[Both wife and mother]

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Wife and Mother

[Full Text]

My marriage to my son has been fraught with difficulties, but I have never regretted it.

Our marriage was a momentous event within the church. When the priests bound
us , they particularly praised our courage. They said it was
a necessary step for us to ascend to heaven.

Although secular laws prohibit polygamy and consider consanguineous marriage to be immoral and sinful, the Church's founder had
thirty wives, some of whom were sisters, and some were mothers and daughters sharing a husband. Some even married their
own sisters, aunts, and other female relatives, establishing eternal marriages.

The Church also encourages believers to trace their family trees, allowing brothers to have posthumous marriages with the women of their ancestors, giving them an eternal
home and enabling their souls to ascend to heaven. I was one of the few church members willing to truly marry my son
, and I should have been praised, but due to national laws, the ceremony could only be held secretly for us.

Of course, eternal marriage and physical union are two different things, but a husband is a husband. Whoever he is,
if he desires physical intimacy, or even expects to have children from this union, it is his right
, and it is in accordance with the teachings revealed in the scriptures. Thus, my son became my husband, and I
became his wife, beginning a life together as both wife and mother.

Before the marriage, my son's courtship was truly intoxicating. I also blame myself for being weak-willed; his
sweet words stirred my heart, because I never imagined that my son would be my suitor.

He was frail and sickly from childhood, often causing me worry. He was fervent in his religion but indifferent to everything else.

My late husband was not a believer and was very dismissive of my and my son's religion; I often had to act like a mother hen,
protecting and defending him.

Unexpectedly, after my late husband's death, he began to pursue me. During a missionary trip back to his hometown, he
confessed his feelings and proposed to me directly, asking me to marry him.

I never imagined my son would propose to me; I thought he was joking, but I discovered he was serious. I also never
imagined he would use religious aspirations as a reason for refusing to marry anyone else. I understood the doctrine, thinking he was simply concerned about
the spiritual destiny of my soul and thus proposed a religious marriage.

I appreciated his concern, but he unequivocally clarified that he required us to fulfill earthly
marital responsibilities simultaneously, which was not forbidden by doctrine. He acted according to God's will, leaving me no room to refuse, because if
he truly understood this, divine will could not be defied.

I considered it for a week, even consulting with religious teachers, and surprisingly decided to marry him.

I don't know where the courage came from when I accepted; it must have been God's support. When the wedding date was set, I wanted to back out, but
it was too late.

Before the marriage, he treated me according to religious rules, and our interactions remained within the bounds of propriety.

After we pledged our marriage, we shared a room during our trip, but slept in separate beds, signifying that his proposal
was not driven by lust, but rather in accordance with divine will.

To avoid embarrassing me, he and I flew to a temple abroad to be married. On our wedding night, he, a virgin,
made love to me. He was considerate in every way, taking into account both my feelings as a mother and my
needs as a wife. He always sought my consent before deciding whether I would expose myself, to what extent, in what manner, or
how many times.

During our honeymoon, I experienced the sweetness of being respected and cherished by my husband . He tried
his best to satisfy my needs, both physically and emotionally, which made me believe that I hadn't married the wrong person, and that this decision was in accordance with God's will. I believe that
if my late husband knew, he wouldn't blame me.

Upon returning from our honeymoon, I first told my elder brother about this wonderful event. He was the leader of the church, and although he seemed
indifferent , his actions were in accordance with church rules, so he had nothing to say and accepted us.

My husband promised to continue relying on me at the company. Because of the complexities of dealing with people and situations, my husband
revealed his lack of experience, mainly in business dealings and the power struggles within the family. As his
mother, I wanted to make decisions for him, but as his wife, I felt I should let him take the lead.

Outside the church, no one knew about our marriage. The only person who knew was my elder brother, a highly respected figure
within the church and a powerful figure in the company, whom my late husband had trusted. His ambition soon
became apparent; he wanted to seize power in the company.

Tensions were high, and our methods and styles differed, leading to frequent arguments. For a time,
we slept in separate rooms, and our marriage was in trouble. I tried to maintain the relationship, but had to remain in the background.

Shortly after the marriage, I became pregnant due to the lack of contraception, further increasing the mental stress.

My young husband was inexperienced in political maneuvering. My cunning elder brother used the secret of our marriage as leverage to force
my husband to marry his daughter, hoping to gain control of the situation.

My niece, also a member of the church, knew she would share a husband with her aunt. Within the family, I was the elder,
and according to religious rules, I was the legal wife, but legally she was the official wife.

On their wedding day, to maintain appearances, I officiated, explaining to the guests that I was simply gaining weight despite being heavily
pregnant.

Soon after, I was very heavily pregnant and went abroad to give birth. My husband, however, was threatened and unable to be with me.

When my son was born, I was alone in the delivery room, reflecting on my life and feeling desolate. Because of
my age thankfully, I survived, and both mother and child were safe.

From then on, I had to separate from my husband and live a life akin to exile with my newborn son. My elder brother
warned me that if I returned, our marriage and childbirth would be exposed, my husband would be disgraced, and
our son would have no place to stand.

During my exile, my husband could only visit me in stolen moments, and we would share our longing for each other. We cherished our time together;
the test of separation proved that our relationship could withstand the trials.

During lovemaking, he displayed an unprecedented passion and affection, solidifying and deepening our love.

At that moment, he wanted to abandon everything to be with me. My husband loved me so much; I could die without regret. I
despised my elder brother's actions and vowed to preserve my late husband's family fortune, deciding to plan a counterattack.

A year later, my niece also gave birth to a daughter for my husband. I secretly thanked Heaven, for according to my late husband's
will, male heirs had the right of inheritance; I believed it was a divine arrangement and blessing upon me.

To carry out my counterattack, I secretly returned.

There were still some of my late husband's confidants in the company who remained loyal to me. On the board of directors, there were also some old friends
who disapproved of my elder brother's actions. As his mother, I used my influence to win them over and secure their help. Finally,
I caught him cheating and forced him to resign. I didn't pursue his ill-gotten gains in exchange for his promise to keep
our secret.

We regained control, but believing family was more important than career, we decided to give up our careers and move abroad with me to start a new
life.

My faith forbids divorce, and my husband was also devoted to his cousin. For the sake of their daughter
, the three of us met and confronted each other. She was understanding and willing to accept a doctrinal arrangement, sharing
a wife with me, but acknowledging me as the legal wife and willingly taking a secondary role. I also generously accepted her,
treating , not as an aunt and niece.

Because of my age, I almost had an accident during my first pregnancy with my "son-husband." Although my husband loved
children , he insisted I use contraception. So, the responsibility of raising children fell on his cousin.

After giving birth to two daughters, she finally had a son with her third pregnancy, and she asked her children to respectfully call me "
Auntie ."

Another proof of my husband's deep affection for me was that he slept with me six days a week, only
going to my cousin's room on the seventh.

I felt this was unfair to my cousin, because as a shared wife, they should share the pleasure of sex. I
am twenty years older than my husband and felt inferior, afraid that he would dislike me as I aged and lost my looks.

But he is a filial son and wouldn't embarrass his mother, always considering my feelings. He expressed that his
love for me would never change, giving me more care and affection. My cousin, on the other hand, is seven or eight years younger than my husband, and her sex life should be
hers to manage. However, she was in charge of childbirth, her belly was always full, one child after another, and in the end, it was still me, the older
sister, who was in charge.

When she stopped trying to conceive, my husband's libido also decreased, and I was more considerate of the sexual needs of an older person than she was
.

Between his two wives, my son knew he had to make a proper arrangement. One had shared hardships with him,
acting as both wife and mother; the other was his childhood sweetheart. They were as close as siblings, both equally dear, and their bond was strengthened.
Since they were so close, he openly discussed the matter with us, proposing a compromise: the three of us—my husband, my sister, and I—would share a bed.
We all agreed it was feasible.

My husband and I had been married for twenty years. To him, I was a wife in bed and a mother in bed. I had suffered for him and
risked my life to raise his child.

He was unwaveringly loyal to me, even though he was forced to marry his young and beautiful cousin. Yet, he still prioritized me, showing me deep affection and loyalty.
As a woman, I understood the feeling of sharing my husband with someone else. So, one night my husband made love to me, and the next night
he offered him to my sister.

My niece, seeing how I treated her like a sister or daughter, respected me even more. However,
the rivalry between us sisters was natural for women; it would be strange if we didn't compete.

We weren't arguing about who was older or younger, but about who was better in bed. In this respect, I had the upper hand. My
late husband's libido was actually stronger than my son's, but when my son made love to me, there was something my late husband lacked: an
almost obsessive religious fervor. Satisfying my physical and spiritual needs was a responsibility God had given him.

When I saw my husband making love with my sister, she was incredibly seductive and alluring, but my husband didn't seem to appreciate it
much . He didn't have that same passion for his wife, who was older, had a better figure, and was more attractive.

My sister often felt inferior to me, and even felt jealous, because of the different treatment she received in bed.

I loved my husband dearly; he was honest and kind throughout his life, devoted to his faith, and loving towards his wife and children. Unfortunately, he was frail from a young age; perhaps our
competition in bed shortened his lifespan.

The white-haired man burys the black-haired man; he is gone, leaving behind my sister and me, along with more than thirty children and grandchildren.
As the elder, I am not obligated to wear mourning clothes or observe mourning for him, but I fulfill my duties as a wife, observing
mourning for him as his widow.

I believe that when the end times come, he will awaken and call upon me by the name of his beloved wife. I will answer the call and rise again
, to ascend with him to become a god in eternity, to enjoy the love of husband and wife forever, to have children, and to proliferate
in …

As for my niece, my dear sister who once shared a husband with me, I will also awaken her and take her to the world of eternal bliss. I do not
mind , for by that day, my husband will have ascended to become one of the gods, with inexhaustible sexual desire and boundless energy. Oh, no wonder
the wise women of our faith also agree that husbands should have multiple wives; it is a precaution for the eternal kingdom…

My husband, my son, is fortunate to have married you, and you have good judgment in marrying me, a virtuous and
capable wife. Although I once had second thoughts about the troubles this eternal marriage might bring, we
overcame the obstacles with unwavering steadfastness and love, proving that we are worthy to be husband and wife in eternity, and that I am your
principal wife .

Your father, though more skilled in lovemaking than you and loved me dearly, was not as fortunate as you.

Or perhaps it should be said that I am fortunate to have been chosen by you.

Farewell, in eternal bliss, to continue being husband and wife with you. There, we can make love endlessly and
have countless children.

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