Ode to Joy (1-1) My Love (Part 1)

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

My Love (Part 1)

***************************************************************************************************************** This story is purely fictional. Those with weak psychological resilience should not read it; otherwise, they will bear the consequences themselves. The erotic descriptions in this article are relatively mild; readers are encouraged to use their imagination.
**********************************************************************************************************

Chapter 1: Mother and Me (Part 1)

My father is rugged in appearance and meticulous in his work. He is a hardworking worker, accustomed to working under the scorching sun for long periods, with dark skin and well-developed muscles. He is tall and thin, and takes everything he does seriously. He is also strict, but not without his endearing qualities.

My mother is the complete opposite of my father. She is petite, gentle, with brown hair and brown eyes, and is a very traditional housewife. We children inherited her good looks; we also have brown hair and brown eyes. My mother is witty but somewhat casual, completely different from my father's straightforward personality.

Their sex life has always been harmonious. In the first three years of their marriage, my mother gave birth to three children. If my father hadn't left for a while, I would certainly have more siblings than I have now.

My earliest memory of my mother begins with an innocent family game from my childhood.

I was naturally very active; by the time I was two and still babbling, I was already able to walk around and was curious about everything I encountered.

One day, although it was broad daylight, my parents were hiding in their room. I wanted to play with them, so I pushed open the door to their room (none of the rooms in my house were locked) and went in. I saw my mother lying on the bed, her pajamas slipping off her shoulders, revealing two swollen breasts.

That day, my father taught me a new word—breast. But until I was ten, the only thing I associated with that word was fried chicken. My mother's breasts were the most beautiful in the world—large, firm, and perky, without sagging. The nipples were cherry-red, surrounded by areolas the size of silver coins. At

that moment, my father was suckling at my mother's breast. He made me climb onto the bed, and I curiously stroked and gently patted it, discovering that Mom enjoyed it. Dad and I maintained a tacit understanding: he would first lower his head and suckle Mom's breasts for a while, then leave, allowing me to stroke and pat them, while Mom moaned happily. Later, I playfully slapped Mom's snow-white breasts hard, causing her pain, but they both laughed heartily, seemingly very happy.

Only one thing puzzled me: Dad never let me suckle Mom's full breasts like he did, even though I remembered doing so a year ago. Unconvinced, I climbed to Mom's side, wanting to suckle her other breast, but the game was over; Dad chased me off the bed, and they continued their amusing game.

Unwilling to accept defeat, for the next twenty years, I tried every possible way to get close to Mom's breasts, just like various attempts in life. My efforts had their successes and failures.

In fact, my next success came a year later.

By then, Dad had started drinking heavily and his temper had become very bad. He could explode at any moment, not just at us, but at everyone in the world, especially the local police. It was a family tradition; all four of his older brothers were like that. The five of them would often go to the pub together, drink heavily, and then get into fights. If they couldn't find anyone else, they'd fight amongst themselves until the bartender called the police.

Eventually, Dad paid the price, serving two years in prison for assault while drunk, leaving Mom and us children to struggle.

We soon discovered that Mom hated sleeping alone, so my two sisters and I took turns sleeping with her.

Don't get me wrong, there's absolutely nothing sexual in this. Mom wasn't a pervert; she just loved the warm, comforting feeling of holding someone, whether it was a man, a woman, a boy, or a girl. She just didn't want to sleep alone.

I didn't mind at all. Kids, like kittens and puppies, who wouldn't want to lie comfortably in their mother's warm embrace, listening to her hum lullabies to lull them to sleep? But on the other hand, because Mom liked to wear see-through nightgowns, I could see her beautiful, full breasts quite clearly. Of course, I was too young to talk about sex at that age; it was just my natural love—a child's deep attachment to their mother.

But when it was my sisters' turn to sleep with Mom, I was neglected for weeks. Mom said she was tired of waking up every time because I was suckling her breast. Usually, Mom's pajamas covered her completely, but occasionally I would find a way to pull them open, exposing her bare breasts, and then suckle them as enthusiastically as Dad did.

When I wasn't sleeping with Mom, I usually slept with another sister who hadn't had her turn yet. But to me, there was nothing special; they were both younger than me, their breasts hadn't developed yet. In my mind, they were just two little ones. The only difference between us was that they squatted to use the toilet, and they didn't have to fix their hair like I did.

A few times, none of the three of us had to sleep with Mom; she would bring a few men home for a night or a week, who knows. After all, Mom was still young and healthy; she always said that if Dad didn't know, he wouldn't have been hurt. That was just her way of having fun. Those guys were nothing more than automatic toys in my mother's eyes, destined to leave once her desires were satisfied.

My father was released from prison when I was five, and that's when our family's life truly began to change.

He was like a different person; he became religious, cautious, and found a good job. Our family's life improved day by day.

I still slept with my two sisters until I was ten. We each slept in our own beds, but I felt a sense of loss after we separated.

I had passed through my childhood of hating girls and entered puberty with rapidly escalating sexual urges. Worse still, I inherited my parents' strong sexual desires.

Because of my father's return, my longing for my mother's breasts remained only in my imagination, with my father continuing to fulfill his obligations. My father liked to read a magazine called "Men's Magazine," which he hid under his pillow, and I found it. Whenever they weren't in the room, I would sneak in to admire the women in the magazine; it was my earliest sexual awakening publication.

Of course, magazines like Playboy and Penthouse today would probably scoff at the content of this magazine. Its pictures were black and white, and the girls in them always covered their nipples with their hands, arms, or something like a fence. In my memory, women's breasts seemed to have two pointed bumps on them, as if specifically designed to fill a man's mouth. Also, the women's legs in the pictures were always together; what were they trying to hide?

When I was nine, a cousin of mine showed me the secrets. On the way back from hunting rabbits, he talked at length about the mysteries of the female body and why men like to stare at women. I learned two new words—vagina and intercourse. He told me that women don't have a penis between their legs, but there's a slit called a "vagina," and men can put their penises into this slit; that's called "intercourse." He also told me that when a man and a woman are thirty, they can have a baby through intercourse.

Then I proudly taught this knowledge to the neighborhood children, acting like a nine-year-old sex guru. As a result, my younger sister and the older sister of my best friend across the street were moved by me and wanted to have what was called "sexual intercourse" with me. I liked the older sister across the street the most; she was twelve years old and her breasts had already started to develop.

Later, all the neighborhood kids came to play this game. Of all the girls, only my younger sister wouldn't let me touch her vulva. I felt it was unfair because the girls I played with also had brothers, and they could play with their vulvas and breasts. Why couldn't I touch my sister?

I said we were just playing because my cousin hadn't described in detail how men "had sex" when they pulled down a woman's underwear; we were just playing a game.

A group of us boys would chase after girls, grab one, pull down her underwear, spread her thighs, and pry open her hairless labia to see the little hole we all wanted to enter, but all the holes were very small. My cousin hadn't mentioned the hymen or that a woman's vagina could stretch, so we were just satisfied with rubbing our penises back and forth on her labia, thinking we had "had sex," and the girls obviously enjoyed it. Whenever this happened, I would feel smug, thinking I was doing something grown-up.

I especially loved smelling or licking the girls' vulvas; I loved the smell. My cousin never told me this, and I guess it was just my nature. When I licked girls' vulvas, they always did something strange, but it never made me stop.

However, this didn't last long. Six months later, we moved, and my early "sexual life" ended in a sense.

Our family seemed unable to stay anywhere for long, which meant I didn't have enough time to convince the neighbor girls to take off their underwear for me, which frustrated me. Worse still, my dad stopped buying teen magazines.

As time went on, I reached the age of ejaculation, and I was surprised to find that my penis was getting bigger and harder. I learned more words, such as penis, vagina, and anus. I often fought with my younger siblings and, like other older boys, enjoyed bullying younger boys. I learned a lot from these fights, but my dad always sided with my siblings, so I could only rely on my mom.

Later, our family finally settled in California, and my parents bought a small house. Due to age and taboos, the boys and girls lived separately. I lived with my two younger brothers, my two younger sisters had a smaller room, and my parents had the largest bedroom with a big bed.

At this point, I need to clarify something: in the seven years after my father's release from prison, their love remained so deep, sometimes terrifying to me, but it also taught me that when you find someone you truly love, joy can be eternal. My father was lucky to have found my mother, and I was happy for them.

Of course, I was still infatuated with my mother's breasts, but only in a literal sense.

My mother's love for my father was as deep as his love for my mother, but with one difference: my mother had a certain flirtatious streak, and I became her primary victim. My mother liked to start wearing pajamas at dusk; she also liked wearing transparent, revealing, low-cut clothes. When she sat down to read the newspaper or watch TV, her pajamas would fall to her chest, and I could even see her erect nipples. I would often go over and look down at her protruding breasts and cherry-red nipples—it was my childhood dream. I desperately wanted to reach out and touch her, but that was my father's prerogative, not mine.

When I was fifteen, things got even worse. My mother often walked around the room at night in her pajamas, sometimes even less than she wore in bed. Several times, I'd run into her on my way to the bathroom or to get a drink of water. She wore a very narrow, short slip (transparent, of course), barely covering her armpits, just enough to enclose her firm, full breasts, extending down to just below the pubic area, barely concealing her slightly protruding vulva. But as she moved, the slip would sway, and I could clearly see the ripples of her large breasts and the dark, curly pubic hair between her legs.

I started to wonder if my mother had any "that kind of" interest in me. Of course, by then I knew the meaning of "incest," and I knew it was against common sense and condemned by society, but I didn't care. I started trying to seduce my mother, but she seemed to find my efforts amusing.

When I was sixteen, my father lost his job, and our family's financial situation suddenly became very difficult. When things got worse and unsustainable, Dad had to consider going out to work.

He found a construction job on the West Coast, which at least guaranteed him a salary for a year. To keep our family afloat, Dad accepted the job, meaning he had to leave home for a considerable period.

Before leaving, he held my hand and said, "Now I'm the head of this family. I should take responsibility for taking care of Mom and my siblings because I'm all grown up now."

It was just a father's parting words to his son, nothing particularly significant. He often said the same thing to me before, because I was the eldest son.

I agreed, reassuring Dad, but my attention shifted to Mom.

Why did Mom look at me so strangely when Dad gave me his usual instructions?

A week after Dad left, Mom became even more alluring.

Every night when I went to the bathroom, I encountered many "strange sights." Mom was still wearing a tight short skirt, but it was shorter now, only covering her nipples, exposing most of her snow-white chest muscles and revealing a deep cleavage, often making my eyes bulge. Almost every time I got up in the middle of the night, I would find my mother dressed like this, as if she was deliberately waiting for me. I wondered what her real purpose was.

On the first Sunday after my father left, my mother and I sat together in the living room, but it felt incredibly boring. My mother seemed restless. She said she wanted to teach me a game of two-player solitaire. She was wearing a light brown, sheer old nightgown, and as she bent over to shuffle the cards, I could see her firm, red nipples through the neckline. Every time our hands accidentally touched a card, my mother's body trembled as if she had been electrocuted, and her breasts quivered alluringly.

We could feel a tense, restless atmosphere in the room.

My mother was sweating profusely, despite the cold room and her scantily clad body. My body temperature rose rapidly due to this atmosphere. My genitals also swelled uncontrollably, becoming larger than ever before, but because they were tightly bound by my jeans, the head of my penis throbbed painfully.

I started thinking of other new games, looking for one that my mother could join in, but just the two of us. My mother exuded an alluring, mature woman's fragrance, a scent that could arouse a man's desire. This stirred lewd and obscene thoughts within me, and my longing for her body suddenly became stronger than ever.

I thought my mother was probably feeling the same way, but with other children around, she dared not make a move. In the living room, my sister Rose was watching us play cards with great interest. Under such focused gazes, how could I possibly have the chance to slip my hand inside my mother's pajamas? Remembering how often she and I argued and fought, I wanted nothing more than to kick her out of the room.

But on the other hand, I felt a lingering fear.

I was only sixteen, while my mother was a mature woman of thirty-two, older than me and my own mother. Could it be that I was just being delusional, misunderstanding her intentions? Perhaps she was simply concerned for her child, driven by natural maternal love?

After all, she was my mother; how could a son lay a hand on his father's woman? The textbooks clearly state that incest is wrong, incest is bad, and incest has serious consequences; there should be no doubt about that.

Thinking about this made me feel suffocated.

These terrible and chaotic thoughts strongly troubled me. I stood up and told my mother I wasn't feeling well and wanted to go back to my room to sleep.

"Okay, baby. We'll come see you again tomorrow morning. Get some rest tonight," my mother said lovingly, giving me a goodbye kiss. But this time she didn't kiss my cheek; instead, she kissed my lips, and I swear her tongue touched mine.

The unexpected stimulation forced me to ejaculate twice before I finally fell asleep, exhausted.

Around 3 a.m., I woke up needing to urinate and had to go to the toilet. I reluctantly got up, a little afraid to go, because I was almost certain Mom would be waiting for me in the hallway as usual.

But I was wrong; Mom wasn't waiting in the hallway. It seems I was being paranoid. Come to think of it, it was 3 a.m.; even if Mom was interested, she wouldn't stay up until then.

Oh, great, I haven't had such an easy time going to the toilet in a long time.

On my way back to my room, I passed Mom's bedroom, where she usually slept in her enviable big bed.

The door was open, everything seemed normal. I stopped because I heard strange clattering sounds and rhythmic groans coming from Mom's bedroom.

What was wrong with Mom? I thought she must be doing something strange again, but maybe she was sick? Perhaps I should call the doctor.

The room was dark, but I could clearly see my mother standing in front of the dressing table, facing the mirror. Her left hand was on the table, her right hand obscured, so I couldn't see what she was doing. However, I could tell her right hand was moving back and forth near her groin, as if pushing something inside her. The clattering sound came from the dressing table, and the moans came from my mother; she let out pleasurable moans as her right hand moved.

I stared blankly at the mirror, and in it, I saw my mother's full breasts trembling with her masturbation.

Oh, what a sensual and stimulating scene! But before I could appreciate it, I was captivated by my mother's expression.

Her eyes were open, but not at her trembling breasts, nor at her groin; they were fixed on me, clearly watching my reaction.

Dim moonlight streamed in through the window, and I think I saw a desperate plea and need in her eyes.

Suddenly, I felt extreme fear and confusion. I ran back to my bedroom as if my life depended on it, and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning when I woke up, I found my mother standing in front of my bed (this time wearing a well-fitting bathrobe)

touching my forehead.

"You're a little hot. Looks like you have a pretty high fever. I think you'd better not go to school today."

Actually, I was fine and didn't have a fever, but what sixteen-year-old boy could possibly like going to school? If my mother agreed to let me skip school, who would be foolish enough to insist on going?

After she made breakfast for my younger siblings, she sent them all off to school as usual.

Ten minutes later, my siblings had all left, and my mother came in: "You're not sick. Get up and take a shower first. I have something to tell you." She commanded, but her tone was gentle.

I slipped into the bathroom, adjusted the water temperature to a comfortable level, and began my morning routine of masturbating. Just as I was enjoying myself, the bathroom door suddenly opened, and my mother was standing in the doorway.

Chapter One: My Mother and Me (Part Two)

"I told you you were supposed to take a shower, not play with your thing. Did you expect me to stand here and watch you shower?" she said angrily.

"No, no, no! Mom, please, please close the door!" I pleaded.

After Mom's interruption, I lost interest, and my penis quickly shrank.

I hurriedly finished my shower and was drying myself with a towel when the door opened again, and Mom came in.

"Hi, baby, let Mom help you," Mom said, drying me with a large, soft towel.

"I didn't want to interrupt your good time, baby," she said, "but we need to talk about last night. I think it'll be good for both of us, if you didn't ejaculate."

After drying me off, Mom took my hand and led me to her bedroom. We sat together on the bed; she was still wearing the bathrobe she had been wearing.

“Now, let’s talk about what happened in the bathroom. How many times do you masturbate every day? I’ve never seen a boy ejaculate as frequently as you.”

“Oh, Mom! I don’t ejaculate as much as you say!”

She grinned and said, “Be honest, don’t try to fool your mother. Think about who does your laundry. Your shorts are always covered in dried semen, your sheets are always stained, not to mention you use every pair of your sister’s and mine’s underwear as a rag. Your brothers are only seven and eight years old, it couldn’t be them, so who else could it be but you? Tell me, how many times?”

I looked down at the floor and hesitated, “Usually five times, sometimes seven.”

Mom’s eyes lit up and she murmured, “Great.”

She lifted my head and made me look at her.

“Last night I saw you staring at me. Do you know what I was doing?”

“No, Mom. At first I thought you were catching something, but you looked like you were enjoying yourself. Mom, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have peeked.”

“You weren’t peeking, child. I made you look. I needed you to look so we could talk.

I really wished you would come into the room last night, but it’s good this way. Now we have things to talk about, and we can see what the other is doing and with whom. I was masturbating, what you call masturbation.”

“Does Mom do that too?”

“Of course, honey.” She said, “People do that when they can’t satisfy their sexual needs. Okay, now let’s go to bed.”

She had me lie down in the middle of the bed, then went to the window, drew back the curtains, and let the morning sunlight into the bedroom.

Then she took a strip of black cloth from the closet, went behind me, and suddenly blindfolded me with the cloth, tying a knot in it.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll untie it for you soon. I just wanted to surprise you.” I was pondering what my mother meant when I heard something slip down, like a snake. Then the bed moved; my mother had gotten into bed and lay down next to me on the pillow.

“Okay, I’ll untie the blindfold, but don’t peek, okay? Keep your eyes closed.” She said, “Swear you won’t peek.”

“Okay, Mom, I swear.”

My mother untied the blindfold, letting it fall around my neck. I kept my promise and kept my eyes tightly shut. I smelled my mother’s faint fragrance again, the same delicate, musky scent I’d smelled while playing cards last night. My lower body began to harden. My mother must have seen it; I wanted to know her reaction.

“Okay, child, open your eyes.”

God, my mother is so beautiful!

The “hissing” sound was just the sound of her bathrobe slipping off. My mother’s body, now before me, was like God’s most perfect masterpiece, naked and dazzlingly beautiful. Naturally, my gaze first fell upon my mother's breasts, which I had always longed to climb since childhood.

Since I was three, I had never had the chance to see them without obstruction. Now they were openly displayed before me, still so white, firm, and full, the nipples as red as I remembered, now erect and aroused.

My eyes quickly swept over my mother's vulva, not daring to linger. I knew I had to, because I knew my mother might have come up with a new way to tease this novice, and soon I would be sent back to my room to masturbate to these memories.

My mother's pubic hair was jet black and shiny, looking somewhat damp, the thick pubic hair covering the entire mound, obscuring the slit I had seen with my girlfriend in the same grade.

Suddenly, Mom thrust her pelvis forward, arching her back and revealing the cleft of her vulva. She spread her labia with her hands, and I could see a large, granular object at the top of the cleft. Was this the "clitoris" I'd read about in a wedding manual I'd stolen from Mom's girlfriend? Below it was a deep, unfathomable hole, seemingly capable of swallowing my penis effortlessly.

The thought of the pleasure of my penis being swallowed by Mom's mysterious opening made me tremble involuntarily. My penis became erect and fully hard, clear fluid oozing from the tip.

At the same time, Mom pulled a long, white plastic dildo from under her pillow. She told me it could relax her muscles, then inserted it into her vagina and began to thrust forcefully.

“This is what I did last night,” she said. “I wanted a real penis inside me, but all I had was this cold plastic toy. I could only use it to comfort myself. How I wished someone could completely save me.

But last night my cowardly son didn’t have the courage to do it. Now I don’t need it anymore. I want you, son, come on!”

Somehow, I misunderstood my mother’s meaning because she was still rubbing her vulva with that plastic thing.

“Are you still going to use this thing to satisfy yourself?” I asked stupidly.

“No, child, I don’t want to do it alone. I think it’s more fun if we do it together.”

This time I didn’t misunderstand. I stammered, “Mom, you mean we…we…together…uh…together…that…uh…together with it?”

“No, baby, we’re not going to use ‘it’. We’re going to make love together! I’ll suck your penis, and you’ll lick my hole. You’ll suck Mom’s breasts, fuck Mom’s breasts, and I’m going to suck every drop of your semen so you can’t get up today.”

She turned me around and gently kissed my mouth with her wet lips.

“Don’t hate your mother, child,” she said, and for the first time, I saw tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m not old yet. I have a strong sex drive just like you, but no one can truly satisfy me. I can’t just go out on the street and pick up any man; your father would find out, and I don’t want to hurt him. Your father asked you to take care of me before he passed away. I don’t think he meant it, but now I really need you to.

” “Oh, Mom, I’ve never hated you. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you, but I don’t know what to do. I’ve never actually done this with a woman before.”

“I suppose so. You don’t even know how to kiss.”

“Teach me, Mom.”

Mom leaned closer to me, and her lips met mine again. I felt her tongue gently glide across my lips, then tease my teeth, trying to push in.

“Open your lips a little wider, baby,” Mom said.

I felt Mom’s soft, warm tongue slip into my mouth, intertwining intensely with mine. I instinctively resisted her advance, but her tongue suddenly flicked back into her mouth, drawing my tongue into hers instead.

What an erotic experience! Our tongues intertwined passionately, each thrusting and retreating, desperately sucking on the other's saliva.

At the same time, Mom guided my hand to her high, firm breasts, squeezing and kneading her nipples. I felt my penis harden like never before.

Mom turned to me and said, "You want to suck on them, don't you? Do you remember what you were like when you were little? You used to sleep with me back then."

"I remember, Mom. You used to kick me off the bed because I kept sucking on your nipples."

"I kicked you off because I loved it so much. When you were a baby, your father didn't approve of me breastfeeding you, saying it would ruin the shape of my breasts, but didn't he suckle every day? But whenever I had the chance, I would secretly breastfeed you, you remember? You were a natural at suckling, and every time I almost came."

Mom's hand gently stroked my hard, throbbing penis, her slender fingers lightly tapping my glans, spreading the clear lubricant that had flowed from my glans with excitement all over my penis and shaft. It felt so good, so good that I couldn't stop gasping for breath.

"Now I'll teach you how to use

your mouth, watch carefully," she said. Mom suddenly lowered her head, opened her mouth and took my penis in. The warm feeling enveloped my entire body, and I couldn't help but groan, having never experienced oral sex before. Mom was deliberately trying to embarrass me. Her head rose and fell, her lips tightly sucking on my penis, sucking hard, while her tongue circled the shaft, wriggling back and forth, her teeth gently biting the base of my penis, the squeezing sending a radiant sensation through me.

I had read in some novels about men ejaculating in women's mouths to please them, and I didn't want my first time to be wasted so easily, but I could no longer control my senses.

I felt like an old car, about to break down at any moment.

Mom didn't seem to realize that I would ejaculate so quickly, so her deadly tongue pressed against the tip of my penis, gently teasing it with the tip, a tingling sensation shooting straight to my brain from the head of my penis.

Before I could even process what was happening, a shiver ran down my back, and a thick stream of semen suddenly shot out. My mother's tongue blocked it, and it splattered everywhere, filling her mouth. Then, I collapsed onto the bed with a sigh of relief, still reeling from the intense pleasure.

My mother licked my semen clean and then swallowed it in large gulps.

"God, this tasted so good, I loved it. But next time I suck your cock, don't ejaculate so quickly, okay? At least last a little longer so Mom can have some fun, or Mom will get angry."

My mother licked her lips, seemingly still wanting more.

"Now, let Mom give my good son a reward. Come here, let Mom breastfeed you."

As soon as she finished speaking, I reflexively darted to my mother's side. My long-standing, special fondness for my mother's breasts led to this out-of-control behavior.

My mother sat up; her breasts were snow-white and full, slightly sagging, but undeniably exuding the alluring charm of a mature woman.

I reached out and cupped my mother's breasts, lifting them to my lips so that I could easily reach the two firm, rosy nipples.

Only now did I understand what it meant when men in erotic novels mentioned the size of a woman's breasts. My mother's breasts were surprisingly substantial, and this size, this color, and the erect nipples seemed to proclaim that they belonged to a mature, perfect woman, incomparable to the so-called large breasts of teenage girls or the withered breasts of naive young girls. These were real breasts, displaying the charm of a truly mature woman.

As I suckled them with ecstasy, I truly felt like an adult.

My mother moaned, stroking my hair.

The scene of my mother using her tongue to bring me to climax was still vivid in my mind. I licked my mother's right breast, taking the firm nipple into my mouth, my tongue gently circling the areola. From the sensitive tip of my tongue, I could feel my mother's body trembling slightly, and a warm liquid seeping from her nipple. I gently bit the base of my mother's nipple with my teeth, licking the milk flowing from her breast with the tip of my tongue. It was faint and sweet, with an indescribable sense of familiarity.

I focused intently on my mother's right breast, and her moans became more rapid. Finally, she couldn't help but ask, "Is my left side bad?"

"No, Mom. I just want to make you happier. If you like, I'll switch right away."

I switched sides and repeated my efforts on her left breast.

"Oh, baby, you did so well. Your father can't compare to you at all. I wish I could have breastfed you every day when you were little, and I wish I could have breastfed you while your father was in prison. I'm so stupid, I missed so many good times. Oh, suckle Mommy's milk, baby, suckle Mommy's milk hard!"

I remembered the scene of my mother suckling my penis earlier, which made me ejaculate in a pathetic way, and I was determined to make my mother suffer like that once.

I gently bit my mother's nipple and pulled it from side to side with force, while kneading my mother's full breasts vigorously like kneading dough.

My mother gasped and moaned, "Harder...oh...oh...harder...child...more..."

After a few minutes of diligently kneading my mother's breasts, she couldn't resist any longer. She pulled my head away and pressed it against her vulva, saying, "I didn't expect you to be so eloquent, child. Now, use your little slutty mouth to fuck my cunt."

My mother fumbled around a few times before finally guiding my face to her vulva, which was already soaking wet, emanating a warm, sweet scent that was a hundred times more intense than any other stimulation.

"Lick Mommy there, child," Mommy said, afraid I wouldn't understand. "Use your tongue to lick Mommy's pussy. If it goes well, we'll both be very happy. Don't be shy. You know this is where you were born. Your father ejaculated inside, and then you came out from here. You're just going back to your old place for a visit. Hurry up and lick it, stick your tongue in and lick the honey inside clean. Don't worry about ethics or morality, let them go to hell."

With Mommy's words, I confidently licked Mommy's entire vulva. My tongue went deep into Mommy's vagina, scraping hard against the vaginal walls, swirling out the fluid that kept flowing out and swallowing it. You know, I only do this when I'm eating ice cream or seeing a particularly beautiful woman.

I paid attention to Mommy's reactions. When my tongue moved inside her vagina, Mommy would make short breaths, her body would tremble, and the secretion of fluid from the vaginal walls would increase.

I found that when I licked a small protrusion inside Mommy's vagina, her reaction would suddenly intensify, so I specifically targeted that protrusion.

My mother moaned, "Oh...yes...child...you little rascal...oh...so clever...knowing to lick Mommy's little clitoris...making Mommy so itchy...oh...oh oh...so good...oh...God...Mommy's going to cum...oh..."

I kept licking my mother's vulva, my tongue deeply inserted into her vagina.

I savored the taste of my mother's vagina, a mixture of incredible stickiness, moisture, warmth, a hint of spiciness, and a slightly salty flavor.

I felt a strange excitement, because this had always been Daddy's favorite forbidden zone, the place where my younger siblings and I were born, and I also knew that this was where my penis would enter later.

My mother's breathing became more and more rapid, her vaginal walls contracted violently, tightly wrapping around my tongue, as if trying to twist it off and shove it to the deepest point. My

mother's vaginal fluid kept flowing out, flowing onto my face, sticking to my face and the entire groin of my thighs, and then flowing onto the bed, wetting a patch of the sheets.

“Oh…baby…my dearest son…” Mom cried out, “Suck harder…good son…lick Mom’s pussy harder…oh…oh…Mom is coming…good son…you made Mom come…oh…so good…I can’t take it…oh…oh…oh oh…it’s coming…

I can’t take it…I’m coming…I’m coming…”

I pulled my tongue out and looked up at Mom.

Mom’s body was convulsing, her expression was very painful, her hands were tightly gripping my shoulders, her fingers were digging deep into my muscles.

After a while, Mom calmed down, smiled at me, and then said the words that moved me the most.

Chapter 1 Mom and Me (Part 3)

“Thank you, child, my love, that was so beautiful, Mom also made you have an orgasm, now, it’s time for my precious son to experience adult pleasure. Come on, child, fuck Mom!”

I climbed on top of Mom, face to face with Mom, my erect penis touched Mom’s pubic hair, strongly stimulating my glans.

“Mom, I know what we’re doing is wrong. We won’t call each other by our real names, we’ll act like a couple, okay?”

“No!” Mom was unexpectedly agitated.

She quickly softened her tone and said, “Child, do you know what incest is?”

“Of course, Mom,” I said. “It’s incest when members of the same family commit adultery and have sex with each other, like what we’re doing now, right, Mom?”

“Correct, son, absolutely correct. Do you know that incest is the most lewd and depraved thing? In real society, it’s absolutely forbidden, it’s a transgression, a crime, even against nature. Do you know all that?”

I laughed. “Of course, Mom. But isn’t it more fun this way?”

Mom laughed too. “Mom is glad you think so too. I don’t want to lose this wonderfully lewd feeling. I also want you to keep reminding me that we are mother and son, that we are committing incest. When we make love later, I’ll call you son, and you have to call me Mommy, not Mother or Mom, just Mommy. Children all call their mothers…” "Call me Mommy, I want you to remember making love with my dearest son."

I looked lovingly into my mother's beautiful brown eyes and said, "I love you, Mommy."

My mother happily replied, "I love you too, son. I'm so glad you haven't been with other women before. Mommy wants to be my precious son's first woman, and Mommy will teach my good son how to make love with a woman."

She reached down and grasped my penis, saying with joy, "Oh, so hard! This is Mommy's now. Thank you, son."

She guided my glans to her vaginal opening, then circled my buttocks and pushed me forward. Because my mother's vaginal opening was already wet, my penis entered my mother's body smoothly.

My mother exclaimed joyfully, "Oh, welcome back, my good son."

My mother taught me to thrust my hips back and forth so that my penis could be fully inserted and we could become one.

I felt my mother's warm, fleshy walls tightly wrapped around my penis. There seemed to be a suction deep within her vagina, drawing it in deeper. The walls undulated rhythmically—truly an experienced, well-trained cunt!

I was captivated by this unimaginable pleasure. What kind of feeling was this?

It wasn't at all the kind I'd read about in books—"tight enough to break your genitals."

You see, my mother had given birth to five children, and my father never let her go.

This was a warm, comfortable feeling, like wearing a perfectly fitting glove—not too tight, yet perfectly against my penis, feeling incredibly good.

My mother's vagina was hot and wet; this was the first woman's cunt I'd ever penetrated.

Remembering what my mother had just said, I relaxed my body, letting the lewd, incestuous feeling guide my actions. I talked to her as I penetrated her.

"Do you like it, Mommy? It's your own son fucking Mommy's cunt."

"Want to continue, Mommy?"

"Oh, this feeling is so filthy, so lewd, isn't it, Mommy?"

"Does it feel good for Mommy and her precious son to do it together?"

"..."

I lowered my head and bit my mother's nipple, pulling it forcefully from side to side, my tongue licking the center of her nipple, giving her an excruciating pleasure.

My mother's hand stroked my hair: "Oh...oh...yes...son is fucking mommy...oh...the lewd son and mommy...oh...good son...harder...keep fucking mommy...fuck mommy hard..."

I stole a glance at my mother; her eyes were tightly closed, her face flushed, her breathing heavy, and fine beads of sweat on her forehead, she looked very intoxicated.

"Son's penis is big, isn't it, mommy? Do you like son's penis?"

My mother murmured unconsciously: "Oh...oh...yes...oh...yes...so big...good penis...so hard...oh...my precious son has a big penis...oh...oh oh...it feels so good to mommy...faster...harder...oh..."

I knew my mother's reaction to me biting her nipple, so I did another experiment.

I reached down to my mother's genitals, teasing her labia, forcefully twisting and pulling them up and down, back and forth, left and right. My penis thrust in and out faster, each stroke causing her vaginal muscles to roll in and out, bringing with it a gush of vaginal fluid—a truly lewd scene.

"Oh...oh!" my mother screamed, "No...don't...oh...oh oh...have mercy on Mommy...oh...it's too beautiful...oh oh...I can't take it anymore...son...Mommy can't take it anymore...faster...faster...Mommy's coming...faster...faster...oh...oh oh...oh oh oh...Mommy's going to cum...ah..."

Although my mother had already come once from my licking, her vaginal fluids began to flow profusely, running down my penis onto my lower abdomen, thighs, and hands, completely soaking the sheets.

With each powerful collision of our bodies, her vaginal fluids were splashed everywhere, covering my entire body.

My mother's vaginal walls tightened more and more, gripping my penis tightly, making each thrust incredibly difficult.

At the same time, my mother's wanton moans assaulted my senses. Her throbbing buttocks swayed wildly from side to side, as if trying to rip my penis off at the root. This feeling was far better than when my mother had sucked me out with her mouth earlier, and that time it was just my own orgasm; this time, I was going to ejaculate with my mother!

My consciousness blurred, all my senses focused on the point where my mother and I were joined, feeling the rhythmic pulsation there, my body trembling, as if something was constantly radiating out, making me feel completely comfortable.

This radiating sensation lasted for a long time; I couldn't remember ever ejaculating so much in my life.

I separated from my mother, lying wearily beside her, my consciousness not yet fully returning to my body, everything around me feeling so distant, so blurry.

In my blur, I seemed to hear her say, "Oh, my son is so good, he ejaculated inside me, if only we could have a child."

I suddenly snapped back to reality. Damn it! I suddenly remembered my cousin telling me that sex between men and women could lead to pregnancy, and I had not only slept with my mother, but also ejaculated inside her.

I panicked. I wasn't her father, and even if I wanted to, my brothers and sisters would never allow it. How could I explain this to my father? It was my father's responsibility to have my mother give birth.

"Oh God, Mom. What if you get pregnant? What will we do down there? How long will it take for my baby to come out? What should I do?"

I was genuinely anxious; after all, I was just a child, and when faced with something I couldn't control, I could only listen to my mother.

My mother laughed: "You know this can lead to pregnancy? I thought you wanted me to give you a son! Isn't this good? It's fun to have a son who calls you 'brother,' and besides, I want to give my precious son a big, healthy boy."

I was on the verge of tears.

Seeing my panic, Mom teased me for a bit before saying, "Baby, don't worry, it's not that easy to get pregnant. Mom's safe period is still a week long. Even during the unsafe period, if Mom wanted to get pregnant every time we did it, I'd be exhausted. Look at how long it's been since your father and I had you five!"

Oh, that's how it is. I felt relieved.

Mom continued to assure me, allaying my concerns: "Listen, child. I'm your mother. Even if I were promiscuous, I wouldn't hurt my own son. Mom just wants you to make love with me, and I hope you like it. Don't worry about getting pregnant; that's Mom's business, you don't need to worry about it."

She then gave me a long, slow, gentle, and deep kiss.

"Okay, now, I want you to try something new. You only licked Mom's vulva before, let's try something new this time. Come on, child, lick Mom again."

I kept licking Mom, and Mom licked my penis. Every time before and after having sex with Mom, I would carefully lick her vulva until she was satisfied.

But I really liked it that day; the number "69" became my lucky number.

When my mother held my penis between her full, soft breasts, I felt like I was in heaven. It was the most amazing experience I had ever had since I was two years old. I realized that breasts could not only be used for breastfeeding, but also for some of the functions of a vagina. It was truly an eye-opener.

It seemed that today was the happiest day of my life.

We intertwined several more times until we were both exhausted and could not continue. However, even if we wanted to continue, it was impossible. Looking at the time, the other children would be coming home from school soon.

The return of the others was indeed a problem. Although I could have sex with my mother until my father came home, it would be a big problem if my younger sister and brother found out.

My mother and I decided to only have sex twice a day from now on, once in the afternoon before the others came home from school, and once at night when everyone else was asleep. But sometimes we couldn't resist, so we would sneak into the warehouse to satisfy our cravings first, and then drive to the cedar forest outside the city, park, and have sex in the back seat of the car.

Two months after Dad left, our happiest time arrived, an opportunity created by Mom. Since it was summer vacation, Mom arranged for the other children to either visit relatives or go camping. Of course, I was "forced" to stay home with Mom. This gave us a whole week to ourselves, and I felt like a married man enjoying the sweetness of life with my beloved wife.

I openly slept on Mom's big bed, and we made love non-stop whenever we wanted. To please me, Mom didn't wear a single piece of clothing for a whole week. Even after we finished, when her breasts were so sore from my sucking and biting, I still derived immense satisfaction from seeing her naked body. Especially the sight of her snow-white, full breasts covered in my saliva and bite marks, and my semen flowing from her plump vulva, excited me the most.

Indeed, watching my semen slowly flow from my mother's vulva was incredibly satisfying. But as my mother and I made love more and more frequently, one thing kept bothering me, increasing my mental stress: could my mother get pregnant because of our sex life?

I decided to have a serious talk with her about it, because even a kid my age knows very well the consequences of consanguineous pregnancy.

After one particularly passionate time with my mother, I brought up this troubling question.

"This is truly the greatest moment of my life, Mom," I said. "I hope it lasts a long time. I can't imagine what I'll do when I can no longer have sex with you."

"Oh, me too, honey. I hope we can stay like this forever. Maybe we can find a way to continue without anyone finding out."

I kissed my mother deeply and said, "That would be crazy, Mom! But if you get pregnant, it'll be troublesome, even though we've been very careful."

"What are you talking about? Do you want to use a condom?" My mother smiled and lowered her voice. "Oh, but it is indeed a troublesome matter. I almost completely forgot about it until you mentioned it, but it's too late. My safe period ended three days ago. Oh well, it's already like this, there's no escaping it. I think we won't have to worry for the next three weeks until nine months later."

Then she laughed again, "Don't worry, child. The chance of a woman getting pregnant is extremely slim. I don't believe you'll be so lucky. If you are, you'll be a father."

To be honest, for the next ten days, I was constantly on edge, trying to avoid ejaculating directly into my mother's vagina. I felt that my mother had the same reaction as me.

Sigh, marriage and childbirth are natural, but incest involving mother and son is so troubling.

On the eleventh day, Mom said, "Okay, honey, let's rest for a while. My period has started today."

I could hear the helplessness and longing in her voice.

For the next month, we were both exhausted by this, and our schedules were constantly messed up.

Sometimes Mom would say, "Today is a safe period," then immediately change her mind, "Oh, I forgot what day it is. Worrying won't help."

Good heavens, Mom was driving me crazy! It seemed even she didn't understand her own safe period.

While we were enjoying our summer "honeymoon," we received a call from Dad. He was coming home! His boss had granted him leave, and he could come home this weekend.

During this last week, Mom and I completely forgot about the anxiety of the past month. Pregnancy, childbirth—we threw all that to the back of our minds, focusing only on making love day and night.

I became bolder than ever, not only ejaculating all over Mom's body but also preferring to ejaculate deep into her uterus, regardless of safe periods.

“Mom, we’ve done everything in these past three months, but there’s still one thing we haven’t done.”

“What are you talking about, child? Do you really want a baby?” Mom looked very longing and eager.

“No, Mom, it’s not like that. I mean, if you have a baby within six or nine months after Dad left, people will be suspicious.”

My fingers slid over her buttocks, stopping at her anus, and I said, “I mean, I’ve been with your vagina, breasts, and mouth, but this is the only place I haven’t been with. Mom, let me do it.”

“Oh…oh! Child.” Mom exclaimed in surprise, “No one has ever done this to me before, not even your father.”

“Great!” I said happily, “You’ve taken my virginity, so at least I have the right to explore another virgin territory, Mom, and besides, Mom wants to do it too, right?”

The next day, after the other children went to school, I swaggered into Mom’s bedroom. Mom took out a soft tube to make it easier for me to enter her anus. I put the tube on my erect penis, inserted the other end into Mom’s anus, knelt down, aligned the head of my penis with Mom’s anus, and pushed forward forcefully.

My mother's body was tense, her anus tightly contracted, making it difficult for my penis to move even an inch.

I knew from books that if my mother was happy, her anal sphincter would relax, making penetration much easier. But I didn't want that; I wanted to force my way in, and my mother seemed to want that too.

"Oh, Mom, I'm going in. I'm going to force it in, whether you like it or not! If you don't, I'll be even happier! Let your son deflower your mother's ass, you filthy bitch, you rotten slut, watch me fuck you to death."

This was the first time in my life I had spoken to my mother so rudely, but she seemed quite intoxicated.

“Oh…yes…good…son…good son…put it in Mommy’s ass…Mommy wants you to put it in…oh…oh…fuck Mommy’s ass hard…oh…fuck…fuck hard…

fuck hard…fuck until Mommy can’t sit up anymore…oh…it hurts so much…Mommy likes it so much…the more it hurts Mommy, the better…”

My penis was deeply inserted into Mommy’s anus. Mommy’s anus contracted very tightly, the sphincter muscles were like pliers, as if they wanted to clamp my penis off, but it made me feel a strange pleasure when my penis went in and out.

Mommy looked like she was in a lot of pain, but her buttocks were desperately moving towards me, which gave me a sadistic pleasure.

Soon Mommy’s thighs began to tremble violently, making my penis numb, and a hot stream couldn’t help but gush out, hitting deep into Mommy’s anus.

Mommy’s body convulsed extremely, her legs trembled, and hot liquid flowed down her thighs.

That day, I had sex with my mother's anus twice. Finally, the pain became so bad she couldn't sit up, and I stopped.

On the last night before my father returned, I went to my mother's room to spend our last night together.

She wasn't asleep, waiting for me, but she looked very melancholy: "Now you and your father have something in common, child."

When I thought about the meaning behind those words, my heart almost stopped.

"It's over between us."

Suddenly, I felt I had nothing left to cherish in this family. Although my mother's tone implied a desire to rekindle our past, my father was coming back tomorrow, and my mother would be back in his arms. I couldn't face that fact.

Believe it or not, I'm happy my father is coming home, even if it means I'll lose my mother. I love my father very much; he's been my idol since I was little, and I've tried my best to imitate everything he does, including having sex with my mother. I respect him and don't want to hurt him, and I think my mother feels the same way.

Later, I made up my mind that one day I would leave home. I knew I couldn't build a family independently with my mother, because she was my mother, and I wanted a wife to spend my life with, to bear me a legal child. I knew very well that my mother wasn't that kind of woman.

Oh, Mom, my dearest mother, she can only be a dream I can never reach.

[last edited by dylancs on 2005-6-21 at 21:07]

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/208448.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=208448&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Ai Haibara - The Days of Imprisonment

Next Page : My beautiful, seductive wife