Mother complex 13-38 years old 1-7

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 13:20:53

I

love my mother, but I don't know how many people have truly experienced this, how many are just curious, and how
many are just seeking thrills. How should I define myself? I can't give myself an answer.

Why did I say it started at age 13? That was a turning point. Before that, although I often saw my mother at home wearing
only underwear, and although her large breasts and buttocks often made me unbearably aroused, I always struggled.

Time and again, I heard her soft moans and whispered "be gentle" beside the bed, and I resisted thinking about it, even
using my teacher as a fantasy object to replace her. I fought like that.

Until the morning I turned 13, I went for my morning exercise. I usually come back in half an hour, but unfortunately it rained that day, so I
came back earlier.

As soon as I entered the outer room, I found the inner room, our shared room, tightly closed. Without thinking much of it, I pushed the door open and
went in. The door wasn't locked. On the kang (heated brick
bed The sounds of splashing water, my mother's moans, and my father

's rising and falling hips made me dizzy. When they found me, my father gave an embarrassed smile, while my mother turned her face to one side, her thigh
still raised. I was also embarrassed, and I quickly left the room.

I waited outside for a while before the door opened. My mother, wearing many more layers than usual, crawled into the kitchen, still
flushed . I went into the room. My father and I were both very embarrassed and didn't say anything.

Later, we acted as if nothing had happened and resumed our usual routine. But I can't stop
thinking about that scene; even today, the details of that day are still vivid in my memory.

From then on, when I masturbated, I could only ejaculate by fantasizing about my mom. It was also what I most wanted to do.
Although I later added a few other fantasies, I still ultimately ejaculated because of her.

This incident still lingers even after so long. From wanting to have sex with her to falling in love with her, to lusting after her, to cheating on her, to
family sex , and even mild homosexuality, I feel that day was a watershed moment

. I forgot to introduce my mom earlier, sorry! My mom was 37 years old at the time, 160cm tall,

102kg　, and a housewife. At that time, both she and my dad were at an age with extremely high sex drives. I don't know if they had sex at home when I was in school, but they always had sex every night. Before that incident, it was always in the middle of the night or in the morning. After that incident, they seemed to care less. They would turn off the lights and start touching each other, sometimes kissing, sometimes kissing breasts. You have to understand, they were only half a meter away from me, close enough to hear my mom's soft breathing, not to mention the sounds of them taking off their clothes, having sex, and making squelching noises. It's strange, really. Normally, this should have been avoided. I don't know what they were thinking back then . Every day at school, I was a little absent-minded. Watching my homeroom teacher's butt wiggle around would make me think about what her husband would do to her that night, and I'd get hard. When I got home, it was pure torture, the agony of when my parents would undress, when they would go to bed, when they would turn off the lights, and when they would have sex. Actually, as soon as I got home, even if my mom was wearing cotton pants, all I could think about was her naked body and her slutty appearance. Gradually, my mom went from being a pure mother to a woman who was both a mother and a woman. And when I got into bed, she would start taking off her clothes, one by one, until finally she took off her bra, took off her undershirt, leaving only her underwear, and turned naked in front of me into bed. And I would take off my underwear and start stroking my hard thing. She had barely gotten into bed when I could hear the sound of my dad kicking down her underwear. Every time I heard that sound , my heart would skip a beat. Then my dad would pin her down and kiss her passionately, and then he'd start kneading her breasts. Now I even suspect that my dad kneaded my mom's big breasts to get them. I figured everything out from the sounds because it was dark in the room, and I couldn't see anything. Next, I heard my dad say to spread her legs, and my mom would turn her head to one side, sometimes towards me, sometimes towards that side. Then my mom would say "be gentle," and she would keep saying it in that kind of breathing sound, incredibly seductive!!! I could vaguely hear the sounds of thrusting and friction below, which soon turned into the sounds of water, slapping sounds, and my mom's "be gentle " turned into moans. Those panting breaths made me speed up my stroking. After a while, I heard a few loud thrusts, and my mom cried out, then it became quiet again. My dad got off, and soon I could hear . This is what I look forward to every night. After their loud snoring, I'll masturbate a few times, ejaculate on my blanket, and fall into a deep sleep… I 've read the　 preceding text many times, and each time I finish, my blood boils—it's so exciting! Think about which parts were the most exciting for me: 1. Taking off my clothes before bed; I always guess which underwear I be wearing. 2. The sound of my underwear being kicked off in bed. 3. The rubbing sound when they're still relatively dry , and my mom's gentle touch. Because I've never seen what their genitals look like, I can't imagine why she would ask me to be gentle. After more than a month of listening to them every night, one night after turning off the lights, I noticed the room was still brightly lit. It turned out there was a large light hanging on the chimney of the boiler room across the street, illuminating the coal yard and also brightening our room . After my mom finished her striptease, she was already lying there, bracing herself for a storm. When she noticed my dad hadn't moved, she opened her eyes and realized the awkwardness. Even with the curtains drawn, they could still see everything —the pattern on the blankets, the expressions on their faces, and so on. I felt a surge of excitement followed by fear, afraid they'd stop. Sure enough, they didn't move. I was utterly dejected; the process of undressing and the allure of my tight underwear had left my erection with nowhere to go. Then, I suddenly had an idea—pretend to be asleep. I acted as if I were sound asleep, and they were completely fooled. Slowly, they started moving. Kissing, touching breasts, kicking off underwear, penetration—all in one smooth motion.

As soon as the word "lightly" left my lips, I gently opened my eyes. My heart started racing. Their
sex position was quite strange; it wasn't the way I'd caught them before. My mom had her legs raised under the covers
, supported by my dad—I could guess it through the blanket. My mom's face was turned towards me, and her expression, combined with her
looks , was incredibly alluring. I wished I were on top of her, so I started masturbating vigorously.

Suddenly, my dad looked at me, saw the rise and fall of my legs under the covers, and abruptly stopped
. I felt incredibly embarrassed. My mom also seemed a little confused. The squelching sounds stopped, and she opened her eyes to ask
what was wrong. My dad didn't answer, just turned his head and started thrusting again.

This time, his thrusts were much stronger, making my mom gasp with each stroke.
After dozens of vigorous thrusts, he suddenly stopped moving. My mom shuddered and then calmed down. But I hadn't ejaculated yet. I
didn't know why—was it from arousal? Was it from nervousness? I didn't know.

Later, my dad got off my mom, but instead of falling asleep immediately, he looked at me again. Our eyes met,
speechless and ashamed.

It's hard to describe the atmosphere at that moment; my mom was still in the afterglow of her orgasm, and drifted off to sleep…

After

my

mom fell asleep, I forget who looked away first. My hand continued masturbating, but I didn't feel the urge to ejaculate
. Giving up now felt unsatisfying, so I kept masturbating…

Later, my father started snoring loudly, but I couldn't sleep. In the light, I looked at my mother's figure under
the covers ; she was so beautiful. The way she slept was so comforting. I realized I still couldn't accept fantasizing about her
. I still loved her because she was my mother, my closest family, not just a woman, a
woman I could have sex with and manipulate at will.

That night, I didn't ejaculate, and I resolved never to think like that again.

Even now, I feel like I'm a contradiction—extremely conservative on one hand, and
filled with lustful thoughts on the other. But I still gave my first time to my wife, and haven't had any other women since.

In the days that followed, they didn't have sex before bed either. Everything returned to normal, back to how it was before, and I
remained as innocent and carefree as ever.

The weather gradually warmed up, and people wore less and less clothing, using thinner blankets. My mother could no longer
undress under the covers.

That night, she was wearing dress pants and a shirt, looking quite energetic. My father told her to go to sleep, but she
hesitated to take off her clothes.

She went to the bathroom, and after a long while, she came out. At that moment, my nose almost bled. She was wearing
a tight-fitting vest on top and a pair of thongs—something she'd bought somewhere—that barely covered her pubic
hair in the front and her buttocks in the back; you could even see the marks on her anus. She covered her face and quickly crawled into bed,
which was really just a towel blanket.

My penis, which had been quiet for days, instantly became rock hard. I looked at my father; he had a half-smile on his face, pulled my mother
into his arms, and told me to turn off the light.

After turning off the lights, I realized that the lights outside had gone out, and it was pitch black again.
Before I could even react, they had already started. After a while, my eyes gradually adjusted, and I could see their outlines.

So I went back to my old ways and started masturbating. Soon, I was on the verge of ejaculation. I held back and put my head close to
where they were sleeping. My mom was moaning right next to my face, and my dad was not far in front of me, working hard.
This time, they didn't ejaculate. For some reason, my mom had several orgasms, while my dad just kept
going in one position. I no longer had the excitement I felt at the beginning. After they finished, I wanted to go to the bathroom and go to sleep. I didn't want to ejaculate anymore.

This was probably the result of two people fighting each other. Finally, my dad ejaculated, and they both fell asleep.

I went to the bathroom, and while I was urinating, I suddenly saw a pair of women's underwear sitting brightly on the washing machine. The crotch
area was still wet. I couldn't help but lean over and smell it. A fragrance and the smell of urine mixed together
stimulated me and I got hard again. I boldly put the crotch on my penis and started masturbating.

Within twenty strokes, I ejaculated into my underwear. This was the first time I'd ever masturbated with my mom's underwear, and afterwards, an overwhelming
sense of guilt washed over me. I put the underwear in the washing machine and went back to my room, feeling guilty. Was this our first time
exchanging bodily fluids?

From then on, I became obsessed with women's underwear, especially my mom's. I had to masturbate whenever I saw it, and
this fetish for underwear has never ended.

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