[The incestuous relationship between the aunt and uncle] (12)

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Chapter Twelve: 　　Excitement

and anger swirled within me, the thrill of voyeurism and the anxiety of worry sending
my hormones soaring.

Although it was already past nine, there were still some students and teachers coming and going, especially at the school gate. The dean
didn't dare be too presumptuous, politely keeping his distance from my mother and declaring that ladies should go first, letting her go first.

Our office building had a side door at the end of the corridor. I wanted to sneak in through the side door, run to the third floor, and
secure a good observation position. However, the moment I gently opened the door, my phone suddenly rang. Damn it,
how could I forget to silence my phone at such an important moment? I quickly stepped back out of the door, pulled out my phone, and saw it was
my aunt calling.

She sounded a little annoyed, implying that I hadn't replied to her WeChat messages, and that she had brought several bags of
things and wanted me to come downstairs to pick her up. In this extremely urgent situation, I didn't have time to say much, telling her
to go upstairs herself, saying I was waiting for my mother at school. My aunt wouldn't let it go, saying that picking someone
up deal, why were they acting so suspiciously just to make a phone call? Seeing she wasn't going to let it go, I quickly
gave her a brief summary of the story. My aunt seemed to pause for a moment on the other end of the line, then let out a mischievous giggle .
She told me to hurry upstairs and rescue them, and that she'd message me if anything happened.

I muted my phone and went into the building. The first floor was quiet; I figured they'd already gone up
in the elevator . I rushed up the fire escape to the third floor, just in time to see the light
on in the dean's office. As I walked, I checked my messages. The first one my aunt sent was, "Don't just barge in!
Give them a way out, preferably a diversionary tactic! Very important! Very important! Very important!"

The dean's actual office wasn't fully finished yet; a document had just been issued before the holidays with new
regulations , and the original office exceeded the limit. However, it wasn't his fault; he'd only started working before the summer break. I
was in charge of this renovation project, and I demolished about a meter, less than two meters, of wall to rebuild it. Now he's temporarily working in the large conference
room, separated by a screen. One side is his temporary office area, and the other is the conference room area. Everyone's generally avoiding holding meetings in this conference room
now . This side of the conference room connects to my temporary office,
but the biggest problem is that every time I leave, I lock the door from his side.

I tiptoed into my office, afraid to turn on the light, and walked to the screen door. Oh no, the
doorknob wouldn't turn; it was really locked. Damn it, I couldn't help but regret being so dedicated; now I'm reaping what I sowed
. I did what they do in the movies: I placed a teacup on the door and listened for any sounds. Because of the long conference area in between
, the sounds were extremely faint; I couldn't even tell who was speaking, let
alone .

Just then, the dean's office door suddenly opened, the sound amplified in the quiet environment. I held my breath
and listened at my own doorway; the footsteps gradually receded. I opened my door and peeked out. It turned out the dean was helping my
mother to the restroom. In the light of the motion-activated hallway light, I could see the dean's hand holding my mother's upper arm,
his other hand on her waist. My mother's steps were unsteady, but she resolutely tried to push away the dean's hand on her waist,
murmuring something. The dean gently comforted her, but wouldn't let go, and the two walked further and further away.

I quickly retreated back into my room, thinking this was a godsend. I swiftly opened a drawer, found
the key to the partition door, thinking how lucky they were to have left, otherwise the clinking of the key would have been noticed. After opening the door, I
tiptoed into the half with the conference table. Hiding behind the screen, I took out my phone and confirmed it was
silent.

The dean returned quickly, alone, like a darting rabbit. Peeking through the screen, his face was full of
excitement. He grabbed two tissues from the table and dashed out again. I suddenly remembered doing the same for
my aunt instantly understood the implication. Even a female editor needs tissues, and I couldn't help but curse him inwardly as a pervert.
I quickly checked my WeChat. My aunt had texted, "I've already called a car and am on my way."
I replied, "Wait for me at the parking lot when you arrive, and let me know on WeChat." My aunt replied, "Think carefully about what to do,
and don't do anything rash." I calmed myself down, and an idea slowly formed in my mind.

My mother and the dean returned one after the other. The gap in the screen faced the sofa directly. Speaking of which, that
sofa was really wide and large. I had suggested putting a bed for the dean in his office, but he thought
it was too unsightly to have no privacy, so I only bought a large sofa so he could lie down and take a
nap . As we spoke, my mother was already seated on the sofa. Her face was slightly flushed, probably from the alcohol, but she still
sat upright , silently gazing at the tea set in front of her. The dean closed the door, subtly locking it,
then walked over with a grin, sat down next to my mother, and began boiling water to prepare tea. My mother shifted her
position slightly, making room for him.

I saw the dean rummaging through the tea leaves while saying in a suggestive tone, "I'm sorry
, Sister Juan, it's my fault. I didn't think to bring a piece of paper over." Even through the screen, I could see the lecherous
look .

My mother's face flushed instantly, as if she had thought of something and felt a little shy, but she quickly regained her composure,
flicked her hair, and picked up a teacup, pretending to play with it.

"This entire tea set and tea were bought for me by Xiao Yi. As expected of your son, his taste is excellent."
Even someone as clueless as me knew that the dean's words were a slip of the tongue in his flattery, and I almost burst out laughing.

Sure enough, my mother's face stiffened. She said it was too late, and Xiao Yi was worried he'd come to pick me up. She said she'd just have a few sips of water and leave, and
I didn't need to go to all that trouble.

I could sense the director's panic. He just kept saying, "Almost done, almost done. A little tea will
help with the ." I saw him pouring tea for my mother, and then the aroma of chrysanthemum and pu-erh tea filled the room.

My mother picked up the small cup and drank it all in one gulp, saying, "Southerners drink tea in cups the size of wine glasses. It's so difficult to drink
."

The director nodded first, saying, "You're right, but that's precisely the charm of tea ceremony. Drinking tea
here isn't just about quenching thirst; it's mainly about savoring and appreciating it." Then he pretended to smell the teapot lid,
a lewd, intoxicated expression on his face.

My mother didn't respond, but just thoughtfully drank her tea, but noticeably slower than with the first cup.

As an observer, I suddenly felt the atmosphere was getting increasingly awkward, and I started to
wonder how one could break the ice in this situation.

"This tea tastes pretty good," my mother said, putting down her teacup, seemingly making conversation.

"The important thing is enjoying tea with a beauty like Sister Juan; that's a true blessing in life," the dean said,
his gaze fixed unabashedly on my mother.

My mother's expression was complicated. She fumbled to pour tea from the bowl, but this required skill
, and she immediately burned herself. I heard the dean's gasp and her scream simultaneously.

With lightning speed, I'd never seen anything like it, the dean grabbed my mother's burned finger and brought it to his face
to examine . Unfortunately, I was too far away to see the extent of the burn.

Next, the dean put my mother's finger in his mouth.

My mother's face turned bright red, and she desperately tried to pull her finger out, but the dean wouldn't let go. Less than a minute
later , the dean released her, saying, "Your finger is beautiful."

My mother's hand was tightly gripped by the director. She said shyly and softly, "I'm fine, you can let go."

Without hesitation, the director turned and pulled my mother into his arms. My mother initially struggled, but her resistance
lessened.

The director kept praising my mother, repeatedly saying how much he loved her. My mother's breathing
became heavy, and she didn't know where to put her hands; one hand was on the back of the sofa, the other on her
leg .

The director released my mother, placed his left hand on her right hand on her leg, and then desperately searched for her
lips , wanting to kiss her.

My mother desperately turned her head away, refusing. The director couldn't resist, so he kissed her face, ears, and neck relentlessly. My
mother's eyes were tightly closed, her chest heaving rapidly, her hands weakly pushing against the director's chest.

The director's hand on her leg suddenly moved to my mother's waist. I noticed my mother's body tremble, and
her hands stopped resisting.

The director slipped his hand inside my mother's clothes, reaching down to her bra. I could see
the rise and fall of her breasts through her coat as he caressed them. I saw my mother suppressing her pleasure,
letting out a soft moan.

Encouraged, the director pulled my mother close, making her sit sideways on his lap.

My mother's face flushed red, and she whispered, "No."

Seemingly pleased with his progress, the director quickly unbuttoned my mother's coat, lifting her thin
vest to reveal her light green lace bra. The bra's material was very thin,
tightly hugging my mother's round, full, and almost spilling white breasts.

The dean teased my mother, asking, "Do you want some?" My mother, with her eyes closed, resolutely shook her head, "No."

Without any hesitation, the dean pushed up my mother's bra, and two large, white, steamed-moon-like breasts sprang out , trembling precariously on her chest .
On the light brown areolas, the tender, rosy nipples quivered shyly with my mother's breath. This was the first time in my memory that I had seen my mother's breasts so clearly from the front. The beauty of my mother's breasts instantly surpassed all other ordinary women in the world. In that instant, I felt as if fireworks had exploded , and my crotch uncontrollably hardened. But this brought up another question, a shocking question: why was the elasticity and shape of her breasts the same as Xiaowei's, but so different from those of my aunt who had breastfed? Had I actually tasted my mother's milk? The dean was also stunned by the beauty of my mother's breasts. He frantically kneaded one of and took the nipple of my mother's other breast into his mouth, sucking greedily. The intense stimulation from her breasts ignited my mother's desire. She began to moan and groan unconsciously, her head thrown back. Perhaps for balance, she began to wrap her arms around the director's neck. Encouraged by my mother's reaction, the director turned her into a shameful position, straddling his lap, and frantically licked and teased her breasts and nipples with his lips and tongue. However, I couldn't see my mother's front in this position, only her side back and the bulging side of one breast. With his mouth and tongue working together, I could even see from the side that my mother's nipple seemed to be stretching forward, standing erect. The director's hands began to caress my mother's beautiful buttocks very naturally, first lifting her short skirt through her stockings and panties, and later even reaching his hand inside her panties. I could see him squeezing my mother's plump, white buttocks hard. My mother's moans grew louder, and her body twisted and trembled restlessly. I saw a blush creeping up the back of her swan-like, elegant neck, and even with my limited sexual experience, I could feel her desire and rising lust. The director asked my mother for a kiss, but she shook her head with great difficulty and restraint, refusing. I noticed that my mother seemed to be losing strength; as the director's tongue and hands continued their assault, she gasped for breath, collapsing onto him , her legs clenching tightly together. I saw a barely perceptible smile appear on the director's face, as if the initial tension and awkwardness had vanished. He calmly unhooked my mother's bra, removed her coat, and pulled her vest over her head, leaving her completely naked from the waist up. My mother could only mumble breathlessly, "No." The director lowered my mother from his lap; she seemed limp, as if boneless, repeatedly saying, "I feel like I have no strength left." He laid her flat on the sofa. Her pair of white, tender breasts stood erect like two small mountains, their cherry-like nipples standing high, as if proclaiming their desire. The director's hands began to caress my mother's thighs, from her knees upwards, pausing at her thighs for repeated caresses. My mother instinctively tried to press down on the hem of her skirt, but to no avail; the director's hands easily slipped and disappeared deep into her thighs. My mother's body suddenly stiffened, and she let out an uncontrollable groan. She frantically tried to block the director's groping hands, but he easily shook them off. The director lifted my mother's skirt to her waist, revealing her full lower body. My mother seemed almost asleep, weakly trying to stop the director's hands from peeling off her stockings, but to no avail. The director's hand moved down from her underwear. My mother's face and chest were already as red as boiled shrimp. She desperately held onto the edge of her underwear, but couldn't stop the director from slipping his hand inside.

The dean's hand gripped my mother's full, high mons pubis and pubic bone very tightly. Judging from the
muscular , his fingers were likely caressing my mother's secret garden.

My mother's body twisted desperately, her entire waist heaving and trembling. Her hair, damp with sweat,
clung to her face, and her head shook incessantly, unconsciously saying, "No, no."

The dean's hand stopped. He withdrew his hand from between my mother's legs, the wetness on his fingers seemingly a
testament to her desire.

The dean brought his hand close to my mother's face and said lewdly, "You say no, no, but down there you're saying yes,
yes."

My mother closed her eyes, tilted her head, and gasped, "Really, no more. Let's stop here. I
have no strength left."

The dean brought his mouth close to my mother's ear and said, "You're all wet down there, and you just say no?"

My mother bit her lip and remained silent.

The dean, smugly, grabbed my mother's underwear by the sides and pulled it down. My mother quickly tried to
stop him, but her resistance was surprisingly weak. The dean
pulled her underwear down to her knees with almost no effort.

A neat and thick patch of pubic hair came into view.

The dean began to unbuckle his belt and pull down his own pants. My hands were tightly gripping my phone, sweating
profusely.

The dean stood beside my mother, his lower body erect, and gently stroked her genitals with one hand. My mother kept
her legs preventing him from reaching inside. The dean seemed unconcerned; he took one of my mother's delicate white hands and
guided it towards his crotch.

My mother seemed unconscious, only murmuring, "I need to use the restroom."

I couldn't wait any longer. I tiptoed back through the half-open partition to my office, then
hid behind a large filing cabinet. I took out my phone; my heart was pounding. Even though I was away from the
two walls, I was still extremely nervous. I picked up my phone, but hesitated for a second before dialing. I
thought for , then used my mother's phone to call the dean. Years later, I've always been proud of my quick thinking;
it was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

The call connected quickly, and I heard the dean's surprised voice, as if talking to himself, "How could it
be your number?"

I later suspected he would regret answering the phone so casually for the rest of his life. If I had used
my own phone, he could have calmly hung up without my mother's knowledge. But seeing it was my mother's number, probably
driven by lust and alcohol, he answered instinctively in his surprise.

I said casually, "Dean, this is Xiao Yi. Is my mother with you?"

The dean seemed flustered, saying, "Yes, yes, your mother is drunk. I'm giving her some water
to sober single misstep that led to another, and now he was beyond saving.

I breathed a sigh of relief. All the countless scenarios I'd imagined he'd lied about were irrelevant now; in his panic, he
'd spilled the beans. Deep down, I felt a pang of contempt—this was a fake seasoned driver, after all.

Knowing that too much talk leads to mistakes, I feigned surprise and said, "Really? No wonder. I'm already in the school parking lot.
Let me come up and help her."

The dean was practically in a panic. He immediately replied, "No need, I'll take her down right away." Then, as if
realizing something was amiss, he added, "If you get there, just come up." I replied that I'd parked immediately and would
be there in about five minutes, then hung up.

Even through two rooms, I could hear a huge crashing sound from the dean's room. I couldn't tell if he'd
knocked over a chair or a table; I figured he was probably frantically dressing my mother.

I checked my WeChat—it was full of my aunt's harsh criticism. She'd completely seen through my little scheme of spying from inside
. I texted her to wait for me in the parking lot.

I swaggered out of my room. The hallway lights were all on from the shock, and I figured the dean
was too busy to care about anything else. I slowly descended the stairs to the first floor, walked to the parking lot behind the building, lit
a cigarette, and stared blankly at the lights upstairs.

My aunt gracefully walked over; even in the darkness, her alluring figure was visible. I
openly admired her gait and figure. My aunt poked me, saying, "You're blinded by lust, you
know that?"

I smiled and remained silent. In that instant, I realized that women are, after all, subservient. I'd slept
with her, so I felt completely open and at ease in her presence, without any shyness.

My aunt hooked her arm around mine and quietly asked, "What's going on?" I flicked my cigarette ash and said, "Just some hugging and
cuddling, not even a kiss."

My aunt pinched me again, saying, "What nonsense are you talking about? It took you so long to just hug and cuddle?" I scratched my head and said, "
Well, it didn't go that far." My aunt fell silent, looking thoughtful.

I stubbed out my cigarette and said to my aunt, "That's enough, let's go upstairs."

The director opened the door for us with a beaming smile. I sniffed, trying not to attract attention; thankfully,
there unpleasant smell. The director's posture was a bit odd. I glanced at him and noticed that something
seemed to still be inside his pants, which made me somewhat suspicious. My aunt seemed to notice this as well. She
frowned , nodded to the director, and went straight to my mother on the sofa.

My mother was indeed slumped on the sofa like she was completely drunk, fully dressed, but I noticed that
her bra was a little crooked and the side of her skirt seemed a bit off. Considering that the director would only
be manipulating someone who was almost completely unconscious for a few minutes, this was quite commendable. My aunt and I
helped my mother up, one on each side, and we walked out, with the director following behind, carrying my mother's handbag and a box of some unknown substance
.

Getting my mother into the car was a bit difficult, as she seemed completely unconscious. My aunt gently patted
her flushed face and softly called out, "Third Sister, Third Sister," but my mother only responded with groans or moans. We had no choice but
to grit and roughly lift her into the back seat.

The director, seemingly concerned, said, "I'm so sorry, we were with our comrades and drank a bit too much.
They're all quite drunk; I just saw them off." I politely said goodbye to the director and asked him to go back. The director
left reluctantly.

My aunt got into the driver's seat herself. I opened the passenger door to get in, but then my aunt... *plop*...
She tossed her bag and a bottle of water onto the passenger seat, her almond-shaped eyes wide, and said, "You quickly sit in the back and support your mom, otherwise she
'll roll onto the floor." I awkwardly closed the door and squeezed into the back.

I helped my mom sit up, but she leaned her head on my shoulder. I asked my aunt worriedly, "Auntie,
is my mom going to throw up?" My aunt coldly replied, "Smell how strong the smell of alcohol is on your mom?" I sniffed it,
and it didn't seem strong at all; given my mom's condition, this amount of alcohol seemed like nothing. Seeing my confused
look, my aunt sighed, "I'll explain later. Anyway, your mom won't throw up, don't worry."

My aunt started the car and turned on the headlights. Now, we were the only car in the parking area, which felt a little
eerie. Suddenly, my mom grabbed my collar and said, "Wait a minute, I need to use the restroom." I said to my mom, "
Mom, can we go home?" My mom shook her head and said, "No, no, I'm about to pee." This gave me
a headache. Given my mom's condition, going back to the bathroom would require carrying her back and forth, which I could manage, but my
aunt probably wouldn't have the strength. My aunt got out of the car, closed the door, and opened the door on my mom's side. She said to me, "
Are you stupid? There's a lawn right below. Hurry up and get your mom out. She can just pee here; she can't
walk far like this."

We hurriedly helped my mom out, settling her to the side facing away from the road and making her squat against the car.
My mom struggled to take off her clothes herself, but seemed completely powerless. My aunt looked at me with a half-smile and
said, "What are you standing there for? Hurry up and help!" I quickly squatted down next to my mom and started pulling down her skirt. My aunt
spoke , "You're so stupid! Why are you taking off your skirt? Just lift it up. You have to take off what's underneath!" I
said "Oh," and reached inside the skirt, forcefully pulling down my mom's stockings and underwear.

This was the first time I'd ever touched my mom's smooth, fleshy buttocks; the feel was absolutely incomparable.
When her underwear came off, I could feel a warm rush of heat emanating from her genitals, and a small patch of her underwear was wet. I inadvertently
touched her lower body; it was already soaking wet, but she seemed oblivious. My aunt saw everything,
covered her mouth, and laughed, saying, "You're even touching your own mom!" I quickly freed my hands, supporting my mom's upper body, and
said to my aunt with a hint of resentment, "Shouldn't a woman help with this?" My aunt rolled her eyes and said, "
Of course, ; outsiders have no say.

" My mom needed to urinate urgently, making a loud swishing sound on the lawn. Her face flushed red with embarrassment, but
she kept her eyes closed avoiding eye contact. My aunt seemed to remember something, ran to the car, grabbed two tissues, and handed them to me with a smile
, saying, "Here, take this." I immediately thought of my mom using the bathroom in the building and couldn't help feeling a little
embarrassed . My aunt kept looking at her phone, urging me to hurry up. Seeing my mother's hands gripping me tightly
, I could only tremble as I reached for the tissues, vigorously wiping the urine and
discharge . Feeling like I didn't have enough tissues, I looked to my aunt for help, but she ignored me, helping me lift
my mother up, laughing as she said, "That's enough, the way you're wiping, it'll just make it wetter." My aunt quickly
pulled up my mother's underwear and stockings, straightened them, and helped her back to the car.

On the way home, my mother simply lay her upper body on my lap, the blush on her face never fading,
intermittently emitting moans and groans. I held her upright, gently patting her
shoulder. My aunt said from the front, "I'll just drive, you do what you're supposed to do for your mother." My mother's
moans and groans continued, her body constantly twisting, as if she was in great discomfort. A little worried, I asked
my aunt, "Is Mom sick or something? You said she wasn't drunk, but she looks so uncomfortable." My
aunt was silent for a moment, then said, "If I'm not mistaken, your mom's like this, she's probably been drugged.

" I blurted out, "Damn it!" My aunt snorted, "You have no right to say 'damn it.' Judging by the look of it, the drug
was just given. If you hadn't been so reckless, your mom wouldn't be suffering like this." I was speechless, and
after a pause , I cautiously asked, "Is there any way to stop this?" My aunt said, "Just keep writhing and
twisting around like this for half the night or a whole night." Now I was really worried. If my mom went back and lay next to my grandma,
writhing and twisting all night, wouldn't that scare the old lady to death?

The car stopped at a red light, and my aunt turned around and said to me with a mix of mystery and playfulness, "Don't pretend to be
a saint." "Go ahead and take advantage of your mother; it'll make her feel better, otherwise she's
feeling really uncomfortable." Then, chuckling, I said, "This is the twenty-fifth act of filial piety under the new circumstances. I
won't laugh at you. I'll just focus on driving and watch the road ahead; I have no idea what's going on in the back seat."

The car continued forward. I thought it over and over, and since it was all over now,
I didn't care whether . I turned my mother around and held her in my arms, letting her lie flat, and began to gently stroke her
buttocks. My mother was very sensitive to this kind of caress and enjoyed it very much, letting out satisfied moans.
Without further ado , I slipped my right hand directly into her collar and touched her full, round breasts.

The exquisite sensation from my hands made me feel so happy that I saw stars. I genuinely loved this intimacy, this
gentle yet slightly wanton skin-to-skin contact. Like a mature version of Xiaowei, my mother was predominantly muscular, with only
fat accumulation in her breasts and buttocks. Her large breasts were firm and perky, the nipples instantly becoming
engorged , protruding upwards and forwards with almost no noticeable sagging. The smooth curves of her buttocks were
irresistible to the touch, and between her two beautiful buttocks was a shy, wet crevice. I pulled down her panties and stockings,
reaching behind her to gently caress and explore her labia with my fingers.
A constant flow , almost soaking her panties with urine and vaginal fluid. I thought to myself, these panties are completely
ruined. Under the combined caresses from above and below, my mother's moans became full of enjoyment, completely devoid of the previous
repression and pain.

My aunt and I struggled to get my mom home. My aunt, taking it upon herself, put her in my room.
My grandma was a little worried and went to check on her. My aunt pushed her out of the room, saying, "Mom, Third Sister
drank a bit too much today. Let her sleep in the small room, or in the living room. I'll sleep with you." My grandma, while
scolding my mom, happily grabbed my aunt's hand, saying, "Lily, you came all this way to see me tonight and
keep me company. I appreciate your filial piety!"

Grandma had already prepared dinner; my aunt went to the kitchen to heat it up, and we ate it together.
Grandma was already sleepy and went to bed, leaving just the two of us staring at each other, heads down, eating. After finishing, I
washed the dishes , and my aunt went to my room to take care of my mom. When I came out, I saw my aunt looking worried
and plopping down on the sofa. I asked her about my mom's condition with some concern. My aunt frowned and said, "The same
as always." I asked again, "Can we go to the hospital?" My aunt said, "Going to the hospital is embarrassing, but nine times out of ten
the doctor will tell you to go home and rest, and she'll get better. It's not poisoning or an acute illness." I asked
if there were any solutions online, and my aunt glanced at me and said, "I've already searched on Baidu, okay? There aren't any really good solutions.
I've followed what they said, given her water and vinegar, basically just trying to tough it out." I sighed, sat down
next to my aunt, and didn't say anything more.

The living room was very quiet; the TV was muted, and a man and a woman were enthusiastically promoting some
necklace . My aunt leaned against me, silent. I reached for my phone, but my aunt
stopped me . She looked at me with a half-smile, "Can't you even look at me? You're looking at your phone?" I
glanced guiltily at the doors to both rooms; they were ajar. Staring at my aunt's beautiful
face said, "My mom and your mother-in-law are still here. It's not really appropriate."

My aunt slipped her hand under my t-shirt and touched my abs, saying dismissively, "You're
the kind of person Lu Xun described, seeing a woman's arm and imagining her body, imagining sleeping with her.
Haven't seen you in a while, little rascal, a little intimacy is okay, isn't it?"

As she spoke, her hand began to wander downwards, slipping under my sweatpants.
The moment her cool hand touched my penis, I immediately became erect.

My aunt whispered lewdly in my ear, "Have you been holding back for a long time? It's reacting very strongly."

I didn't respond to her comment, scratched my head, and said, "I think I should go buy some sleeping pills for my mom.
Maybe she'll feel better if she falls asleep."

While stroking my erection, my aunt said somewhat irritably, "You're always thinking about your mom, aren't you?
Mother and son are bound by fate. These days you need a prescription to buy sleeping pills. How are you going to get them in the middle of the night?"

She suddenly covered my glans with her palm, and I couldn't help but sigh with pleasure.

My aunt stroked my glans, then suddenly pulled her hand away, glanced at it, and said, "How can you be so
unhygienic? There's something sticky

about you." Then, with a mischievous grin, she said, "Were you peeping at a live sex show earlier? You got too excited and got yourself wet."

I blushed and protested, "I was waiting for you to come. If you don't come, I can't handle my mom by myself,
and I'm not sure what to do."

My aunt pulled me to my feet and said, "Don't be stubborn. I know exactly what you're thinking. Come here and
wash up in the bathroom. It's disgusting."

My aunt and I went to the bathroom one after the other. I said, "Auntie, you can go out. I'll take a shower myself. It's okay
. "

My aunt ignored me and pulled me to the sink, saying, "We'll talk about the shower later. First,
wash clean." I didn't quite understand, but I did as she said.

I'm tall, and my legs are quite long, so when I took my penis out, it fit perfectly on the sink. My aunt pulled back my foreskin
, lathered it with soap, cleaned it carefully, and then rinsed it with water. Although the cold water was stimulating,
it still throbbed and hardened under my aunt's small hands.

While wiping my genitals with a towel, my aunt said to me, "There's still a way to deal with your mother's problem, it just depends on
whether you have the guts." I guessed what she meant, and my heart raced, but I didn't say anything.

My aunt went out for a bit and came back with a pair of loose boxer shorts, which I took off my sweatpants to put on.

My aunt rubbed the towel in the water, wrung it out, and turned to hang it up to dry, saying, "You didn't ask me what the solution was,
are you already plotting your wicked scheme?"

I looked at my aunt's slender and graceful waist and round, perky buttocks, and naturally hugged her from behind,
my hard penis pressing against her buttocks.

My aunt turned around quickly, a mischievous grin on her face, and said, "So, dare you?"

I remained silent, only stroking her shoulders and back, saying, "I only need you."

My aunt shifted her body slightly, giggling, and said, "I'm being virtuous tonight. My third sister needs a man, so I
'll give him to her."

I wanted to say something more, but my aunt pulled me outside, saying, "Come on, let's go see."

Only the bedside lamp was lit in my mother's room. On the bedside table was a bowl of vinegar and
a large, opened bottle of mineral water that my aunt had brought in earlier. My mother was still flushed, her eyes tightly closed, writhing on the bed.
The sheet that had been covering her was now tucked between her legs.

My aunt sat on the edge of the bed, patted my mother's head, and then touched her own. Then, I leaned close to my mother's face and said,
"Third Sister, how are you?"

My mother's voice was muffled as she said, "I'm just dizzy, but I can't sleep. I feel hot all over and have no energy.
Am I sick?"

My aunt glanced at her and then said to my mother, "Third Sister, I just checked you. You don't have a fever. I'll have Xiao Yi
come over and keep you company. Talking to you will probably make you feel better."

My mother murmured, "I feel tired even talking now."

My aunt said, "It's okay, keeping her company will do." She patted the bed, gesturing for me to come over.

I carefully sat on the edge of the bed.

My aunt rolled her eyes at me and said, "Lie down and let your mother lean on you. Massage her arms and shoulders to help her
relax, and she won't feel so uncomfortable." I lay down on my side as well. The bed wasn't big, and my mother and I were very close. I could
feel the warmth of her breath.

My aunt stood up, picked up the bowl of vinegar, and walked out, saying, "I have to take this away, otherwise you might knock
it over, and that would be embarrassing."

I hugged my mother in my arms, like holding a child. My mother obediently snuggled closer to me, and I gently stroked her
shoulders, back, and arms, but didn't dare touch her bottom. I brushed my mother's hair aside, her face full of shy
anticipation . Although time had taken its toll on my mother's youth, and her skin's luster and freshness had diminished somewhat,
her face was completely free of excess fat, still maintaining a beautiful contour and lines. Her red lips
exuded allure, and together with her dignified face, she looked exceptionally tempting.

Remembering my aunt's instructions, I only massaged my mother's back, shoulders, and arms, without crossing any lines.
My mother let out a sweet hum, but seemed dissatisfied, her body twisting and turning, her legs clamping together and rubbing.

My aunt quietly opened the door and came in. Seeing that we were still in the same position, she pulled my ear and called me
out.

Without any hesitation, she reached into my pants and touched my penis, her face full of dissatisfaction.
"Are you like a candle, only burning brightly when lit?"

I asked, looking at her and her breasts with suspicion. My aunt had changed into a thin, semi-transparent camisole nightgown,
without a bra. Her breasts pushed the nightgown high, and the shape of her erect nipples was clearly visible.

My aunt placed my hand on her breast, and I reached in from above, gently pinching her smooth, soft flesh
.

My aunt said breathlessly, "You see how uncomfortable your mother is right now. She's been given an aphrodisiac,
her whole body is burning hot, she's suspended in mid-air, unable to go up or down, like she's being fried in oil. She only
wants a man now. If you don't help, who will? That lecherous dean?"

I pretended to understand. My aunt continued, "She just needs to release
herself . Once that's satisfied, she'll feel relaxed all over, and that'll be the end of it. It's like keeping your
thing hard, not letting it go soft, not letting you ejaculate, keeping you excited all the time. Doesn't that make you uncomfortable?
Wouldn't you do anything to ejaculate?"

I nodded, then stammered, "But she's my own mother. Mother and son are incestuous." My aunt rolled her eyes at me:
"Didn't you do everything to me too?" I argued, "That's different. We're not blood relatives."

My aunt said, "You're not blood relatives, so you'll do whatever you want? Pshaw. You won't have a son with your mother, what are you afraid of? It's just for
one night. To your mother, at this moment you're not her son, just a man, a young
man, a young man who can satisfy her, who can save her." Then she pinched my glans and said, "
Just a young penis."

I felt both shy and excited, my penis erect to its maximum, almost touching my stomach.

My aunt stroked my penis and said with satisfaction, "See, your mouth is no good, but your lower body is very obedient.
Don't be a coward anymore, hurry up and get to work."

I was still a little hesitant. My aunt took a breath and pulled my hand into the room.

My aunt climbed onto my mother's bed and said, "Third sister, take off your clothes and go to sleep." My mother nodded, and my aunt
started to take off my mother's top. She pointed to my mother's lower body, indicating that I should take off her skirt and stockings. I quickly went
up and first pulled the sheet out from between our legs. The place where she was pressing against me was warm and a little sore. I
subconsciously smelled it. Underneath the fragrant body scent, there was a slightly erotic smell. This stimulation made me very excited.
When I was taking off the skirt, I found it difficult to pull it down. My aunt pointed to the zipper at the back, and I suddenly realized.
I unzipped the zipper and pulled the skirt off my mother's body. I don't know how to describe pantyhose, but they're
worn around the waist, covering the entire pair of underwear. They're not hard to take off. My mom's waist isn't
as firm as my aunt's, but it's fairer and softer, with a smooth, silky feel. Her two fair thighs felt
smooth and delicate to the touch. When I gently stroked them, she subconsciously squeezed her legs together. She

was only wearing underwear, with a few stray pubic hairs peeking out. I glanced uncertainly at
my aunt , who whispered in my ear, "Keep taking them off, take them all off." I nodded, grabbed
the edge of my mom's underwear, and pulled it down. My mom raised her hand to stop herself, breathing heavily, saying, "No, no more." My aunt was already
taking off my mom's bra. She climbed on top of my mom and said, "Sister, your panties are all wet, they're uncomfortable sticking to your body."
My mom blushed, nodded slightly, and let go of her bra. I pulled down her panties, and my mom
bent her knees and lifted her legs, cooperating by letting me remove them. The front of her panties was practically soaked;
I couldn't tell how much fluid had seeped out. My mom shyly pulled her legs together, only her thick
pubic hair .

My aunt touched my mom's breasts, whispering, "Third sister, let me rub them for you." My mom seemed
to shake her head but didn't say anything. My aunt began to rub my mom's large breasts without restraint. Her nipples stood erect
on the high peaks, but my aunt seemed to ignore them, simply kneading her breasts back and forth, deliberately avoiding the nipples each time.
My mom let out low moans and gasps, sounding both comfortable and uncomfortable. After deliberately circling around
for a while, my aunt began to gently rub my mom's nipples with her palms. My mom felt very aroused,
moaning and twisting her body. My aunt changed her approach, suddenly pinching my mother's
nipple with two fingers and starting to squeeze and rub it with some force. My mother was so stimulated by this sudden pleasure that her body almost
vibrated; she let out a wild, animalistic cry, her legs forcefully opening and closing, her lower body
trembling. My aunt glanced at me and said, "What are you standing there for? Help her suckle."

I snapped out of my daze and immediately knelt at the foot of the bed, spreading my mother's legs apart. She resisted slightly but then relaxed
. I placed her legs on my shoulders and brought my face directly to my mother's lower body.

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