Reaching into Mom's skirt

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

I found a well-written short story about incestuous relationships with my mother.

My mother is 37 years old and works in administration at a school. Her face isn't particularly beautiful, but it's definitely not ugly either; she gives off a very comfortable feeling. Because she takes good care of herself, her skin is quite fair, and her breasts are of moderate size—not exactly voluptuous, but barely covering them with one hand. Her most prominent feature is probably her round, perky buttocks. When she wears a business suit, her trousers are stretched taut, and remarkably, unlike many middle-aged women, they don't sag but remain firm and perky like a young woman's.

Initially, I had no incestuous thoughts. Although I have a thing for mature women, I didn't think in that direction. But one day a year ago, my mother came to my classroom. That day, she was wearing a tennis outfit—a light yellow short-sleeved top and a matching short skirt.

After returning to the classroom, my deskmate said to me, "Hey, who's that?" I didn't want others to know that my mother worked at the school, so I said a teacher asked me to help with my application to join the Communist Youth League. He said, "Hey, that butt is really big, almost as big as the English teacher's!" Our English teacher is over forty, but you can still tell she must have been a beauty in her youth. She often wears long skirts, which we all fantasize about because her butt is too big to fit into her pants. We all day long, we'd fantasize about how to get with her. I casually told her to get lost, but then I suddenly started comparing my mom to our English teacher, and with this fantasy, I thought about my mom's big butt, and I instantly got an erection.

After finishing evening self-study and getting home, my mom was taking a shower; my dad was still away on a business trip. I ate my meal absentmindedly, wondering what my mom looked like in the bathroom next door. While I was eating, my mom came out of the shower wearing a bathrobe and lay on the sofa watching TV. The loose bathrobe didn't hide her figure, and I got an erection again. After finishing my meal, I said to my mom, "Mom, let me give you a massage, so you can experience my skills." My mom joked, "Did you do something wrong? Why are you being so attentive?" She then leaned forward on the sofa. I went over and sat down, saying, "You're really wronging me. Serving a beautiful woman is what I should do." My mom and I both laughed. First, I massaged her shoulders and back. After a while, my hands moved down, gently massaging her round, shapely thighs. While she was engrossed in watching TV, I subtly lifted a corner of her towel and discovered she was wearing white underwear. Her round, firm buttocks were visible, and a dark shadow clung to her inner thighs. My heart raced; I almost fainted. I put the towel down, calmed myself, and casually continued massaging her buttocks. Before I could finish, she wriggled her hips and said, "Stop massaging! You're taking advantage of your mother!" I said, "A massage helps shape your buttocks." She sat up and said, "Go to sleep, you're so sharp-tongued."

For the next while, I read some articles about massage techniques and took every opportunity to massage my mother, taking advantage of her. Gradually, she became less averse to me touching her buttocks during massages, though I always did it through a towel or under a blanket, leaving me feeling itchy but helpless. Until one day, I finally got my chance.

It was a Saturday, and my dad was working at the accounting firm and was out of town again. When I went for my morning run, I saw a sign at the entrance of our complex saying there would be a power outage for maintenance that night. I didn't pay much attention at first, but when I got home, an idea came to me. Since our area is known as an "furnace," it gets very hot in early June, so we basically have to keep the air conditioning on. When I got home, I suggested to my mom that we go to the tennis club my classmate owns around 4 pm when it's cooler. My mom agreed. My idea was that while playing tennis, I could look at my mom's figure, get into the mood while I played, and after the game, she would be very tired. After she took a shower, I could give her a massage, and she would fall asleep peacefully. Then I could enjoy my mom properly. Touching her butt would be a small case, and I might even have the chance to caress and taste her vagina and anus. What? You say it's disgusting? I have to say, my mom has a slight case of mysophobia. If she's working, she has to wash twice a day in this kind of weather, and she changes her underwear almost every day. I think she's much cleaner than many girls.

That morning, I sat in front of my computer in my room, daydreaming, occasionally letting out a creepy smile and swallowing sounds. However, the weather turned against me; it suddenly became overcast in the afternoon. It's quite cool here when it rains, but—and I must say, overcast skies before the rain are absolutely awful—sultry, humid, scorching hot, in short, unbearably hot. So, I must say, my afternoon basketball game and my daydreaming vanished. That afternoon and dinner, in the sweltering heat, I had a very depressing time.

After dinner, unsurprisingly, the power went out a while later. I played on my phone for a bit, and my mom said, "Go take a shower; there's no air conditioning, it'll cool you down after a shower." After I finished showering, my mom went in to shower, and I turned on my iPad. The moment it booted up, a wonderful idea occurred. My mom came out wearing a towel after showering, and I said, "Welcome, Miss X, masseuse number one is now at your service." Mom chuckled and said the little rascal was being naughty, then sprawled on the sofa watching a movie on her iPad—a carefully selected and treasured film I used to keep. As an Oscar-worthy sex film, I admit that the first time I watched it, I had my head up for an hour straight. I pounded on her forehead; the sweltering heat had made her sweat. With a mix of nervous excitement and something else, I told her to take off her yukata, it was so hot. Mom hesitated for a moment and said it wasn't that hot.

I… After a while, it was getting dark outside. Since the air was difficult to dissipate in the room, Mom told me to get a fan. I said I'd rather take off my yukata; I'm just wearing shorts, I'm not hot at all.

Mom sat up and took off her yukata. In the dim light from the window and the iPad screen, I saw that she was wearing a pink bra and pink panties. After I had her lie down, I noticed that the panties were a bit small, only covering her buttocks and the area around them, leaving most of her white buttocks exposed. I then understood why Mom hadn't wanted to take off her yukata earlier; it was so bright outside, and the panties were so revealing. If it weren't for the stuffy weather, she probably wouldn't have taken them off.

I slowly kneaded and massaged her legs from her ankles upwards. Her long, shapely legs were so perfect, and I started to really fall for her. When I touched the peak of her buttocks, she trembled slightly, but she didn't say anything. I began to intimately touch her plump buttocks. Touching them through the yukata and touching them with my own hands were completely different sensations. The smooth skin and excellent elasticity made my hands feel incredibly good, while my penis was extremely envious. I gently kneaded Mom's buttocks into various shapes. Then, the movie's plot caught my attention—yes, it was that R-rated scene. A naive young man, a beautiful mature woman, long legs, large breasts, passionate lovemaking, earth-shattering... After this scene, I found my hands covering my mother's buttocks, motionless. An ambiguous atmosphere filled the air. My mother's posture was stiff. I casually remarked, "Mom, your figure is much better than that woman's." I heard my mother take a deep breath and laugh nonchalantly, agreeing. Then I continued massaging my mother, but this time it involved more than just touching. During another emotional climax, I couldn't resist any longer. I openly used my right hand to pinch my mother's shoulder, while my left hand slowly caressed her buttocks, from the left cheek to the right, feeling the elasticity of her buttocks and the allure of the cleft. After touching her two or three times, I got carried away and leaned down to sniff the cleft of my mother's underwear. The scent of her shower gel mixed with a peculiar smell—that primal aroma stimulated me to kiss her buttocks. My mother suddenly turned her head and asked what I was doing. I hesitated for a moment and said I was sleepy and wanted to lie down and take a nap. My mother said to go to the bedroom, but I said it was cooler in the living room. I told her to watch a movie and not to worry about me. My mother seemed to say something but didn't, and went to watch the movie. I lay on my mother's buttocks and carefully inquired about the smell. After a while, my mother got tired of lying down and lay on her side to watch the movie, and I didn't get another chance. However, this experience strengthened my determination to win my mother's heart.

It rained all night that night, and the next day it was much cooler. When I got up, I noticed a subtle shift in the atmosphere between my mother and me after the ambiguous moment the previous night. My mother was wearing capri jeans, and as she greeted me at the door, I jokingly patted her bottom and said I was leaving. Surprisingly, she casually told me to come back early. Sensing this change, after my run, I went to the flower shop near our apartment complex and bought a small bouquet of roses. When I got home, my mother had already prepared dinner and was watching TV in the living room. Seeing me come in, she asked, "What are you doing with your hands behind your back? Go wash your hands." I jumped up, knelt on one knee, placed the roses in front of her, and said, "Darling, I love you." My mother was surprised and said, "You're so generous with money at such a young age. If you spend like this again, I'll reduce your allowance." But I still saw a hint of a smile in her eyes.

From then on, my mom and I started having intimate gestures like lovers, such as patting her bottom, pinching her bottom, rubbing her bottom, or suddenly appearing from behind and hugging her. Although I inevitably got scolded, it didn't matter; taking advantage of her was the key. When riding the bus, if my mom was sleepy, I would smoothly put my arm around her shoulder and let her lean on my shoulder to sleep, and she wouldn't refuse even in her drowsy state. My mom and I also developed a tacit understanding: whenever my dad wasn't around, my mom would let me massage her after taking a shower, but she rarely wore only underwear; more often, she would wear a towel.

Slowly, summer vacation arrived, and the first Wednesday was my mom's birthday. I bought a set of black VS underwear online in advance. Putting aside the bra, the thong made me want to see what my mom would look like wearing it the moment I saw it. At that time, the students had already gone on vacation, but the teachers had to stay at school for an extra week to grade papers, hold meetings, and summarize things. July is also the time when companies prepare their semi-annual reports, and my dad was also very busy, so he just called to wish my mom a happy birthday. Mom seemed a bit distracted this morning and at noon, and she was somewhat unresponsive when I spoke to her. I knew she was waiting for me to wish her a happy birthday, but unfortunately, the surprise was in the evening.

As soon as Mom left for work in the afternoon, I got to work. First, I tidied up the house, rearranging the large items in the living room according to my plan. Then I went out and bought candles, flowers, the ordered cake, ingredients for two dishes I've been making since I was four, and that seemingly harmless, fruit-flavored red wine that easily makes women let their guard down and get drunk. After returning home, I timed everything perfectly, busied myself with preparations, and then, excitedly, locked the door, waiting for Mom's arrival. The sound of

the key turning filled the air. While frantically lighting the candles, I asked, "Who is it?" (If it were Dad, I'd be devastated). Mom said, "It's me. Why can't I open the door?" I said, "Wait a minute, I'm taking a shower." Mom said, "Why did you lock the door while showering?" I said, "I'm afraid someone will come in and spy on me." Mom said, "Who's watching you?" I opened the door and said, "Look!" I arranged 36 red candles into the shape of a heart and placed them by the door. The curtains were drawn. The living room had only a round table and two chairs. Thirty-six bouquets of roses, arranged in oddly shaped "Happy Birthday" signs, lay on the floor. On the table was a birthday cake, a pink box (full of my fantasies about VC underwear…), four dishes, and two bottles of wine. I said, "Mom, Happy Birthday."

The smile on Mom's face, combined with her suit dress, made me want to pull her to the table.

Mom asked what the gift in the box was. I said I'd show it to her after dinner. I poured the wine, pulled out my prepared n toasts, and began my attack on Mom. She clearly didn't see through my intentions. Like the US attacking Iraq, we finished both bottles of wine in no time. By the last glass, we were both a little tipsy. I looked at Mom and said, "I love you forever," then drank it all in one gulp. Mom finished hers too. There weren't many dishes, because there was still cake to be made. After dinner, I opened the cake, cut it, and gave it to my mom. I asked her how it was, if it was delicious. She seemed unaccustomed to this kind of attack, having already drunk over a bottle of red wine—though wine is still wine, after all. Her voice was somewhat seductive as she said, "It's delicious!" I put my left arm around her and smeared cake on her face with my right. She gasped and tried to run away, but I wouldn't let her. So, we started a cake-fighting session. During this, my right hand accidentally brushed against her buttocks through her short skirt. Before I could even feel it, she hit me with cake. A few minutes later, we finished the cake. We sat facing each other, laughing at each other's antics. After a while, I said, "Mom, I want more cake!" She said, "There's none left." I went over and, pretending to be cute, hugged her head, saying, "You still have some on your face." She laughed and said, "Go ahead and eat it!" She didn't expect me to actually bend down and lick the cake off her face. She said, "Go take a shower, I'll clean up here."

I agreed and let go of her to take a shower. After my mom finished showering, she had already cleaned the living room. I held up a box containing lingerie and said, "Mom, this is your gift." She asked, "What?" I told her to go take a shower, and then open it—there would be a surprise! So she took it and went to shower. I pushed the sofa into the living room, moved everything back a bit, and sat on the sofa, fantasizing about Mom walking towards me in black lingerie, swaying like a cat, giving me a seductive look, and then sitting on my lap… Mom came out, but unfortunately, she was still wearing a bathrobe. I asked, "Did you open the gift?" (Note that I didn't say "Mom"; I wanted a sense of equality and authority). She said she had. I asked, "Did you put it on?" Mom looked at me without saying anything. I knew this foreign brand of red wine still had some effect. I said, "Mom, come here, let me give you a massage." Mom did as I said and came over as usual. I grabbed her and pulled off her bathrobe; sure enough, she was wearing the lingerie I had bought. Mom nervously asked, "What are you doing?" I said coquettishly, "I just wanted to see," and then gently pulled her to lie down on the sofa as usual. Mom blushed and complied. Under the dim yellow light of the living room lamp, I finally got to see my mother's body openly, though from behind, though she was wearing underwear… only a black bra strap adorned her fair back. As usual, I began massaging her. The scents of flowers and wine added to the ambiguous atmosphere, making both my mother and I tremble slightly. That temptation, I didn't know where it would lead, how to proceed, how to face it—the temptation itself had become a temptation. Well, whatever, I'd follow my feelings, whatever. I gently rubbed the snow-white skin of my mother's back, gradually moving downwards, slowly reaching her waist. I had never understood the meaning of "a handful," but today I finally understood. Here, my right hand couldn't help but caress, gently tracing my mother's waist. My mind began to wander with tangled fantasies; I imagined how alluring her serpentine waist would be as it swayed. My mother's body stopped trembling, as if anticipating my touch. Finally, I brushed past the black t-shirt. My mother's waist and hips had a captivating curve, her pert bottom the envy of countless self-proclaimed beautiful girls. I gently placed my left hand on my mother's waist, while my right hand slowly caressed her buttocks, from left to right. My mother's two white, pert buttocks were at my mercy. I didn't stop; that beautiful cleft was there, and I wanted to savor it slowly. I continued to caress my mother's feet. Her small toes twitched under my touch, giving me the urge to suckle them. I gently kissed my mother's toes, then slowly kissed upwards along the instep of her right foot, finally reaching my mother's buttocks, which I had longed for. I couldn't resist any longer. I grabbed my mother's hips with both hands and licked her buttocks forcefully. My mother's legs tensed; I knew she was getting nervous. After kissing for a while, I used both hands to try to spread her buttocks apart. I froze, staring at my mother's beautiful, deep cleft. Beneath the thin black band, her beautiful, dark red anus was exposed, her delicate chrysanthemum laid bare before my eyes. At that moment, I felt an urge to cry. After thinking about it for so long, I had finally seen it. I lowered my head, wanting to properly admire my mother's anus.

My face pressed against her buttocks, and I gently breathed on her anus. A soft breath escaped her lips, giving me the final courage. I frantically spread her buttocks apart, kissing her anus and cleft with all my might. The scent of the shower gel completely masked its unpleasant odor. At that moment, I had a vulgar thought of my mother vigorously washing her anus with shower gel. Her tight anus and continuous sighs fueled my madness. I kicked off my slippers, climbed onto the sofa, and, like in an AV, straddled my mother, kissing her cleft with all my might. My mother tried to cover her private parts with her hands, saying it was dirty. I shoved her hands away and indulged myself even more forcefully. Most of the time, I'm an ordinary person who's confused, but in that blissful moment, I suddenly understood and had an epiphany. I clearly understood what my mother's bottom line was and what I should do next. And as it turned out, I was right.

I got up and hugged my mother, turning her over while kissing her lips. She tried to push me away, but I knew it was just a gesture and ignored it. After a while, she parted her lips and began to respond. I kissed her, sucking on her saliva, our tongues intertwining. Her breathing became heavy. I released my hand from her head, kissing her as I carried her to my bedroom. Once inside, I closed the door with my foot; the curtains were already drawn. My mother and I began rolling and kissing on the bed. I kneaded her breasts with my right hand and roamed her back with my left. A muffled sound escaped her throat. I released her lips and began kissing her face, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside. Then I hugged her tightly, feeling the soft warmth of her breasts. In the intense friction, I suddenly felt the urge to ejaculate. I thought to myself, "Damn it." Then I let go of my mother, ceasing all physical contact with her, and began kissing her breasts. I took her nipple into my mouth, slowly swirling and sucking it with my tongue. My mother relaxed, gently pressing my head against her breast. I placed my hand on the base of her thighs, using my fingers to part her legs slightly, and continued deeper, slowly caressing her private parts through a thin layer of her panties with my middle finger. After a while, I slipped my finger inside her panties, gently exploring, and finally found the entrance to her warm, moist vagina. I rubbed it back and forth at the opening, and my mother finally began to moan softly. I got so excited I almost ejaculated again; I thought I couldn't take it anymore. I took off my underwear, let my mother hold my penis, then rolled over and did a 69 position, spreading her legs apart and holding them down with my hands. Then, through her underwear, I started kissing her vulva. The slightly pungent smell aroused me even more. I guided my mother's hand to stroke my penis a couple of times, then released it. Her soft hand obediently began to stroke it. I rolled her underwear to the side and licked her vulva. Her vaginal fluids increased. I stuck my tongue inside her vulva, licking her warm, moist flesh. My mother cried out. I sat up and inserted my right index finger, stirring it around for a while. Then I told my mother to lift her buttocks. She lifted them, and I found her anus, gently squeezing my wet index finger inside. My mother twisted her buttocks, trying to escape. I said, "Don't move," and she let me... I put it in, then used my thumb to stimulate both my mother's anus and vagina. It was the first time I'd seen my mother moaning with her eyes closed and mouth slightly open. The stimulation from her small hands was unbearable. I told her to spit on it, and she leaned down and dripped saliva onto my glans. Stimulated, I said, "Mom, kiss me and I'm about to cum." She licked my glans a few times with her tongue. I held her head so she could stick her tongue out at my penis, while I used one hand to vigorously stimulate her vagina and anus. Then I ejaculated on her face, some even landing on her tongue. The extreme physical and psychological pleasure made my mind go blank for a moment. All I felt was—it was incredibly good!

From the beginning, I knew my mother wouldn't agree to incest, but I thought she would agree to everything except penetration in that situation. If I insisted on penetration, she might slap me, and I couldn't force myself on her. So, this was the best outcome I could achieve. Later, when I asked my mother, she said the same thing. Will Mom ever willingly make love to me one day, letting me put my penis inside her vagina? I don't know, maybe never, maybe today.

Right now, Mom is lying on the sofa in a super seductive short skirt, watching me write this. Okay, let me ask.

"Mom, can we make love today?" I put my hand inside Mom's short skirt.

(To be continued) Let's go back to that night last year.

After the madness, Mom was silent for a while before letting me go back to my room to sleep. Satisfied, I didn't realize the loneliness in Mom's tone and went to the bathroom to wash myself before going back to my room. The next day, after I got up and ate breakfast, I wanted to joke around with Mom again and maybe even take advantage of her, but Mom...? returned to her usual solemnity, which scared me away, but I didn't take it to heart, thinking that Mom wasn't feeling well.

Since I'm a day student and don't have to attend evening self-study, after class in the afternoon, I went home, ate dinner, and lay on the sofa watching TV. After Mom finished tidying up, she went to take a shower. I sat on the sofa, fantasizing that she would shyly walk over, wearing sexy lingerie like yesterday, sticking her bottom out for me to caress. I also remembered our online intimacy and her beautiful body from yesterday, and I got an erection again. The waiting was always long. Einstein said that time seems to pass slowly when sitting with a man, but it always flies when sitting with a beautiful woman—that's relativity. I flipped through all the TV channels, imagining every part of Mom's body in my mind, but she was still in the bathroom. I checked the time and realized something was wrong. It wasn't relativity of waiting; Mom usually finished showering in about ten minutes, maybe twenty at most. Now it had been half an hour, and she still hadn't come out. Could something have happened?

I sat up abruptly and called out towards the bathroom, "Mom, are you there?" There was no answer. My heart sank. Without even putting on my shoes, I ran to the bathroom door and pounded on it, shouting, "Mom, are you there?" Then Mom's voice came through: "What are you doing? I'm just taking a shower, why are you making such a fuss?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was good that she was alright. I said, "You took so long to shower; I thought something had happened to you."

Mom replied, "Go watch your TV." I happily went back to the living room to watch TV, patiently waiting for Mom to come out. After a while, Mom came out, and I turned around to see she was still wearing the same bathrobe as yesterday. I was secretly pleased.

Unexpectedly, Mom went straight back to her room. I said to Mom, "Give me a massage, Mom." Mom didn't turn her head, and said indifferently, "I'm sleepy, I'm going to sleep. You've been studying all day, you must be tired too. You don't need massages anymore, have fun." I wanted to say I wasn't tired, but I knew this was just an excuse. Women might use many strange reasons to reject men, even those full of flaws. Some are deliberately coquettish, while others are genuinely just too lazy to bother with you.

Mom's somewhat distant tone reminded me that this was the latter. Only then did I realize that from last night to tonight, Mom's attitude towards me had become noticeably distant, but I was still immersed in my own fantasies, unaware of it. My mother, after all, couldn't act as recklessly as a middle school student like me. Besides, could this kind of drunken indulgence really last? Lust isn't everything in life; sexual pleasure requires genuine love and intimacy, especially since I hadn't even truly satisfied my mother's desires. Thinking about this, I sank into a deep chill.

From that day on, my relationship with my mother returned to what it was before, with a slight added awkwardness. But my busy father didn't notice and continued with his usual work and life. After sensing my mother's coldness, I initially remained hopelessly persistent, stubbornly hoping and praying that she would return to that night. After a while, I truly entered a state of utter despair, seemingly losing interest in everything. Basketball, games—things that used to tempt me so much—now I wouldn't even glance at them. After a period of this aimless existence, I began searching for things to distract me. It was nearing the end of the semester, and the atmosphere of studying in class had intensified.

One day, after waking up in class, I saw everyone listening attentively and thought, "I'll study then." For the next month, I was like a different person. I would get up at 5 a.m. every day to start memorizing, and instead of playing ball or going online with my classmates at noon, I would quietly study in the classroom. Every night, I would study until my eyes were too tired to keep open before going to bed. My friends all said I had changed, but I knew I just wanted to cut ties with the past and stop thinking about my mother. I started to fear emptiness and loneliness, forcibly bringing studying into my mind to drive away memories related to that night.

After the final exams, summer vacation began. This was probably the last time we could have fun in high school; after the new semester, we would be seniors. For the first few days, my friends and I spent our days wandering around the pool hall, internet cafe, and basketball court. I deliberately reduced the time I spent at home, trying to avoid the awkwardness of being with my mother. Until one afternoon, while I was playing pool with my classmates, my father called me, sounding happy, and asked me to come home for dinner with some of my main teachers that evening. When I got home, I found out that my homeroom teacher knew my dad. After the results came out, I ranked fifth in the grade, which was enough to guarantee me a place in a top university in our school. So he told my dad. Since my dad was off today, he invited a few teachers to dinner.

At the dinner table, the teachers and my parents were exchanging pleasantries. I just kept my head down and ate, stealing glances at my mother a few times. Once, she was looking at me too, and I quickly looked down, but I still saw the love in her eyes. My mother must be proud too. After dinner, my father asked me to get some gifts from the car and give them to the teachers. I drove home; my father was clearly quite drunk, and I didn't dare let him drive again. On the way, my father asked me what my plans were for the summer vacation, and I said I didn't have any. He suggested we go on a trip together, since the next school year would be a crucial year for preparing for the college entrance exam. I said I had no objection, and my mother agreed. After returning home, we discussed the travel route. My mother wanted to go to Jiuzhaigou, but my father and I preferred to go to Kanas for horseback riding. Although Xinjiang is very sunny now, the scenery is much better, and it's not as commercialized as Jiuzhaigou.

I've been going horseback riding with my dad since junior high. Although I'm not particularly gifted, practice makes perfect. My mom, unable to resist our persistent pleading, occasionally joins us. Her riding skills are even worse than mine, but she can manage ordinary off-road riding. With our plans finalized, we started packing. Two days later, we boarded a plane to Urumqi. After a short rest, we took a bus to Jiadengyu. Although the bus smelled terrible, the scenery outside the window was incredibly beautiful. Living in the cramped city, I rarely have the opportunity to see such expansive views. However, unexpectedly, just as we arrived in Jiadengyu and were choosing horses for our riding over the next few days, my dad's phone rang. He went out to answer it and came back a while later looking helpless, saying that another major client needed him to lead an audit. My mom asked if we could send someone else, but my dad said he didn't trust anyone else. Then he discussed with us whether we should go back together or he should go back alone. I said that since we were already here, my mom and I would enjoy ourselves before heading back; after all, this route was well-established, and I had been here before. Dad asked Mom what she thought, and Mom agreed with my idea. So Dad stayed one night and went back the next day.

Mom and I started our cycling trip to Kanas. It's less than 30 kilometers from Jiadengyu to Kanas, but to experience the scenery of Xinjiang, we decided to go to Hemu. The journey from Jiadengyu to Hemu was peaceful. After staying overnight in Hemu, we continued to Xiaohei Lake the next day.

If you're physically fit and enjoy riding a horse, the time on horseback is very comfortable. Whether walking slowly, trotting, or galloping freely across the grassland, it's much more comfortable than being in a car. In Xinjiang, a place almost naturally designed for horseback riding, you can enjoy all the pleasures of horseback riding except for the sun. You can gallop freely on the open grassland, but you have to go slowly on the hills full of gravel. Most of Xinjiang's terrain is hilly, with occasional plains and mountains. The route we chose was relatively safe, and the steepest part wasn't very steep. But it was precisely on this relatively gentle section of the road that we had an accident.

While climbing the hill, I let my mom ride slowly in front, and I followed behind. These past two days, my mom and I have been talking more, and the longing I had been harboring for her has rekindled. Watching her in jeans, her buttocks slightly raised, gently swaying on the horse's back, combined with this beautiful scene, I was absolutely thrilled. If only I could have a wild time with my mom here, with her kneeling before me giving me oral sex, her beautiful buttocks raised high, enjoying her mouth first, then moving on to her vagina... I remembered that night, the taste of her sweet little hole was still quite nice… Just as I was immersed in my fantasies, a sudden change occurred. My mother's horse seemed startled and suddenly bolted down the slope. I quickly dismounted, yelling at my mother to put off the stirrups, but she had no idea what to do and just held onto the reins. But what good were the reins at that moment? Going downhill was difficult! Sure enough, as I ran towards my mother, the horse's hooves slipped. Seeing that I was about to slide down the slope, I quickly jumped off instead of sliding along the slope. Luckily, a small tree lying across the ground slowed the horse down. I fell beside the horse, yelling for my mother to put off the stirrups while helping her pull her foot out of the ditch. At this point, my mother finally reacted and cooperated with me. I had just raised my head to catch my breath when the startled horse, sensing the tree's weakness, started kicking wildly and kicked me squarely in the shoulder. I even heard a cracking sound. Well, my horse and I went down the slope together with the broken tree, accompanied by my mother's scream. The slope wasn't too steep, but it was still quite high, and I couldn't slide all the way down. I endured the pain in my shoulder, rolled to the side to let the horse pass, slid a little further, and finally stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at the horse; its body covered in wounds, it was still neighing and kicking its legs, trying to stop me.

My mother slowly got down and helped me climb back up. Although I smelled her fragrance and felt her warmth against my skin, I had no time for anything else; the pain in my shoulder drew all my attention. Back at the top, my mother and I rode back to Hemu together. There, we quickly bandaged my scraped wound and found a car to take me to a large hospital in Urumqi. After the X-ray, it turned out to be a fracture. I told my mother that it was lucky we were on the slope, otherwise, if the horse had hit me hard, I wouldn't have been able to reach her. After saying that, I realized my words were ambiguous, but my mother didn't say anything. Later, my mother told me it was really dangerous; how could she have dared to go down? I said that if my mother had been injured, I would have been heartbroken. My mother's face flushed red, but my face was mostly covered in medicine, so it wasn't noticeable.

My father came once during my hospital stay, but left again after seeing I was alright. My mother was taking care of me alone. Seeing her in tight jeans, her bottom taut, constantly moving around in front of me, and me unable to do anything, was truly miserable. Fortunately, when my mother took a nap at noon, she would lie beside my bed, and I could slowly touch her face. I don't know if she could feel it, but she didn't object.

After staying in Urumqi for a long time, the doctor finally allowed us to take the train home. Returning home felt very comforting. After resting at home for a while, school was about to start. Knowing my condition, my teacher told me to study at home first and return to school fully recovered. So I stayed home without worry. At this point, my relationship with my mother returned to what it was before. Although I never laid a hand on her, I could sense that her attitude towards me had improved significantly since returning from Kanas. After some time, I fully recovered, so I begged my mom to take me to Mount Tai again, promising to go back to school and study hard. My mom reluctantly agreed.

Climbing Mount Tai wasn't particularly interesting; I wasn't very interested in the sunrise, and the doctor advised against strenuous exercise. We climbed for a while, then took the cable car and wandered around a bit. We then went down the mountain and found a hotel to rest. After dinner, back at our place, my mom and I chatted for a while before she went to take a shower. I took the opportunity to copy my treasured, uncut version of *Lust, Caution* to the hotel computer. When my mom came out wearing a towel, I told her, "Mom, I want you to hold me while we watch a movie." My mom looked at me and said, "Okay, but don't get any funny ideas." I said I definitely would.

My mom, wearing a bathrobe, came to my bed and we watched *Lust, Caution* together. At first, my mom held me close, and I gently rested my head against her breasts, only to be disappointed to feel her bra. Later, I slowly shifted my position, moving my arm from around my mother's neck to embracing her. As time passed, my left hand gently caressed her back. My mother shifted her back slightly and stopped objecting. My heart pounded with excitement, and I couldn't resist lowering my head to kiss her forehead. My mother looked up at me, and I couldn't resist pressing my lips to hers. She tried to pull away, but she couldn't escape me. I licked her lips, wanting to go deeper, but she clenched her teeth and turned her head to continue watching the movie. I had no choice but to give up. When we got close to the uncut part, I slipped my hand inside my mother's bathrobe and gently stroked her back. I suddenly realized that my mother was wearing the bra from the lingerie I had bought for her. This discovery greatly excited me. At that moment, the passionate scene between Tony Leung and Tang Wei appeared on the computer screen. My mother was clearly affected, her breathing becoming rapid. This was an opportunity not to be missed.

I pushed my mother down, and she let out a soft moan before I silenced her with a kiss. At first, she resisted, but I pried her teeth open. Our tongues intertwined, and I greedily sucked on her saliva. My hands were not idle either; I tore open her bathrobe, wrapped one arm around her, and touched her breast with the other.

I freed my mother's breasts from her bra, my fingers slowly entwining around her nipples, her pink buds becoming even firmer. My mother, initially passive, began to take the initiative, hugging my back and her tongue exploring my mouth. Sensing her change, I continued to caress her breasts, her mouth emitting muffled sounds. I sat up abruptly, seeing my mother gazing at me with a dazed expression, her breasts mostly exposed, her legs slowly rubbing together. I leaned down and completely unhooked her bra, kissing her left breast, savoring its taste. My right hand kneaded her left breast, shaping it in my hands, while my left hand stroked her thigh. My mother placed her hand on my head, as if encouraging me. After kissing her breasts for a while, I slowly kissed down her soft, white belly, retreating between her legs. When I touched my mother's thong, I remembered the wild night we spent together. I continued licking her vulva through the fabric. Her legs began to twist irregularly, wrapping around my back. I lifted the cloth covering her vulva, gently kissed the entrance, and then inserted my tongue, stirring it vigorously. I felt the warm, soft wetness of her vaginal walls. Her juices slowly flowed out, some dripping into my mouth. This lewd taste further aroused me.

I sat up, making my mother kneel like a dog, her buttocks facing me. She sat up softly, then lowered her head, sticking out her plump buttocks. I looked at her black hair hanging on the pillow, then pressed down on her waist, making her stick out her buttocks even higher. Seeing her obedience, I couldn't help but feel that all the previous pain and waiting had been worthwhile. Remembering how my mother used to spank me when I was little, I slapped her big bottom twice. She let out a soft moan, and I pulled her panties down to her knees, exposing her dark red anus and pink vulva. I grabbed her buttocks and attacked her cleft. I found her clitoris and sucked on it. Her body trembled, and a characteristic female moan escaped her lips. Her vagina became even wetter. I inserted my middle finger into her vagina, feeling the place where I was born. She moaned softly as my finger probed and I sucked on her clitoris. Thinking of my mother's usual dignified and virtuous appearance, and then of her current wanton state, I realized, "Appearances can be deceiving."

I took out my middle finger and inserted it into my mother's anus. Her anus contracted, and an evil thought arose in my mind. I moistened my index finger inside her vagina and then forcefully inserted it as well. My mother mumbled "no," and tried to pull my hand away. I slapped her hand away and asked, "Mom, is it good?" My mother just made soft moaning sounds as my finger moved in and out. I felt the time was right, so I pulled down my shorts, positioned my genitals against my mother's vagina, and said, "I'm going in, Mom." She didn't speak, but that was her answer. I thrust my hips forward, and my genitals entered my mother's most private place. My mother's vagina was still a little tight, and the warm, moist vagina enveloped my genitals. At the same time, my mother let out a soft moan, different from her usual somewhat suppressed groans. I could hear the pleasure in her voice. I held my mother's slender waist and then thrust in and out forcefully.

During the day, my mother was someone I could only look up to from afar, but now she knelt before me, her buttocks raised, letting me thrust into her vagina forcefully. She let out wanton moans. I leaned down, pressing against her back, one hand reaching to her breasts, kneading them, the other into her mouth, making her suck on my index and middle fingers that had been inside her vagina and anus. With my fingers in her mouth, she groaned indistinctly. After a few dozen thrusts, I pulled my fingers out of her mouth. Holding her waist, watching her moan beneath me, my erection hardened again. Her juices splattered, soaking the sheets beneath us. I helped her lie down, letting her sit on me with her back to me. Her long hair cascading down her back was alluring. I lay there watching her plump, firm buttocks sway with the power of her lean waist. After enjoying my mother's ministrations for a while, I placed my hands on her waist and began to move up and down in sync with the rise and fall of her hips. By this time, her moans had turned into soft "ahs" and "ahs." Seeing that she was running out of energy, I had her lie down flat, then aimed at her vagina and began thrusting again. I lowered my head and took her nipple into my mouth, then took one of her hands and made her knead it herself. After a while, her moans grew louder, and I felt she was about to climax, so I thrust even harder. Watching my genitals moving in and out of her vagina filled me with immense pleasure, both psychologically and physically. Then, her vagina twitched, and I knew she was about to climax. I thought that since she wasn't fully conscious at this moment, I might as well… I pulled out and then aimed my still-dripping penis at her mouth, inserting it inside her. She took it into her mouth and licked it with her tongue. I inserted my fingers into my mother's vagina and anus, thrusting forcefully. Her vagina contracted sharply, and she mumbled something indistinctly as she sucked on my penis. I felt myself about to ejaculate, so I leaned down and kissed her vagina in a 69 position, while my penis began to actively thrust in and out of her mouth. My mother let me ravage her vagina and her cute little mouth. While I was fiddling with her anus, I asked her if it felt good. She mumbled a soft "hmm," and I thrust into her mouth a few times before ejaculating inside.

From that day on, my relationship with my mother truly evolved, becoming like that of lovers. When we were together, she would manage me, and I would manage her… Although my management of her was limited, I still had some control over her, like when she dressed. I often made my mother wear a suit and skirt to work so that during breaks between classes, I could run to her office and slip my hand under her skirt… My father, who had been my only family, finally left me. Looking at my father, who had raised me for fifteen years, lying quietly on his sickbed, I held back my tears. He had told me to be independent, but on his deathbed, he handed me a will. When I gently smoothed out the crumpled paper, it said that only 10,000 yuan was left to me in the bank account, along with a phone number: the number of my mother who had left my father years ago. Should I go live with her? I fell into deep thought, because according to my father's vague memories, she seemed to have settled down in a big city, sending him only 1,000 yuan a year for living expenses.

I picked up my phone, installed the phone number on the will, and dialed. The call connected, but she immediately hung up. I was disappointed. Was my mother really so heartless? Five minutes later, a text message appeared on my phone: "What's the matter that you have to call?" I hesitated for a moment, then immediately replied. While I was typing, another text message arrived: "I already transferred the money at the beginning of the year, don't bother me anymore!" I stopped typing and pressed the call button. The app on my phone told me my mother's city was *City. Seeing the city's name, I hung up again and left the house.

What followed was the cremation, dropping out of school, renting out the small apartment for 500 yuan a month, and then, like a migrant worker, packing my bags, taking my bankbook, going to the train station, and buying a 500 yuan ticket to *City.

Emerging from the crowded platform, I was met with a dense throng of people. I had no idea whether to go left or right. I pulled out my phone and dialed my mother's number again. This time, she didn't hang up; the call rang for a long time, but no one answered. So I sat foolishly at the platform entrance, waiting from day to night. I dialed again, but the response was always, "The number you dialed is not in service. The number you dialed is not in service..."

Following my hometown custom, I went to an internet cafe and slept there overnight. The next morning, I dialed my mother's number again, only to be told, "The number you dialed is out of service..." For several days, I was almost in despair. I spent my days frantically playing games at the internet cafe because my classmates were in class, and at night I would desperately cry to them on QQ. They all advised me to go back home, or stay at their homes, but I knew very well that I couldn't stay there forever.

I called my mother countless times every day, knowing the answer would always be, "The number you dialed is out of service..." Then one day, I stopped calling. I opened a webpage and desperately typed in my mother's phone number. Suddenly, my eyes lit up—the number was listed! It was a number left by a minor celebrity or model for easy contact. My mother's real name was someone else—Xiao Li.

I was shocked. Years ago, my mother couldn't stand the rustic atmosphere of our small city and left my father a year after I was born. In a fit of anger, he burned all her belongings and hadn't told me anything about her for 15 years. The only proof of her existence was a lonely, unreachable phone number!

Since she was a minor celebrity, she must have a Weibo account. I hadn't learned anything in school, but I had learned to use the internet. I opened my mother's Weibo account, and a series of stunning photos appeared before me. A wave of happiness filled my heart. Today, she was filming a play at the ** Theater. She posted the Weibo message at 12:15, just one minute ago! No, I have to find her, to see her!

I waited for her for almost two hours outside the ** Theater. Time flew by. When my mother suddenly appeared before me, I was surprised to see how young and beautiful she was. An overwhelming sense of happiness washed over me. I wanted to surprise her, so I pulled out my phone from my clothes and dialed her number. Surprisingly, the call went through. My mother paused about five meters away from me, took out a worn-out, vibrating phone from her Burberry bag, her face darkened, and she muttered, "Calling to urge me to pay before the due date is up. I should have known better than to top up the money." Then she hung up the phone... Only five meters away, I watched her hang up the phone. My heart sank to the lowest point, and tears welled up in my eyes. I hadn't even cried when my father passed away, but at this moment, tears involuntarily streamed down my face. She seemed to sense my presence, turned her head and looked at me, paused for a moment, her delicate brows furrowed slightly, and then she hailed a taxi.

In the days that followed, I tracked down her address through Weibo and discovered that she was actually a mistress kept by a wealthy man, living in a notorious neighborhood for mistresses, and raising his illegitimate child, three years younger than me named Bobo. So I rented a small room in the building opposite hers, directly opposite hers, and then worked odd jobs at the convenience store downstairs from my mother's building. Although my mother didn't know, I knew in my heart that I was with her. Sometimes when she came to buy something, she would smile at me. So every night after get off work, I would stand at the window of my small room and gaze at her window across the street, but the distance was too far, and I could only vaguely see a figure. So I gritted my teeth and bought a high-powered telescope, but whenever my mother was changing... I hurriedly drew the curtains while getting dressed. Even so, I could see my mother almost every day through binoculars, though there was an almost imperceptible air between us. I worked like this for almost a year, until that day… Chapter One: That day, although it was my sixteenth birthday, was just an ordinary Thursday. My mother's son, Bobo, suddenly pushed open the door of the convenience store. He wasn't tall and was in the first year of junior high. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings. Seeing that no one was around, he excitedly told me that he was going to do something big that night. He asked if I knew anything about computers because the convenience store had a second-hand laptop used for surveillance. I usually used it to watch online videos when no one was around. I thought to myself, I know this best. I deliberately asked him what he was going to do. Bobo lowered his voice mysteriously and said, "Brother Xiaofeng, I bought a Wi-Fi webcam today. It's already installed, but I don't know how to connect it to my computer…" I was secretly shocked. What was a first-year junior high kid up to? Suppressing my surprise, I feigned composure and said, "Brother will help you get it sorted!" Actually, my heart was pounding because it was my first time visiting my mother's house.

Bo Bo jumped up excitedly, grabbed my hand, and whispered, "Brother, this is our secret! You absolutely mustn't tell anyone, or my mom will kill me!" His face flushed red as he finished speaking. Looking at his slightly embarrassed face, my suspicions deepened.

I followed Bo Bo out the door, hung a "close" sign on the convenience store door, and took the elevator with him to my mother's house on the 16th floor.

Actually, I already knew the layout of my mother's house using binoculars. It was a small two-bedroom, one-living-room house. My mother's bedroom faced south, directly opposite my north-facing room. Bobo lived in the small north room, which I couldn't see. I followed Bobo inside, and when I looked up, I saw a calendar on the shoe cabinet by the door. Today's date was circled in big red. I paused for a moment, but Bobo ignored me completely, dragging me straight into his room. He handed me a CD and then begged me to sit in front of the computer so he could install a program for me. I turned on the computer, paused like a boss, and looked up at him, as if to say, "Aren't you going to get me some water?"

Bobo was clever and said loudly, "I have freshly ground coffee. I'll make you a cup!" He then got up and left me to go to the living room to prepare my coffee.

I watched him leave, put the CD in, and start installing the program. There wasn't much to do in the convenience store, so I studied the computer. As I installed, I habitually switched to the desktop and casually opened his C drive. My intuition told me that a man's computer must have porn, so I started searching for AVI format. Sure enough, I found a hidden directory. Opening it, I was shocked to find articles about incest between mothers and sons, and the related videos were very similar. My heart skipped a beat. What kind of program was he installing?

Just then, Bobo excitedly placed a coffee in front of me and loudly said, "Xiaofeng, please use it!" I wondered what this brat was up to. So I turned to him and pretended to be serious, saying, "Bobo, there's a big problem with this directory, ah..." Then I turned the screen to show him the incestuous directory.

Bo Bo was startled, his face turning bright red instantly. He became awkward and hesitated for a moment before suddenly snapping, "You stinking country bumpkin! My business is none of your concern!" I was stunned, feeling as if a heavy hammer had struck my heart. Was my mother's departure from my father also because of the word "country bumpkin"? My father often sighed when he mentioned my mother, saying she left him because he was a country bumpkin. And today, her child was mocking me in the same way. Thinking of this, I gritted my teeth, glared at him fiercely, and prepared to get up and leave this hateful place!

But Bo Bo changed his expression quickly. Seeing my fierce look, he immediately softened and said gently, "Big brother, it was my fault for finding out. Please help me install it. Look, this coffee has lots of sugar in it, it smells so good!" He changed so quickly. Are city people really this fickle? My heart skipped a beat. I figured I should figure out what this kid was up to, so I forced a smile, pointed to the screen, and said, "It's installed!" Hearing this, Bo Bo jumped up excitedly. He pushed me away from my chair, sat down, and double-clicked the program. To his dismay, it was just another bunch of Wi-Fi settings. He could only sheepishly get up from his chair and mutter, "Help me fix it, this will let me see the screen." I pretended to sigh, sat back down, and started setting it up. Actually, this software was just a Wi-Fi setup, but the interface was in English, filled with complicated parameters and viewing passwords. After I finished all that, when I opened the program again, a large wardrobe and a bed suddenly appeared on the screen. A quick glance told me it was my mother's bedroom, because I'd scanned it with binoculars during the day when she wasn't home and the windows were open. What was this kid up to? "You're not trying to spy on my mother, are you...?

" Bo Bo's face lit up with excitement when he saw the displayed image, but it immediately darkened, and he suddenly said to me, "You'd better leave now, my mom will be back soon!" Hey kid, your mood changes faster than flipping through a book. I suppressed my annoyance, didn't even finish my coffee, and got up to leave his room. He was already too lazy to pay attention to me, excitedly using the remote control on the interface to adjust the camera angle. Just as I was about to leave the room, he coldly called out to me:

"If you dare say those things to my mom, you just wait and see!" I ignored him, turned around, closed the door, took the elevator back to the convenience store, sat down in front of the monitoring computer, and immediately downloaded an identical driver program from the internet. Actually, since it was Wi-Fi, I could see it too. I quickly opened the window, sat in front of the computer, and saw the camera moving around, zooming in and out. Just as I was testing it, my boss, Zhang Cong, pushed open the door and saw me playing on the computer. He yelled at me fiercely, "You lazybones! When I came in just now..." "Why was it closed?" I shuddered. He lived downstairs from my mother, and he only ran this small shop because of his wife. But he was usually too lazy to look after it. When his wife wasn't home, he would go out to play cards. Actually, I was the one who managed the whole shop. His wife often argued with him about it. And their son, Mingming, was Bobo's playmate, a year older than Bobo. They were both little devils who were difficult to deal with. Last time, he mysteriously stole a few condoms from me. I had to check the security camera footage to find out that he was the thief, which led to the boss giving me a severe scolding.

After Zhang Cong finished speaking, he turned around and left angrily. A little while later, a customer came. While I was handling the business, I kept thinking about what that little devil was planning to do that night.

It was almost 11 PM, and just as I was about to close the door, my mother's patron suddenly pushed it open. He was a bearded man, always wearing Zegna clothes. Sometimes when I stared into my mother's room at night, I often saw him roughly push open the door, grab her, and kiss her passionately. My mother would blush and let him touch her while she quickly went to the window and drew the curtains. Today, he, like his son, asked me in a low voice, "Young man, do you have any medicine here?" I asked him in surprise, "What kind of medicine are you talking about?" "Nonsense, of course, it's aphrodisiacs!" he sighed and said. Just as I was about to reply, he continued, seemingly unsatisfied,

"Young man, you don't understand. Women only reach their prime around 40, it's endless. I came straight from the company today without any medicine. Do you have any?" I calmed myself down and remembered that after the boss's son stole the condoms last time, he noticed I hadn't reported him to Zhang Cong and treated me like a brother. He even asked me to buy some aphrodisiacs, saying he was too young and sometimes worried about not being able to perform. I almost punched him then, but he said he'd pay whatever it cost. So, thinking that since the boss was so stingy, I could make money off his son, I took 400 yuan from him and bought some aphrodisiacs for 50 yuan at a pharmacy on the street. However, he hadn't come to pick them up yet. Well, I figured I'd sell them to this uncle today. I calmly took the medicine from the back and said to him, "I do have some, but only a few!" "Okay, I'll take them all. Here's 200 yuan, keep the change!" With that, he grabbed the medicine, pushed open the door, and left.

I was about to haggle with him when I thought, "Damn it, this whole family is no good." I cursed as I slammed the door shut, took my laptop home, and left. Zhang Cong made me bring my laptop home every day because he was worried about the shop being robbed, so I could use it to watch videos online. When I

got home, it was freezing cold. I cooked a packet of instant noodles. It was my birthday, and I had taken an extra egg from the shop to cook with it. As I sat in front of the binoculars with my steaming noodles, I saw my mother's house brightly lit through the small lens. The bearded man was embracing that annoying Bobo, while my mother was muttering something. It was so late; I guessed he was telling him to go to bed early. Bobo suddenly struggled and jumped off his father, then jumped into my mother's arms, rubbing his little head against her breasts. My mother let him rub against her, and the bearded man laughed heartily, saying something. The clock was almost pointing to midnight. My birthday was almost over. Looking at that happy family, I really wanted to be a part of them. I wanted my mother to hold me tightly too.

I slowly left the telescope, and tears welled up in my eyes again. I missed my father that day. I turned on the computer and went online. When I turned back to look at that happy living room, I found that the living room lights were off, while the lights in my mother's bedroom were on, but the curtains had been drawn by my mother.

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