Mother and son in love

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

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Early summer morning sunlight streamed into the room. In the center of the large bed lay a beautiful woman

in her thirties or forties, her arms around a young man in his twenties. The man was completely naked, a thick, dark penis inserted into the woman's hairless vulva. His left hand rested on her breast, his fingertips still teasing her nipple. The woman's once pristine white wedding dress had slipped down, exposing her soft breasts. The small, light brown nipples, about the size of peanuts, paired with areolas the size of a five-cent coin, were perfectly proportioned, appearing almost like works of art.

Under the sunlight, if one ignored the dried semen stains on the woman's face, hair, mouth, breasts, and genitals, and the thick, glistening penis inside her vagina, glistening with her vaginal fluids, the scene would seem quite tender.

The sun was high in the sky, and the noise outside the window grew louder. The beautiful woman frowned slightly, feeling a gentle pinching on her nipple. Opening her eyes, she saw the restless left hand and smiled. Turning her head, she noticed the sun was already high

in the sky. She shifted her body slightly, muttering to herself, "Oh dear, it's so late. I need to get up quickly and make breakfast for Mingming." "Pfft!" Unexpectedly, the thick penis slipped out of the woman's vagina with just a slight movement, bringing with it a thick mixture of semen and vaginal fluid. Like a milk bottle that had been knocked over, a continuous stream of semen flowed from the woman's vagina, quickly running from her vulva to her thighs, then soaking into her white stockings. In the sunlight, the dried semen stains and fresh semen mingled on the white stockings, creating an indescribably lewd scene.

"Mom, why didn't you wake me when you woke up? Trying to sneak away by yourself?" A lazy, slightly coquettish voice came from behind. Then, a pair of strong arms pulled the beautiful woman into their embrace. The right hand kneaded her large breasts, while the left hand pressed against her genitals, fingers pinching and rubbing her labia. With a thrust, his penis, which had been half-erect, was now fully engorged and penetrated her anus.

The violent impact caused a wave of flesh to rise from her buttocks. With each powerful thrust, the semen that had been injected into her anus the night before quickly turned into streams of white fluid under the powerful churning of the penis, splashing out with each thrust.

You read that right, these two were mother and son, and incestuous mother and son with a blood relationship. The whole story begins thirteen years ago.

My name is Han Xiaoming. I was born into an ordinary family in northern China. My father was in the building materials business and was away from home most of the time, spending less than ten months a year at a time. I spent most of my time with my mother. Thirteen years ago, in 2004, I was in my final year of junior high school, just after my 15th birthday.

My mother, Chen Hongyan, was 32 years old at the time. Unlike my father's ordinary appearance, my mother was a renowned beauty in the surrounding area when she was young. Because she was only 16 when she married into our family and took good care of herself, she didn't look over 32 at all. When my mother and I walked down the street, we were often mistaken for siblings, not mother and son.

Because my father was often away from home and their relationship was strained, I slept with my mother more often than my father. Of course, at that time, sleeping together was just sleeping; there were no other thoughts involved.

From as far back as I can remember, I slept with my mother until high school, when we started sleeping separately. Of course, I would often snuggle into her bed, especially since my father was away most of the time. My mother was lonely and liked having company, so she would usually just tease me a bit, laughing at how I was such a grown-up still sleeping with her, and then carefully tuck me in and hold me as we slept. (When I grew up to high school and college, I would sleep in my own room if my father came home, but whenever he wasn't home, I would definitely sleep with my mother.) Sleeping together naturally involved physical contact. It was common for me to rub my head against her breasts when I was nestled in her arms, and for my hands to rest on her back or stomach. But I was young at the time and didn't think too much about it. My mother probably just saw it as intimacy between mother and son and never stopped me.

Everything changed after my experience staying at my second uncle's house during the winter break of my third year of junior high.

My maternal grandparents' family is quite conservative, with many old feudal customs. For example, daughters can't stay at their parents' home during the Lunar New Year. My father couldn't come home for the New Year because of business, so my mother took me to my maternal grandparents' house. On New Year's Eve, my maternal grandparents settled my mother at my second uncle's house nearby, and I naturally went with her. My

second uncle's house wasn't big, with only one master bedroom and one side bedroom. My mother and I were arranged to sleep together in the side bedroom. When it was light, she was sitting up in bed putting on her underwear (my mother always only wears pajamas and underwear to bed). She looked down at me and said, "Mingming (my nickname, that's what relatives and friends usually call me), Mom is going to change her clothes." Having slept with my mother for so long, we were quite in sync. When I heard her say she was going to change her clothes, before she could tell me to turn to my side, I naturally turned my back to her. At that moment, I stared blankly at the wardrobe in front of me, my mind filled with thoughts of rushing back to the city to play Legend of Mir private server with my friends. My equipment had been stolen in Mengzhong a few days ago, and I needed to find my brothers to get revenge.

Lost in thought, I suddenly felt a tap on my head. Turning around in a daze, I saw my mother tilting her head and smiling at me, saying, "Oh, Mingming, you were peeking at Mom changing clothes!" Hearing this, I was completely bewildered. I hadn't done anything; my mind was completely focused on fighting monsters and killing people. I hadn't even considered peeking. How could

I have? "Mom, I didn't peek! Don't wrong me! I had my back turned, how could I see? There are no eyes on my butt!" Feeling wronged, I quickly turned around to explain.

"You still say you didn't see? Why are you staring so intently at the mirror?" Seeing my bewildered expression, my mother covered her mouth and teased me.

A mirror? What mirror?

Slowly regaining my senses, I looked around and noticed a large full-length mirror on the wardrobe behind me, reflecting my mother's figure sitting on the bed. For some reason, seeing my mother, whom I'd seen countless times before, now, seeing her soft face reflected in the mirror and her high breasts beneath her tight sweater, my penis suddenly stirred, quickly becoming erect.

"Mom, I didn't! I was just spacing out, thinking about going back to play with my classmates. I didn't even look at her, okay? And I only just noticed the mirror; I hadn't noticed it before." Although I was a little agitated, I hadn't actually peeked at her changing clothes, so I answered my mother confidently, my tone tinged with anger.

After saying that, I shrank back under the covers and mumbled to my mom, "I said I didn't see, and I didn't! Fine, if you don't believe me, I'll close my eyes and hide under the covers when you change clothes from now on, okay? I promise you won't see anything!" "Are you angry, little darling? Mom was just kidding. It's okay if you saw, don't hide under the covers, the air in there isn't good. Come out, be good." Seeing that I seemed really angry, my mom stopped teasing me and quickly coaxed me out.

But I still pretended to be angry and grumbled a few times under the covers until my mom got dressed and left the room before I crawled out.

"Damn, I'm suffocating!" Hearing my mom close the door, I quickly pulled off the covers, not caring about getting cold. I almost suffocated after being inside for a few minutes, but smelling my mom's sweet fragrance under the covers, my already swollen penis actually swelled up a bit more.

After the second child calmed down, I stopped sleeping in, got up, changed my clothes, and went out to have breakfast with my mother and my second uncle's family. Then I spent the day playing with my younger cousins before returning to the city.

That evening, I said goodbye to my mother and sneaked into an internet cafe. After playing a game for a while, I couldn't get into it anymore. I looked around and, seeing no one, secretly opened websites like Mayday. I looked at my old favorite campus-themed erotic novels and adult videos, but I couldn't get into them. Suddenly, a mother-son romance novel appeared in the recommendations on the right side of the website, and I clicked on it instantly, almost without thinking.

I'd read erotic novels about mothers and sons before, but I never really had any romantic feelings about them. Whenever I saw a mother-son scene in a erotic novel, I'd either skip it or close it immediately. But now, when I see scenes of mothers and sons having sex in novels, my face flushes slightly, and my penis becomes rapidly erect, pressing painfully against my jeans.

My mother's reflection in the mirror keeps flashing through my mind, and I feel a pang of regret. If I hadn't been lost in thought, would I have seen my mother changing clothes?

Chapter Two: Compensation

For the next ten days or so, I didn't sleep with my mother, not because she wrongly accused me and made me angry, but because my heart was still struggling.

I knew incest between mother and son was wrong, and I'd never been interested in it before, but after returning from my uncle's house, my mind was filled with images of my mother's prominent breasts in the mirror. The pornographic content I watch at internet cafes is no longer the same as before. Now, I can't help but click on any "mother-son" related stories. My penis gets engorged and I unconsciously project myself and my mother into the stories, imagining myself playing with my mother's breasts and thrusting my penis hard into her vagina. But after ejaculating, I feel very empty and guilty.

However, it was also a lucky break. I hadn't slept with my mother for several days, and she thought I was really angry with her, which led to this breakthrough.

My mother usually sells clothes in a shopping mall, but she's not doing it for the salary. She just does it to pass the time. One Friday after the New Year, my mother came home from work as usual and saw me lying on the sofa watching TV. She casually asked, "You little rascal, you're home watching TV right after school. Have you finished your homework?" "Don't rush, Mom. It's Friday. There are still two days of weekend. I'll do my homework tomorrow." I answered casually while lying on the sofa, but my eyes were fixed on my mother changing her shoes in the entryway.

My mother, wearing a beige knee-length business suit, leaned against the shoe cabinet, her left leg raised behind her, hooking the heel of her shoe with her left hand and pulling it up. Her toes, encased in black stockings, slid out of the pointed high heel with a light, playful movement. Looking at her firm, full buttocks beneath the tight suit, the red lace bra peeking out as she bent over, and her long, shapely legs in black stockings thanks to her 1.69-meter height, my penis once again involuntarily hardened.

After changing her shoes, my mother sat down beside me, looking at my lazy posture, and said, "Little darling, get up! Don't lie there watching TV, or you'll become cross-eyed and won't be able to find a girlfriend." She then snuggled closer to me, stretched, and, holding a cushion, said while watching TV, "Little darling, give Mommy a massage, my legs are killing me from standing all day." Then, she stretched out her black, jade-like legs and placed them on my knees.

When Mom was tired, she would always ask me to massage her feet and shoulders, so it was natural for her to extend her beautiful legs in front of me. But with wicked thoughts lurking in my mind, it was impossible for me to remain calm in front of Mom. Gazing at Mom's beautiful legs, my gaze gradually unfolded, from the toes hidden under the black stockings, to the slender and shapely calves and plump thighs, and then to the groin, where a hint of bright red was faintly visible deep within the black stockings.

My face flushed slightly, and my heart raced. I could almost feel the surging blood flowing from my heart to my penis. Stimulated by lust, my penis instantly swelled and became erect. If it weren't for the thin blanket covering me, I probably would have already given myself away.

"A foot massage is fine, but you'll have to pay later." With a guilty conscience, I naturally wouldn't refuse such a good opportunity, but I still teased Mom a few times to cover up my inner excitement.

Seeing that Mom had already laid out her legs and was leisurely watching TV on the sofa, I began to act as well.

I reached out and held my mother's soft toes, pretending to know nothing, and asked, "Mom, where does it hurt? Here? Here? Or here?" Before my mother could answer, my hands started kneading from her toes, brushing over her heels, calves, knees, and thighs. Because I felt guilty, I didn't dare to go any further, just kneading back and forth between her toes, calves, and thighs. My palms felt the warmth of my mother's soles, the touch of her black stockings, and the smoothness of her thighs. My heart started beating faster than usual.

After massaging me for about ten minutes, Mom noticed I was sweating slightly. Feeling sorry for me, she pulled her legs back, stood up, and hugged me tightly, showering me with kisses on the cheek. "My good baby, you've worked so hard. Here, Mom will reward you." "You think this is enough to get rid of me? Humph!"

Caught in Mom's arms, I buried my head between her breasts, closing my eyes and inhaling her sweet scent. After rubbing against her a few times, not content with just cheek kisses, I looked up, pouting and pretending to be angry

. To my surprise, Mom kissed me on the lips. I had only intended to be a little affectionate, never expecting Mom to spoil me like this. Luckily, I reacted quickly, retaliating with a hard kiss on the lips. Afterward, I still complained that Mom had stolen my first kiss and demanded money.

After playing around with my mom on the sofa for a while, I looked up and saw that the wall clock showed it was already 6:30. My mom quickly got up to go to the kitchen to make dinner. Before leaving, I pestered her to give me another kiss.

After dinner, my mom and I watched TV at home for a while before going out shopping. When we got home, it was already time for bed. After we both took a shower, I was already in bed getting ready to sleep when I heard my mom's voice from outside the door.

"Mingming, are you still angry? Come and sleep with Mom. You'll kick off the covers if you sleep alone. It's still a bit cold lately, so don't catch a cold." "I'm not angry at all."

Hearing me say that, my mom pushed open the door and sat down on the bed. My mom was wearing a pink nightgown and wasn't wearing a bra, so her two nipples were particularly noticeable. After taking off her stockings, her smooth thighs looked exceptionally white and shiny under the light, forming an arc of light from her calves to her thighs, piercing straight into my heart.

The early spring evening was still a bit chilly. My mother, wearing only a nightgown, sat down and then pulled the covers over herself, slipping into my bed and pulling me into her arms to comfort me, as if afraid I hadn't truly calmed down.

Of course, I wasn't angry; how could I be angry with my mother? But since anger brought such a perk, I certainly wouldn't let it pass me by. Nestled in my mother's arms, my forehead rested on her delicate collarbone, my nose completely immersed in her cleavage, each breath filled with the scent of her breasts. This stimulation caused my penis to become erect again, forcing me to arch my back to keep my lower body away from her, lest she discover my embarrassing situation. At the same time, my left hand reached behind her, embracing her and occasionally stroking her smooth back through her silk nightgown, while my right hand encircled her neck and hooked around her shoulder.

We chatted and played around in bed for a while longer. Seeing that my mood had returned to almost what it was before the New Year, my mother suggested that I come and sleep with her, as she felt cold sleeping alone. Of course, it was impossible for it to be cold while sleeping. Not only was the coldest time over, but Mom's room also had heating; it would be good enough if she didn't sweat while sleeping.

However, Mom wanted me to stay with her, and I had long wanted to sleep with her so we could be close. Of course, I wouldn't be foolish enough to call her out on her lie. So, with a reluctant expression, I agreed. Mom got up and went to the next bedroom, and I followed

her out of bed. We went to Mom's bedroom and lay down together. Exhausted from the day, I fell asleep quickly. I vaguely remembered Mom holding me in her arms before I fell asleep, just like when I was little, gently patting my back with one hand and stroking my head with the other to lull me to sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, the morning sunlight was already slanting into a corner of the bedroom. Mom and I were now close together. One shoulder strap of her pink nightgown had slipped slightly, revealing half of her left breast. Its smooth, round shape magnified before my eyes. My lips felt dry, and even swallowing became difficult. Looking at my mother's breasts, I really wanted to reach out and pull the straps of her nightgown down a little further, but reason told me I couldn't. Reason and desire were locked in a struggle. How I wished my mother would move even slightly, so her nightgown would slip down a bit more, allowing me a full glimpse of her breasts.

"Hmm..."

Hearing my mother's soft hum, I knew she was probably waking up soon. My thought of pulling down her bra strap vanished instantly, and even my erect penis shrank back down.

Seeing that I was already awake, my mother kissed my cheek. I was about to retaliate with a kiss on the lips, just like yesterday, but she stopped me, saying she hadn't brushed her teeth. She wouldn't let me kiss her on the lips. Having no other choice, I kissed her cheek instead. After chatting for a while, my mother got up to change.

Having slept with my mother for so many years, I knew her habits quite well. I knew from her subtle movements that she wanted to change. Before she could say anything, I turned over and buried my head in the covers. Strangely, this time my mother didn't tell me not to peek. She simply got up, took out the black lace bra from beside her pillow, unfolded it, and then pulled up the hem of her nightgown to take it off.

After Mom pulled her nightgown over her head and took it off, she turned around and realized that her son, who had been talking to her just moments before, had his head buried under the covers. She bent down, grabbed the edge of the blanket on my side, and pulled hard, trying to pull me out. For some reason, I just stubbornly held on to the blanket and wouldn't come out.

Mom, unable to get out, kept pulling the blanket, telling me not to be shy, that her son came from her body, and it was normal for him to see her body. But I still wouldn't listen. We stood there like that for a few minutes, until finally she gave up. She quickly changed her clothes, told me to get up and have breakfast, and then opened the bedroom door and left.

Even now, thinking back to that morning still makes me laugh. The image of my mother, her upper body bare, practically naked except for her underwear, her two C-cup breasts—the kind I'd always dreamed of seeing—exposed so clearly to the air, less than 20 centimeters above my head, and I, burying myself under the covers, completely ignored them for minutes. I was such an idiot.

It wasn't until my mother left the room and I pulled back the covers that I realized what a steamy scene had just unfolded. I immediately regretted it so much I wanted to bang my head against the wall. I truly felt like a fool for ignoring such a golden opportunity.

After a few minutes of regret, I calmed down. I thought, since my mother didn't ask me to leave while she was changing, and even said her body was okay for her son to see, did that mean I could see her changing every day from now on? Regardless of whether it would really be as she said, that she would openly show me her body, kissing her was already a huge breakthrough. As for her body, I could worry about that later; there would always be another chance.

After comforting myself for a while, I heard my mother urging me to get up and eat breakfast, so I stopped lingering in bed and started getting dressed.

Chapter 3:

After a few days of breastfeeding, my mother, as expected, no longer asked me to leave when she got up to change clothes. However, firstly, I was a little timid and felt guilty, so I didn't want to watch. Secondly, last time my mother pulled my blanket to make me watch her change clothes, I shrank back and didn't look. If I were to be eager to watch her change clothes again now, wouldn't that arouse her suspicion and make her discover that I had ulterior motives?

After enduring for several days, I finally thought of a way to break through.

One morning, after waking up, we chatted for a while as usual. While talking to my mother, I kept my eyes fixed on the clock on the table behind her. When I saw that there were only 2 minutes left until 7 o'clock, I decisively got up, told my mother that I needed to go to the toilet, and then threw off the blanket and went into the small bathroom in the bedroom.

As is my mother's usual routine, she would get up at 7 a.m. to prepare breakfast for me, and then we would leave together at 7:40 a.m., one going to work and the other to school.

Timed to the minute, I silently recited my Chinese textbook. This wasn't because I loved studying, but because I was thinking about my mother, just a door away, about to take off her nightgown and reveal her delicate breasts. Just thinking about it made my penis incredibly hard, and I couldn't urinate at all; I was almost driven mad with anxiety.

Fortunately, the Analects of Confucius was quite effective; after reciting it for a while, I calmed my agitated penis. After a satisfying release, I stood behind the bathroom door, slightly calming my heart, which was beating at over 120 miles per hour, and calmly pushed open the bathroom door and entered the bedroom.

"Thump!"

My heart, which had just slowed to 50 miles per hour, instantly accelerated to 180.

On the double bed, a voluptuous young woman was holding up the hem of her lace nightgown to her armpits, her pair of white breasts exposed to my view. Pretending to be calm, I naturally felt embarrassed to stare at my mother's beautiful breasts. I glanced at her high, firm breasts and bright red nipples with a hint of brown, then quickly slipped under the covers, wrapped my arms around her waist, pressed my cheek against her side, feeling the softness of her waistline, and snuggled against her affectionately.

When my mother saw me return from the bathroom, she was undressing and simply told me to get into bed quickly so I wouldn't catch a cold. Then, with a nonchalant expression, she took off her nightgown in front of me and put it aside, picking up a purple lace bra and putting it on, teasing me for still clinging to her like that at my age.

Lying there, I couldn't see a trace of shyness or embarrassment on her face; it was as if exposing her body to her son was perfectly normal. Perhaps it was true, as she said, that a son comes from his mother's body, and it's normal for a mother to show her body to her son.

Later, whenever I thought about the first time I saw my mother's breasts, I remembered a sentence I'd seen online: "A woman's body, once breached, faces no further obstacles."

In the days that followed, I would never close my eyes or turn around when my mother changed clothes. Instead, I would naturally lie down beside her, either hugging her waist affectionately or lying on her lap, stroking her back with both hands. Occasionally, when my mother couldn't fasten her bra hooks, I would get up and help her from behind, looking down at her two soft mounds of flesh, watching them become three-dimensional and shapely under the bra, creating a deep cleavage.

Two months passed in the blink of an eye, and the weather had already warmed up.

In early summer, after dinner, my mother and I sat on the sofa. My mother lay lazily to one side, hugging a pillow, with her legs draped over my lap, asking me to massage her. Naturally, I was quite diligent in taking advantage of this free benefit. I

quickly reached out and grasped my mother's toes, pressing and kneading them firmly with my thumbs, carefully feeling the smoothness of her skin and the delicate softness of her soles. Then, I moved my wrists, sliding my hands from the soles of her feet to her heels, calves, and thighs, kneading all the way up and down. After massaging for over ten minutes, Mom noticed the sweat on my forehead and quickly bent down to wipe it away, giving me a long kiss on the lips as a reward.

Afterward, worried that my legs were still pressing against me and making me uncomfortable, Mom tried to pull them back, but I pressed them down, saying, "Just leave them there, they're not heavy. I can still massage them for you."

Hearing this, Mom stopped insisting, leaving her legs on me before turning to watch TV.

At first, I focused on massaging Mom's beautiful legs, but seeing how engrossed she was in TV, my hands started to caress them, running my fingers over her flesh-colored, sheer stockings like playing the piano, sliding from her toes to the depths of her thighs and back again.

Of course, I knew that further in was Mom's vulva, the gateway to life hidden beneath her purple slip dress. With a gentle pull aside her blue, semi-transparent lace panties, the door would be flung open.

However, of course I wouldn't dare. Don't assume that because my relationship with my mother is so close, and she spoils me so much, I can get whatever I want. That's not the case at all. My father has never hit me, but I've received more beatings from my mother than anyone else. Because I was quite mischievous as a child, and my father was often away from home, my mother was very strict with me in order to ensure my success. If I made a mistake, I was guaranteed a beating and a scolding. Therefore, I'm still somewhat afraid of my mother.

Because my mother wore stockings, when she touched her thighs, the lace trim would often curl up. Discovering this, I felt like I'd found a new and exciting toy. I'd rub my hands against the lace trim of her stockings, kneading it like a rolling pin, watching the trim thicken and thin in my hands.

Seeing me playing with her stockings like this, my mother just looked up and smiled indulgently. Seeing that she didn't react or get angry, I grinned back and continued playing with her beautiful legs and stockings. (Don't be envious, dear readers, you can do it too, as long as your mom doesn't slap you when you touch your legs, haha).

A few days later, on a Sunday afternoon, my mother and I were taking a nap in bed. Snuggled in her arms, I closed my eyes and restlessly rubbed against her chest, constantly smelling the fragrance and soft touch of her breasts. As I rubbed against her, my mouth accidentally touched a round protrusion. Perhaps it was a son's instinct, but without hesitation, I opened my mouth and took it in, sucking hard with my tongue and mouth, just like I had done more than ten years ago.

"You little rascal, how old are you to still be stealing your mother's milk? You want it that badly?" My mother looked at me mischievously, tapping my forehead with her finger. Only then did I realize how daring I had just done—I had actually started sucking on my mother's nipple! Before, I could only look, but I never dared to touch my mother's breasts. Now, I had actually taken it in my mouth.

At that moment, I suddenly recalled the fear of being dominated by my mother, and my face turned pale with fright.

But when I opened my eyes, I found that my mother wasn't angry. Instead, she just looked at me mischievously, not even moving her mouth that was sucking on her nipple. She let me continue, and the hand that had poked my forehead turned into a stroking of my cheek.

At that moment, my courage surged. Since Mom wasn't angry and her nipple was still in my mouth, what did that mean? It meant she at least tacitly approved.

I closed my eyes, placed my left hand on Mom's waist, and pulled up the hem of her nightgown, making soft, coquettish noises. Because Mom was lying on her side, the nightgown wouldn't budge halfway up. In my anxiety, I sucked on Mom's nipple even harder, my coquettish noises growing louder.

Seeing my shameless, coquettish behavior, Mom paused slightly, then used her left arm to lift her body slightly. The nightgown, which had been stuck, suddenly loosened. I then reached out with my right hand and grabbed the other side of the nightgown, pushing it up with both hands. Instantly, two smooth, full breasts appeared less than 5 centimeters away from me.

I had no time to examine my mother's breasts closely. Like a hungry baby, I opened my mouth and took her breast in, my tongue curling around her nipple and sucking incessantly. My left hand didn't stop either, naturally grasping her other breast, my thumb pressing and kneading the nipple while my palm gripped the breast tightly. My mother's breast changed shape constantly in my hands, the soft touch causing my penis to quickly become engorged, as if it were about to explode.

"Little baby, be gentle. Mom is over thirty, my breasts are empty, there's no milk. You can't suck anything out," my mother said softly, her brows slightly furrowed as if I was sucking too hard. But I was consumed by lust and didn't listen. Instead, I curled my tongue around her nipple and sucked even harder. Helpless, my mother could only hug me tightly, giving me a loving look before letting me suckle.

I don't know how long I nursed, but I eventually fell asleep in my mother's arms, being soothed to sleep while nursing. This kind of treatment I received as a two-year-old was something I reliveed when I was fifteen, and it was incredibly enjoyable.

In the years that followed, whenever I slept with my mother, even if relatives were around (once I visited my maternal grandparents' house and slept there while my grandparents slept in the next room, and I still touched her breasts and nursed; she never refused me), I would snuggle into my mother's arms to nurse, my hands roaming all over her body. Except for her vulva, which I dared not touch, I could play with the rest of her body as I pleased. When I was tired and had enough to nurse, I would sleep. Life was truly blissful.

Chapter Four: Kissing and Rejection

After dinner, my mother and I sat on the sofa watching TV. TV didn't really matter to me; there wasn't anything interesting. However, seeing my mother beside me, I patiently watched with her.

The main reason was that Mom's outfit today was too alluring. For some reason, she was wearing ultra-thin, seamless purple stockings, and she hadn't taken them off when she changed clothes after getting home. Now she was only wearing a black silk slip dress, a pair of purple stockings, and a beige transparent lace pantyhose underneath.

Following the purple stockings, my gaze traveled up Mom's jade-like legs. Because the stockings were seamless, her crotch was completely exposed. Through the stockings and pantyhose, I could vaguely see a dark clump.

I was already bored watching TV, but now my lust was aroused again. I wrapped my arms around Mom's waist and snuggled into her arms, acting coquettishly. She turned her head and kissed my cheek, then pulled me closer before going back to watching her Korean drama.

Seeing that she was engrossed in the TV drama and didn't pay attention to me, I became bolder. First, I lifted the corner of my mother's nightgown and pulled it under her armpit. Then, I took one nipple into my mouth and started sucking. Of course, my other hand wasn't idle either. I slipped it inside her nightgown and moved upwards, grasping her other breast and kneading it, occasionally rubbing her nipple with my fingers.

"You little rascal, can't you even stop watching TV for a moment? If you want to nurse, go find your wife. You can nurse every day after she has a baby. Your old mom doesn't have any milk." Feeling her breasts being attacked, my mother quickly reached out and pulled my ear, not very hard. Seeing that I ignored her and continued to nurse, even snuggling closer to her and making coquettish humming sounds, my mother could only shake her head helplessly and let me do as I pleased.

After nursing for a while, I was satisfied and took off my mother's nightgown. I put my left hand under her legs, wrapped my right arm around her back, and pulled her onto my lap. Then, with an innocent pout, I leaned in to kiss her. Seeing my shameless act, my mother had no choice but to nudge my head and then lean down to kiss me.

"Are you done yet, my little darling? Put Mom down, Mom's watching TV." Seeing my mother's reproachful look, I chuckled a few times and shamelessly kissed her again. Just then, the Korean drama on TV showed a scene of the male and female leads kissing passionately.

Remembering what I'd learned from erotic novels and Baidu, I said to my mom, "Mom, open your teeth a little. Look at how they kiss in Korean dramas, let me teach you." Here's some background: my mom grew up in the countryside and married my dad when she was 16. The conservative rural life and my dad's lack of romance meant she knew almost nothing about sex or flirting. Plus, their relationship was terrible. Even though my dad wasn't always away, they didn't have much sex after I was born. So, my mom's impression of kissing was limited to lips touching; she'd never even heard of French kissing.

However, my mom and I have one thing in common: a strong curiosity. We're willing to try anything new, as long as it's not too unacceptable. Like when we went to Yunnan, other women probably wouldn't even look at fried insects, but my mom insisted I buy a skewer to try. Although it turned out to be awful, she still drags me along to try these kinds of strange things in the future.

So when I suggested teaching her how to kiss, Mom looked puzzled, not understanding what was so special about kissing, but she obediently opened her mouth. Seeing her release her grip, a smug smile spread across my face, and I quickly extended my tongue, invading her mouth.

Mom, not understanding why her son was putting his tongue in her mouth, wore a strange expression, but also seemed both curious and afraid of biting my tongue, so she could only let me continue my invasion.

In no time, I found my mother's tongue in the corner. Following the advice I'd learned from Baidu, I hooked my tongue around hers, and the two tongues intertwined and swirled like loaches in a field. Then I sucked on her tongue and pulled it into my mouth. The only sounds in the empty living room were the dialogue from the TV show and the soft, intimate sounds of our tongues sucking and exchanging saliva.

We kissed for about ten minutes. Seeing my mother's face flushed, her legs crossed and rubbing together, looking like she couldn't breathe, I finally released her, letting her breathe freely.

"You little rascal, where did you learn all this stuff?" My mother, having recovered, scolded me as she straightened her stockings and nightgown, which I had messed up. But seeing her flushed face and shy expression, she didn't seem angry at all, so I didn't take it to heart. I snuggled into her arms, rubbing my head against her chest affectionately. Seeing this, my mother couldn't do anything about it. After straightening my clothes, she went back to her bedroom, saying it was too hot and she wanted to take a shower, not wanting to watch TV anymore.

After showering, I watched TV for a while before returning to my mother's bedroom. I snuggled up next to her, and one hand naturally slipped under her nightgown, stroking her waistline. My mother affectionately patted my head, chatted with me for a while, and then prepared to turn off the lights and go to sleep. With

the lights off, except for a few rays of light seeping through the curtains in one corner of the bedroom, the entire room was plunged into darkness. The dim environment, like being drunk, emboldened me.

Not content with merely stroking my mother's side, I reached over her waist and slipped my hand behind her back, pulling her into a side-lying position. I then huddled between her breasts, my other hand searching for her abdomen, finding the hem of her nightgown and pulling it up. Sensing my movement, my mother instinctively lifted her upper body slightly, allowing me to push the nightgown up to just below her collarbone.

I gently licked her nipple with my tongue, feeling her body tremble slightly. Then, I took her nipple into my mouth, pressing and sucking forcefully. Her delicate nipple quickly swelled and hardened in my mouth, becoming engorged to the size of a peanut. Meanwhile, the hand that had been stroking her back had already moved down to her buttocks, which were covered by her lace panties. I lifted one of her thighs towards me, and she obediently lifted her leg, guiding it to rest on my side.

And so, I suckled on my mother's breasts while caressing her, from top to bottom, from her back to her thighs, my gentle hands roaming all over her body. When I got tired of nursing, I leaned over and hugged her, continuing our kissing game from the sofa. After nearly half an hour of this, my mother gently pulled me into her arms and told me it was late and I needed to sleep because I had class the next day. I released my mouth from her nipple and kissed her in agreement.

But could I really let my mother go so easily? Of course not.

After successfully French kissing my mother tonight, my confidence had swelled to an extreme, and I felt I could start conquering her final base.

After lying quietly for a while, I pretended to be about to fall asleep, humming in my sleep, and rolled onto my mother's neck. My right hand naturally reached up to her buttocks, then gently slid down to her inner thighs, slipping between her legs, my fingers only centimeters away from her genitals.

After a few quiet seconds, and seeing that my mother didn't move, I grew bolder. I raised my right hand, pretending to scratch an itch, then pulled it back and scratched my own leg a few times before placing my hand back on my mother's groin. Now, after my earlier probing, I naturally wasn't satisfied with just placing my hand on my mother's leg.

My right hand slowly slid down, caressing my mother's lace mesh panties, from her buttocks to her pelvis, finally landing on the gate of life, the final forbidden zone, my mother's vulva.

As my right hand slid down, my heart pounded faster and faster, feeling like it was about to leap out of my chest; even my brain was filled with the thumping of my heart. But when my hand covered my mother's vulva, not only my heart, but even my breath stopped for a few seconds.

This might be the longest period of time I've experienced in my 15 years.

Several seconds passed, and my mother still didn't move. I was certain that my mother wasn't asleep. So, she didn't stop me from placing my hand on her vulva? Was it tacit consent? Or did she think I was asleep, and it was an unintentional mistake?

Having just won a series of victories, my mind was swelled with confidence. I naturally assumed my mother's consent, without considering the possibility of failure.

My right hand covered my mother's genitals through her panties. The thin mesh panties couldn't prevent me from feeling the softness of her vulva. My hand touched a small patch of dampness in her crotch area. Having read so many pornographic videos and erotic novels, I knew this was probably her vaginal fluid.

After half an hour of her son licking her breasts and kissing her, even a rock would be wet, let alone a thirty-year-old woman deprived of lubrication for years.

Touching this dampness, I felt a signal to attack, a sense that I was about to reach the other side. My right middle finger bent, the pad and tip gently rubbing along the groove between my mother's labia. Feeling the softness of her lips through her panties, my right hand almost spasmed.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my right wrist.

From the strength of that hand, I knew my mother was serious.

God knows how terrified I was. My heart and breathing stopped, and even my previously engorged penis instantly shrank. If I hadn't masturbated in the bathroom the next day, I would have thought I'd become impotent from the shock.

The clock by the bed ticked away. A few seconds later, instead of the expected torrent of abuse or even a slap, my mother simply removed my right hand from my vulva and placed it on her breast.

I wasn't sure if she knew I was faking sleep, but her actions clearly conveyed the message: her breasts belonged to her son; she could touch them, but her vulva was absolutely off-limits.

I endured this for over an hour, my heart pounding with anxiety, before finally drifting off to sleep.

This setback dealt a heavy blow to my previously inflated confidence. I realized that my mother's previous indulgence stemmed from love or even spoiling, but it wasn't time to breach her final defenses.

Fortunately, in the following days, my mother remained the same as before, endlessly tolerant and doting on me, which helped restore some of my shaken confidence. I also very dutifully helped my mother with housework at home and showed her great care. After a period of effort, we finally managed to restore the close relationship between mother and son to what it was like before that night.

[The End]

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