Classic true incest stories from mainland China: Yunnan Eroticism

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

That happened many years ago. I was the eldest son in my family, with a younger brother three years my junior. My brother had always been in poor health and was younger than me, so
naturally, my parents showered him with more attention. But as a child, I always felt that my parents were biased, treating me less well than my brother, and thus harbored resentment. Perhaps because of this, I
was . I rarely did anything to please my parents, often going against them and making them angry. My parents were
helpless about this. The only thing that comforted them was that my grades were relatively good. I studied very hard because I wanted my parents to know that I was better than
my brother .
When I was twelve or thirteen, I gradually developed a strong interest in women, and masturbation went from occasional to daily. But masturbation couldn't truly satisfy
me; I craved real intercourse. At that time, society and schools were still very conservative, and pursuing girls at my age was a big deal; people would gossip behind my back
. Being very vain, I naturally didn't want to do that. Besides, my eccentric personality made it impossible for me to win a girl's heart. I could only endure it
, hoping to grow up and find a wife soon.
I don't know when it started, but my mother gradually attracted me, and later I even made her the object of my sexual fantasies. At first, I felt guilty, always feeling remorseful afterward
. But after about two years, the guilt gradually disappeared; by then, my infatuation with my mother had reached a fever pitch. My mother had a dignified and delicate appearance,
not beautiful or sexy, and her face showed some signs of age. But her fair skin, her well-proportioned figure, and especially her mature feminine charm
, captivated me at that time. Whenever I recall those days, my heart races; I so desperately wanted to make love to my mother, to the point of madness
. My mother is the only woman in my life who has ever truly driven me insane. Despite my desires, I couldn't think of any way to fulfill them.
In desperation, I could only use my mother's underwear to find some solace. Later, I wanted to peek at my mother's body, but I never had the chance. At the time, I didn't realize that
because I was so infatuated with my mother, I sometimes lost control in front of her. Although I never said or did anything to her, she was already
wary of me and always on guard, afraid that I would do something shameful. It was only when I grew up and looked back that I understood this; at the time, I was truly oblivious.
One Sunday noon, the opportunity seemed to come. Around 2 PM, while everyone was still taking a nap, my mother got up to change her clothes and prepare to go out. Perhaps thinking that everyone else
was still sleeping, she just casually closed the door without locking it, and the door opened a crack by itself. I happened to get up and pass by her room,
and through the crack in the door, I saw my mother changing clothes with her back to the door. I was overjoyed, and after a moment's hesitation
, I greedily stared at my mother's body. Even though I only saw my mother's bare upper back, it already made me infatuated. When my mother finished putting on her shirt and was about to change her pants, she suddenly realized something, turned around sharply, and my
despicable behavior was discovered. I hurriedly ran back to my room… Mom came back shortly after leaving. I didn't dare look her in the eye, but I could sense her anger. My mind
was a mess , completely blank. I barely managed to finish dinner before rushing back to school to study.
I spent the entire night at school, unable to concentrate on my studies. I felt incredibly ashamed, too embarrassed to face anyone. Then I thought about how if Mom told
Dad , he might beat me to death. I was even more worried about whether my parents would let our relatives and friends know (I was so naive back then). I couldn't help but
think, "If that happens, it would be better if they beat me to death." When I got home that night, Mom and Dad were still watching TV in the living room. Mom's face was tense; she didn't even look at me, but
Dad didn't seem upset at all. I breathed a slight sigh of relief. For the next few days, nothing happened. Mom didn't scold me, and slowly,
she started talking to me again. I finally felt relieved.
After this incident, I remained infatuated with Mom, and I became a little bolder. At noon, when Mom was sleeping alone, I would sneak a peek at her sleeping posture. At first
, I just stood at the door and watched, but later I went inside and stood by the bed. That noon, I went to peek again. Looking at my sleeping mother, I really wanted to pounce on her without hesitation.
For some reason, I suddenly felt that it would be okay to unbutton her pajamas and look at her breasts. So, I quietly climbed onto the bed and started unbuttoning her pajamas.
I had just unbuttoned one button, and as I was about to unbutton the second, my mother woke up, and I ran away for my life. I
still . But this time, I wasn't as scared as before. Sure enough, nothing happened afterwards, except that my mother was a little colder to me. Because of my mother's "indulgence,"
I became bolder. I thought that even if I did something more outrageous, my mother wouldn't do anything to me, and she wouldn't let anyone else know. I even had the thought of
raping my mother, but I couldn't think of a good way to do it, and I couldn't make up my mind. After all, I was still a little afraid of my father.
A few days into the summer vacation that year, my father (he was a teacher) took his students to a summer camp. I felt I had a chance and was incredibly excited. But several days after
Dad left, I still couldn't figure out how to proceed. With his imminent return, I became angry with myself, silently cursing my own incompetence. That night, Mom
was brewing medicine in the kitchen—I still don't know what kind of medicine it was; maybe she had heatstroke that day, or maybe it was medicine to regulate her body. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I could
use sleeping pills to drug Mom, and Grandpa had them. This thought thrilled me. After confirming with Mom that the medicine was hers, I rushed to Grandpa's
house to find the sleeping pills. Grandpa often suffered from insomnia and always kept sleeping pills at home. When I arrived, Grandpa was out playing cards with his friends, while Grandma was busy tending to
the chickens. I lied to Grandma, saying I was visiting a classmate and had stopped by. After a few words of small talk, Grandma went back to her work.
I seized the opportunity to slip into the room, found the sleeping pills (I forgot the name, something like Valium), and without looking closely, quickly poured out five pills and ran home.
When I got home, Mom's medicine wasn't ready yet. I started calculating how many pills to put in. I knew too many could be fatal, while too few wouldn't be effective. Then
I remembered that Grandpa usually took one pill, so three would probably be enough. After making up my mind, I secretly put three pills into
the pot while Mom wasn't in the kitchen. I was very excited while putting in the medicine, both thrilled and a little scared; that moment was unforgettable. Soon the medicine was ready. Mom poured herself a bowl and drank it
. Not long after, Mom seemed very sleepy. She seemed puzzled, but didn't say anything and went to her room to sleep. About half an hour after Mom fell asleep,
I tried to calm myself down. Although I was still a little nervous, I wasn't too scared. When I saw my younger brother still engrossed in a martial arts novel in his room, I quietly
slipped into Mom's room and gently locked the door. The room was dark, and I could faintly smell Mom's breathing. The scent of perfume and Mom's fragrance told me that getting back with
Mom was no longer a dream. I suppressed my excitement, turned on the bedside lamp, and slowly climbed onto the bed where my mother was fast asleep. I pinched her cheek hard and patted
her body to make sure she was really under the influence of the drug.
At that moment, I was somewhat at a loss, like a child who had suddenly received a large sum of money. I thought I should hug my mother, kiss her, and undress her.
But for some reason, I suddenly felt a little embarrassed, awkward, and unable to get excited. After hesitating for a while, I bent down and kissed my mother's hands and
arms, then her legs, and continued kissing down to her feet. I had sworn that if I had the chance, I would kiss every
part of my mother's body, and now I was going to make it happen. As I kissed, I became more and more excited, and the hesitation in my heart slowly disappeared. I kissed my mother's lips passionately, then
took off her clothes and carefully played with her breasts. My mother's breasts weren't large, and they were a little saggy. Her nipples weren't the bright red I had imagined, but brown, yet they still drove
me crazy with love. I kissed them hard, bit them, and kneaded them vigorously, as if I wanted to swallow them whole.
After taking off my mother's pants, I gazed curiously at the woman's private parts, which were so mysterious to me. At this point, for some reason, I wasn't as excited anymore,
and I wasn't in a hurry to enter. I just kept fiddling with it, constantly looking at it, and then I smelled it and licked it. The sweet fragrance of my mother's private parts excited me again. I
pressed myself against my mother, grasped my penis, and tried to enter. I thought entering would be easy, but the first time it took me a lot of effort to succeed. When I
entered, I felt that my mother's vagina was warm, tight, and a little dry. At this moment, my sleeping mother seemed to let out a soft moan. After entering, I
stopped I wasn't very excited, but I still found the sensation delicious. After savoring the initial sensation, I hugged my mother's body tightly and began to thrust forcefully.
I felt that my mother's vagina was becoming increasingly slippery and comfortable. And I became more and more excited, my movements becoming more and more vigorous. Not long after, I reached orgasm.
After ejaculating, I rested on my mother's body for a while. When I withdrew, it felt like my penis was stuck to my mother's vagina, making me feel a little
sore and a little sore. At that moment, I didn't feel scared, just disgusted and guilty. I quickly got dressed and went back to my room. My brother
probably noticed my strange expression, glanced at me, but didn't say anything, then went back to reading his novel.
I took a shower and went back to my room to lie down and sleep. But I couldn't fall asleep. I wasn't afraid of my parents hitting me, I was just afraid that others would find out. My
guilt quickly disappeared because I had always thought that my parents treated me worse than they treated my brother, so I always harbored some resentment towards them. At that moment, my mind was in turmoil; I was afraid that
others would find out, and I felt disgusted with my own behavior. Finally, I got up and wrote a note to my mother: "I'm sorry, Mom, please don't tell anyone.
I promise I won't do it again." At that moment, I really didn't want to have sex with my mother again. After writing it, I put the note on my mother's bedside table.
When I woke up the next day, it was already past ten o'clock. I thought back to what happened last night, as if it were a dream. Just as I was wondering what my mother would do, I
heard my brother talking to her outside the room. My younger brother asked Mom why she hadn't gone to work. Mom weakly replied that she wasn't feeling well and had taken the day off, then went back to her room.
My brother prepared lunch that day, and Mom didn't eat with us. In the afternoon, Mom went to work. When she returned home in the evening, she washed vegetables and cooked as usual, as if nothing
had happened. During dinner, Mom and I avoided each other's eyes. I secretly glanced at Mom; she looked a little haggard, but her face didn't show any
particular expression. I felt relieved, knowing nothing would happen. A few days later, Dad came home. In front of Dad, Mom would even talk to me, but
when it was just the two of us, she wouldn't speak to me. Of course, this didn't happen often. I didn't feel particularly awkward about this relationship.
After we did that, at first I felt really disgusted and thought I would never think about it again. But less than a month later, my desire for Mom rekindled, and I relived
that night. I was conquered by lust again, wanting to have Mom again. But there were always other people at home, and I couldn't find an opportunity.
One evening, near the end of summer vacation, my chance came. My dad and brother were out, leaving only my mom watching TV in the living room. I couldn't resist any longer. I went up
to my mom, hugged her, and kissed her incessantly, groping her and trying to force myself on her. My mom firmly refused, resisting with all her might. We struggled for about an hour, but
I felt it was difficult to succeed, and I was afraid my dad and brother would come back, so I let her go. A
few days later, one Sunday afternoon, my dad went back to school to prepare for the start of the new semester, and my brother went out to play. Not long after he left, my mom was about to go out too.
I think she was afraid of being alone with me. But I stopped her and forced myself on her again in her room. This time I was more violent, tearing my mom's clothes
. Just as we were struggling most intensely, I suddenly heard someone open the door and come in. I was so frightened that I jumped out of bed, grabbed my clothes, and tried to run out.
Unexpectedly, Mom grabbed me and whispered, "Are you crazy? Going out like that?" I suddenly realized that the bedroom door faced the main entrance; if I went out, I'd
bump into whoever came in, and everyone would understand what was going on. At that moment, we recognized my younger brother. I breathed
a sigh of relief . I looked at Mom; her face was pale, she was clutching a piece of clothing to her chest, staring intently at the door, looking very nervous. I realized then
that Mom was just as afraid of being found out as I was. After confirming that my brother had gone back to his room, I straightened my clothes and left, pretending to have just come from the bathroom.
Although I had failed again, I was happy; I had figured out a way to get Mom's attention.
That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, I lay awake in bed. After midnight, I got up and tiptoed to my parents' room
. Dad was snoring loudly, fast asleep. Dad is hard to wake when he's asleep. I boldly went in and approached my parents' bed. By the faint
starlight from the window, I observed my sleeping parents. Dad slept on the outside, and Mom slept on the inside. At that moment, the only place I could easily and safely touch was Mom's
feet. I bent down and gently stroked Mom's feet. Soon, Mom woke up. When she realized it was me, she was terrified and
hurriedly waved her hands to stop me, trying to pull her feet back. I didn't care about that; I held her feet firmly to prevent her from pulling them back, and then even provocatively sniffed them.
Mom seemed a little embarrassed by my actions. Mom's feet were beautiful, with only a faint smell, which didn't smell bad at all, but rather quite
pleasant. Seeing Mom like this, I wanted to continue teasing her, and also to please her, partly because I found her feet adorable. So I kept kissing and
licking her feet. This made Mom both ashamed and anxious. She struggled to sit up, trying to look stern, and whispered angrily, "Are you out of your mind?"
I whispered back, "Mom, I just couldn't hold back anymore." I went on to say a bunch of cheesy, awkward lines I'd picked up from novels—lines I'm too embarrassed to write down now.
I thought it would work, but obviously, it didn't. However, my actions did. My mother was terrified and kept begging me to leave. Later
I thought I had achieved my goal, so I left. My goal was to make my mother afraid of me, afraid that if she "pushes" me too hard, I will do something reckless and be
found out by my family, especially my father. After that night, I knew that getting my mother to agree to something wouldn't be so difficult anymore. But I never got the chance.
Before I knew it, school started, and I was in my second year of high school. One evening at dinner, my father said he had to work the night shift. I was overjoyed and secretly cursed myself
for being stupid . How could I not have thought of that? My father works a night shift every week, and my younger brother goes back to school for evening self-study—wasn't that the perfect opportunity? I
ate dinner quietly and went back to school. When I was at school, around 7 p.m., I asked my teacher for leave, saying I wasn't feeling well, and then I rode my bike home as fast as I could. My mother
was stunned when she saw me suddenly return, but she immediately understood what was going on. This time, I didn't panic. I knelt in front of my mother, hugged her legs tightly, and kept begging her. My mother
just shook her head desperately, refusing to agree, and tried to reason with me, saying that it was incest and couldn't be done. But her attitude was clearly not as firm as before. Later, I couldn't resist
anymore and forcibly carried my mother into my room. At first, she resisted fiercely, but when I held her feet and kissed them, it clearly reminded her of
what I had done to her feet that night, and she softened. She resisted a little when I took off her clothes, but when I took off her underwear, she resigned herself to fate, closed her eyes, and
let me do as I pleased.
I kissed every part of my mother's body passionately. I enjoyed her breasts to the fullest, but I couldn't kiss her private parts much because she tried her best to block me
from touching them. Later, I could only kiss down her thighs. I kissed my mother's feet the longest because, in my eyes, her feet were lovely "heroes," and I
kissed them to my heart's content with gratitude. When I entered her, my mother didn't resist me much. I was much more skilled than the first time, and it didn't take long
for me to get in. I felt that my mother's vagina wasn't as tight as last time. It was warm and wet, and the "grip" felt very comfortable. In my excitement, I made love passionately,
fully enjoying the pleasure of sex. The blissful climax came quickly, and I thrust harder, wanting to give all my sperm to my mother, even
everything I had. Afterwards, I felt exhausted but also incredibly satisfied, yet also a little guilty. After I withdrew from my mother's body, she took her underwear, covered
her private parts turned over, and knelt down, then turned away to clean herself carefully. I watched her actions curiously as I dressed. She glared at me, as if to say,
"Are you satisfied now?" After finishing her clothes, she ignored me and went to shower. I lay down on the bed, satisfied, and
fell asleep until my younger brother returned.
The next day, my mother seemed no different than usual, her mood not necessarily worse. Of course, she ignored me as before, but she didn't deliberately avoid me.
Really, although my mother didn't want that kind of relationship, she didn't really care; she was only afraid of being discovered. A few days later, I told my homeroom teacher
I wouldn't be going back to school for evening self-study. Back then, there was no strict rule requiring students to return to school for evening self-study. When I announced my decision at dinner,
my father didn't object; he didn't know my true intentions. But my mother knew what I was thinking and immediately looked angry. I told her I would definitely
study better at home than at school, that my studies would improve, and that I would never neglect my studies, and that I would never let my parents down. My father and brother
looked at me with confusion, hearing how serious I was. Only my mother blushed slightly, busily adding rice to her bowl to cover her embarrassment.
After that, although not every week, I often had opportunities to have sex with my mother. She never really stopped me, always half-heartedly complying
, and becoming increasingly accommodating. Honestly, I had no love for my mother at that time; only lust. My mother always indulged me
for my sake and for the family. But I always thought she was only doing it for appearances. She experienced orgasms during our intercourse, but she never
truly enjoyed the pleasure. After having that kind of relationship with my mother, my attitude towards my family improved. I was especially attentive to my mother. My father and brother were happy to see
this , and my mother was somewhat relieved as well. Gradually, my mother would also start talking to me more often, but our relationship always felt a little awkward.
The reason I became nicer to my family was only for lust, not out of genuine affection. My mother and I were both worried about being discovered by the rest of the family, so
we were very careful. Fortunately, each household in our building had a bicycle shed downstairs, and my father and brother would always park their bicycles there when they came home at night.
My mother and I could always hear the sound of our bicycle shed door opening. But one night, something almost happened.
That night, my mother and I had just finished having sex when we heard the front door open. It turned out that my father had come back to get something. Because he was leaving immediately, he hadn't
parked his bicycle in the shed. My mother and I were so frightened that we lay on the bed, too scared to move. Luckily, my bedroom door was locked. Dad hurriedly grabbed his things and was about to leave again.
As he was leaving, he noticed the light was on in my room, but Mom wasn't there. He asked where she was, and I gave him a random name. Dad didn't say anything,
just asked why I had closed the door, but left without waiting for my answer. That night, Mom and I were terrified.
After that, I locked the front door with a hidden lock, just in case. Nothing like that happened again. Of course, a few times family members happened to come
home , but the bicycle shed always ended up being "called by the police." Summer and winter vacations were the hardest times for me because there weren't many opportunities during the holidays.
I cherished every opportunity, making them all unforgettable. I remember one time during the summer vacation of my second year of high school the most. Dad went to Grandma's hometown and wouldn't be back until the next day.
In the middle of the night, I sneaked into Mom's room and stayed on her bed for most of the night, insisting on having sex with her twice before she was satisfied. That was
the most .
Time flies, and before I knew it, I was in college. When I was away at university, the first month or two were filled with new experiences, and I wasn't too bothered by my mother's absence. But later
, it became unbearable. I missed her more and more, longing for those blissful times. Taking advantage of the school's sports meet, I ran back home.
My mother . Of course, she knew why I came back. On the very night I arrived home, I sneaked into my parents' room while my father was asleep, but
before I could even make a move, my mother woke up. She desperately tried to get rid of me, and I begged her to satisfy me once during my few days at home, or I wouldn't leave.
After my repeated requests, my mother finally agreed. On the afternoon of the third day after I returned home, my mother gave me her chance; she came home almost two hours early.
That day, I experienced immense satisfaction. I finally understood what "absence makes the heart grow fonder" meant; I kissed every part of my mother's body again and again, and
the feeling during penetration was so satisfying. I thrust passionately and gently, greedily enjoying my mother's body, and even long after ejaculation, I was unwilling
to withdraw from her body.
The next day, I reluctantly left home and returned to school. Winter break arrived quickly. During that winter break, my father was busy with many things, and my younger brother was busy preparing for his high school entrance exams.
This meant I had more opportunities to spend time alone with my mother than usual during holidays. I had a very pleasant winter break.
[The End]

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