Now come and do it to me, son.

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

After graduation, I went straight to work. Unfamiliar with the work, it took me a lot of time and energy to adjust. I also had to take the train to see my girlfriend once or twice a month, so I was very busy but fulfilled. During this time, due to my lack of independence, my mother traveled a long distance to help me with most of the paperwork for joining the company. She also came to clean my apartment every month after I went to work or went out. Because I rarely had time alone with my mother, nothing much happened for a long time.
As my work gradually became less demanding, I started focusing on my mother.
My lifestyle became increasingly slovenly, and I neglected my diet. Later, I got acute gastroenteritis and was hospitalized for two days. My mother, worried sick, came to see me overnight. Two days later, she moved into an apartment about 20 kilometers away from my place. The apartment was a loft design; the first floor had a dining room and living room, and the second floor had a bedroom. Because of the low ceiling, I could barely stand upright in the bedroom, and I always felt like I was going to bump my head.
My mother was somewhat wary of me and didn't even give me the key to the apartment. My mother would occasionally come over to change the sheets a few more times and keep some soup warm in the pot. I rarely encountered her directly in the house; she was clearly intentionally avoiding me. Later, I learned that she stayed with me partly because she was worried about my lack of self-sufficiency, and partly because my father's temper had drastically worsened.
In the following two years, although my father paid off his debts with the help of friends and his business slowly improved, the rift between him and my mother had widened considerably. Later, when I married Xiao Ke, I only saw my father once at the wedding. After that, I heard from my mother that he had found me a stepmother.
My mother didn't seem too emotionally affected. As she herself said, she was used to breakups and reconciliations; she had experienced so much herself, let alone my father.
During this time, I learned a lot about the internet and surveillance online. Later, I bought my mother a laptop and secretly installed a remote control program on it. My mother started using QQ again, which she hadn't used in a long time, and became addicted to online card games.
I observed my mother's screen from the other end of the internet, watching her every move through her webcam, and often played card games with her. My mother types slowly and rarely replies on QQ.
Once, on a whim, I put her two essays, "I'm Just a Woman" and "I Love My Son," written between the ages of forty and fifty, into a document next to her game icon
on her desktop. I don't know when she first opened them, but the first time I saw her browsing the two articles was late at night. She had turned off the light, wearing a gray-blue cotton sleeveless slip dress. Her nipples, supported by her breasts, were faintly visible through the fabric. The screen light illuminated her face, clearly showing her flushed cheeks and beads of sweat the size of sesame seeds. The document slowly scrolled down, and she was intently reading Chapter Four.
A moment later, her left hand moved to the underside of her breast and began to knead it. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, her index and middle fingers moving up and down her nipples, her fingernails occasionally drawing circles around them. Under her caresses, her large nipples bulged, as if trying to burst out of their sockets. My mother used her right hand to pull down the shoulder strap of her bra, leaned back in the computer chair, and began to vigorously knead her left breast. Her desperate moans came through the headphones, making my blood boil. After my mother took off her underwear, I followed suit.
Her nightgown hung loosely around her waist like a belt. My mother's feet were off the ground, propped up on the computer desk, her left hand grasping her right breast. She leaned back in the chair, her right hand slowly rubbing her genitals with two fingers. Unfortunately, the camera only showed her lower abdomen; not even a single pubic hair was visible. My mother's breathing became heavy, and she occasionally let out a muffled groan. Her movements gradually quickened.
In less than half a minute, her face was filled with pain, her plump legs tensed, and even her breathing became erratic. Then, she clamped her legs tightly around her right hand, her body trembled involuntarily, her two mounds of white flesh jerked, and her lower abdomen contracted violently twice. A chill ran down my spine, and I ejaculated as I gripped my rapidly moving penis.
My mother remained limp for a while before recovering. I saw her grasp her right breast, inserting two fingers into her vagina and gently moving them in and out. Soon, she quickened her pace, her fingers moving rapidly inside her vagina while her palm rubbed her clitoris. The squelching sounds of fluid mingled with the muffled moans emanating from her mouth and nose, becoming increasingly clear, making her breasts appear even more erect.
Seeing her forearm movements intensify, her palms beginning to stir continuously, my mother lowered her head, biting her lower lip, her body drenched in sweat, emitting intermittent moans. Then, she opened her legs, raised her buttocks high, thrust her lower abdomen upwards, and trembled all over, completely immersed in the pleasure of orgasm. At this moment, I could clearly see the two fingers inserted into her vagina and the vaginal fluid flowing from her vulva to her anus. The slightly dark outline of my mother's vulva and the pink inner walls made me swallow hard. Looking at my still-shrunken penis, I thought to myself, "My dear mother, you're so horny."
After shutting down the computer, my mother didn't turn it on for two days. On the third night, she played some cards. On the fourth night, she opened the document again and started reading it from the beginning, masturbating with a series of soft moans. This went on for two or three months.
I gradually added many more mother-son novels to her desktop, and she would open and read every single one, especially "My Mom Called Me Home for Dinner" and "The Breakthrough Between Mother and Son After the New Year," which she read over and over again. She asked me why some unfamiliar things appeared on the computer. Of course, I knew what they were and explained to her that they were probably website ads and not to worry.
While my mother secretly masturbated, I patiently observed her habits, calculated her menstrual cycle, and even memorized when she usually bathed, when she usually ate snacks, what clothes she wore when she was most aroused, and which part of the article she found most arousing.
Later, as Wi-Fi became more widespread, I thought about getting a wireless router for my mother. She wasn't familiar with network devices and had no idea I'd installed cameras on the two routers in her house. Those two cameras allowed me to gain a deeper understanding of my mother's daily life—but that's another story. At that time, four bags of apples were all the rage, and smartphones with WeChat were gradually becoming popular. My mother, however, didn't use WeChat because she hadn't activated mobile data. After I introduced her to Wi-Fi, she readily agreed to have it installed, but I didn't schedule a date with her.
I waited until late one night, and saw my mother had showered, changed into her gray-blue sundress, and was sitting in front of the computer, opening a document. I sent her a message on QQ saying I was coming over to install the router. She opened the chat box and only typed "Now" after a long time. I figured it was a question, and before she could finish, I quickly added a few words to her chat box, making it "Come and do it to me now, son." My mother had just looked up from the keyboard when she saw what she'd sent; her face paled, and she couldn't believe she'd sent it. I texted my mother, "Mom, your computer got a virus, right? I'll come over and fix it for you." Before she could reply, I was already out the door, driving to her building, buying a pancake, and excitedly heading upstairs.
When I entered, I found my mother had changed into a plain-colored sleeveless pleated long dress; turning around, I could clearly see the outline of her bra and underwear. My mother blushed, turned her back to me, and walked straight inside, saying softly, "My computer just got a virus, it wasn't me who sent it!"
"Yeah, I know, I'll pretend I didn't see it."
"It wasn't me!" My mother seemed a little guilty.
"I know, I know."
Then I started installing the router and adjusting its position. Seeing that I was about to use her computer, my mother hurriedly stopped me, telling me to come back another day to fix it. I went to the bathroom to wash my hands and came back to sit on the sofa on the other side of my mother's. Watching her nibble on her pancake, I asked, "Mom, have you read all the novels I sent you?" My mother almost dropped her pancake in surprise, lifting her left leg and kicking me hard, saying, "You little rascal, I was wondering where these came from! Turns out it was you causing trouble!"
"Have you read them?" I grabbed my mother's small foot, which she hadn't managed to pull back, and placed it on my lap, giving her a few massages.
My mother leaned back on the sofa, not pulling her leg away, and said, "No! I deleted them!" "Not even a little bit?"
"I'm telling you, you're not a kid anymore, why do you always have such a crooked idea about your mother?" "When the flower is in full bloom, it's time to pick it; besides, this flower is blooming so beautifully, it would be a waste not to pick it..." "Go away, what kind of twisted logic is that? I'm still a budding flower!"
"Alright then, I'll smell the flowers, help them ripen, and gather some honey." My hands, which were on my mother's calves, moved slightly towards her knees.
My mother blushed instantly, lowering her voice and sternly saying, "Come on, what kind of mother and son do this?!" "Mom, where's your knowledge? People may not have eaten pork, but they've seen pigs run. You've eaten pork, why are you asking this?"
"It's different!"
I said with a grin. "How is it different? I've been through that house so many times, I could find my way with my eyes closed!" "Nonsense, don't make me upset. People aren't animals, you can't just do whatever you want!" My mother's face turned as red as a rotten apple.
"Anyway, no one will know, what's there to be afraid of?"
"It's not a matter of being afraid or not, we just can't do this, you know?" "You're still afraid. Don't worry, I promise it'll be foolproof, we'll only do this when we're at home and no one else is around." My hands began to gently massage my mother's thighs.
"Get out!" My mother was silent for a moment, then handed me the half-eaten pancake. "I can't eat anymore." I reached my left hand under my mother's skirt and slowly rubbed it against her inner thigh, almost touching her underwear. "Mom, you know I don't like this kind of dry, crunchy stuff. I like the moist
, tender kind." "How could I have given birth to such a thing? Shameless!"
I moved closer to my mother, my right hand reaching behind her to put my arm around her shoulder, while my left hand gently traced the flesh of her inner thigh with the edge of my nail, like playing the piano. "Anyway, I just feel especially comfortable and happy with you."
My mother put the pancake aside, picked up a piece of cantaloupe with a toothpick, and put it in her mouth. "Oh, happy? What about you and Xiao Ke?"
"It's different."
"How is it different?"
"I feel especially warm inside you."
"Xiao Ke's inside is ice cold?"
"No, that's not right. I feel completely enveloped inside you." I placed my left palm up, my index finger touching my mother's mons pubis, sliding my finger down and gently rubbing it against her panties.
"Just say I'm loose!"
"No, no, Mom, you know Dad hasn't been able to use himself all these years, is your vagina different than before?" I pressed my finger against my mother's vulva, my fingertip getting wet with the vaginal fluid seeping through her panties.
"If your dad doesn't use it, then no one else will?"
"Who?"
"Myself, you filthy scoundrel!"
I reached my right hand under my mother's armpit and grasped her right breast, while my left hand covered her mons pubis, my thumb pressing on her lower abdomen, and my four fingers applying a little pressure to her vulva in a circular motion. "Mom, I want to fuck you!" My mother blushed, her breathing rapid, and grabbed my hand, which had already pulled open the edge of her panties, saying, "It's a promise, this is the last time!"
"Okay!" I didn't care, I pushed my mother down onto the sofa, reached into her long skirt and pulled out her purple lace panties, draped the pleated skirt over her waist, and spread her legs. Seeing this lewd scene, my mother panicked and covered her vulva with her hands to block my view, her body twisting restlessly. Her labia were clearly wet, mottled and glistening, and her vulva was already a vast expanse of water.
I removed my mother's hands, gently placed my hands on her thighs, lowered my head, and extended my tongue to lightly part her labia. I gently teased her clitoris, causing her to shiver and press my head down tightly with both hands. My tongue pressed firmly against her vulva, rubbing vigorously from bottom to top. After only five or six strokes, it was covered in her gushing vaginal fluid. As my tongue licked harder, her hands tightened around my head. The moans emanating from her mouth above grew louder, and the gurgling sounds from below gradually intensified. My
powerful tongue plunged into her wet vagina, teasing the entrance. Her buttocks rose high, welcoming my tongue, trying to penetrate even deeper. My teeth touched her clitoris, and my tongue moved deeply inside her vagina, the stubble on my chin occasionally brushing against her perineum. A gush of fluid landed on my tongue.
My mother slapped my shoulder and scolded, "You brat, are you trying to drive your old lady crazy? Hurry up and come in!" "Mom, this is the last time, I have to serve you properly, right?" "You can have as many times as you want, just come in!"
I stood up straight, one foot on the floor, my right leg bent under my mother's left thigh, and aimed my penis at her vaginal opening. With a slump, my penis slid all the way in. My mother let out a weak "ah," the sound lingering in her nose. My mother's vaginal opening tightly gripped the base of my penis, the soft flesh inside undulating rhythmically. The clitoris was hard, like a small, sucking mouth, constantly drawing in the glans. Waves of pleasure surged from the glans to the top of my head.
Seeing that I didn't move, my mother shook her hips again. "What are you standing there for? Move!" Hearing this, I suddenly started thrusting at full speed. Caught off guard, my mother tensed her legs before she even finished speaking, her calves gripping my back tightly. After a spasm, her hands, which had been wrapped around my waist, fell limply to the sofa. I waited for my mother to slowly recover before accelerating my thrusts again. My mother pushed me against my lower abdomen, signaling me to stop, saying, "You're like a pile driver! Your cunt's all swollen from all this, be gentle!" Stimulated by her words, I thrust my penis inside her about ten times, felt a chill on my back, and with a thrust of my hips, I ejaculated. My mother felt my penis throb a few times inside her vagina, knowing I had ejaculated. But she was on the verge of another orgasm, and this sudden stop left her wanting more. She supported herself with one hand, pushed me back with the other, got up, grabbed my semi-erect penis, and sat on top of me.
I lay there, my hands gripping my mother's two bouncing breasts, letting her move over me. My penis, which had just ejaculated, slowly hardened again. My mother's moans grew louder; she tilted her head back, her hair, which had been tied up, came undone, completely immersed in the act of sex.
After a while, my mother collapsed on top of me, her buttocks still moving.
"I can't take it anymore, you take over,"
I said without a word. I grabbed my mother's buttocks with both hands, lifting her buttocks to hold them in place, my lower body thrusting up and down rapidly, my testicles slapping against her anus. My mother tightly embraced my neck, her lips pressed against my chin, beads of sweat on her forehead, moaning incessantly. I pried open my mother's mouth with my tongue, sucking on her fragrant tongue, listening to the muffled groans coming from her mouth. My penis thrust faster, and I ejaculated again.
My mother lifted her buttocks to take a tissue to wipe her genitals, and I realized that my lower abdomen was covered in a mixture of my mother's and my vaginal fluids, and the sofa was also wet.
I went to the bathroom to shower, then unceremoniously lay down on my mother's bed. Before falling asleep, I hugged her from behind and made love to her again. My mother kept saying that her stomach couldn't take it and told me to slow down.
I had only been asleep for a short while when I heard moaning and groaning sounds of sex in my sleep. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but when I woke up, I found my mother was also listening to the sounds. It turned out to be coming from the living room upstairs; a young couple was enjoying their time together. Listening to this, I pulled my mother up, made her kneel on the bed, and thrust my semi-erect penis inside her.
The moaning of my mother and the girl upstairs mingled together, sounding incredibly pleasant. After half an hour, I ejaculated again, pulled out my penis, and drifted off to sleep.
[The End]

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Now come and do it to me, son.

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