A mother's love that is filled with both sexual and romantic love

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

My parents married young, and I was born when my mother was 18. Because my mother was still studying, I was raised by my maternal grandmother until she passed away, after which I returned to my parents' home.

My father was a moderately successful businessman. After becoming wealthy, he began a life of extravagance, only providing financial support to my mother and me, and neglecting everything else. Their love was effectively over after my mother discovered his affair.

My mother knew he was seeing many women and often used social engagements as an excuse to stay out all night. She initially planned to divorce him, but for my sake, she didn't take that step. My

mother is a doctor, 175cm tall, with a face that, while not stunning, is pleasing to the eye. This makes her very popular with men; many men would glance at her on the street, and many would try to chat her up. However, my mother has a strange personality; she never speaks to those who approach her, and she is very conservative, even avoiding wearing slightly short skirts.

Although my mother tried her best to maintain the marriage for my sake, she became a "widow" living alone, having not had sex with my father for a long time.

My mother is 39 years old this year, an age when women are at their most vigorous and need a man's care and love. But my father abandoned her, leaving her alone to keep company with loneliness.
I have witnessed my mother's suffering. Therefore, the meticulous care my mother has given me over the years has transformed into something else in my heart—love. After repeated contemplation and reflection, I realized that this is not familial affection, but a passionate infatuation.

Since this strange feeling arose in my heart, I have tried my best to restrain myself and not express it. But the more my mother cares for me, the deeper my infatuation becomes.

Later, on Valentine's Day, I expressed this love because I simply could not suppress it.
That night, my mother said she wanted me to have a drink with her. After a few drinks, slightly tipsy, I suddenly knelt down, hugged her legs, and said in a daze, "Mom, I love you! Although I know there shouldn't be this kind of feeling between a mother and son, every time you care about me, I feel a strange sensation running through my heart. After so many years, I've realized that it's love. I really love you so much, I dream of you being my lover every day! Why do you have to live this kind of life with that scoundrel? Be with me, I will love you forever..."

My mother was stunned at first, then blushed and hurriedly tried to make me let go. With a forceful push, she pushed me away, and in a daze, I thought I saw a tear glisten in the corner of her eye.

When I stood up, my mother pointed at me and said weakly but seriously, "We are mother and son, love cannot exist between us. This time, I'll take it as drunken nonsense and not hold it against you."
With that, my mother went to her room.

I cried out hastily and helplessly, "Why? You're a woman, I'm a man, how can we not have love between us? I truly love you!"

Before I could finish, my mother's bedroom door slammed shut. It was locked, and I couldn't open it. I had no choice but to end this unusual "confession."

That night, I couldn't sleep. I thought about many things, even considering giving up, but I couldn't let go.
Since that night, out of caution about what happened, my mother always locked herself in bed or when she went to the bathroom. All the intimate gestures we used to make were gone, and she always had a cold face towards me. Every time I saw her coming and going without saying a word, I regretted my actions that night…

But then that day—that incident—gave me hope.

That night, very late, I was studying in my room when I suddenly heard the sound of clothes being put on outside, followed by the sound of a door closing.

I opened my bedroom door, puzzled, only to find that my mother, who had been home, was gone. I instinctively ran to the window and looked around.

Suddenly, I saw a man downstairs embracing my mother, but she seemed to be trying hard to push him away, muttering, "No, no, let go! It really can't be today, my son is still upstairs, I have to hurry back! Let go, it won't be good if he sees! Let go, let's do it another day." After that, the man released my mother, and she went into the building entrance.

I quickly ran back into the house, closed the door, and acted as if nothing had happened. But my heart was pounding, so nervous that I couldn't tell if it was shock or something else.

The next morning, my mother was preparing breakfast, still ignoring me.

I couldn't hold back any longer and asked in a low voice, "Who was that man downstairs last night? What's your relationship?"

"What man? What are you talking about? There's no man!" my mother blushed and hurriedly covered up.
"I understand even if you don't say it. I know you and Dad haven't been intimate in a long time, and I know you crave someone to satisfy your desires..." My agitation was palpable.
"Okay, Mom admits it. Mom does have a man outside. Mom can't stand living without a man's care anymore! Please, don't tell anyone, okay? I'll grant you any request, please!"

"Fine, just sleep with me for one night, just one night, and I won't tell anyone..." "
No, we're mother and son, that's incest! People will laugh at us! No, I absolutely cannot agree to this!"

Despite my threats and inducements, Mom wouldn't budge. Helpless, I had no choice but to end the conversation hastily.

That night, lying in bed, I imagined Mom naked in someone else's arms, being enjoyed by that person. The thought filled me with rage.

After several nights, I couldn't suppress these feelings any longer. So, that night, I went naked into my mother's room...

She was sleeping when I entered. I quietly slipped under the covers, and she woke up immediately. I grabbed her, one hand inside her bra, vigorously kneading her soft, tender breasts; the other hand around her waist.

I pressed myself against her, feeling her helpless struggle beneath me. My heart and mind were filled with boiling blood, and my penis was hard, harder than ever before...
My mother said weakly, "Don't do this! Don't... Ahhhh... Don't do this! This is incest..."

I couldn't listen to her anymore, because she was single and lacked sexual activity. I quickly pulled off her panties and shoved my already throbbing penis into her vagina.

With a long "Ah..." from her, my penis was fully inside her, the warmth of her vaginal walls giving me a pleasurable sensation.

My penis rubbed against the soft flesh of her vagina, while my mother moaned incessantly.

"Ah...no, ahhh...ah! Pull your thing out, we can't do that! Pull it out...ah..." My mother pleaded with me, her voice almost a cacophony of sobs.
I ignored her pleas and continued thrusting my penis in and out of her vagina between her legs with frenzied speed, while simultaneously grabbing her breasts and kneading her hardened nipples. My mouth licked her neck and face.

Because it was my first time, I didn't know how to control the rhythm and ejaculated quickly. But out of consideration for my mother, I didn't ejaculate inside her vagina; instead, I pulled out and ejaculated onto her stomach—a lot...very sticky...
After that sudden outburst, my mind abruptly calmed down. Facing the woman I had just raped, the one I called "Mom," who was now panting heavily before me, I was completely flustered. Suddenly, Mom sat up, hugging her knees, burying her head in her chest, sobbing uncontrollably, saying nothing.
But the more silent she became, the more uneasy I felt; her cries were like sharp knives stabbing into my heart.

At that moment, I had no solution. I could only sit beside her, put one hand on her shoulder, pull her into my arms, and hug her tightly with the other. I said softly, "Don't cry. What's the use of crying now? I'll take responsibility..."

The more I said this, the harder Mom cried, burying her head in my chest. In that instant, I couldn't tell whether the feeling in my heart was satisfaction or guilt. I only remember that she lay in my arms that night…

The next morning, a ray of sunlight streamed into the room. I opened my sleepy eyes, looked around, and found my mother still lying in my arms. I woke her up. After she woke up, I silently looked at her, expecting a lecture that would be worse than death.

But my mother didn't say anything, just stared blankly out the window…

After a few moments of silence, my mother whispered, “Alright, it's too late to say anything now! Your father owes me too much. Since you are his son, you should repay what he owes me! Promise me you will love me!”

Faced with this sudden change in attitude, I was a little at a loss. But since my mother had tacitly approved of my actions last night, I could only say, “Mom! You are mine, and I will definitely cherish you.”
From then on, we lived like husband and wife, usually calling each other “husband and wife.” During the day, we were mother and son; at night, in bed, we were like husband and wife, indulging in the pleasures of incest.

To escape this life of fear, my parents divorced, and my mother and I moved to Canada.

A few years later, my mother became pregnant, gave birth to my child, and we lived as a family of three.

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A mother's love that is filled with both sexual and romantic love

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