monthly visits home. His son, with whom she had spent nearly twenty years, was also leaving her. How could she not be sad and lonely? Thinking of this, my heart ached, and a wave of tenderness welled up within me. How I wished I could hold this poor woman in my arms forever, offering her frail body a strong support with my arms, and dedicating my entire life to loving and cherishing this beautiful woman. So, whenever I had free time, I would call home, sometimes talking for over an hour. Every weekend, I would rush home to do all the housework, not wanting to leave her with anything to do. Sometimes I would bring her small gifts like hair clips and stockings. The distance between us gradually closed, and her attitude towards me changed imperceptibly. She slowly opened up in my presence, no longer trying to maintain the reserve and composure expected of a mother. I could vaguely sense a woman's attachment to a man. I quietly observed her changes, yet constantly sought opportunities, fantasizing about a new breakthrough. Finally, one day, our relationship unknowingly broke through and transcended. This was something I never dreamed of. Whenever I did housework, my mother would always be beside me, either chatting with me or simply watching me quietly. I noticed her tone of voice had become exceptionally gentle, and her gaze towards me was filled with tenderness. One day, while I was tidying her bedroom, she was in a particularly good mood. So, I mischievously teased her by suddenly coughing violently, pretending to be breathless. She was terrified, her face turning pale. She ran to me, hugged me, and cried out, "Is it my old problem acting up again? It's all my fault…it's all my fault…I'm a lazy woman, I'm a bad mother…" She was sobbing uncontrollably, her words incoherent. Seeing her tearful, heartbroken appearance, I truly understood how beautiful "pear blossoms in the rain" could be, and how wonderful the heart of "cherishing flowers and jade" could be. I held her tightly in my arms, and she rested her head on my shoulder. I gently stroked her hair, constantly comforting her. She slowly calmed down, looked up at me anxiously, and said softly, "Are you feeling better?" I noticed that her eyes were slightly swollen, and a few strands of her dark hair were stuck to her jade-like cheeks with tears. Her bright red lips seemed to be saying something... I couldn't bear to look. This was the first time in my life I had admired her face so closely. She was so beautiful, dazzlingly beautiful. I controlled my emotions and whispered in her ear, "Silly girl, I was just teasing you." I felt her body tremble, and she suddenly broke free from me, crying again. She raised her fists and pounded my chest, crying, "You lied to me, you little rascal, you lied to me! You scared my soul away! You made me cry for so long! All you do is bully me..." I grabbed her little hands, and she leaned back into my arms, crying and fussing. I knew Mom was being affectionate with me; her repeated use of "I love you" made my bones feel weak and incredibly comfortable. So I whispered in her ear, "Okay, okay, my lazy mom, my naughty mom, and my spoiled mom." I gently stroked her cheek with my finger, then boldly laughed and said, "Shame on you, shame on you, shame on you! What kind of mother acts like this in front of her son?" Her face immediately turned bright red, but she wouldn't give up easily; she acted like a little...Pouting her rosy lips like a girl, she stomped her feet and said sweetly, "I'm going to be cute, I'm going to be cute, what can you do about it?" Then she chuckled and hugged me sweetly, saying, "I'm like this because you spoil me. Besides, who says a mother can't be cute in front of her son?" With such a beautiful woman in my arms, how could I not be tempted? I felt my whole body heat up, my heart race, and my penis was hard as iron, ready to burst forth. My mother clearly sensed the change in my body. She tried to break free, but I held her even tighter. She didn't struggle anymore, but quietly said, "You like your mother very much, and your mother has known that for a long time. Actually, your mother likes you very much too. However, your mother also loves your father very much, and your mother doesn't want to do anything to betray your father. So we can't go too far, we need to have some sense of boundaries, do you understand me?" I understood, of course I understood. Her words had three layers of meaning: First, my mother already loved me very much, the kind of love a woman has for a man. Second, she didn't want to betray my father. Thirdly, she didn't mention the word "incest," indicating she didn't care much about the taboo of incest; she simply didn't want to hurt Dad. There was another point I wasn't sure about: could we love each other without sex? Understanding this, I admired the woman in my arms even more. Her thinking was so open, her behavior so unconventional—she was so special. Thinking of Dad, my desire vanished instantly. I knew that although my parents were separated for long periods, their reunions were few and far between, but they loved each other dearly. Dad's care for me was meticulous, so when Mom mentioned Dad, I felt incredibly ashamed; I had no reason to take away what Dad loved. But I didn't want to let go of this woman who had almost consumed my entire life's emotions; my heart was filled with conflict… We hugged tightly like that for a long, long time. Mom giggled, breaking the silence, and said, "We're like a couple…" "A couple? A couple of what?" I asked quickly. She said playfully, "You know, we understand each other perfectly well." She looked at me slyly, then slowly added, "I'm so happy today, how about you?" I smiled knowingly. She looked up, and I saw a captivating allure on her face, her eyes radiating tenderness. My heart was swooning. We no longer avoided each other's eyes; our gazes finally met, our faces slowly drawing closer. My mother gently closed her eyes. I rushed to kiss her face passionately, until she cried out in surprise. She pulled away forcefully, saying, "It's not like that, come… I'll teach you." With that, she pulled me to the living room, had me sit on the sofa, and then sat on my lap. She parted her lips slightly and slowly pressed her cheek against mine, gently kissing my earlobe, eyes, and nose. I felt like I was flying… Finally, her lips met mine. She sucked on my upper and lower lip, then slipped her tongue into my mouth, slowly exploring it. As the passionate kiss continued, I found myself lying on the sofa, with my mother on top of me. I cautiously opened my eyes and saw that her hair was completely disheveled. Her eyes were tightly closed, her delicate eyelashes curled into a single line, and she was lost in the midst of our tongues intertwining… I had never seen my mother so wanton before. How could I, inexperienced in such matters, withstand such intense stimulation? Suddenly, I felt a tingling sensation in my lower back, and a gush of hot semen spurted out. My mother quickly got up, looked at my embarrassing state, and couldn't help but giggle, a triumphant expression on her face. I felt so humiliated… Not long after, my mother retired early from the Yue Opera troupe, because a completely new lifestyle awaited her. The day after her retirement, she went to my school, and from then on, I became a "celebrity" in the whole school. I saw her at the cafeteria entrance that noon. She dressed herself up exceptionally youthfully and beautifully, looking like a vibrant young girl. She had dyed her hair brownish-yellow and styled it into two small bells, but her makeup was very light. She wore a white cotton tank top, blue denim shorts, and white sneakers. She wore no jewelry, only casually pinning sunglasses between her high, firm breasts. Her outfit seemed effortless, but I knew it was carefully chosen, thoughtfully executed. She had clearly masterfully accentuated all her physical advantages: shapely arms and long legs, a high bust and slender waist, fair and healthy skin, a delicate and exquisite figure, and her impeccable beauty. Looking at this forty-year-old woman before me, I couldn't help but sigh. Forty years old for most people means wrinkles, freckles, sagging breasts, weight gain, and the gradual onset of aging. But none of this applied to my mother. Heaven had been too kind to her, as if unwilling to etch the mark of "age" upon her. I approached her and said softly, "My dear mom, my sweet mom, what are you doing here?" She pouted and said sweetly, "I missed you." Ever since that day, she had always spoken to me in that tone. It was the busiest time in the cafeteria, and we, especially her, suddenly became the focus of attention among the students. I felt a little uneasy, but she didn't care at all. She continued, "It's the weekend, I've come to take you home." She looked around, then stood on tiptoe and whispered in my ear, "You're not allowed to call me mom here." I looked at her clothes and understood her situation, so I took the opportunity to blackmail her: "Okay, I'll call you Shan-meimei, you have to call me Cong-gege, otherwise..." I pretended to shout "Mom!" She panicked, as if she was going to do anything, and said loudly, "Cong-gege, let's go eat!" Saying that, she grabbed my hand and ran into the cafeteria. In the days that followed, we were like a couple deeply in love, immersed in an ocean of love. My mother seemed reborn; she forgot her age and identity, often acting like a young girl experiencing love for the first time. She frequently exclaimed, "The taste of love is so wonderful!" Of course, we also faced many helpless and awkward moments. "Brake" was the word we inevitably uttered at the height of our passion. Initially, she was the one who said "brake," but later it was often me. Every time I forcefully pulled the brakes, I would find her looking aggrieved and unwilling. Before I knew it, I had graduated and spent more time at home. Facing my amorous mother every day, my psychological defenses became increasingly fragile. By this time, my mother was completely infatuated. She not only seduced me with her beautiful body but also became increasingly audacious and bold in her words. She called me "husband, husband" incessantly, her body seemingly ablaze with desire. Those days, I was exhausted from dealing with my mother's endless entanglement, exhausted from dealing with the ever-present burning desire within myself, exhausted from the battle between desire and conscience. I felt so tired, and my mood was terrible. I was twenty-three.On my birthday, I received a call from my dad early in the morning wishing me a happy birthday. Then, a gift arrived by courier—a laptop. I was overjoyed and immediately started fiddling with my new computer. After what seemed like an eternity, a warm, fragrant body suddenly sat in my lap. She wrapped her arms around my neck and began to kiss me. Since my computer chair couldn't support two people, I lifted her up and placed her on my bed. Only then did I realize that my mother was dressed unusually seductively. She wore heavy makeup, and, more shockingly, she was only wearing a thin, gossamer-thin nightgown. I could clearly see that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. I stared at her, my whole body burning with desire, my manhood throbbing. She looked at me with seductive eyes and said sweetly, "Darling, happy birthday. Today, Mom gives you her whole heart and her whole being. I know you've always wanted it, so consider this your birthday present." With that, she slowly closed her eyes. My heart surged with emotion. I pounced on her, showering her with passionate kisses… Just then, the song "Happy Birthday" suddenly blared. I realized it was the birthday card Dad had tucked inside the computer case. I'd carelessly tossed it onto the bed, and my mother and I'd made it ring out during our frenzy. "No!" I snapped back to reality, scrambling to my feet and bursting out the door. I heard my mother's angry shouts beside me, "You're a coward! You're a hypocrite…" My mind went blank. I wandered aimlessly through the streets like a lost soul, not knowing how long I'd walked. It was already dark, and the streets were thinning out. Suddenly, a cold droplet landed on my nose. Then I saw a torrential downpour begin, the cold raindrops hitting my skin. I felt incredibly refreshed, and my mind began to clear. I let the rain soak me, but my thoughts kept replaying what had just happened. I know I've successfully prevented incest from happening, and I no longer feel that pang of conscience towards my father. But I can't feel happy at all. I know that the most precious thing in my life is about to be lost, that two-year-long, unforgettable "mother-son love" is about to end. I don't know how to face the woman I love so deeply. At this moment, her stunning beauty, her every smile, her shyness, her playfulness, her tenderness—everything about her is flashing through my mind. Can I break up with her? Can I live without her? How will I get through the days without her? I ask myself these questions over and over again, tears streaming down my face. The rain and tears mingled, sending chills down my spine. "You're a coward, you're a hypocrite..." These words seemed to echo in my mind again. I suddenly realized that my once pure and innocent mother had been led to this state step by step by me. "Today I give you my whole heart and my whole being. I know you've always wanted it..." She said this to the person she loved, these were her heartfelt words, how much courage it took! Thinking of this, I suddenly shuddered, my heart aching, followed by a violent cough. Only then did I truly see myself clearly. I was the most despicable, shameless, selfish, hypocritical, and cowardly man in the world. I ran home desperately, to beg her forgiveness, to salvage this love. When I got home, I felt dizzy. I knelt before her: "Shanshan, you must forgive me. I will treat you well from now on, I..." Before I could finish my sentence, suddenly, a sweet taste rose in my throat, and a mouthful of blood gushed out. I heard my mother scream, and then I knew nothing more. When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital, on an IV drip and receiving oxygen. I knew my old ailment—pneumonia—had flared up again. I felt weak all over, as if I were about to collapse. "Dad!" I called out, realizing my father was dozing on my bed. He immediately stood up, staring at me excitedly. "Son, you're awake! You're finally awake!" he cried, running towards the door. "Doctor! Doctor, come quick! My son's awake!" I had never seen my father so excited; his concern and anxiety were palpable. After examining me, the doctor told him I was out of danger and could be discharged after a few days of observation. After the doctor left, my father sat down by my bedside, placing his warm hand on my forehead. "Are you feeling better?" I looked at him and noticed more gray hairs, a hint of weariness in his eyes, and his anxiety and unease were undeniable. Had something happened? A sense of foreboding crept into my heart. "Where's Mom?" Mom wasn't beside me. "Did something happen to her?" I asked anxiously. Dad said, "No, she's been exhausted these past few days. She just went home to rest today. She's never been this tired in all these years." Then Dad smiled and said to me jokingly, "Why are you only concerned about Mom? Do you know your old man hasn't slept a wink for three days?" I blushed and quickly said, "Dad, you'll always be a hero in my heart. What storms haven't you weathered? And Mom..." Before I could finish, Dad burst out laughing and said, "Is Mom a little girl who'll never grow up in your heart?""A girl?" I was stunned. This was a phrase my father often wrote in his diary. Could it be…? Before I could think further, my father continued, "Sigh, it's all my fault. I've only been busy with work and haven't even tried to find a way to cure your pneumonia, leaving you unconscious for three whole days… It's my fault, I'm so sorry. I thought…" He choked up, tears welling in his eyes. Was this my father? Was this the same tough, unyielding man? I suddenly realized my illness must be serious, otherwise why would my father, who never sheds a tear, be like this? So I cautiously asked, "Dad, is my illness very serious?" My father quickly replied, "No, no, don't think like that…" I already understood, but I didn't ask him again. The next day, my mother came to my ward early in the morning. She laughed and cried intermittently, but after understanding my situation, she finally calmed down. She told my father to go home and rest, and she would stay with me. After my father left, I immediately started talking to my mother, trying to get information about my condition from her. "Shanshan, please forgive me? I was really conflicted back then... Then a heavy rainstorm made me realize that I can't live without you because I love you so much. I really don't know how I would live without you..." I cried, my true feelings overflowing. My mother panicked and rushed to my bedside, saying, "I've already forgiven you. That day, even when you were unconscious, you kept calling out my name, making everyone in the hospital think we were a couple..." As she spoke, her face turned red, and then she added timidly, "Two nurses were so envious of me, telling me that there are so few good men like you who are so devoted these days." Seeing her incredibly shy appearance, my heart melted, so I teased her, "You must have done something unusual for people to think we were a couple, right?" She immediately jumped up, covered her face with her hands, turned around, and said sweetly, "I'm ignoring you. I just called you 'Brother An' a few times, and told you not to scare me, okay?" Seeing her like this, I couldn't help but laugh, so I said, "Didn't you call me 'good husband'?" She turned around again, raised her little fist to hit me, but when she saw the IV needle in my head, she pounced on me, saying, "I'll bite you, see if you dare to bully me again," and then opened her little mouth to gently bite my cheek. Then she began to kiss me. Her kisses were so gentle, so careful, her expression so solemn, so earnest, as if she wanted to kiss out all the love in her heart… A hot tear fell onto my face. Mom was crying, crying so sadly, so desperately. From her cries, I seemed to sense something, and combined with Dad's expression last night, I understood. I knew this illness was very, very serious. Was my life about to end? The thought filled me with fear and anxiety, but seeing Mom's tearful face, I couldn't bear to ask her anything. I knew that she and Dad had been suffering because of my illness these past few days, and their feelings weren't much better than mine. So I started to cheer her up, finally making her laugh, and then I coaxed her to go home. I lay alone in the private hospital room, letting my thoughts wander. I thought about so many things. I worried about Dad; he was over fifty and still so busy… I worried even more about Mom. If she left me, would she still be happy? I still have a little regret, which is that my mother and I ultimately couldn't overcome that hurdle. But I'm content; isn't leaving a little regret in my heart also a kind of beauty? My heart gradually calmed down, and I fell asleep without realizing it. When I woke up, I found that my father had been there for quite some time. After dinner, I felt much better. I got out of bed by myself, moved around a bit, and then told my father that we should just be discharged tomorrow. I just said it casually, but to my surprise, my father readily agreed. That day, my father was very talkative, chatting with me about everything under the sun. He talked about his struggles, his grand goals, his company, and without realizing it, he started talking about his family and my mother. He told me many interesting stories about my mother, as if he was telling me what a pure and lovely woman she was. I didn't know why my dad was telling me all this. Then he continued, "She's not only incredibly naive, have you noticed? She looks like a twenty-year-old girl, without a single sign of aging. She's a miracle in herself; it's said that only one in tens of millions of people can be found like that..." Hearing my dad say this, I suddenly understood. I remember before graduation, I was in great pain, trying to get rid of this "mother complex." I read many psychology books, and they all said that this kind of mother complex would gradually fade and disappear with age. But for me, this feeling only grew stronger with age. At the time, I couldn't understand it at all, until now I fully understand: my mother is an ageless woman; her age has stopped at twenty. So, as I grow older, my age gets closer and closer to hers. We spend so much time together, and we become more and more attracted to each other, and before we knew it, a spark of love ignited between us. I'd read reports about "ageless women" and had been in close contact with one many times, experiencing her smooth and supple skin firsthand. I never imagined my mother was one of those enviable, ageless women… – As Dad spoke, his expression grew serious. He lit a cigarette and said quietly, "Today, your mother and I are divorced!" I was shocked. "Dad, how could you do this? You…" My voice was filled with resentment. But Dad waved his hand, stopping me from continuing. He said, word by word, "I had no choice, because of you! Because you loved her so much, to the point of obsession, so I'm giving her to you!" Hearing this, I trembled all over, wondering how Dad knew? Had Mom leaked the secret? I coughed loudly in my anxiety. Dad quickly supported me, his tone softening. "Don't be like that, don't be like that," he said. "I was a little harsh just now, but I didn't mean to blame you. I found your diary by your pillow a few days ago, and after reading it, I've been feeling really stifled." A diary? The moment Dad mentioned the diaries, my mind raced. I have two secret diaries, one written before I went to university, filled with my unrequited love for Mom, and the other written after I started university, detailing the entire process of our love and relationship. I remember hiding the second diary in a very secret place, one that no one else would ever find. That way, Dad would definitely see the first one. Thinking about this made me feel a little better, but I also clearly remembered that the first one was with Mom. I even remembered that after Mom "confiscated" that diary, she slowly became gentler with me, slowly started treating me like a man… So how did this diary end up next to me? It must be Mom, but why would she do that? Dad continued, "It's not entirely your fault. There are many reasons. These past few days, I've been thinking, if I were in your shoes, a hot-blooded young man, facing a stunningly beautiful woman every day, wouldn't I also have inappropriate thoughts? Even if she were my mother, what would happen? So I bear an undeniable responsibility. I haven't cared for you enough, both emotionally and physically." He paused, looked at me, and then said, "You're very smart. You must have guessed seven or eight parts of your illness, right?" I nodded and said, "How much longer do I have to live?" Dad sighed deeply and said, "Aren't you afraid?" I said firmly, "I'm scared! But I want to face it. I don't want to hide, because I'm Yang Dacheng's son!" Dad laughed heartily, "That's right, that's right, Yang Dacheng's son should be like this!" Then he said solemnly, "You have lung cancer this time, and it's in its late stage. Without a miracle, you have at most a year left. But I believe in you, you can definitely create a miracle. Mom and Dad will support you with all our might, because I've never believed in fate, fate can be changed!" Dad, as expected of the CEO of a big company, made me feel excited and full of confidence with just a few words. So I said, "I will definitely not let Dad down. Dad, if you have any good ideas, just tell me, I will definitely follow your arrangements." "!" Dad paced back and forth in the ward, then said firmly, "I've asked many famous doctors, both domestic and foreign. They said there are precedents of recovery for this disease. They also said that treating this disease requires not only good medicine, but also that the patient must maintain a happy mood. I'll find the good medicine and the good doctors, but you and your mother have to create that happy mood. So the first step is for me to marry your mother, the woman you've secretly loved for so many years, so you can live happily ever after..." "No!" I interrupted Dad, because this was too sudden for me. I wasn't prepared for this, and it was also too unfair to Dad. I couldn't bear to do it. Unexpectedly, her father roared in anger, "How can you react like this to my very first arrangement?" "I... I can't be so selfish. I can't build my happiness on your suffering. Besides, she and I are ultimately mother and son. Although I love her very much, I've never considered marrying her. Your arrangement is not only morally and ethically wrong, but how can my mother and I accept it or feel at ease? There's no way we can be happy." Her father sighed again and said, "Why don't you...""Can you understand my pain? Actually, your mother and I have already discussed it. She doesn't care that you're her biological son! I can clearly see that her love for you far exceeds the love a mother has for her son! Do you think that if you die, you'll be the one who suffers the most? No! She'll be the one who suffers the most! If you die, she will definitely die for you! She told me this herself. My heart is really aching. You are all the people I love most. I don't want either of you to leave before me. You will never understand the sorrow of losing a child in old age..." I was moved to tears by what he said. I cried and said, "Dad, please don't say anymore. I'll think about it..." Dad walked to the window, opened it, looked up at the sky, and remained silent for a long time. I knew that making this decision must have been extremely painful for him. This decision was perhaps the most difficult and helpless one he had ever made in his life. I also understood that he wasn't sure about my illness, and another purpose of his actions was to fulfill my last wish through his sacrifice. ... I was discharged from the hospital two days later, and Dad returned to Shenzhen. There were still many things waiting for him to handle. After Dad left, it was just Mom and me at home. Since we both knew that our relationship wasn't just mother and son, but soon also husband and wife, we needed to adjust our mindsets and roles. Mom became even more like a gentle wife, taking meticulous care of me. Within a few days, I felt completely refreshed, as if my body had returned to its best condition. That evening, we returned from a walk, and I was in an exceptionally good mood. I exclaimed, "Oh dear, walking with you, aren't we getting way too many stares? Don't you feel awkward? Shouldn't we stop wearing matching outfits when we go out?" Mom chuckled, "Yeah, we can't wear matching outfits anymore. Didn't you see the way people were looking at us? They were clearly saying, 'Wow, such a beautiful flower shouldn't be stuck with...—'" "Fine, you dare call me cow dung!" I said, chasing after her. She laughed and quickly retreated into the bedroom. I grabbed her and started tickling her without any restraint. She giggled. I forced her to the bedside, and we both fell onto it. I pressed down on her and kissed her passionately. Mom's body visibly warmed up. She wrapped her arms around my head and her tongue entered my mouth. Our tongues intertwined, and my hands began to roam over Mom's body. I wrapped my left arm around my mother's slender waist, and slipped my right hand inside her t-shirt, kneading her full, firm breasts. Then I ripped off her bra and pulled off her clothes, revealing two snow-white, round breasts. I gently suckled her nipples; it was a familiar feeling, as if I had returned to infancy, feeling an immense sense of satisfaction. My mother began to react to my actions. She tilted her head back, placed her hands on my back, closed her eyes, and let out soft moans. My hands moved to her waist, and with her cooperation, I easily pulled off her skirt and underwear. Now my mother was completely naked in front of me. Perhaps instinctively, she quickly covered her genitals with her hands, and I saw a shy expression on her face. I stopped what I was doing and fully admired this body that I had longed for for so long. I thought, soon she would be completely mine. "I never thought your body would be more alluring than your face!" I said, and with lightning speed, I stripped off my own clothes and pounced on her. I removed her hand from her tender vulva, and after a moment's hesitation, she finally let go. I immediately saw my mother's thick, curly pubic hair scattered haphazardly across her secret place, the contrast between her snow-white skin and the glossy black hair striking. I parted her legs, and with trembling hands, I pried open her pink labia, only to find them already overflowing with vaginal fluid. I couldn't hold back any longer. I aimed my glans at the entrance of my mother's paradise and thrust in forcefully. My penis immediately felt a tight, enveloping sensation, and my mother cried out, "Oh…!" My penis slowly moved in and out of her body, each thrust bringing a tingling sensation from the soft, downy walls rubbing against my glans. My mother's lips were half-open, her eyes half-closed, looking at me languidly and weakly. That expression, a mixture of pain and itch, made me speed up my thrusts. After a while, she simply closed her eyes to avoid my burning gaze. But I grew more and more vigorous, placing her beautiful legs on my shoulders and thrusting harder, relentlessly pounding into my mother's clitoris. My mother felt a tingling sensation all over her body from being penetrated. She gripped the sheets tightly with both hands, and her fair, plump buttocks kept twisting and swaying upwards to cooperate with me. "Oh...oh..." Mom started moaning and crying out. "An'an...you're so good...oh...I'm going crazy..." I worked even harder, thrusting in and out more vigorously, rotating my hips so that my big glans would grind against the tender flesh of her clitoris in her wet pussy, fucking Mom until she was panting and sweating profusely. "Ah!...I can't take it anymore...Mom really can't take it anymore...oh...good husband...your big cock...it's crushing my clitoris...I'm going to die..." I was extremely proud. I hadn't expected to fuck Mom to the point of ecstasy. So I went all out and thrust in twenty or thirty more times. I heard Mom cry out incessantly, "Oh...you hit my clitoris again...An—you're fucking Mom to death...ah...I'm going to come...ah!...I'm coming..." With a loud cry, Mom's body trembled and went limp. I knew that Mom had submitted to me. After her orgasm, Mom lay motionless on the bed, fully enjoying the lingering pleasure and ecstasy within her. I gazed at the beauty beside me: her flushed face was streaked with loose hair, her naked body glistened with sweat, and her alluring vulva was slowly flowing with lustful fluid… I lovingly embraced her, gently stroking her face and hair. Then we lay down naked together, her head resting on my arm like a docile lamb, while one small hand intentionally or unintentionally played with my nipple. We said nothing, simply savoring this sweetness and warmth. Slowly, her hand began to move downwards, caressing my penis. Then she said, “It’s so powerful, so big, I love you so much!” I laughed heartily and said, “Do you love it more or me more?” “Both!” she said without hesitation. I laughed and said, "Who was it that was driving you crazy just now, saying they were going crazy one minute and dying the next?" She yelled like a child, "I want revenge!" With that, she flipped over and climbed on top of me, shoving my penis into her vagina. With a forceful thrust, it was completely inside her. I mimicked her yelling, "Strong!""You're so cunning!" She giggled and said, "Good! Watch how amazing this young lady is!" I pretended to look gloomy, but inside I was overjoyed. I thought to myself, I haven't even ejaculated yet! My mother slowly moved on top of me, then bent down to kiss my cheeks, earlobes, and neck before stopping at my chest. She opened her mouth and licked my nipples with her soft tongue. I immediately felt an electric shock-like tingling sensation throughout my body. Coupled with the rhythmic, unhurried movements of her hips, I felt as if I were floating on clouds. "So good, Shanshan, you're really good... ah..." I couldn't help but start moaning. Perhaps infected by me, my mother gradually became excited as well. Her movements obviously quickened, her head leaving my chest, moving up and down wantonly like riding a horse. I saw her eyes were languid, her tongue licking her lips, her large breasts swaying with the rhythm of her movements, and her mouth occasionally uttering lewd moans. When had I ever seen my mother so lewd? I was overjoyed. So, I straightened my back, raised my hips, and thrust upwards towards her clitoris to match her movements. Each time my glans collided with her clitoris, she let out a soul-stirring moan. Before long, my mother climaxed again, collapsing onto me, panting heavily, and constantly murmuring, "So good, Mom is so impressed... Shanshan wants to marry you, my little husband..." This time, I didn't let her off easily. Instead, I rolled over with her, pinning her beneath me, and thrust into her again, fucking her until she cried out, "Good husband... good son... let Mom go... Mom is dying... Oh, it feels so good... Don't stop... Strange, I'm coming again... Oh..." By this time, I was at the peak of excitement. I concentrated all my strength on one point and thrust a dozen more times. "Ah!" We both reached orgasm at the same time. That night, I couldn't believe how vigorous I was, fucking my mother until she came three times. From that night on, my mother underwent a complete transformation; she was utterly captivated by me. She became more gentle and virtuous. She would proactively do housework, cook my favorite dishes every day in different ways, and dress herself up beautifully every day. In her spare time, she would snuggle up beside me and sing me songs or perform a few excerpts from Yue Opera. Sometimes I would ask her to massage my back, scratch my itch, or give me a massage. Everything seemed to have turned around. You see, I used to often try to please her like this. Of course, sometimes she would also act coquettishly and throw a little tantrum to win my affection. One day, my mother timidly told me that she was pregnant. I was shocked. I scolded her, blaming her for not taking proper contraception and telling her to abort the child. She threw herself on me and cried, saying, "How could you be so heartless? He's the fruit of our love, he's a member of the Yang family. Besides, your father has already prepared new identification and files for me. Why won't you go and get a proper marriage certificate with me? Don't you love me anymore now that you have me? Do you still want to…?" "No! I love you very much, you know that, it's just…" So I poured out my worries and concerns. I was even more worried about the child in her womb. First, my life was uncertain, and second, it was the product of incest. I was afraid… After hearing what I said, my mother calmed down. She thought for a moment and said, "I've always believed you could get through this! Besides, I can't hold anyone else in my heart except you, including your father. I will never go back to him. If you really leave me, do you think I could live? As for the baby, I want to wait a few more months. Then we can find out if it's healthy or not. I owe your father so much. I want to give birth to the baby, so that the Yang family can have a bloodline. Son, husband, you'll have someone to carry on the family line, right? So, for me, for the baby, and for your father, you must be strong and live on!" After hearing her heartfelt words, what else could I say? Soon after, Dad came back. He told us to leave Shanghai for Japan. He said that we could start over there. He had already contacted doctors and hospitals there. After all, we are still family, and he had thought of everything for us. Of course, it was still very awkward when the three of us met that day, especially when Dad found out that my mother was pregnant. His expression was so complicated. But he still generously blessed us and told us to take care of each other in a foreign country. After nearly six months of treatment, I miraculously recovered! Soon after, we changed our names in Japan, obtained a marriage certificate, and my mother, Shanshan, gave birth to a boy. The child is perfectly healthy. We left Japan, not returning to Shanghai, but settling down in Zhuhai. From then on, the three of us lived a warm and sweet life.

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Shanghai husbands are truly admirable; they let their son marry their mother.

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