The Secret of the Stepmother's Abnormal Sexual Desire

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On a late afternoon in the suburbs, in a detached house, a woman sat at the piano playing the Brandenburg Concerto. The melodious music revealed a unique flavor; the normally exuberant piece had a somewhat melancholic tone. The woman playing the piano was a very famous pianist, widely acclaimed both domestically and internationally, specializing in Bach's works. It was precisely because of this uniquely melancholic tone that she held a distinctive position in the piano world. This woman was my stepmother, named Du Yunshi, thirty-eight years old this year. She had a slender figure and an elegant demeanor. Five years ago, my mother left home, and my father married her last year. At the beginning of this year, we moved into this new mansion together. My father is a painter, specializing in portraiture, and is quite famous in the industry, often invited to tour overseas. He is rarely at home, which is why he wanted me to come back and live with us; otherwise, it would be quite dangerous to leave this beautiful wife alone all the time. I'm 22 years old, a senior in college. I used to live alone in a rented apartment nearby because it's close to my university. Earlier this year, my father bought a two-story house here so I could live with them. It's over 100 square meters, but only my stepmother and I live there. My dad is on a European exhibition tour and is expected to be back in a month, while I'm on summer vacation. This afternoon, I was lying in my room, listening to music, and chatting casually with a few online friends. Downstairs, I heard the melodious sound of a piano. I knew my stepmother was practicing again; I remember she said she was invited to a commercial performance for a company at the end of the month. Of course, I've fantasized a bit. Someone my stepmother is my age, with a mature and alluring figure, large breasts, a slender waist, and an unparalleled charm—if we went out together, people would just think I was with a young, stylish, and sexy woman. I'm sure my dad was able to marry such a beautiful wife because they were attracted to each other's talents, and they were a perfect match in terms of looks and talent. My restless heart led me to tiptoe downstairs. I hid in the corridor between the first and second floors and looked down, just in time to see my stepmother playing the piano with her back to me. She was wearing a white, sheer dress; the material was quite transparent, and I could see her black lingerie through her back. Her long, slender legs were encased in light gray stockings, exuding both sexiness and elegance. My stepmother liked to wear ballet shoes at home, and her entire outfit made her look like a ballet dancer. I could see her fair neck, exposed by her hair up, very sexy, with a slight sheen of sweat reflecting the light. "Is it that hot?" I wondered to myself. Although it was summer, the air conditioning in the room was set to a cool, comfortable 20 degrees Celsius. "It's probably because she's so focused on practicing," I thought to myself. I secretly watched her for about 15 minutes before she finally stopped practicing. I noticed her shoulders seemed to be trembling slightly, and her neck looked even redder. Although I couldn't see her face directly, I could sense that her face was also flushed, as if she had been drinking. "Is this really strange? Does practicing the piano work like dancing, causing you to sweat from getting so absorbed in it?" Just then, I saw my stepmother suddenly gasp and slump forward onto the piano. This startled me, and forgetting I was just peeking, I rushed downstairs. "Stepmother! Stepmother! Are you alright?" I quickly supported her shoulders. My stepmother looked up at me, and I noticed her eyes were unfocused. But her attire also surprised me. Although her breasts were hidden under a sexy black bra, they were almost completely transparent due to the sweat, and I could see right through them. She then looked panicked. "Xiao Kai, I'm fine. I'm just tired from practicing and resting for a bit," she said, quickly standing up and turning to go upstairs. I was left with many questions. What happened to my stepmother? Her eyes? Her flushed face? I followed her. My stepmother had already gone back to their room. I tiptoed to the door, gently pressing my ear against it to listen to what was happening inside. The sound I heard shocked me... It was a woman's moaning. Based on my experience watching porn, I could tell it was deep breathing and soft groans. I found it hard to believe that a beautiful woman like my stepmother would be masturbating in her room! And after playing the piano? Reaching orgasm while playing the piano was truly unbelievable to me. Peeping into someone's private affairs filled me with both excitement and guilt, especially since this was the woman I had been longing for. The contrast between her sexy aura and such lewd behavior, coupled with her special status, amplified my pleasure. I didn't have the courage to rush into the room. The uncertainty of the consequences barely kept my rationality in check. I went into my own room and quickly dealt with it, ejaculating a thick stream of semen to temporarily calm my aroused head. About two hours later, I came downstairs. My stepmother was already in the kitchen cooking. She heard me walking down the stairs and said, "Xiao Kai, I'm making dinner. Let's eat together later!" But my heart was still pounding because of what had just happened. So I told her, "Stepmother, I'm having dinner with friends in Taipei today. I'll be staying at my friend's house in Taipei tonight and will come back tomorrow." "Oh!""Okay, be careful!" my stepmother said. "You said you're going to Taipei, could you go to our old house and get me a pair of shoes? I need them for this weekend." The old house was where she and my father lived before we moved here; it was a luxury apartment in Taipei. After they moved, they bought most of their belongings, so a lot of things weren't moved. "Sure, give me the key and tell me where the shoes are, I'll go get them for you," I replied. After giving me the key and showing me the location and appearance of the shoes, I drove off in my BMW. Actually, I wasn't really going to see any friends; I was just worried about the awkward atmosphere and the inability to suppress my desires, so I just wanted an excuse to get some fresh air. So after getting on the highway, I drove straight to their old house. I call it their old house because I've never actually lived there. Ever since my mom left home, I've been living on my own. My dad gives me enough living expenses so I can rent a nice apartment and I'm happy not to go back and live a restrictive life with them. Even when I do meet my dad, we usually meet at a restaurant. After driving for about an hour and a half, I arrived at the building entrance. After exchanging a few pleasantries with the security guard, I went up to the 28th floor, the top floor of the building. I opened the door and stepped inside. The decor was eye-opening. Perhaps it's my dad's artistic nature, but the walls were covered with medieval murals, very classical, and combined with the furniture, it created a European atmosphere. The entire house was about 80 square meters. Besides the basic living room, kitchen, and bathroom, there were only two rooms: their master bedroom and a dressing room. I quickly found the shoes in the shoe cabinet my stepmother had described in the dressing room. I glanced at the cabinet; it was full of short-heeled or flat-soled casual shoes, nothing like the pretty high heels I had expected. I randomly opened a few wardrobe doors; they were all filled with conservative dresses, seemingly my stepmother's performance outfits. Another wardrobe was full of loungewear. After completing my task, I walked out, closed the dressing room door, and was about to leave when a thought suddenly crossed my mind: "I wonder what his master bedroom looks like?" I walked over, grabbed the key, and turned it—it was locked. "Looks like I'll have to give up!" Suddenly, I remembered that among the keys my stepmother had given me, besides the one for the front door, there seemed to be another one. I quickly pulled it out of my pocket, found the other key, inserted it into the lock, and turned it. "Open!" The lock opened!! My heart pounded again; this feeling of seemingly spying on someone's secret made me both nervous and excited. "Ah!" (2) After opening the door, since there was no light, I immediately found the light switch by the door and turned it on. Under the magnificent crystal chandelier, the first thing that caught my eye was the classic and huge bed, the bright red wall above the bed and the photo hanging above the bed. It was a black and white photo about 50 inches in size. There was only one protagonist lying naked on the bed. The angle of the photo was from the feet to the upper body, and the focus was on the red high heels on the feet. Compared with the black and white background, the red was obviously highlighted. Due to the focus, the face was not clear. I intuitively thought that the protagonist was my stepmother, because the huge breasts, slender waist and long legs were the characteristics of my stepmother's figure. I was even more sure of the mole next to the ankle, which I had seen on my stepmother's leg. I looked further into the room. The room was bigger than I had imagined. There were two small doors inside. One of them was open. I glanced at it and saw that it was a bathroom with a large jacuzzi inside.Another small door was closed. I walked over and turned the handle; it wasn't locked. I pushed it open and went inside. It was dark and not very spacious, with cabinets and drawers, resembling a dressing room. I turned on the light and went in, opening one of the low cabinets. My eyes fell upon a whole row of glamorous high heels, all kinds of styles and colors, each pair over 20 centimeters high. Many were designer styles, the kind of morbidly high heels—knee-high boots, ankle boots, over-the-knee boots, even SM patent leather styles. I could imagine my stepmother wearing these almost abusive high heels. Opening another drawer, I found all sorts of sexy underwear, a dazzling array of colors, provocatively designed. The next drawer contained stockings of various colors and patterns: garter stockings, semi-transparent ones, black, red, and blue fishnet stockings. I felt like I was seeing another side of my stepmother. I opened another drawer, inside which was a professional high-definition camcorder, a tripod, and two DVD boxes full of DVDs. I opened the bottom drawer as well, where I found a black notebook with a gold-embossed cover and two A4-sized kraft paper bags. I took the notebook out of the drawer, and I found my hands were trembling slightly. I opened to the first page, which read November 28, 2009. "This is a diary," I told myself. I recognized my stepmother's handwriting as the first line. "I must admit, I am a woman with an abnormal sex drive," an almost confessional sentence was written on the first line of my stepmother's diary. I continued reading… “Yesterday was my wedding day, and today is our first day of married life! But at yesterday's wedding, no one except him realized that I was such a wanton slut. I did my best to complete the tasks he assigned me. The moment I stepped into the hall, I wasn't wearing any underwear, and I had a vibrator and an anal plug inserted. Because of the background music, no one heard the vibrator vibrating. The white veil perfectly concealed my flushed cheeks. The stares of everyone gave me a small orgasm the moment we exchanged rings. I was so excited, so wild. I'm such a wanton woman!” But that wasn't enough to drive me crazy, because what I wanted to try far exceeded his expectations. There was also a secret he didn't know: I had a clitoral piercing, a thread attached to it, and a loop at the end. I threaded this thread through the heel of my 20cm heels, so every step I took pulled on my clitoris. This experience, unlike anything I'd ever tried before, brought me to another level of orgasm. While everyone anticipated my first dance with him, I struggled, worried I might damage my clitoris. Fortunately, my pain-and-sadism, besides giving me unprecedented orgasms while dancing, didn't damage my clitoris. The wedding ended in a dreamlike state. After seeing off the last guest, I probably collapsed in the dressing room, because no woman could withstand more than four hours of continuous orgasms. He was truly a responsible man, ensuring I got home safely, allowing me ample rest, and cleaning me up. He was still sleeping peacefully beside me, so innocent-looking, yet with such a wicked heart. It seems only this man could understand me so well! I can't wait for our crazy honeymoon to begin! I saw the last line of this page and could hardly believe my eyes. My stepmother was such a slut! My penis stood erect. I hesitated, wondering whether to continue reading or stop here. I had a whole night to spend here, so I closed the notebook and continued to see what was in this small room. I opened another cabinet, filled with all sorts of vests, cosplay costumes, SM outfits, handcuffs, leg irons, and various sizes of dildos, the thickest reaching an arm's length. I opened the last long cabinet, which looked like a bookshelf, filled with art books. I randomly pulled one out; the cover was made of high-quality leather, with the number "8" and the word "blbdk" printed on it. I opened the first page and was astonished to see... (3) I could tell this was my father's sketchbook because it was full of charcoal sketches of people, and I was familiar with the subject—my mother, who had left home a few years ago. But what surprised me was the appearance and expression of the person in the drawing… I saw that my mother was completely naked, bound, and suspended in mid-air, her arms tied behind her back. Her full breasts were bulging out from the pressure of the ropes, and her erect nipples were pierced with two nipple rings and dangled with two weights. Her nipples were severely deformed from being pulled. My mother's expression was a mixture of pain and pleasure, with saliva dripping from the corner of her half-open mouth and her eyes looking lifeless. I was amazed that my father could capture such a vivid image with black and white charcoal, and I knew that this was my mother's actual condition and appearance at the time. Because in the middle of this page, there was a photograph showing my mother's condition at the time she was being sketched. I turned to the second page. My mother's posture hadn't changed, except that a huge artificial phallus was inserted between her two vulvas, which were suspended high and wide open, and there was an identical photograph sandwiched between them. I randomly flipped through a few more pages, mostly depicting my mother bound, with various objects inserted into her vulva, such as a spiked dildo, a vibrator, a radish, a bitter melon, a wine bottle, and a flashlight. Her body was contorted into various unnatural shapes, and the ropes binding her highlighted her various sensual parts. The entire book, about 30 pages long, was depicted in the same setting. Even though I was in an air-conditioned room, my face was burning hot. I put the book back on the shelf. I randomly pulled out a few more books, all depicting my mother in bondage, each one very sensual and accompanied by a photograph, only the binding methods had changed—some emphasized her breasts, others used a turtle-shell binding style. This made me realize that my parents' perverse fetishes and research in this area were quite profound. Each of these art books has the same cover, only different numbers. I counted, and there are 15 books in this series. I glanced down at the bottom of the bookshelf; there was a shelf with about twenty art books, all with yellow covers, seemingly from another series. I picked up the first one and opened it. [The main text then abruptly shifts to a seemingly unrelated link:

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The Secret of the Stepmother's Abnormal Sexual Desire

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