My mother's fiery slap

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Last year during the National Day Golden Week holiday, my whole family went on a trip to Inner Mongolia, where we stayed for more than three days. Perhaps it was because it was the first time I'd eaten so much beef and mutton, or maybe it was the pungent smell of the livestock in the tent, but I felt a surge of sexual desire those days; my penis was constantly hard. I usually adore my mother, her open-mindedness and her voluptuous figure; even when I'm masturbating, I think about her. This time, during this heightened sexual urge, I couldn't help but think of her, feeling that perhaps I would have a chance in this remote pastoral area of Inner Mongolia.
The night before we returned, my mother had a few words with my father during the day, and instead of sleeping in the same room as him, she squeezed into the bed with me. My mother has never held back or hidden anything from me. To paraphrase what she used to say when she bathed me as a child: "You came out of my belly, what's there to be ashamed of?" Now, lying beside me, my mother was only wearing a bra and panties. Although she was middle-aged, her skin was still very smooth and white, and coupled with her voluptuous curves, lewd thoughts of wanting to sleep with her swirled in my mind, burning uncontrollably.
It was probably one or two in the morning, and I couldn't fall asleep. I pretended to be asleep, pretending to mumble in my sleep, and then rolled over and hugged my mother. My mother woke up immediately, hugging me back with her usual maternal love, patting me like she did when I was a child. This was the first time I had ever hugged my mother so tightly while completely naked, and I was surprised by how smooth and warm her skin was. My penis, which had been throbbing inside my underwear, became hard, feeling like it was about to explode. I pretended to talk in my sleep even more, pressing myself even closer to my mother. I spread her legs apart with my own, clamping one of my penis between them and rubbing it incessantly.
My leg movements became more and more exaggerated, rubbing my knee against the area around my mother's clitoris. Sure enough, my mother's body reacted; her face, pressed against mine, grew increasingly hot, and she even let out a soft moan once. Growing bolder, I rolled onto her, using my knees to spread her thighs. Just as I was about to pull down her underwear, a stinging slap landed on my face! I quickly rolled off her, not daring to look into her angry eyes, and pretended to be asleep.
The next day, I didn't dare speak to my mother. We were taking a long-distance bus back. Lying on the large berth at the back of the bus, I pretended to sleep, my mind replaying the events of the previous night. Although I felt embarrassed and scared, the scenes were also so stimulating, making my blood boil.
On the return bus, I spent my time eating and sleeping in my berth. My mother slept in the berth to my right by the window, and didn't speak to me all day. My dad, who slept in the bunk below me, thought we were both sick and kept visiting and showing concern, which made me feel even more guilty.
[The End]

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