[05-31] [The son who can't find a wife]

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

This mother, over fifty years old, with her wrinkled face, gray hair, and slightly hunched back, spoke volumes about her hardships and struggles in raising her children. She loved her children, especially her only son, who was born during the most difficult times. She poured her heart and soul into raising him to adulthood!
Now, her son is nearly thirty, and a deep sorrow is growing in both their hearts: he still can't find a partner. As he gets older, he's lost patience, respect, and filial piety, leading to resentment.
What has the mother done wrong? Her only fault is her appearance. An ugly mother gave birth to an ugly son, and the son blames his bachelorhood on his mother.
"It's all your fault! Why did you give birth to me if I'm so ugly!"
The mother is speechless, only able to weep silently.
Every time her son broke up with a girl, his resentment towards his mother deepened. At first, he ignored her, then started cursing and even physically assaulting her. She endured it all because she was his mother; she had given birth to an ugly son, and she felt guilty towards him and her son.
During the summer harvest season, her son sulked at home. Seeing the weather was about to change, the mother cautiously said to him, "Son, it's going to rain. Go help your father, okay?"
"No!" Not only did he refuse, but he also muttered vulgarities at her. Seeing this, she endured it again; what could she do?
One time, her son went to meet another girl. The mother stayed home anxiously, unsure of what would happen.
When her son returned, she quietly asked him what was wrong.
Her son roared angrily, "It's all your fault! You ugly thing, you've made it impossible for me to find a wife! I'll make you my wife!" With that, the son, like a madman, pulled his mother into his arms, picked her up, and threw her onto the bed.
The mother lost her balance and fell onto the bed. Her son, his mouth watering, pounced on her, tearing open her clothes with both hands. He grabbed one of her breasts, buried his face in her mouth, and sucked on the other nipple
with ravenous ecstasy. She was now flushed with embarrassment and anxiety. Suddenly, she realized she had wronged her son. She knew how painful it was for a man without a woman. Tears streaming down her face, she thought, "So what if it's for a woman? Anyway, I've wronged my son. I might as well let him be a man with me." She felt ashamed. What would her husband think if he found out? Did he know how pitiful her son was? Almost thirty and still didn't know what a woman was. It was so unfair for him to be a man. Since her son didn't mind her age, she decided to give him this one chance.
She struggled half-heartedly, gradually lying down softly and motionless. She had lost all instinct to resist, both mentally and physically. When her son fumbled to unbutton her first trouser button, she pushed his hand, trying to struggle, but her hand fell limply to her side. Her son's rapidly withdrawn hand went back to the button, unbuttoning one, then two. He turned to the side, spread his hands on his waistband, and eagerly and roughly reached down. She didn't react. She was determined to use her own body to comfort her son's pain. She was determined to use her motherly body to relieve her son's desire for a wife and to bear the pain she had caused him.
The warm, soft flesh between his mother's legs was now in his hands. He greedily caressed and explored it, inserting a finger into her vagina and stirring it around for a while before withdrawing his hand and saying, "Mom, give me a chance? Let me see what a woman's body looks like, is it really that wonderful?" As he spoke, he lifted her up and pulled down her pants. He completely read his mother, read the woman; he was intoxicated. When he saw his mother's cheeks flushed, her eyes slightly closed, her breath coming in short gasps, and her body twisting in a way that was both shy and sorrowful... On one side, he vaguely saw his mother's unsightly profile, a tear threatening to fall from her eyelashes. A surge of love and pity welled up within him, but he was a man. A man's body and soul both crave a home. He had wandered for too long; he hadn't forgotten the inherent desires within him. He could no longer restrain himself. Facing his mother's voluptuous, naked body, his blood surged wildly. He let out a soft moan and began to frantically caress his mother. He trembled with excitement, feeling that this was far from enough to vent his current lust.
His mother limply allowed him to manipulate her, fully opening herself up. Her large legs twisted incessantly, as if foreshadowing something for her son. He panted heavily, all the resentment in his heart dissolved by his mother's soft moans. A desperate, frantic desire for greater pleasure surged within him. His hands frantically stroked between his mother's legs. "Mommy...love me, Mommy love me...I..." His excited voice was choked by something, leaving only a struggle.
Her heart pounded, making her tremble slightly. Her mouth was half-open, helpless, shy, and her eyes held a captivating allure. She felt thirsty, a thirst she had never felt so intensely for a man. "I'm old, I don't care about anything. Take it if you want, just don't let your father know..." she murmured dreamily, wanting her son to destroy her.
The son panted heavily, and the mother moaned softly. He grew impatient, and she guided him. Suddenly, his body convulsed, a burning heat enveloping and engulfing his flesh. He pressed himself tightly against his mother, clumsily moving his hips, gradually becoming frenzied, forgetting their blood ties and ethics. They reverted to being simply a man and a woman.
The bed swayed gently, the rising and falling pressure and rapid friction sending shivers through her body like an electric current. With her son's powerful thrusts, she trembled, overwhelmed by an unprecedented pleasure, an almost painful joy that made her weak. Then, she couldn't help but moan, "Faster, faster!"
Her son bounced on top of his mother, wave after wave crashing over her. He felt as if he were on a pile of cotton, on a cloud, and yet nothing at all. Nothing could be more wonderful. He made fierce noises, growing more and more rapid. His mother's moans became increasingly unbearable for him, and he longed to return his entire body to hers.
Waves of heat, spasms, the flames of desire reaching their peak. A dizzying sensation washed over her, and she gasped for breath, eagerly awaiting the coming storm. Finally, at the most ecstatic moment, she let out a suffocating scream: "My son!..."
The son fell heavily onto her body, taking a long time to recover from his daze. He looked at his mother with a mixture of guilt and sadness, lost in thought. "Almost thirty years," he said miserably, "I finally know I'm still a man."
The mother felt a pang of guilt, but then she thought, if this hadn't happened, her son might never have known he was a man. She was using her body and flesh to make her son a true man, and a sense of solace arose within her. She thought that wealth and status were not for everyone, but the happiness and joy that people create themselves are something everyone deserves.
Suddenly, the son let out a mournful cry, his hands lingering on his mother's breasts. He said, "Mom, I'm sorry. Even if I die now, my life will have been worthwhile," his voice filled with intense sorrow.
The mother understood her son's pain and nestled into his arms. The son sighed sadly, and the mother felt a pang of heartache. She pitied her son and placed her plump, fleshy hand on his lower abdomen. His abdomen contracted, despite her frantic movements. The son began to caress his mother again, kneading her until she was limp and weak. "Touch me! Touch me..." the mother murmured, wrapping her plump thighs around her son's body. The son moaned with bliss, giving the mother boundless satisfaction. It was the mother who gave her son pleasure, who gave him the feeling of being a man.
The mother was drenched in sweat, and so was the son. They seemed to float on water, swaying and swaying, shattering all ethics and the mother-son relationship, using it as a prelude to sexual release. From then on, the son's dreams would be filled with the mother's scent, and from then on, his dreams would be accompanied by the mother's body.
Finally, the son stopped his vigorous advances, grabbed his clothes, and wiped his mother all over. The mother's scent made him dizzy and intoxicated.
The son, filled with boundless satisfaction and longing, kissed his mother's snow-white, soft breasts, the bright red nipples tempting him. He felt that sucking on those nipples would quench his lifelong thirst. He bent down and sucked on them, tasting the sweetness he had imagined, nourishing his life. He buried his face in them, in a frenzy and greed.
Since that unexpected loss of her virginity to her son, the mother had engaged in incestuous relationships with him more than ten times on and off. Whenever she recalled the exhilarating moments of lovemaking with her son, she felt a surge of pleasure.
As the saying goes, the more forbidden the fruit, the sweeter it is; especially since her son, not yet thirty and in the prime of his life, possessed the impatience and roughness of a virgin, and his almost life-or-death passion made her increasingly eager to savor that pleasure. She had long since lost all guilt; even though it was a shameful affair, she accepted it. She was willing to give herself to her son. Whenever they needed each other, they were so perfectly integrated that she didn't care about anyone else. In her imagination, giving her son the greatest satisfaction with her aging body was sacred.
The father noticed the unprecedented harmony in the family lately, his face beaming with smiles. He saw his son, unlike his usual self, chatting and laughing, even joking with his parents, and his wife seemed to be growing younger. One morning at breakfast, the son asked his mother with a grin, "Mom, you eat so much, what's your belly made of? It's like a bottomless jar!" The mother chuckled, "Nonsense! My belly is a bottomless jar? Come here and feel it, where's the bottom?" The son laughed too, "No need to feel it, everyone knows what your belly is like!" At that moment, the father, standing nearby, also covered his mouth and laughed. This sudden change stirred a vague, unsettling feeling in his honest and kind heart.
Two months later, he discovered that his wife had become a shared wife for him and his son.
That night, the son got drunk outside and slept in the west room when he got home. He woke up in the middle of the night with a strange thought: he wanted to be intimate with his mother, who slept in the east room with his father. He let out a few groans in the room. His mother heard them and went to the west room to check on him. His father, hearing the groans, assumed his son was ill, and it was only natural for his mother to check on him. But his wife didn't return, and the son's groans suddenly turned into heavy breathing. He sensed something was wrong and involuntarily went over. He saw his son lying naked in bed, his mother wearing a shirt and covering her lower body with the blanket. Her hand was caressing his naked body. Before he could speak, his wife scolded him sharply, "Old man, the child is sick, what are you doing here?" "Get out! I don't want you to interfere!" the son also commanded sharply. He reluctantly retreated, his mind filled with suspicion.
After that, the son often groaned in pain at night, and the mother would come to his side at the sound. One night, the father caught them in bed together. He went mad and became furious. He wanted to settle scores with these two beasts. He raised the stick in his hand, but the son used his naked body to protect his naked mother. The son was not afraid or scared at all. Driven by his bestiality and madness, he swung his hand and snatched the stick from his father's hand. He knocked his father to the ground and calmly found clothes on the scattered bed and handed them to his mother. The father, who was lying on the ground, struggled and trembled, unable to stand up for a long time.
As a father, he could not tolerate his son's incestuous relationship with his mother. But after all, she was his wife of several decades and his only son. After a period of self-torture, his pride failed and his morality was compromised. From then on, his fatherly authority vanished. He swallowed his anger and thought of Qiqiu, hoping to use his feelings as a husband and father to make his wife and son reflect on their actions. He knelt before his wife and son, his hands on the ground, tears streaming down his face, and begged them to save the family and let him live a few more years.
Seeing their father completely defeated, the mother and son exchanged glances, almost laughing out loud. The son glared at his kneeling father and scolded him like a child, "Get up...you're a disgrace."
From then on, the son and mother were like wild horses, unrestrained. The silence of their husband and father emboldened them to become even more unrestrained and frenzied. Regardless of day or night, whether their husband was home or not, whenever they needed to, the son would wrestle with his mother and do those inhuman things. As a husband and father, how could he tolerate his wife and son doing such beastly things under his nose? But he was too cowardly, too concerned about his reputation. The tears and hatred could only be silently buried in his heart.
One night, just as the elderly couple lay down, the father approached his wife. "Want some? Let me play with you for a while, Mom?" This was the only thing he had said to his wife in days, his tone filled with forgiveness and pleading. His trembling hands slowly stroked her hair and cheeks, then gently turned her body around to find her lips.
In the darkness, the mother buried her face, her back to her husband, trembling with shame. She felt his lips touch hers, gently sliding over them. With the moisture of his saliva, their lips rubbed together. The mother tightly pursed her lips, nervously guarding against the next step, her mind racing, trying to think of an excuse to refuse her husband's desire. They kissed and kissed, but the husband didn't make any further progress. In fact, he already knew that his wife's body and soul had already given themselves to their son. He considered this the greatest satisfaction. With his rapid breathing, it seemed he had reached the peak of excitement. The mother, overwhelmed with guilt, suddenly felt all her strength drain away. She lay there, as if atoning for her sins, letting her husband do as he pleased.
As her husband's breathing quickened, a strange, primal urge surged within him. Perhaps it was the recent pent-up frustration that made him so hot-blooded. He suddenly stripped off all his clothes and pounced on his wife, naked. Despite her attempts to evade him, her desperate attempts to push him away, a gesture that seemed both pleading and repentant
, he was no longer the timid man he once was. Like a ravenous tiger, he ignored his wife's pitiful cries and rolled over, pinning her body beneath him. As her underwear slipped down, a full, smooth body was revealed beneath him. Her high, firm breasts, like two blazing flames, made his muscles tremble. The physical contact sent waves of tingling pleasure through his body like an electric current. The mysterious forbidden zone between his wife's legs, dark and alluring like a fog or a magnet, drew him in deeply. He forgot the source of his infidelity, forgot the cave his son had once sought. He couldn't suppress his inner urges; his thirsty body proved he had forgiven his wife, tacitly agreeing to share his body with his son. Trembling, he extended his body towards his wife's most needed, most desired place. In an instant, the world went dark, and he felt a surge of desire. He wanted to experience it all. He frantically grasped and fondled her breasts with both hands, his body throbbing violently against his wife's, his mouth still panting heavily. He found refuge, found madness, between his wife's legs. With a violent tremor, a surge of heat rushed through his body. He finally collapsed onto his wife, his body feeling as if it had fallen apart. The wonderful enjoyment he had just experienced, entering a paradise, was what he needed most; everything else was no longer a concern.
She felt no excitement whatsoever. If he persisted longer, she might have helplessly experienced pleasure. She writhed as if apologizing, her plaintive moans turning into cooperation with him. She numbly allowed him to manipulate her, letting him vent his desires; he was right.
At this moment, her emotions calmed. She embraced her husband, who was lying on top of her. She knew his pride prevented him from questioning her; after all, decades of relationship wouldn't allow him to easily divorce her, nor could he announce her transgressions to others. He would bear unspeakable bitterness, accepting the deception of their relationship, sharing a woman with his own son. She secretly found it amusing, yet also felt sorry for her husband. This feeling led her to no longer refuse the lingering afterglow of his frenzied caresses.
Her husband moved his wife's body down, placing his hand on her lower abdomen. She let out a soft moan, her legs gradually loosening, followed by another kind of spasm.
The door was gently pushed open. The son, hearing the constant moans and groans coming from his parents' room in the west wing next door, flushed crimson. His mother's round, plump buttocks, her alluring moans and heavy breathing, made his heart race. He rolled on the bed, thinking of his mother's soft, supple body, and couldn't help himself, engaging in self-pleasure. An uncontrollable urge made him curse under his breath. He got up and pushed open his parents' door.
In his hazy state, he stared intently at the white bodies entwined on the bed, then abruptly separated. Shyly, his mother said in a trembling voice, "You...you...how did you get in?"
"It was so cold in my room, I was shivering."
The mother finally understood: her son wanted to sleep in the same bed with his parents and make love to her right there in front of her husband. She felt dizzy and couldn't describe the feeling in her heart. She looked at her husband, but he had already turned his face away and pulled the blanket over himself. She knew her husband wouldn't say anything, so she said, "Then let's sleep here." The son took off his shoes and got into bed, lying down in the empty space next to his mother. His thick legs made the mother feel flustered and extremely humiliated. Her heart was pounding. She felt that her husband was watching her. It was late at night, and the room was silent except for the heavy breathing of her husband and son.
The mother was startled and almost screamed. Her son's hands groped her naked body, eagerly finding the place he desired, caressing its unusual smoothness. He buried his head in his mother's chest. The mother was afraid, ashamed, and excited all at once. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her husband beside her. Her body was tense and trembling. She wanted to cry, but she also wanted to laugh. Her son wrapped his legs around hers and rubbed her breasts with one hand. She let out a soft moan as if afraid, and her body went limp. She felt a strange pleasure, and without realizing it, she lifted herself up. She was overwhelmed with shyness by her son's warm breath. She cried out "Oh dear!" and unconsciously hugged her son tightly, momentarily forgetting her husband beside her. Suddenly, she heard her husband sigh and shift his body slightly. He didn't get angry.
The mother felt extreme guilt. She pitied her husband, listening to his sighs of sorrow and helplessness, and tears welled up in her eyes. She reached out to stroke his back, trying to turn him around, but he stubbornly avoided her. The son released his mother and pushed her, naked, in front of his father. The father leaned down further. Seeing this, the son gestured for his mother to tease his father. The mother leaned forward and began to caress and kiss her husband. She forcefully turned him back, pressed her lips to his stomach, and began to lick it. Her mouth slowly moved down from his stomach, kissing his thighs passionately.
The husband remained silent.
She slid her lips along his groin, and "Ah..." he finally let out a short scream. His lower body suddenly became erect, his manhood standing almost vertically, like a thunderbolt.
At first, the husband kept his eyes closed, feeling the movement of his wife's burning lips, a wave of sorrow washing over him.
His wife was no longer his sole possession; her supple and resilient skin had been enjoyed by his son. He wished he could die immediately, for he could no longer enjoy the warmth of their bodies alone, no longer savor the pleasure that had once intoxicated him and filled his mind with endless delight. Now, he watched helplessly as his son was caught between him and his wife, watching his son commit adultery with his mother. His heart was breaking.
He desperately wanted to intervene, but he lacked the courage.
A fierce internal struggle raged within him. His wife had advised him: "Our ancestors didn't distinguish between mother and son, father and daughter, brother and sister. People back then must have lived happily. They did whatever they wanted without any sense of guilt. We will become ancestors in the future, so don't take it to heart." He thought his wife's words made sense. No matter what, his wife was still his wife, and his son was still his only son. He stubbornly insisted that even though his wife was now possessed by his son, she was still his woman. He didn't want to abandon his woman. Moreover, his wife was his only reason for living in this world; without her, his life would end.
His current situation was merely a prelude; he couldn't stop his mother and son's lustful desires. He was willing to stay by his wife's side because if they were away from him, allowing them to indulge in their debauchery, his mental endurance would break down, and he would surely go mad.
His wife's passionate caresses and sucking caused his semi-erect penis to immediately become erect, standing almost vertically, under the pressure of her moving lips.
His wife gripped his penis tightly, rubbing it greedily. She felt his body convulsing in waves. "Dad, why aren't you saying a word?" she asked with guilt and concern. She noticed that her husband's face remained gloomy, as he desperately suppressed the intense physical reaction.
"Son, why don't you apologize to your father? What are you staring at like that?" she said to her son in a different tone.
Hearing his mother's words, the son's anxious heart clenched. He watched his mother and father's frenzied scene, the moans and gasps pounding in his ears. He stared blankly at his mother sucking his penis, watching her arouse his father's lust. He realized his mother was helping him, forcing his father to accept him, meaning he would share his mother's body with his father.
Hearing his mother's words, the son stopped stroking her from behind. In a trembling voice, he said, "Dad, I have no choice, please forgive me..."
"You son of a bitch, stealing your father's wife, sleeping with your mother, you beast! Kneel down to the side!"
He immediately sensed a turning point in his father's words. He took two steps forward and knelt beside his mother: "I'm sorry, I apologize." He placed his hands on the bed, bowed respectfully, and murmured tremblingly, begging his father for forgiveness.
"Alright, killing is just a matter of a head falling to the ground," the mother said, looking at her son with a seductive gaze, a kind of bestial fire burning fiercely in her veins. "Take off your clothes and hurry up and serve us old folks," she said, her voice heavy with desire and panting.
The son was overjoyed; he knew his father would no longer refuse him. He quickly stripped off his clothes, and his mother's hand was already between his legs. "You damned bastard, you really have such wild thoughts!" The mother grasped her son's penis and teased it lasciviously. "As punishment, you will serve your father," she said, pulling her son's head up and pressing him between his father's legs.
The father was momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected his wife to do this. He was secretly astonished that this woman had hidden such a strong desire for so many years. He knew that she was willing to pay any price to please him; only in this way would he fully accept her, and only then could she enjoy two men without restraint.
The father felt his son's burning mouth tightly gripping his penis, moving in and out. He watched his wife's head buried between his son's legs, making the same movements. One of her hands was pressed tightly against her genitals, and her legs were twisting constantly. He felt his body swelling rapidly. He couldn't resist his son's frenzy and his wife's temptation. "Do you feel good while I'm serving you?" the son asked breathlessly between his movements, whether he was asking his father or his mother.
The wife's eyes sparkled as she occasionally sucked on her son's penis, gazing at the scene of her son and father's oral sex. Her abdomen heaved rapidly, even the soft skin of her belly undulating with it.
The father thought that this scene clearly showed his wife's willingness to submit to her son. She was willing to share her body with her husband and son, she was willing to enjoy the impact of her husband and son together, she was willing to be conquered by the powerful masculinity of her husband and son.
With a spasm in his face and body, the father groaned in agony, releasing his pent-up frustration. He cried out in unbearable pleasure, "You brat, get... get out of here... get out of here..."
The son worked hard, servicing his father like a dog eager to bite. The father could only desperately try to avoid his son's frenzied pecking. He pushed his son away, got up, flipped his wife over, spread her legs, straightened himself, and thrust his erect penis into the bulging crevice between her legs without guidance.
The mother now desperately needed a strong man, a hard, living body. She had become greedy; she desperately needed a real, penetrating sensation, just as people say: women serve men's penises, women are naturally talkative. Her womanly body urgently needed the simultaneous defilement of her husband's and son's penises. This thought ignited an extremely intense lust within her. At this moment, she wanted to be freely and freely raped by her husband and son together.
"Oh, my son!" she suddenly cried out, "My son, I'm dying, oh, my son... give me yours, please... hurry..."i=27>The son had already straddled his mother's face with his hips, showing no mercy. He thrust his penis into his mother's mouth, which was filled with constant moans. The mother could not breathe. Her cries of pleasure turned into choked sobs. She struggled unbearably, feeling suffocated. The torment of being penetrated by the man became very comfortable. Each thrust made her let out a joyful low howl, which was both sad and sorrowful.

"Is it good?" The son's penis was deeply inside his mother's mouth. He felt the movement in her throat and asked her with pleasure.
"Ugh... ugh..." A choked groan followed by a released groan, "Oh... oh..." The mother exhaled the pent-up tension, inhaled air, and struggled to moan with pleasure.
The father, panting heavily, moved rapidly with shallow and deep thrusts for a while, then slowed down. He supported his wife's legs with his shoulders, leaned forward, and grasped her breasts with both hands. He saw his wife's unprecedented pleasure and his breathing became even heavier with excitement. The mental excitement aroused a strong sense of pleasure, and his penis, which should have long since gone limp, was still erect. Whether it was the stimulation of family pleasure or the sudden release of mental repression, his still erect penis was real.
The mother and son shared the same excited expression on the father's face.
Hidden within her naked body was a sexual desire she never knew before. She was filled with a lust like an abyss; she had already been satisfied, but the fire of desire burning within her still raged, refusing to be extinguished. This was the first time she had experienced something like this.
The son pondered that he and his father were conquering the same woman—the same woman who was both his father's wife and his mother. This time, he and his father had reached a tacit understanding; he would henceforth enjoy the same right to his mother as his father. He didn't just want to be the conqueror like his father. He said to his panting father, "Come on, let's switch."
"You lie down," he said, pointing at his mother, his expression eager.
"Okay,"
the mother rolled over and lay down. The son embraced his mother's plump buttocks, his penis penetrating her body through her hips. She felt her vagina being torn open, the hard, living body reaching towards her uterus. The son held his mother's abdomen with one hand, while the other touched her clitoris. In that instant, the mother reached the pinnacle of pleasure.
The husband, now in front, grabbed his wife's hair and thrust his penis in front of her. The lingering moans of pleasure were instantly silenced. The wife sucked his penis tightly into her mouth, holding it close as he thrust in and out, reaching her throat. She felt pleasure, believing it to be a woman's instinct.
The mother, being simultaneously violated by her husband and son, involuntarily let out moans of pleasure, trembling as she felt the double assault of her husband and son, the penetrating thrusts. She moaned intermittently, then collapsed, her vagina and mouth spasming from being filled.
The father and son performed the same actions, the same frenzy, their rapid, heavy breathing escaping their lips in a frenzy. A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder struck, and they collapsed beside her, panting, looking at their wife and mother with a pitying, maternal gaze. She lay there limply, shamelessly displaying herself; her flushed cheeks were covered in wet streaks, and her dark, glossy pubic hair and labia shone with moisture. She awoke, a look of satisfaction on her face. She grasped her husband's and son's penises in her hands, letting them wipe the marks left on her face and legs.
The husband and son embraced the woman from either side; the son's hand moved to his mother's genitals, and he realized his father's hand was already there.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/205383.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=205383&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : [05-31] [The Mother's Body - The Lustful Son]

Next Page : [05-31] I fucked my big, strong son with his thick dick.