Loving one's children

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

What is Love (Part 1) - Freud

When I was fifteen, I entered a university, ranking third in the city's science and engineering exams. Three years later, I graduated and, through the recommendation of an American professor, went to a prestigious university on the East Coast of the United States to pursue a doctoral degree. Not long after arriving in America, I met an American girl named Kelly at a friend's party. Kelly was nine years older than me and was a graduate student in the psychology department of a nearby university. Kelly had a very strong sex drive and wanted to have sex every day. This was naturally a wonderful thing for me, who was experiencing forbidden fruit for the first time.

Kelly's attitude towards our relationship was very pragmatic: due to the age difference, we would break up sooner or later; she only hoped that we were mutually attracted now and could remain trustworthy friends in the future. She took me to two swapping parties, each time trying her best to match me with girls around my age. She said I should try the taste of youth because I would eventually marry someone my own age.

The first time, we met a young couple, the man was twenty-six and the woman was twenty-one. We met a total of three times. The woman's name was Penny; she was very beautiful and very passionate in bed. I can't say I didn't enjoy being with her. But after each encounter, I never felt the same psychological satisfaction as with Kelly. Kelly laughed and said I was probably in love with her, which was why I should date younger women.

The second time, Kelly kept trying to find me "younger" women, but seeing my indifferent attitude, she gave up. Just as we were about to leave, Kelly pulled me aside and said there was a very attractive man. She said the couple was already forty, and I definitely wouldn't be interested, but the wife agreed to let her husband be "close" to Kelly alone, and she wondered if I minded. I looked in the direction Kelly pointed and saw a pleasant-looking middle-aged couple whose eyes kept glancing at us. My heart skipped a beat, and I told Kelly I didn't mind, but I also wanted to be close to the wife. Kelly paused, smiled thoughtfully, and pulled me over to the couple, saying we were willing to switch partners with them. The woman, Eva, like Kelly, paused for a few seconds, then glanced at me shyly and nodded to her husband.

The four of us rented two rooms at a nearby hotel (it was the couple's suggestion, and they paid for it).

Once alone with Eva, I found myself very nervous, my body trembling slightly. Eva was also a little uncomfortable, but thankfully knew how to break the ice. She said it was their first time, and her husband had suggested it. She added that if I felt she was too old and not interested, she would understand; we didn't have to force it, we could just chat like friends.

I mustered my courage and said I found her very alluring and hoped we could be more than just friends. Eva chuckled and said she liked me too. I went to her side, kissing her as I undressed her. Eva kept her eyes closed and motionless, letting me remove her long skirt, bra, and panties one by one. In the blink of an eye, she was completely naked. Her skin wasn't as smooth as a young woman's, and compared to Kelly and Penny, she had a thicker waist and fuller hips, but she possessed the unique charm and voluptuousness of a middle-aged woman. I felt a surge of heat and excitement throughout my body, so I abandoned my tenderness, wrapped one arm around her waist, and reached between her legs to caress her vulva, while simultaneously taking one of her nipples into my mouth.

She moaned softly, whispering, "Don't rush, my body is all yours."

I helped her lie down on the bed, parted her legs, and my gaze slid from her breasts to her thick pubic hair and open vulva.

Eva's skin was fair, but her labia majora were a dark brown, covered in pubic hair. I couldn't wait to lean down, my nostrils immediately filling with the distinctive, slightly fishy smell of her vulva. I began to lick Eva's vulva. Her clitoris was large, and I sucked on it while rubbing it with the tip of my tongue; in less than a minute, she came.

She begged me for her in a hoarse voice, and I quickly stripped off my clothes, shoving my engorged, purplish-red penis into her vagina. My first impression was that her vagina wasn't any looser than Kelly's, and because her buttocks and thighs were fuller than Kelly's, it gave me an indescribable feeling of fullness and satisfaction, which was incredibly stimulating.

That day, I had sex with Eva three times in a row over an hour. She joked afterwards that being gang-raped wasn't as bad as this. I was also secretly surprised by my own strong libido. With my active encouragement, our four-person partner-swapping game happened at least once a week, and this continued for more than two months.

One day, Kelly said, half-jokingly and half-seriously, that she couldn't tell if my current girlfriend was her or Eva, and I realized that what I had done was really unfair to Kelly. Seeing my embarrassed expression, Kelly first playfully said that she was now more convinced that we would break up, but not because she wasn't young enough, but because she wasn't old enough. Then she seriously asked me if I wanted to hear her analysis of me. Feeling both guilty and curious, I nodded.

Kelly said that my lack of interest in Penny, who was my age, but my infatuation with Eva, who was over twenty years older than me, could be seen in psychology as an Oedipus complex. According to Freud, all men have this, and it's nothing to be surprised about. However, I should know that men's infatuation with women of their mother's generation is not mainstream in contemporary society. She said she knew I was highly intelligent, and highly intelligent people often crave success and acceptance from mainstream society. But non-mainstream sexual behavior is often an obstacle to entering mainstream society. Kelly's analysis was insightful, and I nodded in agreement. She went on to say that she wasn't saying this out of jealousy for my infatuation with Eva, but because she wanted me to understand the pros and cons.

"Sometimes, when you're too deeply involved, you can't see what's around you," she said with a smile.

I was grateful to Kelly and resolved to forget about Eva. From then on, we stopped going to swapping parties. The first summer vacation had just begun when I received a letter from my mother saying that my father had suddenly suffered a heart attack without any prior warning, and after two days of intensive care, he had passed away. I was heartbroken and couldn't eat or sleep, but thankfully Kelly helped me through the first few weeks. After calming down, I decided to bring my mother to stay with me in the United States for a while. Having me around, and not seeing her old things, might help alleviate her grief over this sudden misfortune. Kelly also thought it was a good idea. The passport and visa were processed smoothly. In mid-August, I picked my mother up from the international airport and took her to the one-bedroom graduate student apartment I had just applied for.

My mother looked much thinner, and her eyes looked tired, but the joy she showed when she saw me made me feel that I had done something for her for the first time in my life. I originally planned for my mother to stay in the bedroom, and I would stay in the living room. She disagreed, saying that I was old enough to have my own bedroom, and that staying in the living room was enough for her. School started soon after, but fortunately, taking classes was a regular thing for me, so I was able to spend some time chatting with my mother every day. I had never talked to my mother so much before. Gradually, we became close friends who could confide in each other. Mom's mood improved noticeably; she regained her former humor, laughed more often, and her complexion was much rosier than when she first arrived.

My own mood also changed. No matter what unpleasant things happened at school, just thinking of Mom would inexplicably lift my spirits. When I got home, it seemed like I had endless things to talk about with Mom.

Seeing her happy laughter filled me with an unprecedentedly sweet feeling. During this time, I saw Kelly less. With Mom around, I felt embarrassed to be too close to her, but I didn't want to go to Kelly's place and leave Mom alone at home. Fortunately, Kelly didn't seem unhappy. She said she had been very busy with her studies lately, and for some reason, since our conversation about Eva, her libido seemed to have decreased.

"I guess I don't want to get too deeply involved in my own life. Besides, cucumbers and sausages work when you're not around," she said with a smile.

My birthday is in October. That morning, Mom said she'd cook some nice dishes for dinner to celebrate. I came home early in the afternoon and found Mom in the kitchen, softly singing as she washed vegetables, not hearing me come in. Looking at her back, I naturally thought of what I'd heard from her over the past month. Mom comes from a minority group in Southwest China known for their singing and dancing (I already knew this). She was selected to study at a minority college at seventeen, married my father at eighteen, and gave birth to me before she was nineteen. She said that if she weren't from a minority group, she would most likely have been expelled from school for getting pregnant. After graduating from university, she continued her studies at a local arts school and stayed on to teach dance. Now she's not even thirty-eight, but some of her students are already famous dancers…

Just then, Mom turned around and saw me. “Xiao Lei, you startled me! Look at you, standing at the door, what are you doing?” She gave me a sweet smile and continued washing the vegetables.

Since I can remember, I've seen my mother smile countless times, but today is the first time I've realized how beautiful she is! Perhaps I've never seen my mother through a man's eyes. My mother is more alluring than any woman I've ever seen, including middle-aged women. Look at Eva, she doesn't have my mother's humor, her eyes and eyebrows aren't as pretty, her skin isn't as smooth, her waist isn't as slender, and her vulva certainly isn't as... I was suddenly jolted back to reality by my own thoughts.

And reality left me even more bewildered: my penis was as hard as an iron rod.

I was thankful that my mother was facing away from me, and I quickly walked into the bedroom, my heart pounding and my face burning. I started silently repeating to myself, "I haven't seen Kelly for weeks, I should go and be intimate with her." I forced myself to think of Kelly, her wantonness in bed, her pink vulva with its golden curls, but suddenly I realized that the Kelly whose vulva was opening and closing had become my mother. To be honest, I was terrified of myself, thinking I must be going crazy.

I rushed into the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and found I could still think. I decided to first soften my throbbing, throbbing penis. As I masturbated, I thought of Kelly and Eva, but my mother's image kept drifting in and replacing them. Eventually, I gave up completely, and in my mind, I licked my mother's vulva between her legs and ejaculated. Needless to say, dinner that day lacked any festive atmosphere. Guilt, confusion, and the lust within me made me afraid to look at my mother and unable to speak. Seeing my listless state and flushed face, my mother thought I was sick and kept asking me what was wrong. I vaguely replied with a headache, hurriedly ate a few bites, and went back to my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

That night, I kept having dreams; you can probably guess what they were about. For the next few days, I used the excuse of being busy with schoolwork to leave early and return late at night, immediately locking myself in my bedroom. My mother asked several times, but I rudely interrupted her each time.

One morning, just as I was about to leave, my mother stopped me and said, "Xiaolei, I can tell something's on your mind. Tell me, maybe I can give you some advice. Perhaps I've been here too long, and you're finding it uncomfortable or inconvenient.

Tell me then. I'm your mother; I'm only at ease as long as you're okay. There's also a lot of things waiting for me to do back home..."

"Mom, don't overthink it. I'm really busy with my studies," I interrupted her and ran out of the house.

But my mother's words made me realize that this couldn't go on. Not only was I constantly confused, but my mother was also having a very difficult time. I didn't want her to suffer any more. I decided to listen to Kelly's advice.

It was incredibly difficult to tell someone about this, but I still stammered out the whole story to Kelly, because I had no other choice. Kelly listened quietly, thought for a moment, and tentatively asked, "Maybe we can call Eva and the others. Do you think that would work?" I shook my head.

She looked into my eyes and slowly said, "I might be able to help you, but that depends on how you answer my next question. Therefore, I hope you will answer truthfully." I nodded.

"Do you only want to have sex with your mother, or have you fallen in love with her?" she asked. I had asked myself this question countless times. "Both," I said.

Kelly looked at me intently, then sat quietly for several minutes before letting out a soft sigh: "Oh, poor little one, you really have fallen in love with your mother." She took a breath and said, "In that case, let me offer my thoughts as a friend and psychologist. If you truly love your mother, I think you should find a way to tell her your feelings. Once you've talked things out, the burden on your mind will be much lighter. As for the outcome, there are only two possibilities. If she doesn't agree, you'll know it's a dead end, give up, and the knot will be untied. She loves you and will eventually understand. If needed, I can help you explain. If she agrees, your knot will be gone. As long as you're careful and don't let others know, you can love each other to your heart's content."

She paused, then asked, "Have you considered the psychological consequences of incest? Even if you get what you want, the guilt might stay with you for life."

“I already feel guilty. But the more I think about it, the less I understand what I did wrong. My mother and I are both adults. If we don’t hurt others, why can’t we love each other? Society used to not accept homosexuality, but isn’t it starting to accept it now?” I blurted out what I had been thinking about for a week, as if I were arguing.

“It’s good that you’ve figured it out,” Kelly said. “But you should know that current American law doesn’t allow incest. I’m giving you this advice because I trust your character. Also, as a friend, I’d like to add something. If you truly love your mother, you naturally don’t want to hurt her feelings. I think you should give her some subtle signals first, letting her sense your feelings. If she has absolutely no sexual interest in you, she’ll definitely tell you in a roundabout way. You should then back off. But at least when you confront her, she’ll be somewhat prepared and won’t be suddenly hurt. Besides, giving subtle signals first can increase your chances of success, because women like men to make advances. Maybe she’ll even start a relationship with you.”

I was incredibly impressed with Kelly, and my mood improved considerably. I couldn’t help but kiss her. She laughed and dodged away, saying, "Women don't like men who aren't faithful. Besides, after trying all sorts of sausages, I've finally chosen my next boyfriend—his size and hardness are just as good as yours!"

Her smile faded as she continued, "Lei, I think our sexual relationship ends today. But I hope we'll always be close friends. If you have any worries, feel free to come to me." She hesitated for a few seconds, then added, "I wholeheartedly hope you and your mother can get what you want… However, if you'd like, we can be intimate one more time."

I hesitated. Kelly had always been good to me; I shouldn't refuse her. Besides, I hadn't been intimate in a long time and needed to release some tension. But I thought of my mother, and the sweet moments we shared. I smiled apologetically at Kelly and shook my head. The thought that we would never be as close as before filled me with a sense of loss.

It was very late when I got home; my mother was still waiting for me. Seeing me return, she let out a long sigh of relief. I still felt embarrassed to look her in the eye, but the guilt and helplessness I felt before were gone. "How can I tell my mother my feelings without hurting her?" I asked myself.
What is Love (Part Two): The Pain of Heartbreak
Love is a wondrous thing! To be fair, when I was with Kelly, I was very satisfied, both emotionally and sexually. But that was worlds apart from my feelings for my mother. In all my years, I had never admired a woman so much: every smile, every gesture of my mother possessed a captivating beauty. Of course, my mother was naturally beautiful, and years of dance training had given her a graceful figure and movements. But Kelly and Eva were also good-looking, not to mention Penny. The difference was that my appreciation of their appearance was based on an objective standard, and my praise was often driven by reason. For example, when I kissed Penny's nipple and praised her curves, I felt it was something I should say, even though it was the truth. But my admiration for my mother was utter and complete, and it wasn't just her appearance and body that I admired, but her as a person, everything about her. When I praised my mother's beauty, grace, and figure, my words came from the heart; they flowed naturally from my lips without conscious thought.

The first few times she heard my compliments, she was very embarrassed. I told her that it was perfectly natural in America; a woman's beauty is a gift from God to men, and expressing those feelings only makes the world a better place.

Once, my mother wore a dress I had never seen before, which perfectly accentuated her figure. Hearing my compliment, she suddenly smiled and said that according to Chinese custom, she should be modest at this moment. But even in China, she had never heard anyone claim to be ugly.

"What should I say then?" she asked with a smile.

"Just say thank you," I replied.

My mother's smile faded, she looked at me seriously and said thank you, then couldn't help but burst into laughter. I was amused by her too. After laughing for a while, Mom, panting, said that she had never been so unpretentious since she came to the city for university, but the feeling of being unpretentious was very good. "Thank you, Xiaolei." Looking at her happy face, I felt a little drunk.

I also discovered that I was willing to do anything for Mom. To be honest, I hate doing housework. When I was living alone, I always tried my best to minimize it. But now, I not only willingly helped her with housework, but I also wished I could do everything for her. (This subconscious act of "flattering" Mom later led to something worth mentioning, which I will talk about below.) When I first started helping Mom with housework, she disagreed, saying that my task was to study and I didn't need to worry about anything else. I replied that firstly, I would have to do it myself anyway if she didn't come to America; secondly, studying was the easiest thing in the world for me, and doing something else would be good for clearing my head; thirdly, I wanted her to come to America to enjoy a few days of comfort, not to be my maid; and fourthly, it was only natural for a man to serve a beautiful woman like her. She couldn't argue with me, so she smiled and agreed.

The most surprising change was my attitude towards sex. When I was dating Kelly, even though we were together every day, I was still interested in other women. Since falling in love with my mother, other women suddenly lost their appeal to me, as if my mother was the only woman in the world, and everyone else was androgynous. Not only that, but even my interest in my mother wasn't always linked to sexual desire as it initially was. Most of the time, thinking of my mother filled me with that sweet, tingling feeling.

Once, I even thought that this feeling, which I had never experienced before, was more intense than the pleasure of ejaculation. However, my lust was still there; with love, desire seemed secondary, but I still needed to release it from time to time. Every week or two, I would go to bed early at night, turn off the lights, close my eyes, and masturbate my throbbing, veiny penis while thinking about my mother's body. Every time this happened, I would feel frustrated, thinking that I couldn't imagine what my mother's vulva looked like, because I had never seen a naked Asian woman.

Winter break arrived in the blink of an eye. With no classes for a month, I spent a lot of time talking to my mom and shopping. One day, we happened to pass a video rental store, so I asked my mom if she wanted to borrow a few Chinese movies.

She agreed. We browsed around the store and picked out two Taiwanese films. Passing by the adult section, I remembered watching adult movies with Kelly before, and a thought popped into my head. I smiled and asked my mom if she wanted to watch something with explicit content. She hesitated a bit, but still nodded shyly.

Back home, I prepared dinner while my mom watched the Mandarin film. By the time I had time to put the adult film in the refrigerator, it was already 7 PM. Seeing that I wanted to watch too, Mom hesitated and said, "Xiaolei, if you want to watch now, I'll wait until tomorrow."

Knowing Mom was embarrassed to watch with me, I said, "Then you watch, I'll go to my bedroom to read." I went into my bedroom, made a face at Mom before closing the door, and grinned, "Ask me if you don't understand anything, I'm an expert compared to you."

"You're not learning anything good!" Mom said, sitting down on the sofa in front of the TV.

An hour later, I went into the living room. On TV, a man was kneeling between a woman's legs, performing oral sex on her from bottom to top. Mom's eyes widened, one hand covering her half-open mouth, clearly finding the scene unbelievable. I brought her a glass of water and placed it on the coffee table, then sat down next to her. This time, Mom didn't chase me away, probably because she didn't care.

A dozen minutes later, the movie ended, and Mom let out a long sigh. I asked with a grin, "How was it? Did you learn anything new?"

Mom glanced at me quickly, paused for a moment, and stammered, "Was that... real... that guy... giving... that girl... um..."

I suddenly felt a mischievous urge, so I asked knowingly, "What do you mean, real or fake?"

"Well... that guy... with his mouth..."

Perhaps the scene in the video had aroused my lust, and explicit words slipped out, "Oh, you mean that guy licked the girl's vulva?" Mom's body stiffened for a few seconds, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Even under the light, I could see her face was flushed red with embarrassment.

I decided to go all in, controlling my pounding heart, and continued, pretending to be serious: "Of course it's true. Licking the vulva is a major way for men to help women reach orgasm. A survey showed that 99% of women who have had their vulvas licked really enjoy it." (As an aside, this statistic isn't fabricated.)

My mother, her eyes fixed on the now-off television, asked softly, "Then...aren't men disgusted?"

"Mom, the vulva is much cleaner than the mouth. The mouth is always exposed, eating everything, and most people don't brush their teeth right after eating." This time, I was arguing seriously.

For several minutes, the room was silent except for the sound of breathing. My mother sat motionless, and I didn't know how to end this awkward situation. Finally, Mom stood up and said, "I'll go take out the trash."

While Mom was out, I slipped into my bedroom.

The next morning, Mom made breakfast as usual and went downstairs for morning exercises. Because of what happened the night before, I felt a little guilty and decided to do some chores before going to the office, both to comfort myself and to "curry favor"

with Mom. Naturally, I thought of doing laundry. There were some dirty clothes piled up in the bathroom. I bent down to pick them up and found Mom's underwear at the bottom. My heart skipped a beat. I picked up the underwear and noticed a small wet patch around her vulva. I could vaguely see glistening liquid between the fibers. I brought it to my nose and immediately smelled a strong, pungent odor. Based on my experience with Kelly, I knew this was most likely the vaginal fluid Mom had released after masturbating.

It's very likely that last night's video aroused Mom's sexual desire. This morning, after masturbating, she hurriedly took off her clothes, intending to wash them in the rooftop laundry room after I left. I imagined Mom reaching into her underwear and rubbing her vulva, and masturbated while smelling her scent. I decided it was better not to wash those clothes to avoid embarrassing Mom.

When she came back downstairs, I was eating breakfast. She came out of the bathroom, hesitated for a moment, and asked, blushing, "Xiao Lei, did you use the bathroom just now?" Seeing her face, I suddenly realized my stupidity. I forgot to put her underwear back at the bottom of the dirty clothes! I felt thirsty and my face burned. But the truth was obvious, and denying it was useless, so I just stared at the floor and nodded slightly. Mom stood there for a moment, then locked herself in the bathroom.

For the next few days, Mom avoided me and ate very little. My mood was extremely bad; one moment I cursed myself for being a villain who hurt Mom, the next I blamed myself for my carelessness. Of course, I also thought about my mother's vulva from time to time, and sometimes I even thought like an outsider, "You love your mother, but in the end, you just want to have sex with her.

Compared to your ultimate goal, what does smelling her panties matter? Why are you pretending to be innocent and blaming yourself for hurting her feelings?" In short, my mind was in complete turmoil, and I couldn't concentrate on anything. I was afraid of making mistakes in my experiment, so I took sick leave.

A few days later, one morning, I was absentmindedly reading on the sofa when my mother came into the living room and said she wanted to talk to me. "Xiaolei, I haven't seen Kelly in a long time. Did you two have a fight?"

"No, we broke up, but we're still friends," I replied.

"Why? Is it because I'm here that you feel uncomfortable?" my mother asked.

Obviously, my mother thought I was interested in her panties because I didn't have a girlfriend. I felt a little wronged, but my thoughts suddenly became very clear. Kelly had said that I would eventually tell my mother my secret. Since things had come to this point, now might be a good opportunity. I made up my mind, stared at the floor, and slowly said,

"It's not because it's inconvenient, but because there's a beautiful and lovely woman in my heart. I think about her all the time."

My answer probably surprised my mother. She paused for a few seconds, then said softly, "Xiaolei, whoever you like, I'll be happy for you. Don't worry, I won't be like some mothers who are overly critical of their sons' girlfriends."

Seeing that my mother had misunderstood again, and knowing that this roundabout way of speaking would never clear things up, I gritted my teeth, looked up at my mother, and said, "Mom, this woman doesn't know I love her. She's Chinese, and nineteen years older than me." "

Nineteen years older than you?" My mother's eyes widened in surprise. "So she's the same age as me, and she can be you...?" Her voice suddenly stopped; she knew who I was talking about.

For several minutes, I stared blankly at my mother, and she stared back at me blankly. Then she lowered her gaze and asked softly, "Xiaolei, I understood what you said, right?"

"Yes," I nodded. Although I still didn't know my mother's attitude, I had finally said what I needed to say, and the burden I had carried for three or four months was finally lifted. My mother's face was expressionless, her eyes staring straight ahead, and she sat down on the sofa as if sleepwalking.

After what seemed like an eternity, my mother said, "I'm tired. I want to rest in your bedroom for a while. Please don't disturb me, okay?" Before I could answer, she went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

My mother didn't leave her bedroom for two days. I was worried she was sick, but I didn't dare disturb her, so I checked on her when I brought her food. Each time I went in, I found her lying motionless on the bed, with every grain of her previous meal still there.

On the morning of the third day, as I put down my breakfast and was about to leave, my mother said, "Xiaolei, I know you sent me to America because you felt sorry for me. In the past six months, we've become very close, we talk about almost everything." My mother chuckled softly, almost self-deprecatingly, and continued, "Xiaolei, I want to ask you a few things, and I hope you'll answer me truthfully."

I hummed in response.

"Xiaolei, when did you start…?

" "From my birthday. You were washing vegetables, and you looked so beautiful…"

"Didn't you ever think that I'm your mother?" my mother interrupted.

"I did. To be honest, at first this tormented me quite a bit, but I figured it out later,"

I decided not to mention Kelly. I take responsibility for my actions; dragging others into this is pointless. “You’re my mother, but you’re also a woman. You need a man’s love too. I’m a man, why can’t I love you? As long as you love me too, this is between the two of us adults, and it has nothing to do with anyone else or society.”

“Xiaolei, I love you, but this is a mother’s love for her child. Besides, have you ever thought about how you have these thoughts after your father just passed away last year? Do you even care about your father?”

“Of course I do. But can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead,” the mother said expressionlessly.

"Mom, you're only thirty-seven and already a widow. If Dad knew from heaven, would he be at peace? You're so beautiful, there must be many men who want to marry you, but between me and those men, who do you think Dad trusts more?"

Mom was silent for a few minutes, then said, "I don't know where you learned these twisted ideas. No wonder people say American society's moral values are a mess. But even putting aside morality, you should at least find a girl around your age."

"Mom, I love the person, not the age! Why can so many men love women twenty years younger than them, but not the other way around?"

Mom frowned, closed her eyes, and said, "Xiaolei, I can't argue with you, and I'm tired. You can go out now."

At noon, seeing Mom leave the bedroom, my heart pounded. Mom pulled me to sit on the sofa, looked into my eyes, and said, word by word, "Xiaolei, I think I should go back." My heart sank. Mom continued, “Xiaolei, I’m your mother. No matter what you’ve said, I won’t blame you. Besides, you were less than fifteen when you left home to go to university alone. It’s understandable that you couldn’t distinguish between loving your mother and loving a woman. But you’re grown up now, and you should understand that you shouldn’t get everything you want. I’ve been in America for quite a while now, and I have a lot to do when I go back. If it’s convenient, could you book a plane ticket for me two weeks from now?”

My mind went blank, my heart felt empty and painful, and I wanted to cry but couldn’t. Fortunately, I could still remember that loving my mother meant respecting her wishes. I can’t even remember how I spent the last ten days or so before Mom returned to China. Mom made all sorts of things I liked to eat and kept joking around, trying to cheer me up. To avoid disappointing her, I forced a smile from time to time. But only one sentence filled my mind: I will never have the person I love.

At the airport boarding gate, Mom’s eyes were red. It was time to break up. She hugged me and whispered, "Xiaolei, come back to China after you graduate. Mom will definitely find you a good girl."

A month after Mom returned to China, I received a letter from her. Besides telling me to take care of myself, the entire letter was about what she had been doing since returning. It was clear she didn't want to talk about her time in America. At the end of the letter, she mentioned that they were preparing to install a telephone at home. "In another month or two, we can talk directly!" Mom wrote.

One evening in mid-April, I was lying in bed reading when the phone rang. I picked it up and heard my mother's voice: "Xiaolei, guess who it is?"

My mother sounded very excited, bombarding me with questions about the call quality, how I was doing, and how my studies were going.

I told her to hang up and that I should call back. She said no need; she hadn't spent the money she brought back from America and could afford a few long-distance calls. My mother added that in a few weeks it would be the anniversary of my father's death, and she was going to the cemetery. She asked if I had anything to say to my father, and she would pass it on to him. I thought for a moment and then asked her to tell my father that I would take good care of and protect my mother for the rest of my life, so he could rest assured. My mother was silent for a while, and when she spoke again, it sounded like she had just been crying. I said it had been a while, and we should hang up. My mother seemed a little reluctant. I promised her I'd call her once a month from now on, then jokingly said that if she talked for too long this time and used up all her savings, I'd have to pay all her future phone bills, which would be so unfair. Mom laughed and agreed.

In mid-July, I sensed from her phone call that Mom wasn't in a good mood, and seemed preoccupied. I asked her if something was wrong, and she said it was nothing, not to worry me, then changed the subject, asking if I had a new girlfriend. Since Mom returned to China, she had avoided this topic in her letters and on the phone. I usually tried my best not to think about it, because it made me feel bad. This time, when Mom asked, I couldn't hold back anymore: "Mom, I have someone in my heart, I don't want to date anyone new."

There was a moment of silence on the phone, then Mom's voice came through, "Xiaolei, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought this up."

Hanging up the phone, my mind was in turmoil. This conversation made me realize that my love for my mother hadn't diminished with time, and therefore the pain of heartbreak hadn't lessened in the slightest. Not only that, my intuition told me that my mother must have encountered something extremely upsetting. My mother is a very optimistic person; the same thing that might infuriate others could be easily resolved with a joke by her. Thinking of this, I remembered my promise to my father to protect my mother for life. Maybe I should go back to see her, I thought. I immediately booked a flight back to China for mid-August. If my mother's mood didn't improve during the next phone call, I would fly back immediately.

This booked ticket was never used, for a reason I never expected.

August 10th was a Sunday (a date I'll never forget), and I was sleeping in when I was suddenly woken by the phone. It was my mother calling. I immediately had a bad feeling. It wasn't the day for our call yet, and we had clearly agreed that I would call her last time. My mother asked if I had disturbed her sleep. Her voice sounded a little nervous. I started cursing myself for being so inefficient. I had planned to go back, so why did I wait until August? I was about to ask my mother what had happened when she spoke first:

"Xiaolei, I...I want to go to America again...to see you...is that okay?"

I thought I misheard: "Mom, you mean..."

"Yes. But...if you don't want me to go..."

"Mom, of course I want you to come! I'll send the invitation to America today!" I was overjoyed, but I still remembered the question that worried me most: "Mom, what happened? Are you alright?"

My mother quickly said, "Look how scared you are. I'm fine. Don't worry."

I knew asking further was useless. The most important thing was to get my mother out of that environment as soon as possible. In the days that followed, I looked forward to my mother's visit every day, just like I did when I was a child waiting for the New Year. My mother's passport was still valid, but due to the difficulties caused by the US consulate, she had to go three times before finally obtaining a visa, arriving in the US in early October.

My mother looked very haggard, which broke my heart. I offered her a room in the bedroom, and she agreed without hesitation. It took her two weeks to recover from jet lag, and her complexion returned to normal.

One evening after dinner, I asked her again if she had encountered anything unpleasant in China. She glanced at me, thought for a moment, and then slowly said, "Xiaolei, I know you love me and want to know why I came back.

You didn't hide your feelings from me then, and I won't hide them from you now."

When my mother decided to return to China, she didn't resent me, but she was extremely averse to America because she felt that the culture there had influenced my rebellious thoughts. She was very disappointed at the time and planned to spend the rest of her life with my father's ashes after returning home.

At the end of June, at a graduation performance, someone introduced my mother to a "VIP," supposedly the president of a large company. The man seemed polite and approachable, and even invited my mother to his company on the spot. My mother thought it was just politeness and casually agreed.

A few days later, the man's secretary called my mother, saying the president was available that afternoon and would like to invite her, adding that a car would be sent to pick her up shortly. My mother repeatedly declined, but the man said everything was arranged and asked her not to be shy. My mother had no choice but to agree. The host was very hospitable that day. My mother felt this was all too sudden and uncomfortable, but she was still grateful for the host's hospitality.

A week later, my mother received two phone calls. One was from the vice dean of their college in charge of finance, saying that the company was willing to fund the college to establish a student dance troupe, benefiting students, the school, and the company, and hoped my mother could discuss some technical details with the company's executives. The vice-dean's intention was for her to maintain a good relationship with the company as much as possible, so as not to lose this opportunity for the school. The other call was from the secretary from last time, also about cooperation. Mom had no choice but to reluctantly agree to meet the president again. This time, the guy showed his true colors, speaking rudely and with malicious intent. Mom hoped he would back down, so she pretended not to notice at first. Unexpectedly, he became increasingly blatant, eventually saying that since Mom was alone anyway, she would gain many benefits if she spent time with him, and the student dance troupe matter would naturally be a given. He started touching her inappropriately as he spoke.

In a fit of anger, Mom slapped him and was so upset that she didn't eat for two days afterward.

When I called in mid-July, only three or four days had passed, which is why Mom seemed depressed and distracted.

Mom took a long breath, paused for a moment, and then continued, "That day after I hung up the phone, I kept thinking about what you said about not being interested in finding a girlfriend. I thought, why did I reject such a considerate man and end up here being bullied by a thug? I was angry at the time and didn't think there was anything wrong with thinking that way. A few days later, I calmed down and planned to forget about it. But that guy wouldn't let it go. One day, a strange man called and said that their CEO was magnanimous and didn't care about the unpleasantness of that day, but hoped I would seriously consider his suggestion. I told him to forget about it. The man's tone changed, and he said coldly, 'The CEO only wanted to give you a chance because you're good-looking, but he didn't expect you to be so ungrateful.' I was furious and said I would sue them. The man snorted and said, 'Don't you think you can sue our CEO? I think you'd better be careful when you go out, lest you get hit by a car.'"

My mother's eyes reddened as she spoke. I really wanted to buy a gun, go back to China, and kill that guy. Not wanting to upset her further, I tried to persuade her to stop. She interrupted me, saying,

"Xiao Lei, it's better for me to say it than keep it to myself. People say that once you've escaped death, your perspective on life and death changes."

After this incident, I've started to doubt so-called ethics and morality, and I keep thinking about what you said at the beginning of the year. Whether incest is right or wrong, I still don't know. But as long as no one is hurt, it's much better than that guy using his power and wealth to bully people. I understand what the possible outcome of coming to America again might be. I hope things can develop naturally; I'm willing to accept whatever the result, but please don't pressure me, okay?” Mom looked at the floor, her face flushed, and said.

My heart pounded, and for the first time in my life, I felt like a knight willing to die for his lover: “Mom, don't worry, no matter the outcome, I'll still love you and protect you.”

After this conversation, my relationship with Mom gradually changed. Mom still laughed and talked, and I remained a dutiful son. But our conversations began to contain flirtatious elements. To avoid awkwardness, we both referred to Mom as my "sweetheart" when we flirted.

One evening, we were watching an ice skating competition on TV when Mom suddenly asked me, "Xiaolei, can you dance?" I shook my head. Kelly had offered to teach me, but I wasn't interested. Mom looked at me mischievously and said, "Want to learn? I'm a famous dance teacher."

"Of course I want to learn! If I learn, I'll have another way to seduce my crush," I replied with the same look and tone.

Looking back now, I'm sure I inherited my dancing talent from Mom, because my dancing skills improved quickly, even though most of my attention was focused on the hand around Mom's waist.

Mom doesn't like shopping alone, so she studies English at home. One day, I came home early and heard Mom reciting a text: "Can I borrow that magazine? No, you can't." I noticed that Mom, influenced by Chinese, pronounced the "a" before the "n" like the vowel in "sun." I had another mischievous thought, so I went to my mother's side and said with a smile that I hadn't pronounced the word correctly, so her "can't" sounded more like another English word. My mother asked me which word it sounded like, and I made a face and said I couldn't tell her. This, of course, only piqued her curiosity further, and she insisted that I tell her.

"That English word is cunt, it means yes," I said.

"What 'bi'?" My mother didn't understand at first.

"It's a woman's vulva," I said.

My mother's face immediately turned red: "Xiao Lei, don't talk nonsense!"

"I'm not talking nonsense at all!" I picked up the Websters College Dictionary and pointed to the entry for cunt, saying, "How do you pronounce this word?"

My mother tried, then instinctively covered her mouth with her hand.

I chuckled and said, "Mom, if you misread that word, your 'No, you can't' becomes 'No way! You're such a slut!'"

Mom's face turned even redder. "Xiao Lei, what you said was so awful!"

I continued with my usual cheeky grin, "I was just translating what you said. Besides, I don't understand what's so awful about it. It would be meaningless if my sweetheart didn't have even a hint of 'slutness'."

"Xiao Lei, don't push your luck!" Mom was really angry. I knew I'd gone too far, so I quickly grabbed the trash can from the kitchen and went downstairs to take it out.

When I came back, Mom was still sitting on the sofa, stunned. I walked over quietly and whispered, "Mom, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have talked nonsense."

Mom glanced at me and asked, "Do you usually talk so recklessly?" "

I thought for a moment and said, 'I want to answer truthfully, but I'm afraid I'll make you angry again.'

My mother said sternly, 'That's still better than lying.'

I said, 'I don't usually swear. I only say these kinds of things to women I'm close to.'

My mother chuckled, 'Get out of my way!' "

After that incident, I was very careful with my words for several weeks. But now, both my mother and I understand that if our relationship continues, sex is inevitable. My

mother's birthday is in mid-December. My gift was a black low-cut dress and a pair of black high heels, which not only showed off all her curves but also accentuated her black hair and fair skin. I had planned to take her to a restaurant, but she said she'd rather talk to me at home. I cooked two of my mother's favorite dishes, and although my cooking was far inferior to hers, she still praised them highly.

After dinner, my mother suggested dancing. As we swayed, our bodies drew closer and closer until I held her completely in my arms. Her head rested on my shoulder, and her breath tickled my neck. This was the first time I'd ever been so close to my mother!

Just as I was feeling ecstatic, my penis suddenly and involuntarily hardened, like a large rubber rod clamping between my and my mother's abdomens, being rubbed back and forth by our swaying bodies. My face immediately turned red, because I knew my mother must have felt it too. Instinctively, I gently pushed my mother away, creating space between our bodies.

Throughout, my mother continued dancing earnestly, as if nothing had happened.

A few minutes later, my mother suddenly chuckled, looking at me mischievously and saying, "Xiao Lei, your brain is definitely not working properly when you're dancing."

I didn't know what she meant by that, so I could only grin awkwardly. My mother continued, "The brain needs a lot of blood when it's thinking. When you dance, all the blood is concentrated down there, causing a lack of blood to the brain. How can it function properly?" "After saying that, she burst into laughter.

I understood; Mom was talking about my penis. I laughed happily too, both because of Mom's humor and because of the meaning behind the joke: Mom had accepted my sexual interest in her.

Winter vacation arrived in the blink of an eye, and I had more time to spend with Mom. Once, we rented a romantic movie from the 1950s. The plot was very moving. After the movie ended, I remained sitting on the sofa, lost in thought about the tragic ending of the two main characters. Looking at my mother, who was also silent beside me, I felt incredibly happy. I reached out and hugged Mom, and she leaned softly against me. I lowered my head and gently kissed her forehead. Mom didn't move. I couldn't control myself any longer and began kissing her eyes, her face, her earlobes, and finally, I pressed my lips to hers. Mom only paused for a second or two before returning the kiss."

I slipped my tongue into my mother's slightly parted mouth. She probably had never used her tongue before when kissing, so she was initially unsure how to respond. But she quickly got the hang of it, her tongue swirling around my invading tongue like a snake. A surge of heat shot from my tongue to her perineum like lightning, and my penis immediately hardened. I realized this kiss had a similar effect on my mother, and I began to imagine her engorged labia and the trickling of her juices. My heart pounded, and I threw aside the "civilized" language I had carefully used for two months, whispering in my mother's ear, "Mom, are you all wet?"

My mother didn't answer, but pressed her soft lips tightly against mine again.

I don't know how long we kissed, only that when we finally parted, my lips were numb from the kiss, my underwear was soaked like I'd wet myself, and my penis was throbbing as if it were about to explode. I looked at my mother, and she looked at me with an expression I'd never seen before. I lowered my gaze and pleaded softly, "Mom, I promise I won't touch you if you don't agree. But I really want to smell your genitals."

My mother didn't speak for a long time, then stood up and said softly, "It's getting late, you should rest."

Disappointed, I went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed with mixed feelings. A few minutes later, my mother knocked on the door and asked if I was asleep. I said no, and she pushed the door open and put something on my bed: "Xiaolei, this is what you wanted. I can guess what you'll use it for. Promise me you won't do it too much. It's bad for your health." She then turned and left the bedroom, closing the door tightly.

I picked up the item; it was a pair of my mother's neatly folded underwear. I unfolded it, and the vulva area was completely wet, a strong smell of crab filling my nostrils. That night, I ejaculated three times before finally falling asleep, exhausted.

The next morning, I woke up late. My mother had already made breakfast and was waiting for me. She was probably embarrassed about what happened the night before, because she kept avoiding my gaze. I felt it was too late to avoid it now, so I laughed and said, "Mom, what you gave me last night was like Moutai liquor—strong and intoxicating."

My joke worked. Mom smiled slightly and said, "Luckily, I can speak a few words of English now, otherwise, if you were drunk and passed out, I wouldn't even be able to call an ambulance."

One night before Valentine's Day, I was dancing with Mom when I told her I planned to give my sweetheart three gifts for the holiday, hoping she would like them.

"That depends on what the gifts are," Mom replied with a smile.

I gave Mom a meaningful look and said, "The first gift is something I bought for her. I can't tell you now, but it will definitely surprise her on that day. The second gift," I paused, "is that I hope to lick my sweetheart's vulva, letting her experience another kind of pleasure as a woman."

Mom's face turned bright red to her ears, and she didn't say anything.

"As for the third gift, I think my sweetheart can guess," I tilted my head and looked at my mother, "unless she's still a virgin."

My mother slapped me hard on the back, but there was no anger on her face: "Xiao Lei, you're really wicked!"

"Hey, Mom, haven't you heard? 'If a man doesn't have a woman, she won't love him.'" I giggled and dodged my mother's raised hand again.
What is Love (Part Four) Finally Becoming a Couple

Author: Vincent-xf

On Valentine's Day afternoon, I asked my mother to wear her favorite clothes and took her to an elegant restaurant for dinner. We ordered red wine, and I had also pre-ordered a red rose for her, which the waiter brought to our table. While arranging the flower in the vase, the waiter said to my mother that he was very envious to see me with such a beautiful lady as my lover. Given my mother's English level at the time, I knew she understood.

Throughout dinner, Mom acted like a shy young girl, her cheeks flushed, often appearing flustered, a stark contrast to her usual poise. It was past nine o'clock when we got home. I took out the gift wrapped in a box and asked her to open it in front of me. Inside was a set of lingerie from Victoria's Secret.

Calling it lingerie was a stretch; it consisted of a bra that barely covered half her breasts and a pair of equally thin panties.

Mom picked up the bra with a touch of shyness, then suddenly gasped in surprise. She stared at the open-crotch underwear, stammering, "This...this is open-crotch, this...how can I...wear this..."

I tried my best to control my wildly beating heart and leaned close to her ear, my voice trembling slightly, "Wearing it will show you everything."

Mom stared at the underwear and whispered, "Xiao Lei, do you really want me to wear this..."

I hugged Mom's waist, "Can you wear it for me now?"

Mom took a long breath and said in an almost inaudible voice, "Wait here, don't come in."

I was sitting on the sofa, lost in thought, when Mom's voice came from the bedroom: "Xiao Lei, close your eyes." I closed my eyes, listening as Mom opened the bedroom door, walked to me, and gently said, "Open them."

I took a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes. My mother stood almost naked in front of me, her legs pressed tightly together. Through the semi-transparent fabric, I could see a patch of dark pubic hair. I reached out and wrapped my arms around her buttocks from behind, gently rubbing my face against her lower abdomen. I heard her whisper, "Xiao Lei, shall I dance for you?" I nodded and released my arms.

My mother took a few steps back, closed her eyes, and began to dance a dance I had never seen before. The movements were not large, mainly just swaying of the limbs. I quickly realized it was a courtship dance, probably from my mother's ethnic group. Many of the movements were heart-pounding, some directly simulating sexual intercourse. As my mother danced, my penis hardened, creating a tent in my pants. I began to take off my clothes piece by piece, but stopped when I was down to my underwear. My mother was still dressed; I should wait. My mother ignored me, completely immersed in the dance, until it was over, when she finally sat back down on the sofa. Her eyes were closed, her chest heaving, and tiny beads of sweat glistened in the lamplight.

I leaned down and first gently kissed my mother's lips, then began to kiss her deeply, while simultaneously reaching for her breasts and unhooking her bra. My mouth slid down her body, from her face to her ears, neck, breasts, finally taking one of her nipples into my mouth. My mother let out a soft moan, her body trembling slightly. I suckled and kissed her nipple after nipple, like a nursing mother, feeling her hand gently stroking my hair.

After a while, I looked up and whispered in my mother's ear, "Mom, can I give you the second gift?"

My mother nodded almost imperceptibly. I knelt on the carpet facing her and reached out to separate her legs, which were pressed together. My mother instinctively resisted for half a second, then let my hand part her legs.

Through the cigar-shaped slit in her panties, I saw my mother's vulva for the first time. Her pubic hair was thick and black, even covering her labia majora. Her labia minora were shaped like two plump rose petals, parted open due to engorgement, revealing a moist pink center. Suddenly, I felt an indescribable sense of disproportion: Had I, a grown person, actually come into this world from this slit less than ten centimeters long? This feeling lasted for a second or two before being replaced by lust.

I bent down, inhaled deeply the air filled with the scent of her vulva, and sucked on my mother's labia minora one by one, then gently pulled the petals apart with my hands, licking the slightly parted vaginal opening with my tongue. Accompanied by my mother's moans, I inserted most of my tongue into her vagina, mimicking the movements of her vagina. After a few minutes, my tongue moved upwards, lightly touching the urethra, and then sucked my mother's clitoris into my mouth. Mom took a deep breath and held my head with her hands. I hugged her thighs tightly, while quickly rubbing her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. Mom's moans became more and more frequent, and she pressed my head firmly against her vulva with both hands.

I licked for several more minutes, and just as my tongue began to stiffen from fatigue, Mom suddenly lifted her buttocks, thrusting her vulva forward, while simultaneously clamping my head between her legs, letting out a hissing sound. This position lasted for about ten seconds, then she quieted down, her body limp on the bed. I looked up and saw her eyes closed, her breathing still a little rapid, but her expression was one of complete relaxation and satisfaction. Mom lay motionless for a few minutes, then opened her eyes and smiled at me, a smile filled with a shyness I had never seen before.

I lightly kissed Mom's lips and whispered in her ear if she liked my second gift. She didn't answer, just kept kissing me. While returning the kiss, I took off my underwear, placed Mom's hand on my throbbing penis, and said, "This is my third gift, shall I put it inside you?"

Mom slightly lifted her buttocks from the sofa, letting me take off her underwear. With one hand, I parted her labia minora, and with the other, I aimed my penis at her vaginal opening. I thrust forward, and the head of my penis, swollen like a ripe plum, slid into my mother's slippery vagina. I wanted to go all the way in, but I decided not to let my first encounter with my mother end too quickly.

I inserted it inch by inch, each inch feeling like my whole being gradually sliding into my mother's body, returning to that warm, safe, and comfortable home. I felt a bit like I was dreaming; the world around me dissolved into a misty void, the only proof of my existence being the tingling sensation emanating from my penis.

Suddenly, the head of my penis touched a hard protrusion—my mother's cervix. She groaned softly, "All the way in."

I looked down at where we were joined and said, "Just over two inches more to go in."

Mom touched my penis, which was still outside, and said hesitantly, "Go in slowly."

I slowly pushed forward, the head of my penis gently sliding past the cervix, finally reaching the very back of her vagina. Mom waited until I was fully inside, then let out a long breath, her tense body relaxing. She chuckled and whispered, "The road to Shu is harder than climbing to heaven."

I laughed and replied, "Once you've cleared the path, it'll be easy from now on." As I spoke, I pulled my penis out and then thrust it in all the way again.

The intense pleasure made me lose control. Ignoring my mother's soft moans, I thrust in and out vigorously. In less than two minutes, I felt an itch spreading from my penis throughout my body, a spasm in my lower abdomen, and my semen gushed out like a burst dam, wave after wave, deep into my mother's vagina. After ejaculating, I collapsed onto my mother.

I drifted off to sleep for a few minutes, then woke to find myself still on top of her, my penis soft but still inside her. She looked at me lovingly, one arm around my waist, the other gently stroking my hair.

I gently kissed her and said, "Mom, dear Mom, I love you!" My upper body shifted, and my penis slipped out of her vagina.

"Your semen is leaking out, quickly wipe it off for me," my mother said. I grabbed a few tissues from the coffee table and wiped away the milky white semen slowly flowing from her half-open vaginal opening.

Suddenly, I remembered something: "Mom, I... I prepared condoms, but... I forgot to use them," I stammered.

Mom placed a tissue between her legs, sat up from the sofa, and kissed me: "Don't worry, my period just ended two days ago. Xiaolei, shall we go to bed?"

That night, Mom and I made love three times before I finally fell asleep.

The next morning, I opened my eyes and saw Mom propped herself up on the pillow, quietly watching me. Remembering last night, I reached out and hugged her: "Mom, what are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at my bad son, my good man," Mom said softly, pressing her face against my chest.

As I stroked her back and buttocks, I whispered, "Mom, did you enjoy it last night?"

Mom hummed in response, her face flushed, and said, "But...you were so good! My lower body is still a little hot."

I kissed her and said with a smile, "I'm sorry, I'll make amends and lick it for you."

I thought Mom would refuse, but to my surprise, she nodded shyly and said, "I'll go wash up first."

I rolled over and pinned her to the bed, laughing, "Licking like this is more enjoyable."

Mom struggled and said, "I haven't washed since last night! You might not mind, but I do! If you lick like this, you can't kiss my mouth later!"

"It's a deal." I laughed as I parted her legs and, before she could react, took half of her vulva into my mouth.

Less than two minutes later, Mom "came." I climbed on top of her and gently kissed her on the lips.

Mom opened her eyes, pretending to be angry, and said, "Your lips are so smelly, you're not allowed to kiss me."

I kissed her again and said, "If you agree to one condition, I'll forgive you."

Mom turned her head away from my lips and asked, "What condition?"

"You have to tell me where the smell on your lips is coming from."

"I won't tell you." Mom laughed and covered her mouth with her hand, preventing me from kissing her again.

I put my right hand under her armpit and asked, "Will you tell me or not?"

Mom was ticklish and quickly begged for mercy, "I'll tell you, it's from... down there."

"Not specific enough!" I wouldn't let her off the hook and tickled her.

Mom laughed and said, "Xiao Lei, please, stop scratching me. Take your hand away and I'll tell you." Seeing that I agreed, she put her mouth to my ear and whispered, "The smell on your breath is my smell. Are you satisfied now? You little rascal!" Then she hugged me tightly.

I could no longer resist the physical contact and verbal teasing. While kissing Mom frantically, I freed one hand and inserted my penis into her vagina. Mom's body swayed up and down with my thrusts. She kissed me nonstop until I ejaculated. She stroked my face and whispered, "Xiao Lei, you're so good."

My heart was filled with love for her, and a question arose: "Mom, before you went to university, what did the young men in your village call you?"

Mom looked at me, puzzled, and said, "Everyone in the village called me A-Chen."

"Can I call you Sister A-Chen?" I asked.

Mom paused for a moment, then chuckled, "Wrong. You should call me Sister Chen, and I'll call you Brother Lei!" She kissed me, avoiding my gaze, and said, "Xiao Lei, you're my man, you can call me whatever you want."

Then I remembered something else: "Sister Chen, can I move in with you?"

Mom nodded, then suddenly blushed, "Could you go buy some birth control pills today?"

"I'll buy some condoms, then you won't need to take the pills," I suggested.

Mom blushed even more, "I...I don't want to feel distant from you."

"Mom, I love you!" At that moment, those were the only words I could think of.

My mother and I became husband and wife in name only. I wanted to make love to her every moment, but she insisted I be moderate, saying that too much frequency was bad for my health. I still tried my best to help her with housework, and she didn't completely refuse, saying that sharing some housework was good for men. During the day, my mother studied English, and I went to school; after dinner, we sometimes chatted about everything under the sun, sometimes snuggled together watching TV, and sometimes simply stared at each other intently, as if we could never get enough of each other. We liked to press our bodies together and dance slowly to the music. At these times, I liked to slip my hand inside my mother's underwear from behind and gently caress her smooth and elastic buttocks. I was extremely satisfied with my life; even my tutor half-jokingly, half-seriously said that I must have a beautiful girlfriend.

I neither admitted nor denied it, but I felt a sweet warmth in my heart.

I only had one worry: my mother never reached orgasm during intercourse. My knowledge of sex was very limited at that time. I knew that Kelly could orgasm. According to her, this kind of orgasm was more intense than the one obtained from licking the vulva.

As for Penny and Eva, they would scream wildly during intercourse, so I naturally assumed they were like Kelly.

(Many years later, I saw on the internet that American women often fake orgasms to please men and to show they weren't frigid. Whether Penny and Eva did this, I have no way of knowing.)

So I assumed every woman could achieve orgasm during intercourse, which was the real meaning behind the third gift I wanted to give my mother on Valentine's Day.

But more than two weeks passed, and my mother showed no signs of orgasm. I was completely baffled, feeling like I owed her something. Finally, I decided to ask Kelly again.

Kelly and I found a corner to sit down in a coffee shop we used to frequent. She was writing her doctoral dissertation, hoping to graduate in the summer. Because I hadn't mentioned the reason for the meeting on the phone, she asked me with some concern what was wrong. I stammered that my mother and I were living together. Kelly hesitated for a moment, then cautiously asked if I had changed my mind. I shook my head.

"Is your mother happy with this arrangement?"

Kelly asked again.

"My mother loves me very much and is very happy, but..." My face flushed red, feeling embarrassed to talk about this with a stranger, "but she doesn't have an orgasm during sex."

Kelly unabashedly breathed a sigh of relief, half-jokingly saying, "Isn't your tongue quite useful?"

"I didn't mean with my mouth. I mean... during intercourse," I explained.

Kelly understood my question and told me that not every woman can orgasm through intercourse, and as long as my mother enjoys oral sex, there's nothing to worry about. I wasn't satisfied and asked if I could ask her a personal question. Kelly nodded.

"Did you achieve orgasm like this from the beginning, or later...?"

She smiled, drew a cross-section of the female genitalia on a napkin, and then emphasized a spot on the anterior vaginal wall, saying:

"The area two or three inches inside the vaginal opening is very sensitive, called the 'spot.' Start by using your fingers to stimulate that spot. If your mother feels the urge to urinate, you've found the right spot. Continue stimulating it; some women can achieve an orgasm more intense than oral sex."

I thanked her profusely. Kelly said she hoped I would succeed, but not to take it too seriously.

"Making your mother feel that you truly love her is more important than anything else. Also, make sure to trim your nails before stimulating, otherwise it's not safe," she said.

That night, while licking my mother's vulva, I massaged the anterior vaginal wall with my index and middle fingers as Kelly had instructed. At first, my mother didn't react. After massaging for a while, Mom suddenly said, "Stop picking at it. You're making me feel like I need to pee."

I was secretly pleased and said, "Just bear with it, it'll be fine in a bit."

But I was too optimistic. Not only did the finger massage have no effect, but I also found it difficult to reach the sensitive spot with my penis, because that area of the vagina is concave towards the lower abdomen, not in the path of penetration. I tried for over a week, and apart from Mom getting used to the urge to urinate caused by the finger massage, I made no progress. Maybe Kelly was right, not every woman has a sensitive spot for orgasm.

In mid-March, my mentor and I went to a conference out of town. The conference was three days long, but the host, a former student of my mentor, let us stay an extra day, showing great hospitality. I missed my mother and longed to go home, but out of politeness, I had to pretend to be happy.

I returned home on the evening of the fourth day. Mom laid out rice porridge and pickles she bought from Chinatown for me, saying it was good to eat something light since I had just gotten off the plane. I quickly ate a few bites, just to get it over with. Then I pulled Mom into my arms, and a kiss lasted for several minutes.

I took a breath and gently nibbled on her earlobe as I asked, "Mom, did you miss me?"

Mom rested her face on my shoulder and hummed

in agreement. "Did you miss me or my dick?" I pressed my advantage.

Mom kissed me and said in an almost inaudible voice, "Both."

I pulled her to sit on the sofa, slipped one hand inside her bra, and rubbed her already hardened nipples with my thumb and forefinger. Mom's breathing became heavier and heavier. Suddenly, she asked in a hoarse voice close to my ear, "Do you really like my pungent smell?"

It was the first time I'd heard Mom use a vulgar word, and I nodded excitedly.

"I didn't wash this morning, I saved it for you," Mom continued.

I pinched her nipple and laughed, "No wonder there was only rice porridge and pickled vegetables earlier. Turns out the best was saved for last..."

Suddenly, an idea struck me. I ran into the bedroom, grabbed a thick quilt and spread it on the dining table, then grabbed a pillow. I pulled Mom off the sofa, quickly stripped her naked, and placed her on the table. I lifted her legs and pushed them against her chest, then placed the pillow under her buttocks, making her vulva the most prominent part of her body.

I pulled up a chair and sat at the table, gently parting her labia, and said with a smile, "The last dish is called 'Morning Clam with Dew.'" Afraid my mother wouldn't understand, I looked at her from between her legs and said, "'Chen' in 'morning' is your name. 'Clam' is what it means."

I opened and closed her labia a few times, then continued, "As for the dew inside the clam, that's the essence of this dish."

Because her vulva was only inches from my face, I smelled a strong, fishy odor. Before my mother could respond, I lowered my head slightly and buried my face between her wet, fleshy "clams."

I sucked for a while, then my mother suddenly pushed my head away, saying in a hoarse voice, "I don't want your mouth, I want your cock."

I stood up, parted her labia minora with one hand, and aimed my purplish-red, glistening penis at her half-open vaginal opening with the other. I thrust forward, and half of my penis disappeared into her vagina. Just as I was about to push further in, I suddenly remembered that my mother's buttocks were positioned high; I was inserting from below, from front to top, with the head of my penis pointing directly at her nipples. I pushed the pillow up, elevating her lower body. Then, I placed one hand on her lower abdomen, gently pressing down, and with the other hand, I guided my penis, aiming at her nipples and thrusting forcefully. After more than ten minutes, I was drenched in sweat, and my mother's moans grew louder, waves of itching spreading from my penis throughout her body. I could no longer hold back, and streams of hot semen shot into my mother's vagina.

My mother clearly knew I had ejaculated, panting as she begged me, "No, don't stop!" She swayed her body back and forth, taking the initiative.

Fortunately, my penis didn't immediately go soft after ejaculation. I took a breath and, in sync with my mother's movements, repeatedly thrust in and out of her. After another twenty or thirty thrusts, my mother suddenly tensed up, her vagina convulsing violently, and a high-pitched sound came from her throat.

"Success!" I had barely finished thinking those three words when I saw a stream of liquid spurt from my mother's vulva, spraying all the way onto my chest. At first, I thought I was seeing things, but I quickly realized it wasn't an illusion. The liquid was shooting out of her urethra, a total of four times. The first three times were very powerful, shooting directly onto me, while the last one seemed weak. At that moment, my mother's vagina was still convulsing, but her body was already limp.

After a while, my mother opened her eyes, pulled me to her side, kissed me, and murmured, "Xiao Lei, you're killing me... Can you carry me to the bed?"

I picked up her soft body and went into the bedroom. I stroked her hair and asked, "Chen, did you feel good just now?"

"Yes, you're so kind," Mom said, looking intently at me.

"What did it feel like just now?" I asked.

Mom thought for a few seconds, as if recalling what had just happened, and then slowly said:

"You were licking so comfortably, but I always felt... empty inside, wanting you. From the beginning, you were making me want to pee. At first, I held it in, but then it felt quite good. Then... I can't explain it, I just wanted you to keep thrusting in that spot. Then, I felt like my lower body was melting, I couldn't control myself..." Mom paused, her face turning bright red. She glanced at me shyly, somewhat flustered, and said, "Did I... just pee?"

I kissed her forehead and replied with a smile, "Not only did you pee, but you peed really high, spraying all over me!"

Mom's face turned even redder: "I felt like I couldn't control myself, and at that moment... I didn't want to control myself. My lower body relaxed, and it felt like my whole body melted into water and flowed away. I'll try next time, maybe I can hold it in."

Seeing her bewildered expression, I hugged her and said, "Mom, as long as you're comfortable, pee whenever you need to. Don't hold it in. We can just put more towels under you from now on."

"You're so good to me," Mom said, resting her head against my chest.

I smiled. "Besides, watching your body gush water like a geyser is quite exciting. I hope it happens every year, every month, every day!"

"I knew you weren't up to any good!" Mom lightly bit my shoulder.

“Mom, it’s not fair that I always ejaculate first. From now on, I’ll ejaculate, and you’ll urinate. That’s true gender equality.” I paused, then continued, half-jokingly, half-seriously, “I promised you I’d take good care of you and make you happy, and today I’m finally fulfilling a little of that promise.”

Before I could finish, Mom giggled. After a while, she stopped laughing and said, pretending to be serious, “You’re such a dutiful son, making your mother incontinent. There aren’t many in the world who can compare to you!”

Much later, I learned from a book that what Mom sprayed wasn’t urine, but a liquid similar to male semen. Of course, it didn’t contain sperm. Kelly was right; not all women experience orgasm. And not all women who experience orgasm ejaculate. As for Mom being able to spray semen so far, it might be related to her years of dance training and well-developed pelvic muscles.
What is Love (Part 5)

A small incident occurred in early April, yet it impacted my mother's and my lives forever. Our graduate student apartment required a cockroach extermination every spring. That morning, I had just finished breakfast and was about to go to the lab when the cockroach extermination worker arrived. Upon learning we were from China, he began speaking in a strange, accented Chinese, saying he had studied Chinese before and wanted to travel to China. Then he said to me, "Your wife is very beautiful."

My mother opened her mouth to explain, but I quickly thanked him, acknowledging our marital relationship. Actually, I didn't have any particular motive. My mother looked very young, and Americans often couldn't tell the age of Asians, plus almost everyone in the apartment was a couple, so this guy's talkativeness was understandable; I didn't need to explain to him. Besides, who knows if our explanation would lead to more nonsense? I didn't want to waste my breath arguing with him. I thanked him, said "bye" to my mother, and left.

In the hallway, I heard that guy stammering again, "Your child must be very beautiful too."

The experiment went smoothly that day, but I kept feeling like there was something I should do, but I couldn't remember what it was. When I got home that evening, my mother said at dinner,

"Xiaolei, why did you admit to that worker this morning that we were husband and wife? What if he tells everyone?"

"Don't worry, Americans don't care about other people's business. Besides, he can't even tell who's who among Chinese people, so no one would believe me even if he did," I said.

My mother was still a little unhappy: "And even after you left, he kept going on and on, saying we should have a daughter, as beautiful as Mom..."

"Should have a daughter!" A thought struck me. This was what I had been thinking about all day but couldn't remember! When I was little, my mother often said she hoped to have a little sister for me. Now…

“Xiao Lei, what are you daydreaming about?” My mother’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I glanced at my mother and said, “Mom, didn’t you want another daughter before?”

“But I was too busy with work back then, and your father said China’s population was too large…” my mother said.

“It wasn’t possible then, but it’s possible now.” My thoughts blurted out.

My mother sighed softly, “What’s the use of saying all this? Your father is gone.”

I could feel my heart pounding, but I still said in a nonchalant tone, “Dad’s gone, but I’m still here!”

My mother looked at me in confusion for several seconds, then suddenly looked away, her face flushed, and she whispered, “Don’t talk nonsense!”

“Mom, I’m not joking with you.” I sat down next to my mother and gently hugged her.

Mom sighed and said, "I'm getting old. Besides, even if I have a child, should he call you 'brother' or 'dad'?"

"Mom, you just turned thirty-nine a few months ago. Many women in their forties have children these days."

As I spoke, I gathered my thoughts, "If we really have a daughter, as long as your wish is fulfilled, it doesn't matter what you call me. Think about it, me calling you Mom doesn't bother me..." I whispered in my mother's ear, "...I'll make you wet yourself."

My mother chuckled. She gently pushed me away, saying, "Alright, having children is no small matter. Let's eat first. It's getting cold."

For several days, I noticed my mother often seemed lost in thought and spoke very little. Saturday morning, I lay in bed with my eyes closed as usual, gently massaging my mother's breast with one hand. She suddenly said, "I've thought it over. I can't have a child with you." Seeing the disappointment on my face, she kissed me and continued,

"I have always wanted another child, preferably a daughter. You're right, since we're already husband and wife, societal norms don't really matter. But we're close relatives, and I'm getting older. If I have a child with defects, it would harm her. Besides, if I go abroad for a few years and come back with a child, the gossip around me would be devastating."

I had to admit she had a point. Mom paused, then said, "Xiaolei, I know you also want to fulfill a wish for me. But I'm content with being with you now. When you graduate and come back to China, find a good girl and give me a granddaughter."

Seeing my still sullen expression, Mom reached out and grasped my penis, rubbing the edge of the head with her thumb. When I became aroused, she rolled over and straddled me, aligning her vagina with the head of my penis, and lowered herself, inserting it into her. She leaned down and hugged me, kissing me and murmuring, "My dear Xiaolei, I love you."

I didn't mention having a daughter to Mom again. Since I knew her thoughts, instead of empty words, I should try to clear the obstacles first. Mom was worried about two things: genetic defects in the child and gossip after returning to China. I was healthy, so I didn't need to worry about genes from my father. I

made several calls to hospitals and family planning services and found a genetic specialist. He checked existing databases for me and found no recorded genetic diseases in my mother's ethnicity. Regarding consanguineous marriage (I had made up a story about a cousin falling in love beforehand),

he said there's a rare type of hereditary anemia in Asians that can be detected with a blood test. He also suggested inquiring about any previous consanguineous marriages in the family and the situation of their offspring.

I immediately wrote to a cousin (my uncle's child) saying I was participating in a survey on genetic diseases in Asian populations and asked him for help in understanding the situation. While waiting for a reply, I went to the hospital for a hereditary anemia test, which came back negative. I also learned that if a fetus has obvious congenital defects, an ultrasound examination at the twentieth week of pregnancy can detect them. A month later, my cousin replied. He said he hadn't heard of anyone in the family having a congenital disease. A distant uncle married his cousin, and their children, one working in the county government and the other in university, are both healthy. At this point, I preliminarily ruled out the possibility of a genetic disease.

To avoid trouble after returning to China, the simplest option is to stay abroad. I've been in the US for almost three years now. I've completed all my coursework, passed my doctoral qualifying exams, and am currently working on a research project with my advisor. I've decided to strive to graduate by the end of the year and try to find a job in the US that allows me to change my immigration status. To be honest, I'm not sure if this plan will be successful. But my mother's concerns about my age are valid. A book about childbirth says that older mothers are more susceptible to negative health effects. My mother will be forty by the end of the year, and the sooner she gets pregnant, the better, provided I find a long-term job in the US.

I started working on my project intensively, getting up early and coming home late, even spending Saturdays in the lab. My mother, unaware of my plans, has repeatedly urged me to relax and not overwork myself, seeing how busy I am.

"You're only twenty," she says, "many people haven't even finished college at that age. No matter how good your academic work is, you can't succeed without good health." Her eyes always well up with tears when she says this.

Not wanting to disappoint her before anything was even going to happen, I kissed her while telling her that the busiest phase would soon be over. Mom also advised me to reduce the frequency of sex, and I agreed. Indeed, having a head full of experimental data and questions could lower libido. However, what I missed during the week, I always had to make up for on the weekend. My mom and I's sex marathon usually started on Saturday night and lasted until noon on Sunday. During this time, my penis almost never left her vagina, even while we slept.

Once, Mom half-jokingly said that our family's expenses had increased recently because she was using four times more sanitary pads than before. I asked her stupidly why, and she laughed and patted my face lightly, saying:

"Every Sunday morning, my belly is filled with egg whites by you. If I don't use sanitary pads, I can't go to the supermarket in the afternoon!"

Early May marked the second anniversary of Dad's death. All day, Mom was listless, and when she did speak, it was incoherent. I went home early in the afternoon and prepared dinner. Mom ate a few bites and went back to her bedroom. I cleaned the table and kitchen, then went into the bedroom and saw Mom lying motionless on her side, fully clothed, on the bed.

"Mom, are you alright?" I asked softly.

"I'm not sick, I just want to lie here quietly for a while," she said.

I thought for a moment and said, "Mom, I'll sleep outside tonight."

Just as I was about to turn away, Mom said, "Don't go. Turn off the light, come to bed and hug me..."

I lay down on the bed and hugged her from behind. We remained motionless in the darkness, quietly embracing each other, Mom's back pressed against my front, but I felt no lust, only love for Mom, gratitude for everything she had done for me, and a willingness to do anything for her happiness. I don't know how much time passed, but we both fell asleep.

The next morning, when I woke up it was already past nine o'clock, and Mom was still asleep. I quietly got out of bed, went to the living room, and called the lab to tell them I had some things to do and wouldn't be there until noon. I planned to do some housework and prepare lunch so my mother could rest a little longer. After washing up, I was about to go to the rooftop to do laundry when my mother called me from the bedroom.

I went to the bedside, sat down beside her, and asked, "Mom, are you feeling better?"

My mother smiled and said, "I slept, and I feel much better." She paused for a few seconds, then continued, "Xiaolei, your father and I were married for twenty years. He was very good to me; he never argued with me. I can't forget him..."

"Mom, I understand." I thought for a moment, then asked, half out of curiosity and half out of conversation, "Your father and I really never argued?"

My mother squinted, as if reminiscing, and said, "Your father was very easygoing; he always went along with me. There were only two things in his life that he wouldn't compromise on, and I listened to him on those."

"What two things?" My curiosity was piqued.

My mother stared blankly into space, smiled, and then said softly, "One thing is letting you go to university early, and the other thing..." A blush crept onto her face. "It's not having a second child. He said China's population is too large, and having children will affect my career."

A surge of emotion welled up inside me, but I decided not to tell my mother my plans yet. She paused for a moment, then turned her gaze to my face, touching my hand and saying,

"I overheard you on the phone asking for leave. Shall we use this time to talk for a while?"

I nodded.

After breakfast, we sat on the sofa. Mom looked into my eyes and asked, "Xiaolei, don't you regret our relationship?"

My heart tightened, and I quickly replied, "Not at all!"

Mom placed her hand on my leg and gently said, "You know incest violates social norms. Hasn't it affected you at all?"

I told the truth, "At first, I felt guilty when I thought of you as a woman. But not anymore, because I love you, and I know you love me."

Mom stared into my eyes for a moment and said, "Promise me that if you feel uncomfortable about our relationship, you will tell me."

I nodded and asked, "Mom, why did you think of this?"

Mom sat silently for a while, then slowly said, "There are three things that worry me. First, I'm afraid societal norms will put pressure on you, affecting your studies and career. Since you say you're not under pressure now, I believe you. Second, I'm worried our current relationship will affect your future girlfriend search. Also, I'm worried I won't be able to live without you..."

"Mom, I'll never leave you. I'll marry you after I graduate!" My heartfelt words blurted out.

Mom, of course, didn't understand the context of my words. A blush rose to her face, and she laughed, saying, "Don't talk nonsense... Xiaolei, Kelly is nine years older than you, and I'm nineteen. You've never dated a girl your own age. If you're so young and already committed to an old lady, it's unfair to yourself."

I knew she was joking, but she was worried about my future. I decided to "confess" to Panny and Eva. I told her, and Mom listened. When the topic of partner swapping came up, Mom frowned at first, then her face turned bright red.

When Eva was mentioned, Mom stared at me with wide eyes, looking surprised.

Finally, I said, "Mom, it was with you that I learned what love is. Before that, I only knew about sex. But I've dated young girls, and I didn't find them particularly alluring."

"I told you America corrupted you, and I was right," Mom said. After a few minutes of silence, she suddenly whispered, "Xiao Lei, I haven't really looked at your penis properly yet."

This was a reaction I hadn't expected. I stood up and began to undress in front of Mom. When I was down to my underwear, Mom stopped me and made me lie down on the bed. She knelt beside me, slowly removing my underwear, and then examined my erect penis like it was a piece of porcelain, occasionally smearing the fluid from my urethra onto the tip. A tingling sensation spread throughout my body. I reached out and lifted my mother's long skirt, pulled down her panties, and made her straddle me, her vulva directly in front of my face. The stimulation of my penis, her wide-open vulva, and the familiar scent excited me immensely. I pulled my mother's buttocks down, rubbing her moist labia against my face. Between her round buttocks, full thighs, and radiating heat from her vulva, I felt an indescribable sense of fullness and satisfaction, as if all worldly troubles and worries had become meaningless.

I don't know how much time passed before my mother's moans brought me back to reality. Her body stiffened for a few seconds, then she turned and slumped beside me, saying, "Lei, I want you."

As I thrust my penis into her vagina, I asked, "You've already looked closely at my penis. What do you think?"

My mother gave me a mischievous look and said, "It's different from yours. You seem quiet and well-mannered. But your penis is big and thick, reddish-purple, and it sticks up and down, like it's very arrogant."

I smiled and decided to retaliate: "Don't just talk about me. Yours is very different too. Looking at how pretty you are, with your white and smooth skin, who would have thought your labia would be so dark and covered in hair, like Li Kui's face?"

My mother narrowed her eyes and asked with a teasing smile, "Do I have more hair than Eva?... Ouch, you bad boy, you're killing me!"

Summer passed in the blink of an eye. In early September, my research finally yielded preliminary results. My advisor was very excited, saying we had opened up a new direction for the research and application of this topic. I took the opportunity to express my hope to graduate by the end of the year and try to find a job in the United States. Seeing his questioning look, I added that my eagerness to do so was for important "personal reasons," hoping he could understand.

His blue eyes stared at me for a full three minutes, then he raised his eyebrows and said, "Only love can make a smart guy like you give up a much brighter career." He promised to immediately write to his connections at the company to recommend me and offered very detailed suggestions for my next research steps.

I often think about it afterward; I not only learned the latest knowledge from him, but also his kindness and selflessness. He was a good old man.

At the end of September, three companies expressed interest in my research and wanted me to have interviews. My first choice was a large company on the West Coast. This company not only has a strong research department, but the state it's in also allows abortion. This condition is very important. In case the fetus has defects, I want my mother to have a choice.

The interview went even better than I expected. The vice president in charge of research, a former classmate of my advisor, said unequivocally that I could work for his company as soon as I got my PhD. He also readily agreed to my request to change my immigration status. This trip was truly fruitful.

Back home, I couldn't contain my excitement and picked up my mother, spinning her around twice in the living room.

"Put me down! What's making you so happy?" my mother asked with a smile.

"Mom, I'll graduate at the end of the year, and a company wants to hire me and has promised to sponsor my immigration!"

I blurted out, only to find my mother staring blankly at me, not understanding at all. I then realized that my mother knew neither my overall plan nor the specific purpose of my trip.

I pulled her to sit on the sofa and said, "Mom, as long as I stay in America, you can stay there long-term and have children without worrying about gossip when we return to China. I have a job now, and you can get pregnant soon!"

My mother looked at me silently for a while, then suddenly her eyes reddened. "Xiaolei, you've been working like crazy on your research this summer, is it all for this?"

Seeing me nod, she sighed and murmured, "If I had known that one sentence of mine would exhaust you like this, I wouldn't have..." Before she could finish, tears streamed down her

face. I hugged my mother and said, "Mom, graduating early means earning money early, it's not a bad thing. Besides, I've been a son for twenty-one years, I want to experience being a father!"

"Shameless!" My mother laughed through her tears, her face flushed. She glanced at me and asked, "What if the child is born with a disability?"

I told her the information I'd gathered over the past few months, then hugged my mother and said in a pleading tone, "Mom, I've done everything I can. You should contribute something too."

My mother kissed me on the cheek and said, "This isn't a small matter. Let me think about it some more."

The next morning, when I woke up, my mother had already prepared breakfast. Halfway through eating, my mother suddenly stared at the porridge and said:

"I haven't decided yet, but I'd like to have a gynecological exam at the hospital."

Mom was already interested! I jumped to her side, kissed her a few times without warning, and said, "No problem! I'll call and make an appointment right away."

"You've done everything you can. You don't need to worry about this," Mom said, half-sarcastically, half-jokingly.

I knew her English was good enough for simple daily conversations, but I was still worried: "Mom, you need to make it clear to the doctor, this isn't a routine checkup, it's for getting pregnant..."

My mother interrupted me with a laugh, "Aren't you afraid of getting gray hair from worrying so much! Go to the lab!"

A week later, one evening, as I was about to insert my penis into my mother's body, she suddenly told me to wait, then pulled a pack of condoms from under her pillow:

"The doctor said the current birth control pills have a low dosage, so you can get pregnant immediately after stopping. But I want to stop for ten days, just to be on the safe side. Ten days later, it'll be ovulation time."

My mother finally agreed! She paused, then continued, "You should reduce your frequency these next few days. That will increase your chances of getting pregnant."

I inserted my condom-covered penis into her vagina, then raised my right hand, as if making a vow, saying, "I promise, after using these three condoms, I'll start conserving my energy." I leaned down and kissed my mother, laughing, "Mom, do you remember? A year ago, I said something suggestive, and you got angry. Look how naturally you swear now!"

My mother glanced at me, then suddenly her face darkened. "Xiao Lei, you've given me an STD."

I didn't know where this came from, but my heart sank involuntarily. I knew Kelly was particularly careful about these things, but we had still had contact with others, and the possibility of contracting an STD couldn't be completely ruled out. It would be quite distressing if I had an STD, but giving it to my mother was an even greater sin.

My mother probably sensed my fear and hugged me, saying, "You swear all the time and kiss me so inappropriately.

Now I swear too. Isn't this like catching a STD from you?" She then giggled.

October 23rd, Friday, is another day I'll never forget. After dinner, my mother suggested dancing. As our bodies drew closer, my penis, as usual, became hard. My mother gently rubbed my penis with her lower abdomen a few times, squinted her eyes, and asked, "Want to carry on the family line?"

I lifted her skirt, reached into her panties, and found her vulva was already wet. I laughed and said, "Looks like you're even more eager than I am."

My mother blushed and said, "Wait here, I'll call you in." She then quickly went into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, I pushed open the bedroom door and saw an incredibly erotic scene. My mother knelt naked on the edge of the bed, her legs spread at a ninety-degree angle, her upper body bent over the bed, making her full buttocks the most prominent part of her body. From where I stood, her genitals were completely visible: between her snow-white thighs and buttocks, her large, hairy labia majora formed a cigar leaf shape, surrounding her labia minora, which parted like flower petals. Her pink vaginal opening was half-open, and her vaginal fluid glistened moistly under the light.

As if bewitched, I walked to the bed and knelt down, sucking most of her vulva into my mouth without thinking. My mother swayed her buttocks and said, "Alright, the ground is wet enough, time to plant the seed."

I stood up, took off my clothes, and inserted my throbbing, almost bursting penis into her slippery vagina.

Making love in this position was commonplace for me. But this time, the feeling was different. Watching my penis moving in and out of her vagina, I felt like I understood for the first time the fundamental function of sex: reproduction. I thought of the squid on TV, swimming thousands of miles to their spawning grounds, only to die thousands on the seabed after completing their mission. For them, the meaning of life is reproduction. Do they experience pleasure at that crucial moment? I thought back to twenty-one years ago, when this vagina, which was swallowing and releasing my penis, brought me into the world, and now I was creating new life in the same organ. What could more accurately represent the cycle of life than this moment? Then, I realized how ridiculous it was to think about philosophical questions while having sex. I grinned, focused my attention on my penis, and began thrusting vigorously.

A few minutes later, I pressed my lower abdomen against my mother's buttocks and ejaculated deeply into her body.

I pulled out my limp penis, lay down beside my mother, and saw that she was still kneeling on the bed, her face flushed, covered in tiny beads of sweat, and her breathing uneven.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked.

She took a breath and whispered, "You went in really deep just now. It feels like my insides are misaligned."

I then remembered that Mom couldn't fully accommodate me in this position during sex. I regretted being distracted and forgetting to take care of her.

"I'm sorry, I forgot. But why did you choose this position?" I asked casually.

"Before I got married, the aunties in the village said this position was the easiest way to get pregnant. I don't know if it works, but it can't hurt," Mom said.

"You could have told me if I went in too deep just now," I said.

Mom hesitated, a hint of embarrassment flashing across her face, then changed the subject, saying, "I'm a little tired. It's getting late. Let's go to sleep." She snuggled up beside me and reached out to turn off the light.

Late one July night of the following year, I sat on the sofa outside the hospital delivery room, pretending to be calm as I read a magazine, but anxiously wondering how my mother was doing inside. Those nine months had flown by! My mother became pregnant the month after stopping birth control pills. Then came my dissertation defense and graduation ceremony, during which I also had to complete the hiring procedures with my company, and then the whole family moved to the West Coast. Looking back now, everything seems hazy, except for one thing that's crystal clear: after the graduation ceremony, there was a party for degree recipients and their families. I walked towards my mother in my doctoral gown and found her standing there, quietly looking at me, her eyes filled with both love and pride for her son, and satisfaction and affection for her lover. Others might not have understood her gaze, but I did. In that instant, I thought, if I took a picture of my mother at that moment, captioned "Wife and Mother," it would surely win a photography contest.

After we moved to the West Coast, we rented a luxury apartment in the suburbs, far from our company. Most of our neighbors were "yuppies" working in the high-tech industry. This was Kelly's idea. She graduated six months before me and was an assistant professor at a university in Canada. She said that yuppies generally don't care about other people's business, and many are workaholics, often leaving early and returning late, saving us a lot of trouble.

It turned out she was right. We've lived here for over six months, and I've only seen the guy across the hall four times in total, always at the elevator entrance, and we always just exchanged a greeting and went our separate ways. Not long after we moved in, I stroked my mother's slightly protruding belly and suggested we get married in Las Vegas, since no one here would know we were mother and son. Mom shook her head and said,

"Now that you're working, there will be many occasions where you'll need to bring your wife along after you get married. It's not in line with the local custom if you don't take me, and that won't last. If you take me, you might run into old classmates and friends. It's good that we're like this now, quiet and peaceful, and no one bothers us."

I thought what she said made sense, so I stopped mentioning marriage. In the twentieth week of her pregnancy, my mother went for an ultrasound, which confirmed that the fetus had no obvious defects. The doctor asked her if she wanted to know the baby's gender, and she said she didn't, as long as the baby was healthy, that was enough.

The due date was approaching. Around 1 a.m. that night, my mother woke me up, saying it was time to go to the hospital. It was already past 3 a.m. How was my mother? Would she have a difficult labor? Was the baby really without defects? Was it a boy or a girl? I thought about all this without any clue, and unconsciously fell asleep.

"Sir, would you like to go in and see your mother?" The nurse's voice startled me awake.

I looked at the clock; it was just past 6 a.m. I followed the nurse into the delivery room and saw my mother lying on the bed with her hair disheveled, clutching a small pink baby to her chest. She saw me, smiled weakly, and lifted the little bundle of flesh, saying, "It's a girl. There's nothing wrong with her at all."

My heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled down. If the nurses hadn't been there, I would have hugged and kissed my mother endlessly. Because both mother and daughter were healthy, the hospital sent them home the next day.

That evening, after cleaning the kitchen, I went into the bedroom and saw my mother breastfeeding. She looked at me, smiling, and said, "Lei, what name should we give the baby?"

I shared my thoughts after thinking about it all day: "How about 'Xiaoyu'? 'Xiao' means dawn, and 'yu' means rain. She was born in the early morning, and it was raining outside. And," I paused, "Xiao also subtly echoes the 'chen' in your name."

My mother nodded and said, "That's a very simple name, let's call her Xiaoyu."

I continued, "You've thought about this daughter for twenty years, let her take your surname."

My mother looked up from Xiaoyu's face, gazing at me affectionately, and said, "No, she's your daughter, she should take your surname… However, since she calls me 'Mom,' you'll have to be her older brother, even if it's a little difficult."

This sounded perfectly reasonable, and I nodded.

I initially thought Xiaoyu's arrival would disrupt our lives, but Mom arranged everything perfectly, and Xiaoyu's sleep patterns matched ours. So, aside from her occasional nighttime awakenings, life went smoothly for me. Mom had plenty of breast milk, more than Xiaoyu could finish, so I was happy to help.

One evening, Mom was half-sitting, half-lying on the bed, feeding Xiaoyu with one nipple while I held the other in my mouth. I was intently suckling when I suddenly felt a drop of water fall on my face. I looked up and saw tears welling up in Mom's eyes. I was startled and at a loss for what to do, hurriedly asking, "Mom, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

Mom smiled and said, "I'm not feeling unwell, I'm just happy. I have a son and a daughter, my son is successful, and I have a man who loves me dearly. A woman who achieves this wouldn't trade her emperor's throne for anything..."

Speaking of loving my mother, I remembered a question: "Mom, was it very painful when you gave birth?"

Mom thought for a moment and said, "It was painful, but easier than when I gave birth to you. I originally thought that at my age, it would be more difficult..."

"I told you you weren't old!" I said. “However…” I changed my mind and gave her a teasing look, saying, “Yours is probably not as tight as it was twenty years ago.”

My mother glanced at me, her face darkening, and said, “You rascal, you’re really good at complaining! Your big donkey’s dick has been pounding in and out of me for a year and a half, even the tightest thing would have been loosened!”

After saying that, she giggled and pressed my head against her breast.
What is Love (VI) The waxing and waning of the moon

After the one-year lease on the apartment expired, we bought a house nearby. My mother and I each had our own bedroom, but there was a shared bathroom in between, so we didn’t need to use the outside corridor to enter each other’s bedrooms. Most of the neighbors in this area were also young yuppie families. Not only were they all busy making a living, but because of their high incomes, the distance between their houses was large, further reducing the opportunities for interaction. In terms of sex, my mother and I tried some different things, such as anal sex, but we gave up because neither of us was enthusiastic. However, we discovered that massaging the anus while licking the vulva could enhance the effect.

My work was also going well. The company valued basic research, allowing me to focus on what I wanted to do and publish articles continuously. Plus, my graduate advisor always praised me highly in his lectures, so I began to gain some recognition in my field. In short, our life was happy and peaceful. Before Xiaoyu turned five, only two things were worth mentioning.

The first was that my maternal grandfather was critically ill, and my mother and I decided to take Xiaoyu with us on a three-way trip back to China to visit him. I was initially worried about how to explain Xiaoyu to my family. My mother said,

"We're not like you Han Chinese in our area, who like to meddle in matters between men and women. As long as I don't mention it, my siblings won't ask. As for how to tell your grandparents, we can think about it on the plane."

My grandfather passed away three days after we arrived. A week later, the funeral was over. The night before I left, Grandma called me into her room and bluntly said, "I know everything about you and your mother."

I tensed up. Grandma continued, "These kinds of things aren't allowed among Han Chinese now, but they've happened in stories passed down from our ancestors. I've been watching closely these past few days, and you know how to care for your mother, acting like a man. Your mother is lucky to have you. Lei, your mother has been venturing into the Han Chinese world since she was a teenager; it hasn't been easy for her. Your father was a good man, but he passed away young. She's your woman now, and she's given you a child, so I'm entrusting her to you. If you truly care for her, let her have a few comfortable days."

Back in America, I half-jokingly said, "Grandma means I should marry you, can't you be less stubborn?"

Mom smiled and said casually, "Grandma can care for her daughter, but I can't care for my son?"

I understood the meaning of that sentence in theory, but it wasn't until several years later that I truly grasped its meaning. A funny incident occurred during this home visit, which later became a topic of banter between my mother and me.

My mother's great-aunt is over ninety years old. I brought her some gifts I bought in America. After happily accepting them, she murmured, "The emperor's family has everything they could want, even foreign things."

I was completely confused, but then she continued, "When Achen was little, I said she would fly far away when she grew up. Sure enough, before she was seventeen, she was chosen by the Han emperor. Alas, Achen is exceptionally handsome, and no one can compare to her when she dances. No one but the emperor is worthy of her."

It turns out she always thought my mother went to university to become the emperor's concubine!

When Mom heard this later, she smiled and pursed her lips, saying, "You're even more fortunate than the Han emperors! You've even got the Empress Dowager's privileges!"

The second thing. Mom started a dance school, and it became increasingly famous. After Xiaoyu turned one and a half, Mom arranged with a nearby church to borrow one of their practice rooms for dancing every morning. This way, Mom could exercise without neglecting to take care of Xiaoyu, because the room was large and only contained a piano, so Xiaoyu wouldn't be in danger even if she wandered around. Plus, it allowed Xiaoyu to be exposed to music and rhythm from a young age.

One day, a middle-aged woman named Nora happened to see my mother dancing. She was very excited, saying that she and her husband loved watching dance, but rarely saw anyone dance as well as my mother. She asked if my mother would be willing to teach their middle school daughter. My mother readily agreed. Initially, Nora's daughter learned with my mother on weekends, but later, more people wanted to learn, including elementary school students and adults, and they were divided into three classes according to their skill level. Nora volunteered to help my mother with the organization and arrangements, and insisted that my mother should charge each participant. Some of my mother's students quickly became dance stars in their respective schools, attracting even more new students.

Two years later, my mother had over a hundred students, and the teaching hours had increased from Saturday mornings to afternoons and all day Saturday on weekdays. My mother formed a performance troupe with some of her best students, performing for charities and senior citizen groups on a regular basis, and becoming an indispensable part of local celebrations during holidays. From the second year onwards, almost every year one of her students was admitted to a prestigious arts school in New York, exciting everyone in the community.

My mother was extremely grateful for Nora's help and offered several times to split the school's profits equally. Nora always smiled faintly and said, "My husband's money is enough for us."

Finally, she agreed to waive her daughter's tuition, receiving a symbolic compensation.

Peaceful days passed quickly. Before we knew it, Xiaoyu was five years old and ready for kindergarten. On the first morning of school, I took the day off and, together with my mother, took Xiaoyu to the school bus. After seeing Xiaoyu off, my mother and I walked home. Seeing me sitting on the sofa, she asked, "Aren't you going to the company?"

I reached out and pulled her into my arms, smiling, and said, "I haven't had my beauty in broad daylight for a long time; I'm making up for it today."

After Xiaoyu turned two, she slept in her own bedroom, which didn't affect my mother and me making love at night. But I work during the week, and on weekends, either my mother is teaching or Xiaoyu is around, so we rarely have a chance to be intimate during the day.

Hearing my words, my mother smiled silently and said, "You're getting old, beautiful. You'll be forty-six in just over three months."

Sunlight shone on my mother's face, and I saw the fine wrinkles around her eyes. Hearing the faint melancholy in her voice, my heart ached, and I immediately said, "I wouldn't even look at a young girl!" As I spoke, I kissed her earlobe and pulled her into my bedroom.

My mother stood quietly by the bed, letting me undress her. I quickly took off my own clothes, gently pushed my mother onto the bed, kissed her breasts for a while, then spread her legs, gazing at that familiar vulva in the morning sunlight. Perhaps because of what my mother had just said, I felt her labia majora weren't as full as when I first saw them more than six years ago. This was likely an illusion, because it was nighttime, and it was my first time being intimate with my mother, so it was impossible to see very clearly. But the topic of age naturally gave me a sense of "history." I thought about how this little cleft gave birth to me twenty-seven years ago, and then to Xiaoyu five years ago; since that Valentine's Day, this organ has almost daily transmitted my love and desire for my mother to her, while also transforming my mother's love and desire into pleasure on my penis…”

Suddenly, the vulva in front of me lifted up, touching my nose. I heard my mother say in a joking tone, “Hey, that place has already given birth to two children, and it's still worth studying so seriously! If you don't do something, I'm going to do the laundry.” I put her clitoris ,

which smelled faintly of soap, into my mouth, lubricated it with my middle finger, gently inserted it into my mother's anus, and then inserted my thumb all the way into her vagina. Amidst my mother's moans, we began to make love.

Half an hour later, we lay exhausted on the bed. My mother let out a long breath, paused for a moment, and then said, as if talking to herself, "Time flies. Xiaoyu is already in school. In two months, you'll be twenty-seven, it's time to get married."

My heart skipped a beat, and I rolled over and hugged my mother, saying, "Then let's go to Las Vegas next weekend to get married!"

My mother turned to face me and said, "Lei, listen to me. These past few years, I've been completely content with you. You love me, you cherish me, and you're so skilled in bed." She smiled and continued, “As a woman, I want to marry you and never leave you. But I’m not just a woman, I’m also your mother. No matter what happens between us, you’re still a part of me, and I can’t help but think about your future. It’s in a woman’s genes, and it won’t change. I’m nineteen years older than you, and it’s impossible for us to grow old together. I want to see you find a good girl while you’re young, settle down, and have someone to keep you company when you’re old…”

I saw through my mother’s intention and quickly interrupted her, saying, “But won’t you need someone to keep you company when you’re old?”

My mother put her hand to my lips and said, “Listen to me. I have you, and I have your family in the future. I won’t be lonely. But as things stand, who will keep you company when I’m gone? Xiaoyu is your sister, and she’ll also get married someday. You can’t spend the rest of your life at your sister’s house, can you?” "

I suddenly realized that Mom had been planning this all along, having Xiaoyu call me 'brother' from the beginning. I felt both disappointed and angry, and shouted, 'I'm still thirty or forty years away from retirement! I don't want to think about this now!'

Mom waited for me to finish, then said softly, 'But I have to think about it, whether I want to or not. Maybe it's because I'm getting older these past two years, but I'm thinking about it more and more. Xiaolei, you said you'd be filial to me. If you really want me to have a peaceful life in my old age, then promise me.'

I knew Mom meant it. If she felt she had delayed my marriage, she would feel guilty for the rest of her life, but I only wanted to spend my life with Mom!

Seeing my silence, Mom sighed and said, 'Lei, my mind is made up. If you're too stubborn, I'll go back to China. These past few years, I've saved a lot of money teaching dance; even if I don't work, it'll be enough when I go back. Besides, Xiaoyu is only five years old; going back now won't interfere with her schooling.'" "But this is a bad idea for both of us. I hope we don't come to this."

She paused for a moment, then said, "To be honest, we've been together for several years. Starting over separately won't be easy for you, and it will be difficult for me too. Fortunately, a suitable girl isn't something you can find immediately, so we have some time to adjust."

I knew that persisting would be harmful, so I had no choice but to agree for now and try to make amends later. I nodded with difficulty. For a long, long time, neither of us spoke, just staring intently at each other. I wanted to cry, and my mother's eyes were red.

Suddenly, my mother wiped her eyes with her hand, smiled, and said, "Okay, thankfully Xiaoyu can't see us like this." Her hand gently slid down my waist to my buttocks, over my thighs, and finally to my penis. "Let's make a contract. Until I have a daughter-in-law, this thing is temporarily mine to use."

I knew Mom was trying to ease the tension, but her chest felt heavy, and her penis, like a limp carrot, hung listlessly on her lap. After

that conversation, my relationship with Mom remained outwardly the same—mother and son by day, husband and wife by night. I tried several times to change her mind, but without success. Finally, I said that her decision only considered me and not herself, which was unfair.

Mom smiled faintly and said, "In the end, what I'm doing is also a kind of selfishness."

I finally realized that this time was different from seven years ago; my mother wouldn't change her mind. Seven years ago, I was only twenty, at a stage where I needed to focus on my studies. Forcing me to find a girlfriend would not only be useless but also distract me. Back then, the obstacle between my mother and me was incest, a taboo in gender ethics. But gender ethics are merely products of a certain stage of social development; they are not inherently right or wrong. Once you understand this, the obstacle disappears. Now, my mother's decision has nothing to do with ethics but stems from maternal love ingrained in human genes. Time can change ethical beliefs, but it cannot weaken maternal love. Thinking of this, my disappointment was understandable. Under my mother's expectant gaze, I reluctantly began looking for a girlfriend.

At the end of the year, I met Anna at a mid-level management meeting at my company. At that time, I had just been promoted to director of the basic research department, and Anna was the deputy manager of the North American sales department. To be fair, Anna was lovely, good-looking, and lively, without the shallowness and blind arrogance often found in many American girls. Our relationship progressed from chatting in coffee shops to kissing and hugging. Anna was very engaged during these activities, but my feelings were incredibly complex. Kissing Anna, I always thought of my mother, feeling a sense of loss mixed with guilt for being unfaithful to her. Yet, feeling Anna's warm, moist lips, I felt it was unfair to Anna to be thinking of another woman. I often asked myself what the future held for my relationship with Anna.

The ending soon came. One Friday evening at the end of March, after watching a movie with Anna, she invited me to her place. Upon entering, Anna hugged me, her lips pressed tightly against mine. My penis quickly became erect.

Anna smiled, pinched my penis through my pants, and before I could react, she unzipped my pants and pulled it out in a few quick movements. My desire was aroused, and I let her kneel down and take my penis into her mouth.

Since kissing Anna, my mother and I have tacitly stopped having sex for over two months. So, although I don't particularly enjoy oral sex, the warm, wet stimulation coming from my penis made me feel like I was about to ejaculate.

I pushed Anna's head away and said in a hoarse voice, "Show me your pussy!"

Anna turned and lay down on the sofa, took off her jeans and underwear, spread her legs, revealing her sparsely haired vulva.

I leaned down and, without thinking, sucked her clitoris into my mouth.

For the first minute or two, my mind was blank; all my actions were thoughtless. I only heard Anna say, "Put your finger in."

I inserted my thumb into her vagina, suddenly remembering that my mother would make me stimulate her anus at this time. Thinking of my mother, my heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't help but compare Anna to her. I noticed that Anna's smell was different from my mother's; besides a slightly fishy, musky smell, it also seemed to have a hint of roasted lamb skewers.

“I can’t remember who Kelly looks more like,” I thought to myself.

Perhaps I was so focused on comparing that I forgot about the action; Anna’s vulva was throbbing in front of me, seeking stimulation. I steadied myself and concentrated on sucking, licking, and probing. A few minutes later, Anna screamed and collapsed onto the sofa.

She sat up, kissed me, took a condom from the bedroom, put it on me, and said, “I!” She lay back down on the sofa, parting her thick labia minora with her hands.

“Mom never did this,” I thought, suddenly realizing I shouldn’t have Anna.

For seven years, living with my mother, sex and love were inseparable. Did I love Anna? Was I prepared to spend decades with her? Would I still be interested in other women after I was with her? In that instant, I decided to end my relationship with Anna.

I looked up at her, stammering, "Ann, I...I think...I shouldn't have..."

Anna's first reaction was, "What did I do wrong?"

I took a breath and blurted out, "It's not your fault. I...I think I have to...love someone before I can have sex with her."

We were awkwardly silent for a moment, then Anna said softly, "Thank you for being honest with me. I hope you find the girl you love. She'll be lucky."

She looked down at her naked lower body and my penis, which was wearing a condom but was already limp, and laughed self-deprecatingly, saying, "Consider it an 'ioweyouone' (I owe you one)." My face flushed, and I clumsily stuffed my penis, condom and all, back into my pants, apologizing softly.

Anna stood up and said, "No need to apologize. I really appreciate your honesty. I hope we can still be friends."

I held out my hand and said, "We can still be friends."

My friendship with Anna has lasted to this day.

On the drive home, my mood worsened. Although Anna and I parted amicably, the incident left me feeling both wronged and angry, all because of my mother's stubbornness! I returned home and angrily pushed open my mother's bedroom door. She was reading in bed; seeing me come in, she instinctively pulled the blanket up to cover her chest. Seeing my flushed face and dejected mood, she asked with concern, "Lei, are you sick? Or is it because of you and Anna..."

Hearing Anna's name, I could no longer contain my anger and shouted, "Anna, Anna! All you ever think about is Anna! Why don't you think about me! The person I love won't let me love, and the person I don't love forces me to love! Are you even being reasonable?!"

My mother had never seen me angry before, let alone so furious. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes as she whispered, "Keep your voice down, don't wake Xiaoyu."

My anger flared even more: "Everyone is more important than me! Fine, if you won't let me shout, I won't..."

I rushed to the bedside, yanked the blanket off my mother, pulled down her underwear, grabbed her feet, and dragged her to the edge of the bed. I spread her legs apart, then used my right hand to unzip my pants and pull out my penis, still in a condom. I don't know when, but my penis was already hard. Without bothering to remove the condom, I aimed my penis at my mother's vaginal opening and thrust it in. Her vagina was dry; my own vaginal lubrication was trapped inside the condom, so it took a lot of effort to insert my penis.

Throughout, my mother kept her eyes closed and remained silent, only her brow twitching with each thrust. Perhaps because the desire she had built up with Anna hadn't been released, I ejaculated within a minute or two. I pulled out my penis, dejectedly returned to my bedroom from the shared bathroom, and fell asleep immediately.

When I woke up the next day, it was already past ten in the morning. Remembering what I had done the night before, I was filled with remorse and felt I could never face my mother again. I was hiding in my bedroom, not knowing what to do, when Mom knocked on the door and came in, saying, "I heard you get up. Breakfast is warmed up." She paused briefly, then added, "Xiaoyu isn't home; she went to play with her classmates." She then left the room.

As I ate breakfast, I thought, "Whether Mom forgives me or not, I have to admit my mistake."

I went into the living room, sat down next to Mom, took a deep breath, and looked at the floor, saying, "Mom, I was wrong.

I bullied you; I... I'm such a jerk..."

Before I could finish, Mom hugged me and said, "Don't say anymore. I know you're suffering. It's not entirely your fault; I was bad too." She started crying as she spoke.

I couldn't say a word, only repeatedly thinking in my heart, "Mom, you forgave me for being so bad. I'm so sorry!"

We sat there silently, embracing each other, for a long, long time. I finally mustered the courage to say, "Mom, I know nothing I do can make up for my mistake. But I really hope I can do something for you now, as a token of my affection."

Mom leaned softly against me, remained silent for a moment, and then whispered, "Last night, my pubic area was so dry, I probably pulled out a few hairs, and it's still burning. Could you check if it's broken skin?"

Seeing me nod, she stood up and pulled me into her bedroom. She took off her lower body clothes, turned and lay down on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs apart. I knelt in front of her, gently parting the thick pubic hair, and found four or five red patches on her labia majora. Not knowing how to ease Mom's pain, I could only stick out my tongue and gently lick the swollen areas, my heart filled with endless regret for my rough actions last night, deep remorse for Mom, and an inexpressible and unspeakable grievance. I couldn't hold back any longer and buried my face in my mother's lap, sobbing uncontrollably.

Not long after, my mother and I had a long talk. It stemmed from my lingering guilt towards her. So, while Xiaoyu wasn't home, I knelt before her, half-jokingly and eight-tenths seriously, and kowtowed, saying, "Mom, not only did I fail to protect you from being bullied, but I also bullied you. I'm so sorry."

My mother chuckled, "You think you can get away with just one kowtow after raping the Empress Dowager? Kneel three more times!"

I slammed my fist heavily against the floor, as if hoping the pain in my forehead would atone for my grave mistake. I had just

bumped my head when Mom quickly pulled me up, saying, "The Empress Dowager didn't tell you to bump your head with so much force. If you get a concussion, who will be emperor?" Looking at Mom's face, I stammered, "Mom, I...I really regret it."

Mom's eyes reddened, and she pulled me into her arms, whispering, "Lei, I know you regret it. You're a sentimental child. What you did that night was because you cared about me and didn't want to be with other women. I've thought it through. Rushing into finding a wife might not last, and if you divorce, it'll be counterproductive. How about this, let's continue like before. I promise I won't pressure you anymore, but you promise not to drag this out indefinitely. If a suitable girl comes along, don't let the opportunity slip by. Okay?"

I nodded. Mom touched my forehead, asking if it hurt. I shook my head. She stared at me blankly for a while, then murmured,

"Twenty-seven or twenty-eight, still not grown up... This is all in the past, don't bring it up again. But remember,

no matter how unhappy you are, you can't be rude to people." For some reason, this incident made me readjust my relationship with my mother. For seven or eight years, in my heart, my mother was both a mother and a lover. Now, she has become a full-time mother again. I think she has also noticed this change. This hasn't affected the quality or quantity of our sex life. On the contrary, we've become more tender and considerate during sex, bringing a deeper and broader satisfaction to the whole process than just sex.

We invented an intimate position: facing each other, one on top and one on the bottom, penis inside, the person lying on the bottom massages the person on top from the top of the head along the acupoints on both sides of the spine all the way to the tailbone, while the person on top slowly moves up and down, engaging in slow-motion intercourse, which also increases the friction between the two of them. My mother jokingly called this posture "multidimensional microcosmic orbit massage," saying that it could simultaneously stimulate many acupoints in the microcosmic orbit of Qigong.

"But I get a better deal," my mother said with a smile, "because your big thing also helps me open up the meridians inside."

We often talked about the day's events, recalled past anecdotes, teased each other's desires, and expressed our affection during the multidimensional microcosmic orbit massage.
What is love (VII) A dream

in the blink of an eye A year has passed. One day at the end of June, I returned to my office after a meeting and found that my mother had left me her phone number, saying that she planned to invite one of her students to dinner and asked me to buy some vegetables after work. I went home, but my mother was not yet back. I was washing vegetables when I heard my mother's laughter coming from outside. Xiaoyu rushed in and excitedly said, "We have a guest!"

I turned around, politely greeted the guest, and couldn't help but be stunned for a moment. The guest was a young white woman, very beautiful and graceful. Such people are not uncommon among my mother's students, but there was something about this person's features that I couldn't quite place—familiar yet unfamiliar. What surprised me even more was that as she shook my hand, she said in fluent Mandarin with a slight southern accent, "My name is Wu Yuqian, and my French name is Monique. We work for the same company."

It turned out that Wu Yuqian's grandfather was a young and successful Vietnamese-Chinese businessman who married the daughter of his French business partner. After the August Revolution in Vietnam in 1945, he moved his family to France. Wu Yuqian is one-quarter Chinese, so traces of Asian heritage can still be faintly seen in her eyes and brows. Her grandfather insisted that all the children in the family attend Chinese schools and speak Mandarin at home. She completed her undergraduate studies in France and then pursued a doctoral degree at a prestigious university on the West Coast of the United States, graduating this year. Perhaps influenced by her family, she had loved Oriental dance since childhood, and thus became my mother's student shortly after arriving.

The atmosphere at dinner was pleasant. The teacher and student laughed frequently, their voices ringing out like silver bells. It was clear that the two got along very well. It was quite late when the guests left. Mom returned to the living room, gave me a mischievous look, and asked with a smile, "What did you think of that girl?"

I was momentarily embarrassed and didn't know how to answer.

Mom still smiled and said, "Alright, I won't make things difficult for you. But remember your promise: don't miss the opportunity when you find a suitable girl. Don't forget, just because you like her doesn't mean she likes you! You can't just wait around waiting."

Mom walked to the stairs, then turned back to me and said, "The Empress Dowager is tired tonight and wants to sleep alone. Is that alright, Your Majesty?"

I understood Mom's intention. In relationships, first impressions are often very important. If I was indeed interested in Wu Yuqian, Mom didn't want this initial feeling to be diminished by her presence. I nodded and silently walked back to my bedroom.

Yuqian became a frequent visitor to our home. At first, thinking about Mom's intentions, I often felt uncomfortable. But gradually, I had to admit that I really liked her. She and my mother had many similarities: very intelligent but not arrogant, humorous but not shallow, and her laughter was very infectious. Intuitively, I knew she also liked me.

Gradually, when Yuqian visited, she spent more time with me than talking to my mother, and our meetings gradually moved beyond my home.

In the first few months after I met Yuqian, my mother and I continued to have sex as usual. My mother would only occasionally jokingly ask why I was still interested in this old woman after seeing Yuqian. Once, my mother was on top while I was on the bottom, giving her a small circulation massage. My mother suddenly stopped moving, rested her head on my shoulder, and said softly,

"Lei, your relationship with Yuqian either moves forward or backward, but you can't keep playing both sides like this forever. I said I wouldn't pressure you. As long as you're not engaged, I'm happy for you to be intimate with me whenever you want.

But I hope you can make a mature judgment in handling this matter, so that you can be true to yourself and to your future wife."

I lay silently for two or three minutes, then said, "Mom, I also hope to be true to you."

My mother smiled silently and said, "I know. If you can find a good girl, settle down, have children, that will be enough for me. Lei, Yuqian likes you, and you like her too... Okay, I won't say anymore."

That day, we made love in silence, cleaned up the semen we had ejaculated without a word, and then lay in silence in the dark for a long time before falling asleep. After that, my mother and I made love twice more, then tacitly agreed to sleep separately.

After that, my interactions with Yuqian transitioned from chatting to flirting, and then to kissing. During this transition, Yuqian was more proactive than me because subconsciously, I still felt that dating Yuqian was unfair to my mother. But at the same time, I knew that I had truly fallen in love with Yuqian.

Christmas was a holiday, and Yuqian left for France to reunite with her family on the Friday morning before the holiday. I drove her to the airport. Because it was still early, she asked me to park in a secluded corner of the parking lot, and then hugged me and kissed me passionately in the car. My desire arose, and without thinking, I grabbed her breasts through her sweater and began to knead them. Yuqian's moans grew louder and louder.

Suddenly, she reached down and unbuckled her belt, speaking haltingly in English and French: "Lei, imsohorny.

touchezmachatte… (Lei, I'm so horny. Touch me…)"

I slipped my hand inside her panties, gliding it over her smooth abdomen and pubic hair, gently rubbing her swollen, hard clitoris with my fingertips. Her body trembled, and she quickly climaxed. Once her breathing returned to normal, I smiled and kissed her, saying, "You're pretty horny, you came so quickly."

She made a face, looked at the bulge in my pants, and asked if I wanted it too. My "yes" almost slipped out, but inexplicably I raised my hand to check my watch and said, "We're taking off in a little over forty minutes. You still have to go through customs. Time to go."

Yuqian glanced reluctantly at my penis, then whispered in my ear, "When I get back from France, I want you to give me a gift."

"Anything you want," I said.

Yuqian placed her hand on my penis and said, "I want you to put this where it's supposed to be."

My heart skipped a beat, and I nodded earnestly.

On the way back to the office, I kept asking myself, "I want to give Yuqian what she wants, but can I give it to her with a clear conscience?"

Back in the office, I heard a phone call from my mother, telling me not to come home too late that afternoon, preferably around five o'clock. She didn't give a reason, and I didn't think about it much. When I got home in the afternoon, I smelled the aroma of stir-fried dishes, but neither my mother nor Xiaoyu were there. I could only hear the exhaust fan in the kitchen and the sound of water from the bathroom upstairs. I changed into my everyday clothes and was sitting on the sofa reading the day's newspaper when I heard my mother come downstairs. I looked up and immediately froze.

My mother was wearing a black cheongsam, her hair piled high on her head, and she wore light makeup, earrings that matched the cheongsam, and mid-heeled shoes. It felt like watching a modern-day fairy descend from heaven to earth.

Seeing my stunned expression, my mother smiled and said, "Xiaoyu is sleeping over at a classmate's house. I'll pick her up tomorrow at noon. It'll be just the two of us during this time."

I understood what my mother meant, and my penis hardened to its limit in a fraction of a second. Mom glanced at my pants, deliberately pursed her lips, and said,

"How pathetic! Your anxiety won't help; we won't need that thing for an hour."

She went into the kitchen and said to me, "You're probably hungry. Eat something to stave off hunger."

My eyes never left Mom. I swallowed and said, "I'm not hungry."

"I'm letting you eat so you'll have the energy to dance with me," Mom said.

I could tell Mom had everything arranged, so I grabbed two braised chicken wings and started gnawing.

After I finished eating, Mom smiled and ordered, "Go wash your hands and rinse your mouth, then change into something more stylish."

When I came downstairs, dance music was already playing in the living room. Mom stood in the center of the room, smiling at me and nodding with satisfaction. I walked to her side, made an inviting gesture, and casually pulled her into my arms. Smelling the faint scent of perfume emanating from behind my mother's ears, I thought, "Clearly, Mom takes this night very seriously..."

Suddenly, I realized this was the last time I'd be with my mother! My body stiffened, and a dark cloud settled over me.

My mother noticed my change. She took a deep breath, rested her head on my shoulder, and said, "Lei, I was chatting with Yuqian the other day, and she said you're very much a gentleman when you're together. I think she meant it clearly, right?"

Before I could answer, my mother continued, "Lei, Valentine's Day is in a month and a half. We've been together for almost nine years. These nine years have been very happy for me, happier than many women in the world. Let's celebrate to our hearts' content today."

I wanted to cry, but I didn't want my mother to know, so I took several deep breaths to stop the tears from flowing. My mother looked up, cupped my face in her hands, and said,

"Many men and women in the world are deeply in love when they first get together, but later they argue endlessly. You and I have been together for nine years and get along so well. Isn't that something to celebrate? Besides, there's a smart and beautiful girl who likes you; that's double the joy, even more worthy of celebration."

My mind was a jumbled mess. Logically, I knew this day would come sooner or later, and I had imagined how I could handle it without hurting my mother. But at that moment, the only thing I could think of was to postpone this day: "Yuqian won't be back for more than a week, we still have plenty of time."

My mother hesitated for a few seconds, then looked up at me and said, "Lei, even the longest banquet has to end. Compared to nine years, why fuss over a few days? Xiaoyu isn't here, so we can be carefree together. We might not have this opportunity again next week. Don't you want our last time to be somewhat memorable?"

A thought struck me; I felt I should indeed enjoy this opportunity to the fullest, for my mother and for myself. I nodded, put my arm around my mother's waist again, and started dancing to the rhythm of the music.

I can't remember how long we danced, but my mother and I went into the dining room. On the table were dishes that both my mother and I liked. My mother drew the curtains and lit candles. My mood improved, and we ate dinner chatting and laughing. I noticed she didn't eat much. She smiled mysteriously and said, "There's more entertainment later, I can't eat too much."

After dinner, Mom asked me to clean the table and then wait for her in the living room.

"Oh, lower the window in the living room." She smiled mysteriously again and went upstairs.

A few minutes later, Mom said from upstairs, "Lei, close your eyes!"

I closed my eyes and listened as Mom came downstairs and stood before me, saying, "Okay, open your eyes."

I opened my eyes and saw Mom standing barefoot in the center of the living room, draped in a red silk shawl. She gently shook off the shawl, revealing that she was only wearing a bra that barely covered half her breasts and tiny underwear.

"The next performance is a folk dance," she said, her limbs beginning to move slowly and softly. After a few movements, I remembered—it was a courtship dance, one Mom had danced on Valentine's Day nine years ago.

I recognized the underwear as the gift I'd given her. Thinking about its design, my penis involuntarily hardened again. Compared to last time, Mom danced more wildly this time. Her legs opened and closed without restraint with the dance moves, and each time they parted, her hairy vulva peeked out from the tear in her underwear. Several times, I heard the "splat" sound of her overflowing vaginal opening as it suddenly opened. The dance ended, and Mom stood panting in front of me. I reached out and hugged her buttocks, pressing my face against her heaving belly.

Mom stood motionless for a moment, then suddenly lifted one foot and placed it on the sofa armrest, thrusting her buttocks forward, exposing her vulva to me, and said in a hoarse voice, "I didn't wash when I showered, can you smell it?"

I took a deep breath, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the familiar, fishy smell. I nudged her breasts twice with the tip of my nose and said with a smile, "Perfectly balanced, just right."

Mom withdrew her raised leg, pulled me into the dining room, and said, "Since the ingredients have passed inspection, the next dish is your favorite: Morning Clam with Dew." As she spoke, she magically produced a thick quilt and spread it on the table, then turned and lay down on the table, bringing her legs to her chest.

I sat facing her at the table, looking at her full thighs and the vulva nestled between them, and couldn't help but recall the intercourse that made Mom ejaculate for the first time, recalling all the lovemaking before and after. Under the light, a tiny silver glint flashed in Mom's vulva. I looked closer and noticed a single white hair among the thick black pubic hair.

Mom was really getting old! A thought flashed through my mind: perhaps there was another reason why Mom wanted me to get married early—she didn't want me to see her body grow old…

Lost in thought, Mom reached out and patted my head, saying, "Hey, why are you just looking and not eating? Is the clam too old to chew?"

A pang of sadness shot through me, and I buried my head in her warm, moist vulva.

After bringing Mom to orgasm, I stood up, took off my clothes, and, holding my penis, aimed it at her wet vagina. The inside was smooth, and the head of my penis quickly reached her cervix. I stopped there, stroking my mother's thigh, and said with a smile, "Remember? The first time we were together, you said you were all the way in as soon as I put it in here." I pushed my penis in another inch and continued, "When I put it in here, your whole body tensed up, and you said it was like a difficult Shu Road inside you."

A blush spread across my mother's face, then she glanced at me mischievously and said, "Hmph, the mountain path back then has now become a highway!" With that, she thrust forward, giggling as she swallowed my penis whole into her warm, wet vagina.

I was amused by her humor. That night, we made love first at the dining table, then moved to my bedroom. Our bodies were never apart for a second; we couldn't tell when we were making love and when we were resting. It seemed like the whole world consisted only of the two of us. We expressed the bond between mother and son with our eyes and bodies, and we also conveyed the passion between lovers with our eyes and bodies. The room was filled with the smell of genitals from a man and woman in heat, and my mother's unrestrained moans, like a cat's meow. We didn't fall asleep until we were completely exhausted.

I woke up around 10 a.m. My mother was already awake. She lay on her side facing me, her eyes fixed on me. Thinking of our impending separation, I didn't know what to say and just stared at her blankly.

Suddenly, my mother chuckled, gave me a mischievous look, and said, "Xiao Lei, what you've done these past nine years can be summed up in a three-word idiom. Can you guess?"

I shook my head. My mother brought her mouth close to my ear and said, word by word, "--you--Mom!" Then she giggled and hugged me tightly.

My lust rekindled, and my hands roamed freely over my mother's body. I rolled over and pinned her to the bed, kissing her as I asked, "We still have time, can we do it again?"

My mother nodded with her eyes closed.

I used my knees to spread her legs and whispered in her ear, "Mom, help me put my cock inside."

My mother reached out and guided the head of my cock to her vaginal opening, lowering her body slightly, and half of my cock slid into her body. I began to slowly thrust in and out, maximizing the distance of each unidirectional movement. My mother kept her eyes closed, her legs draped over my buttocks, her arms tightly wrapped around me. She gently bit my shoulder a few times, murmuring:

"You're so wicked... Of all the women in the world... you had to fall for your mother..."

Her body swayed up and down with my movements, biting me and saying:

"You used sweet words to seduce my heart... You teased me with adult movies... You taught me to swear... You bought me open-crotch underwear... You licked me... You liked my scent... You did it to me day and night... I always wet the bed... You got me pregnant... You gave birth to your child... You sodomized me... You raped me... You're bad... You're bad... You... Hmm... Hmm..."

Groans gradually replaced her murmurings, and her body began to actively respond to my thrusts. A dozen minutes later, she screamed and ejaculated streams of hot semen.

I had thought I was exhausted after last night, but seeing my mother's expression and hearing her moans, my semen shot deep into her vagina with a slightly aching, itchy sensation.

After some time, my mother said softly, "Lei, let's take a shower together. We should pick up Xiaoyu afterward."

I stood under the showerhead, letting my mother carefully wash me from head to toe. Finally, she cupped my penis in one hand and pulled back the foreskin with the other, cleaning the groove behind the glans thoroughly.

"Wash me too," she said.

My hands slowly slid over her body, tracing every inch of her skin. When it was her turn to wash, she lifted one leg and placed it on the edge of the tub, saying, "Help me wash inside."

I inserted my fingers into her vagina, scraping away the mixture of our fluids. I heard Mom laugh and say, "Your fingers are too short, they can't reach deep inside, use this!" She said, while stroking my already erect penis.

I rinsed my penis under the water jet, one hand around Mom's buttocks, the other guiding my penis to her vaginal opening, pulling it out, rinsing off the remaining fluid, and then inserting it again. After repeating this a dozen times, her vagina was no longer slippery, and I felt a resistance when inserting my penis.

Mom kissed me on the cheek and said, "Okay, thank you." Then she stepped out of the tub.

I held my engorged penis, still feeling aroused. Mom walked to the bathroom door, turned around and saw me, made a face and said, "Save it for Yuqian. That girl's practically drooling over it!"

I stood blankly under the showerhead, wondering if what had just happened had any symbolic meaning: over the years, my penis had "dirtyed" Mom's vagina; now that our sexual relationship was over, it was my penis that cleaned her vagina. Perhaps this was what they called a "cleanbreak"?

I got dressed and went downstairs. Mom had already put the dishes from the night before into the dishwasher and was about to go out to pick up Xiaoyu. Seeing me, she said calmly, "You can eat lunch by yourself. I'm taking your sister to get pizza, then I'll go shopping and won't be back until late."

Perhaps it was my imagination, but she emphasized "your sister" heavily. I nodded, unsure what to say. She walked to the door, opened it, and suddenly stopped just before stepping out. She turned back to look at me, her lips moved, but she said nothing, then turned and walked away. In the sunlight streaming in, I saw tears in her eyes.

The second day of the New Year, I picked Yuqian up from the airport and took her to her place. That night, I didn't go home. The next morning, I drove Yuqian to the company. While waiting at a red light, she suddenly leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, laughing, "Seeing how gentlemanly you always are, I thought I'd be your teacher in bed!

Turns out I'm only fit to be your student!"

My heart skipped a beat, and naturally, I thought of my mother; my face involuntarily flushed. Yuqian giggled and said, "Oh, still embarrassed! You're not like this in bed!"

Seeing my silence, she kissed me on the cheek again and said, "Lei, neither of us is a virgin. As long as we love each other, nothing else matters, don't you think?"

I nodded, filled with gratitude for Yuqian's understanding, and resolved to love her wholeheartedly from now on. Four months later, we got engaged and decided to get married at the end of the year.

My mother bought a house nearby before our wedding and moved out with Xiaoyu. Looking back, I knew my mother would eventually live separately from me. But the specific reason was that I had acted impulsively and done something foolish.

One weekend in early August, Yuqian was away on a business trip, and I was at home working on a research project on a networked computer. The problem was thorny, and I was somewhat distraught. I glanced at the calendar absentmindedly, and suddenly a jolt went through me: August 10th! Ten years ago, on August 10th, also a weekend, my mother called from China, agreeing to come to the US to see me again. The joys and sorrows of the past ten years seemed to flash vividly before my eyes, yet also seemed impossible to unravel even in a thousand years.

Lost in thought, I was struck by a sudden realization when my mother came into the study and asked if I wanted something to drink. Seeing my expression, she asked with concern if I wasn't feeling well. Looking at her, recalling the events of the past ten years, I said softly, "Mom, today is August 10th." My mother paused, clearly unaware of the significance of this day.

Suddenly, only my mother and I remained in the world; everything else vanished without a trace. "Mom, don't you remember? Ten years ago today, you called me from China, saying you wanted to come back to see me. Don't you remember? I haven't forgotten!" I said, standing up and pulling my mother to my chest, kissing her abruptly.

At first, Mom tried to push me away, "Lei, don't, don't do this, sit down and talk slowly..." But she soon stopped struggling and leaned softly against me.

I kissed her, my hands naturally resting on her breasts, kneading her already hardened nipples through her thin shirt and bra. Mom's breathing grew heavier. One hand slid down, expertly slipping into her panties, gliding over her lower abdomen and pubic hair, my fingertips touching her clitoris. Mom's body trembled, her legs parting slightly. I rubbed her clitoris for a while, then overlapped my index, middle, and ring fingers, inserting them into her overflowing vagina, then covered her with my palm, rubbing her clitoris with the heel of my hand. Mom breathed heavily, her lower body beginning to sway back and forth, causing my fingers to thrust in and out like a penis, while she reached out and grasped my penis through her pants. I forgot about Yuqian, my mind focused on what was about to happen.

Suddenly, Mom removed her hand from my pants and pressed it heavily against my hand that was brazenly scratching and kneading, stopping me. She said to herself,

"When Xiaoyu grows up, gets a boyfriend, and gets engaged, if her fiancé does this kind of thing behind her back, would you be willing? Would I be willing? Put yourself in her shoes..."

She slowly but firmly pulled her hand away from mine and walked out of the study.

The next day, while Xiaoyu was out, she calmly said to me, "After you and Yuqian get married, you'll need your own home. It's inconvenient for everyone, Xiaoyu and I have been living with you for so long. I'm planning to buy a house nearby so the whole family can see each other more often—it's a win-win situation."

I opened my mouth to speak, but she continued without stopping, "You're getting married soon, and you'll have children later. You should focus on your family. I have savings from all these years and income from teaching; buying a house is easy, it won't cost you any money."

I looked at her silently, knowing what she said made sense, but I still felt a painful emptiness in my heart. My mother was silent for a while, then sighed softly, reached out and touched my face, and whispered,

"Lei, take advantage of this wonderful time and focus on living a good life with Yuqian, okay?"

My wedding with Yuqian took place as scheduled. Now she is six months pregnant. Every week or two, we would have meals or go on outings with my mother, Xiaoyu. I truly love Yuqian and sincerely hope to spend my life with her. I know this is also my mother's wish. But I still often think about the days I spent with my mother.

Xiaoyu is growing more and more like my mother. Hearing her say in a clear voice, "Brother like this, brother like that," I initially felt an indescribable melancholy and loss, and later I gradually began to doubt: "Is my memory reliable? Is Xiaoyu really my daughter?"

Whenever this happens, I always look at my mother, hoping to get some kind of confirmation from her. But in my mother's eyes, I can only see a mother's love for her children. A few times, my eyes met my mother's, and I seemed to catch a glimpse of something other than maternal love, but that glimpse was fleeting, leaving me only with more doubts. I thought of Kelly, and after some hesitation, I dialed her phone number in the office.

Kelly listened quietly to my story, paused for a moment, and then said, “I don’t think you should waste your energy on this. First of all, you have a wife, and soon you’ll have children. You have an obligation and responsibility to think about their present and future. Dwelling too much on past experiences won’t do you any good; it will only affect your family in the end. I don’t think you’re the kind of selfish man. As for your relationship with your mother, I can attest that your love for her wasn’t limited to a son’s love for his mother, and I believe your memory is generally reliable. If you want to understand yourself, knowing this fact is enough. Why insist on relentlessly verifying whether certain specific events actually happened?”

I was speechless. She paused for a few seconds, then continued, “People tend to idealize events in their memories, especially those involving the emotions of the person involved. The more intelligent a person is, the more likely they are to idealize their memories, because people with high IQs usually have rich associative abilities and higher creativity in their imagination. For this reason, getting overly concerned with the details of past events is not only not beneficial to other family members, but also detrimental to your own mental health.”

I was completely convinced by Kelly's words and thanked her. Then she said, “Lei, do you remember? Years ago, you came to me for help because of your incestuous thoughts. I suggested you talk about them, because it's better to speak out than to keep them bottled up. Now, if you're troubled by your experiences over the past ten years, why not write down your memories? On one hand, it can help you release your psychological burden; on the other hand, in the process of writing, you'll truly see that each memory is an idealization and re-creation of past events. You know without me saying that such a manuscript should be carefully preserved. But under no circumstances should you use real names of people or places.”

I thanked Kelly again, invited her to visit my home sometime, and then hung up the phone.

And so, this story began.

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