Admiring Mom

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 12:36:02

This is the story of my beautiful and sensual mother, a story of love and sacrifice.

I was born in the 1970s in a small town in southern China, a picturesque place. According to the older generation, my family migrated here from the Central Plains during the Southern Song Dynasty to escape war.

Because the surrounding area was inhabited by ethnic minorities, after centuries of development, although their main customs remained Han Chinese, they also adopted many customs of the original inhabitants. For example, newlyweds would go to a temple to worship a thick wooden stake painted in the shape of a tiger's head to pray for peace and children (I later learned from books that this was simply a remnant of primitive phallus worship), and husbands would give their new wives a silver necklace, and so on…

My mother's name was Fang Min. She lost the joys of girlhood at a very young age, learning to conceive and give birth. When my mother was fifteen, my father seduced her at a bonfire party, taking her virginity, and thus I was born. On their wedding night, my younger sister was also born.

My father worked in the mines and was quite chauvinistic (most men in our hometown were like that). After he rose to the position of a minor foreman, he developed a drinking problem, often drinking until he was unconscious, requiring my mother, me, and the rest of the family to help him to bed. However, he never beat or scolded anyone in the family when he was drunk. Therefore, considering other factors, you could say he was actually quite good to my mother (at least compared to other families in town), and it was clear that my mother loved my father, or perhaps it was "a form of respect."

However, I often sensed that my mother seemed a little melancholic. Of course, at that time, I didn't quite understand what it was. Our family's circumstances were considered upper-middle class compared to other families; my mother never had to work to support the family.

Whenever I had the chance, I would help my mother with chores. My father was always at the mines, which naturally brought my mother and me closer. She often came to me for help when she had problems; and I, in turn, often tried to cheer her up.

I could tell Mom liked having me around; it eased the boredom of housework a little.

Dad always left early and came home late, almost always drunk. I felt romance had long since vanished from their marriage. Most of the time, he was either busy with chores, in meetings, or drinking. Mom was actually quite lonely under these circumstances. However, I believe Dad still loved Mom. They would sometimes joke around or tease each other, but the romance they had when they first got married was very rare… practically nonexistent.

After graduating high school (few of us went to university back then), I started working and also took a job driving a taxi, hoping to earn extra money to help support the family. But as you can imagine, this meant I didn't have much time to date or engage in the social activities that most young men enjoy.

My life wasn't particularly special; sometimes it was good, sometimes it wasn't, just like any other ordinary person.

At night, after everyone else in the family had gone to bed, my mother and I would often sit together at the kitchen table and chat. I knew she loved having me with her… Over time, we became very close. She would even hug me and whisper that my presence was like sunshine in her life.

I was a precocious child, knowing many things that should have been vague concepts at my age. When I turned sixteen, I began to see my mother with a completely new perspective. I realized she was, in fact, a woman, and a very beautiful one at that.

My mother had very black, thick, and long hair. When she let it down, the flowing black hair cascaded down to her waist. She had a great figure, a slender, southern-style figure, and her eyes were still bright and expressive.

We talked about almost everything. I told my mother about my favorite celebrities, and she told me about her life before she got married. She still longed for those carefree days, but my mother told me she didn't regret her marriage because it gave her the most important things in her life: her husband and children.

By then, I had realized that my mother, with her traditional virtues and beauty, was a woman who attracted me greatly. So I began to consciously seek her embraces and compliment her, saying she was still a very beautiful woman. These words usually made her blush, but she would still accept them with a smile.

Later, every day when I came home, I would bring her some flowers or desserts. On Sundays, I would ask her to go to the movies with me.

In the theater, I would intentionally or unintentionally lean against her or hold her soft hand, and then, when she wasn't looking, quickly put my arm around her shoulder. At this time, my mother would naturally lean back and rest her head on my shoulder.

I knew that my mother looked forward to the days when I took her to the movies, because she always picked out the films for us in advance.

After the movie, I liked to sit with my mother in a small park nearby for a while. There, we could see the night view of the whole town and say some playful and affectionate things to each other.

One day, my mother said to me, "Son, shouldn't you be thinking about dating? You're almost seventeen."

Without considering the consequences, I blurted out, "Mom, I don't want to get married. I want to be with you forever."

Hearing her son's bold confession, my mother was clearly taken aback, turning to stare at me in disbelief. After a moment, her dazed gaze silently shifted into the distance.

"Mom, did I make you worry?"

My mother thought for a long time before slowly saying, "I think we should go back."

Seeing my mother's reaction, I began to curse the words I had just blurted out. But then I thought, well, it can't be ignored anyway; what's done is done, so why not take it a step further?

"Mom, if what I said embarrassed you, I'm so sorry. But you know, your son isn't stupid, and he's more mature than his age suggests. I love you very much, and I'd do anything for your happiness, Mom. Please don't hate me."

Mom remained silent for a long time, then looked at me with sadness and said, "Son, it's my fault. I shouldn't have let this continue. It's all because I was too lonely, so I sought your company, which led you astray."

"Mom, I didn't want this to happen either. But since it has, I'm still very happy to have fallen in love with a woman like you."

"No! No way! You're my own son!" Mom retorted. "How can such a thing happen between a mother and son? Besides, I'm a married woman."

"Mom, I can't worry about anything else. I've already taken the risk. It's already happened, and I don't want to lie, much less take back my love for you. Mom, for your own sake, can't you at least consider my... request?"

Mom was silent for a long time, then two clear tears silently slid down her jade-like face. Gazing at my weeping mother, I felt guilty. I pulled her to my chest and hugged her tightly. At that moment, Mom whispered, "Son, we should go home."

After this incident, the relationship between my mother and me became much colder. Despite my repeated pleas, Mom no longer agreed to go to the movies with me. Instead, she told me I should go with a girl about my age.

I could see that Mom was suffering just as much as I was. As the days passed, Mom became depressed and taciturn. When Dad noticed the change in Mom and asked her why she wouldn't go to the movies with me, Mom just shook her head and asked in return why Dad wouldn't take her out.

Dad said, "You know I'm very busy. Sunday is my only day off, so it's better for me to stay home and rest."

Of course, he drank as usual that day. Then, Mom raised her voice, as if saying something to him, and finally slammed the door and left the room.

When my tongue moved to her most sensitive clitoris, Mom couldn't help but cry out. Then, I inserted a finger into her vagina and began to thrust, while still continuously sucking and kissing her genitals.

The mature, beautiful middle-aged woman's breathing became increasingly rapid. I kept stimulating her clitoris, and Mom's genitals became overflowing with fluid, soaking my finger in the slippery nectar.

Finally, with an uncontrollable, sharp cry, Mom arched her snow-white body, and then her whole body began to spasm. I seemed not to hear, continuing to stimulate her, joyfully knowing that I had brought my mother to orgasm.

After a while, Mom, panting, her firm breasts rubbed against my chest, and with a shy blush, she whispered, "Son, I've never been so happy in my life."

"Mom, you know what? You're so beautiful and sexy. Making love with you has been my dream for so long."

"Son, tell me honestly, do you really think Mom is beautiful?"

"Of course, more beautiful than any movie star."

With tears in her eyes, Mom gently hugged my neck, kissed my lips, and shyly reached down, grasping my penis, slowly stroking it, guiding my penis to her inner thighs, rubbing it up and down against her wet vulva.

"Mom!" I whispered, "I love you."

As if silently expressing her agreement, Mom spread her legs wide, placing my penis at the entrance of her vagina. I gazed into the depths of her eyes, and Mom pushed me inside her.

"Mmm! Son..."

For a boy my age, my penis was large and thick, and my mother's vagina, under my thrusts, bloomed like a flower petal, ready to embrace my burning hot shaft.

My mother arched her back, allowing my penis to reach its full depth. Despite having given birth to two children, my mother's vagina was still very tight, the inner muscles gripping my penis like a pair of clamps.

I pulled out, then slid back in, and began thrusting wildly. My mother swayed her hips and waist with the same passionate rhythm, matching my thrusts, and my penis was quickly soaked with love juice.

My mother and I were like machines born for lovemaking, perfectly coordinated. Each time I thrust in, my mother arched her back to meet me, her full breasts swaying with sexy curves. Each time, I felt the head of my penis pressing against her cervix, and my mother began to breathe more and more rapidly.

We went on like this for about fifteen minutes. Then, Mom's body stiffened again, and she gripped my buttocks with her hands, her fingers digging in tightly, her warm, tender flesh gripping my penis. I felt a tightness in my groin; for the first time in my life, I ejaculated inside Mom. One ejaculation after another, a considerable amount, and soon I felt the semen flowing back into my penis.

And so, Mom and I remained intertwined, enjoying the afterglow of our orgasm.

After a while, my penis hardened again inside Mom's vagina, and I gently thrust in and out. This time, because it was gentler, we lasted a long time, finally reaching orgasm together again.

The long night felt far too short for us, mother and son. After our last intimate moment, Mom whispered shyly in my ear, "Son, you're so big! Your father and I have never experienced anything like this. Ah! I've almost forgotten when I last felt this happy."

Mom's words filled me with a sense of pride as a man. My first time with my mother was more satisfying for her than all her previous marriages with my father.

"Mom, it's probably because I love you so much!"

"Xiaohao, my dear son, this is the best orgasm I've ever had." My mother confessed to me again, kissed me goodbye, and said, "My good son, Mom should go back now. I think we don't want anyone to suspect anything!"

My mother and I kissed for a while longer, said some sweet words, and she stood up and wiped herself clean.

"Mom, can you leave this panty with me?" I asked softly.

My mother was silent for a moment, then asked me with a little unease, "As a memento of our first time?"

I nodded quickly.

"I promise you, but you have to keep it safe." So, my mother put on her clothes, left her panty with me, and quietly left my room.

That night, my mother and I made love four times. Finally, I remember pressing my mother's panty to my face and falling asleep. Even in my dream, all I could hear was my mother's sweet, tearful moans.

But when dawn broke the next day, everything from the previous night seemed to vanish like mist. When the family sat around the table for breakfast, Mom was unusually cold, not only refusing to speak to me but also avoiding eye contact.

I felt like I was in an icebox, yet I still refused to give up. So, while Dad and my sister left for work and school respectively, I pretended to be unwell and stayed in my room, playing with the white underwear stained with Mom's honey-like fluid, quietly waiting.

Not long after, the door opened, and Mom walked in, just as I had hoped. Seeing the panties in my hand, Mom's face immediately flushed red with shame, and she said in a trembling voice, "Son, we can't repeat the mistakes of last night."

I was about to argue when Mom gestured for me to be quiet. "Last night was indeed very enjoyable, and Mom will always remember everything we had, but Mom is, after all, a married woman. Son, we can't make the same mistake again."

"Mom," I protested loudly, pulling her into my arms. "I love you! You know you love me too. Give your son a chance!"

I tried to kiss her, but Mom turned her head away, broke free from my embrace, and shook her head. "No, son." Mom's eyes were filled with tears as she whispered, "Just because you are my son."

"Mom!" Watching her about to leave my room, I shouted, "I won't stop loving you, and I will continue to pursue you."

Tears streamed down Mom's face, but she still left me. From then on, our relationship cooled down. It was clear that Mom's decision was painful for her, but her resolve remained unwavering.

Time flew by, and months of effort yielded nothing. I almost gave up hope of repairing our relationship. My mother busied herself finding me a match, contacting everyone she could think of to ask if they knew any good girls. She even consulted random books to see if our horoscopes were compatible; if so, she would arrange for us to meet.

I was in immense pain because the only woman I loved, my mother, was cruelly pushing me away. In the end, I chose a girl because, in my eyes, she resembled my mother somewhat, and the engagement date was set.

Then, something strange happened. My mother's attitude towards me changed; she acted like a jealous woman, scolding me for even the smallest mistakes.

I jokingly asked her, "Are you unwilling to give your son away?" My mother wouldn't admit it, but when I pointed out her recent change and said it was just a lover's jealousy, she fell silent, went into her room, and didn't come out all night.

The next day, when it was just the two of us at home, Mom said, "Son, how about we go see a movie again on Sunday?"

It was a little strange, but I was still very happy, thinking Mom was probably just trying to comfort me. I nodded and said, "Mom, that's great!"

I don't know how I got through the next few days, constantly looking forward to Sunday. When the long-awaited day finally arrived, Mom had dressed up carefully for our outing. I could hardly believe that the beautiful woman sitting next to me was my mother.

After the movie, we went back to our private spot. I pulled my mother into my arms again, and she didn't resist. We began to kiss passionately.

My hands roamed over her body, and from her tightly clenched legs, I could tell she was aroused. We were intimate for about an hour before returning home. Just like last time, my father and sister were asleep.

"Wait for me in your room. I'm going to check on your father," my mother whispered.

When she entered the room, I had already undressed and was lying on the bed. My mother turned and locked the door, then walked towards me. Mother and son began a long-awaited passionate kiss.

I couldn't wait any longer. I quickly undressed my mother, pinned her down, and kissed every inch of her delicate skin. I held her round buttocks and kissed her genitals wildly, bringing her to orgasm. Then, I climbed on top of my mother, letting her hold my rock-hard penis, and guided it to her entrance. With a thrust, it easily entered her already wet vagina.

I gripped my mother's round buttocks and thrust into her forcefully. With each penetration, she would arch her head back and moan with abandon.

We rolled around on the bed, sometimes my mother on top, sometimes me on top, and so on for a long time until I finally ejaculated inside my mother's warm vulva.

This time, my mother also reached orgasm, and I had never seen her with such a satisfied smile.

"Son, you're amazing."

"Mom, are you still going to force me to get married?" I asked her with a hint of unease.

"Ah, son, Mom loves you. As your wedding date gets closer, Mom can't take it anymore, it's like I'm going crazy. I know I'm just jealous. Mom loves you more than anything in this world."

"Like a lover, right?" I asked excitedly.

"Yes, not just a mother's love for her son, but a lover's love. Mom can't let you leave my side again, not even for a second," my mother said softly.

"Do you love me more than you love Daddy?" I asked, embracing my mother again, kneading her round, jade-like breasts, letting her full mounds gradually swell, then kissing her swollen nipples.

In joy, my mother murmured, "Ah, son, I respect your father, my husband, but I don't love him. After being with you, I learned what love is. My dear son, I want to be your wife. I feel so happy when I'm in your arms."

Hearing these words from my dear mother's lips, I was shocked.

"Mom, you made me the happiest man in the world. I don't want to share your love with anyone else, not even Daddy. You are mine. I want to possess your body and soul. I want you to always lie in my arms like this. I want to be one with you, Mom, forever."

My mother hugged my back tightly, rolled over, adjusted her position, and straddled my waist until my penis was fully buried in her love nest. Then she kissed me passionately, thrusting her plump white buttocks up and down.

"Son, this is wonderful, but our union must be a secret between just the two of us. Your father and your sister can't know, otherwise we can't be together."

"Of course, I know."

Holding my mother's mature buttocks, I thrust into her vigorously, slowly at first, then gradually increasing the speed. Suddenly, my mother's tongue intertwined with mine like a madwoman. Then, in her climax, my mother's whole body trembled violently, letting out a silent scream.

I knew my mother had reached her climax, so I quickly rolled over and pinned her beneath me, thrusting forcefully. Her beautiful, full body was penetrated by my thrusts, each one making my mother tremble, her breasts and buttocks swaying. When waves of pleasure coursed through her body, my mother finally cried out, and at the same time, my penis plunged into her uterus, ejaculating a large amount of my semen inside, filling her womb, the source of our incestuous relationship, with my seed of love.

After the fervor subsided, we embraced, my mother's genitals still connected to mine. She pushed me down onto the bed and began kissing my entire body. When she reached between my legs, she took my penis into her mouth and began oral sex. I finally couldn't hold back and ejaculated again. Without disgust, this time my mother, with a charming smile, swallowed all of her son's semen, mouthful by mouthful.

The next day, my mother and I went to a jewelry store to order a silver necklace for our wedding. No one knew that I was going to marry my dear mother. I also bought a wedding dress for my mother, and of course, one for myself.

A week later, my mother chose an auspicious day, and in the dead of night, we secretly went to the town temple. My mother wore her bright red wedding dress with gold trim, looking absolutely stunning; and I wore my new clothes.

My bride lowered her head shyly before me. I took the necklace my father had given her from her snow-white neck and then put the one I had made for her on her head, marking this moment when my mother was my wife.

After the ceremony, we prayed for our happiness before that strange wooden tiger. After a festive feast, we made love passionately there.

"Son, every time I'm with you, it feels like my first time. You give me so much happiness, but tonight is our special first night. Tonight, I am not only your mother, but also your wife."

"Mom, now that you are my wife, can I call you Amin from now on?"

My mother blushed slightly and nodded shyly. Then I said to her, "Amin, tonight is a special night. Tonight is your first time, and I want you to give me a little baby."

My mother buried her head in my arms and said, "Son, in our customs, a woman's primary responsibility as a good wife is to bear a child for her husband. I'm happy to bear children for you, and besides, your wife is pregnant tonight!"

That night, my mother and I made love repeatedly. Perhaps the wooden tiger really worked wonders; I ejaculated five times inside my mother's womb, hoping she would conceive my child soon. Finally, I put on my clothes, held my naked mother in my arms, and took her to a nearby stream to wash. When we

reached the riverbank, I found a secluded spot, laid my mother down, and spread out her bright red phoenix-patterned dress. The moonlight was beautiful that night; my mother's skin was very white, even shimmering with a soft, pearly luster under the moonlight, clearly visible. Although my mother and I had been intimate many times, this was the first time I had truly appreciated the beauty of my mother… this woman who had become my wife.

My mother shyly closed her eyes, letting me help her up. Her breasts weren't large or perky, but rather gracefully curved across her chest. I felt incredibly lucky to have such a woman as my mother.

I lifted her into the water and had her stand in it, scooping water to wash her lower body. Afterward, I let her wash herself while I swam around her for a while. Gradually, watching her graceful figure, I became excited again, and quietly swam behind her. The water was just enough to reach the middle of her thighs. I grabbed her slender waist, and my mother gasped, then realized it was me and quieted down, letting me caress her two snow-white buttocks.

After playing for a while, I cupped her rounded mounds with both hands and pulled them apart. My mother grabbed my hands, trying to stop me, but I grabbed her hands and placed them on her buttocks, kneading them with all four palms.

After a while, I let go of her hand, letting her spread her buttocks herself to admire her mother's anus. Her anus was tightly closed, like a chrysanthemum bud. I reached out to touch it, and my mother tensed up. I poked it a few times, but the little chrysanthemum remained tightly closed.

Standing up, I had my mother straddle my waist and walk into deeper water until the water submerged her pink buttocks. I held her forearms, making her lean back, and my penis slid in. I began to thrust again. Because of the buoyancy of the water, this position brought my mother to orgasm. By the time we got home, it was already four in the morning.

From then on, whenever we could find an opportunity, we would be together. It was always Mom who initiated it; she was currently at the peak of her sexual desire, always experiencing intense urges. Every time I took off her panties, her genitals were already soaking wet. Mom told me that just thinking about me made her very wet; no one had ever excited her like this before.

Sometimes, we were like madmen; as soon as the desire arose, we would immediately find a place to have sex.

Once, when everyone else was still home, I saw Mom go into the bathroom and quietly followed her. Mom hadn't locked the door. When she opened it, she was urinating when she saw me. Ignoring her protests, I picked her up, not even bothering to dry her with toilet paper, and pressed her against the edge of the bathtub, her snow-white, round buttocks raised high, and I fucked her from behind.

"Son, someone might come in," Mom whispered, but I ignored her and continued until we both reached orgasm.

When I left, I pulled up Mom's panties, preventing her from wiping herself. Although our affair went undetected, for the rest of the day, just seeing my mother constantly pressing her lower abdomen and frowning in embarrassment aroused me, knowing that my semen was flowing from her vagina and soaking her underwear.

One night, I woke up very aroused, wanting my mother intensely, so I quietly went into the master bedroom. My mother was lying next to my father, the thin blanket slipping off her body, revealing her extremely sexy figure. I gently shook her awake, signaling her to be quiet, and whispered that I wanted her, then went back to my own room.

My mother protested, but I kissed her, stripped her naked, and began to give her oral sex. Soon, my mother was wet, and I climbed on top of her, penetrating her love nest and starting to have sex with her.

Later, when she left me, she told me, "Son, if you want me in the future, you can come to my room and wake me up, just like tonight, and I'll come to you."

I was excited for a moment, but the next night, my mother came into my room with a smile on her face, carrying her bedding, and said to me, "I told your father that he gets drunk every night, and I can't stand the smell, so I'm sleeping in your room. Your father agreed, so from now on, I'm yours every night."

I grabbed her and showered her with countless kisses. Mom, from now on we can be like a real couple.

For the next two years, my mother and I were very careful, taking advantage of every safe opportunity to indulge in our incestuous love. Sometimes, we would simply spend two days away from home, in some cave or dense forest, making love like wild animals.

My father never suspected our frequent outings, only thinking that I was a dutiful son. In fact, I think he must have been very happy; with his nagging wife and son gone, he could get drunk without worry.

Two years later, my younger sister got pregnant by a man from another province and married him. Meanwhile, I had a great opportunity: to go to Shanghai to learn business, with the possibility of going abroad if I did well.

Being so far from home, I once thought my relationship with my mother was over. However, the bond between mother and son was strong. My mother, who had never left her hometown in the southwest, learned to take the train and travel thousands of miles to Shanghai to see me and help me with my life.

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, but when news came from our hometown that my father had died of alcohol poisoning, found dead after running headfirst into a tiger statue, my mother and I felt lost and bewildered. But this also meant we were no longer bound by any ties.

My mother officially moved in with me, and we lived together like newlyweds, inseparable. I was also very happy. Having been exposed to the vibrant atmosphere of the big city, she became bolder in her sexuality, readily accepting my passionate kisses, caresses, and even my rough approach of lifting her skirt and grabbing her buttocks for sex anytime, anywhere. We had sex at least twice a day.

Three weeks into our cohabitation, my mother shyly told me that her period hadn't come. Then came the anxious wait. When she told me again that she was pregnant, we were both incredibly excited.

In the remaining days, watching my mother move around with my child inside her, her face radiating the unique happiness of a pregnant woman, especially now that she was carrying her own son's child, I felt extremely proud.

Nine months later, we had a lovely eldest daughter. This was our new family member; the family we had before seemed like another world to us.

With our first success, my mother's face beamed with joy, hoping to have more children for me. After my eldest son was born, my company sent me abroad. With the money I'd saved over the years, I applied for foreign citizenship, allowing my family to settle abroad.

Severing all ties with the past, my mother and I became a real couple, and no one doubted our identity. While I was at work during the day, my mother stayed home to care for our two bright and adorable children; and every night, when the children fell asleep in their crib, it was our happy time together.

My mother remained as gentle, sensitive, and understanding as ever. Whenever I removed her underwear, her snow-white buttocks were already stained with a large patch of honey-like fluid, awaiting the affection of her beloved son.

After showering and drying each other, we would return to the bedroom, again and again, composing those endlessly tender words of love.

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