My mother finally married me.

page views:1 Publication date:2023-05-17 08:13:34

That evening, after dinner, my grandparents watched TV in the living room with my mother.
I said goodbye and went upstairs to my room. After fussing for a while, I excitedly came back downstairs.
As soon as I entered the living room, I was immediately stared at by all three of them. I was wearing a very formal suit, something I had never done in front of them before.
Under their gaze, I walked straight to my mother and looked at her affectionately. Just as my mother blushed slightly under my gaze, I suddenly did something that surprised them greatly.
I knelt down on one knee facing my mother, took out a red heart-shaped box containing a diamond ring, presented it to her, and then, with utmost sincerity and excitement, said to her, "Meiqian, will you marry me?"
Hearing me call her by her name for the first time and formally propose to her, my mother seemed unaccustomed to such a scene, her face flushed with embarrassment as she froze.
"Daughter, say yes!" Grandma said, beaming from the side, while Grandpa also wore a smile.
This time, Mother finally reacted. She looked at me with loving eyes, remained silent for a few seconds, and then shyly agreed, "I say yes." Her ears turned completely red with embarrassment.
Although I knew she would definitely say yes, hearing her agree to marry me in person still filled me with boundless joy: my dream was finally beginning to come true. I excitedly took out the ring, took her hand, and slipped it onto her finger.
After doing this, I stood up, picked Mother up, spun her around a few times, and shouted with joy. Grandpa and Grandma, seeing this, couldn't stop laughing.
After spinning her around, I gently put Mother down. At this moment, my mother's face was still flushed with embarrassment, seemingly still unable to process what I had just done in front of her parents. However, beneath the blush, the deep happiness on her face was undeniable.
After we stood up straight again, before I could say anything, my grandmother began to comment on us. She said that my suit and my mother's modified cheongsam matched perfectly, making us look like a match made in heaven. My grandfather nodded in agreement with a smile.
My mother seemed embarrassed by my grandmother's comment, so she took my hand and we ran together to the rooftop terrace on the third floor, which made the two elders laugh heartily again.
Once on the rooftop, my mother stood in front of the railing, and I put my arms around her waist from behind. Because I am 1.8 meters tall, although my mother is not short either, she still looked petite and delicate against me.
After embracing my mother, I pulled my right hand out, reached into my pocket, and magically produced a vibrant red rose. I held it to her nose.
My mother took the rose, holding it in one hand and using the other to cover my hand that was resting on her lower abdomen. Then, she tilted her head back slightly, turned to face me, and pressed her red lips to my cheek .
"Do you like it?" I asked gently after returning her kiss.
"Mmm," my mother responded softly, leaning her head closer to mine, our faces touching. For a moment, neither of us spoke, just embracing each other tenderly, bathed in the moonlight.
The next morning, after breakfast, my mother and I went to the marriage registration office with our identification documents to legally establish our marital relationship.
The process went smoothly; the staff carefully checked our identities and quickly processed our paperwork. When I finally received the bright red marriage certificate, I immediately opened it. Looking at the intimate photo of my mother and me, and the names Zheng Yi and He Meiqian in the couple's information section, an overwhelming feeling of excitement, thrill, and happiness instantly filled my heart.
From this moment on, my biological mother officially became my legal wife.
I examined the brand-new marriage certificate for a while, then turned to look at my mother, who was happily handing out wedding candies to the staff. I thought to myself, "Mom, perhaps you will never know that I am your biological son, but I will always remember that you are my biological mother, and now, my wife. Whether you are my mother or my wife, I will dedicate my life to loving you and making you truly happy." Thinking this, I felt a sense of maturity, a new sense of responsibility within me.
While I was reflecting on this, my mother finished handing out the wedding candies. She turned around, saw me looking at her tenderly, and quickly walked to my side, taking my hand. After smiling at her, I led her out of the marriage registration office and drove home together.
On the way home, my mother and I discussed the upcoming arrangements, specifically the wedding arrangements. However, after much discussion, we realized that the key issue was timing. Only after confirming the specific date of the wedding could we plan everything else.
When we got home, we found my maternal grandparents there. I immediately told them that my mother and I had officially registered our marriage. When I addressed them as "Mom and Dad," their faces lit up with immense relief, joy, and happiness; they couldn't stop smiling. Actually, when I called them "Mom and Dad," my heart skipped a beat, a strange sense of excitement welling up inside me.
Then, my grandmother pulled my mother aside and asked when she could hold her grandchild, making my mother blush and frequently look at me, as if seeking my help. I could only offer her a helpless smile. There was nothing I could do about Grandma's nagging.
Then, I told Grandpa about the wedding date. After listening, he thought about it seriously and said that it was best to have someone calculate the date to be on the safe side; we couldn't just decide on a random date. Grandma, hearing our discussion, quickly joined in and agreed with Grandpa's point of view. Now that we had a direction, the rest was easier. After Grandpa asked for my exact birth date, he immediately went out excitedly to find a fortune teller.
An hour or so later, he returned. He told us that the wedding date had been chosen—a weekend six months from now.
With the date set, we started discussing other preparations. After a long discussion, we finally decided to hold the wedding in H city. Anyway, I don't have any relatives in G city, and G city isn't really my hometown, so it doesn't matter where the banquet is held; the important thing is to be able to accommodate my mother's relatives.
Regarding the new wedding home, my in-laws initially suggested I decorate it in my current house, but I disagreed. I felt that having the new home in my in-laws' house would make it seem like I was marrying into their family, which wouldn't be appropriate. My plan was to buy a house in H city, preferably a detached villa. Since there were still six months until the wedding, we could renovate it immediately. When I proposed this, my grandparents initially objected, saying it was too wasteful of money. However, after I roughly explained my assets to them, they were surprised for a moment and then had no further objections.
With the major aspects settled, we didn't delve into the remaining details. I took care of everything except sending invitations to the bride's relatives.
During the discussions, my mother mostly remained silent, adopting a hands-off approach, letting me take the lead.
Her posture filled me with a strange sense of satisfaction, and my affection for her deepened.
After discussing public matters, my mother and I went upstairs to her bedroom to continue our own conversation.
Since my mother's supervisor position at the hotel hadn't been revoked, two days ago, the hotel management, upon learning of her recovery, had come to visit and offer their condolences. They also suggested that if her health had fully recovered, the hotel hoped she could return to work as soon as possible. My mother decided that she would return to work at the hotel for the time being. She said she had worked there for over ten years and had developed a strong attachment to the hotel, so she didn't want to resign immediately. I respected and understood this.
Although I am wealthy, I don't want to completely confine my mother to my side; as long as she is happy, that's all that matters.
Actually, besides respecting her wishes, I also had a selfish reason for not objecting to my mother continuing to work at the hotel. I've always found my mother most attractive in her uniform skirt, and I hope to see her like that more often in the future. Of course, even if she stopped doing that job, if I suggested she wear similar clothes, she would probably try her best to accommodate my preferences. However, that would lack a certain authentic and natural charm.
Over the next few days, my mother and I went to a villa area in the suburbs to investigate. Finally, we bought a villa near a small lake in a secluded environment and finalized the renovation arrangements.
During these days, my mother was extremely enthusiastic, completely embracing her role as the lady of the house. Especially when discussing renovation details with the renovation company, her focused and dedicated demeanor made me, the husband, feel quite ashamed.
However, since my mother was in charge of the house renovation, I didn't feel any sense of loss or discomfort; in fact
, I was enjoying it. Since we had officially established our marital relationship, my usually dignified and reserved mother had become much more open with me during these days, treating me entirely as a wife. Hugging and kissing went without saying, but what excited me most was that once in the car, after kissing and groping her, I excitedly told her that I wanted to see her genitals. My mother was deeply embarrassed, but she still granted my wish. She was wearing a rather casual skirt suit. She reached under her skirt and pulled off her panties, then turned to face me, shyly spreading her legs. She tried to lift her skirt to her waist, but I stopped her, only letting her spread her legs as wide as possible, until her alluring thighs stretched the skirt to its limit. I found that peeking at her genitals like this was even more exciting and stimulating.
This was the first time I had seen my mother's genitals, and the feeling from that sight was completely different from the feeling of touching them; it was a unique and stimulating pleasure. Imagine your mother wearing a skirt, legs spread wide, allowing you a close-up view of her bare genitals. How would you feel if you could clearly see her fair inner thighs, full mons pubis, dark pubic hair, delicate labia, and the half-open vaginal opening? For me, it was so arousing that I trembled uncontrollably, and my penis instantly became rock hard.
Not only did I look, but I also reached down and slowly touched her smooth inner thighs, slipping my hand inside her skirt. While looking, I teased her labia and clitoris with my fingers. Finally, after she was panting softly and her genitals were incredibly wet, I inserted my fingers into her vagina, which was overflowing with glistening, sticky vaginal fluid, gently stirring the tender vaginal walls.
During the act, I was undoubtedly aroused and my blood was boiling, while my mother kept her eyes tightly closed, her face flushed, her head tilted back slightly, and she couldn't help but let out faint moans. Her hands were tightly gripping my arm, I didn't know if she was trying to stop me or pull my hand deeper under her skirt.
At that moment, after watching and playing with my mother's genitals for a while, I was so stimulated that I wanted to take her right there and then, I couldn't wait to insert my penis into her vagina or even her uterus, to enjoy the thrill of incestuous intercourse with my own mother.
Fortunately, just as I was about to do it, a group of students walked towards the direction of my car. Their loud and noisy chatter startled me, and I had to abandon my next move against my mother, while also reluctantly pulling my hand out from under her skirt.
After I withdrew my hand, my mother slumped weakly against the seat, her chest still heaving rapidly, unable to calm down for a long time.
Having been interrupted, I didn't continue to assault her. Instead, I restrained my impulse, started the car, and drove straight home.
When we arrived, my mother still felt weak all over and almost couldn't walk steadily. I had to half-support her to keep her upright. After a few steps, I noticed a damp patch several fingers wide on the back of her skirt. I immediately guessed that it was from her vaginal fluid. This discovery stirred a wave of desire within me, but I didn't say anything.
I helped my mother upstairs to her bedroom. Fortunately, my grandparents weren't home at the time; otherwise, if they had seen my mother in such a disheveled state, my thin-skinned mother would probably have been mortified.
After that experience, for the rest of the time, until the day of my wedding with my mother, I tried my best to restrain myself, refraining from touching her body excessively, especially her genitals. I was afraid that I would lose control and take her body. I had promised her that I would take her body on our wedding night, and I didn't want to break that promise. Moreover, I genuinely hoped that our first sexual encounter would be on our wedding night. Of course, my insistence on this was, to put it bluntly, self-degrading and self-torture; the feeling of seeing and touching her but deliberately suppressing my primal urges was truly agonizing. "Why did I set the wedding date so far in the first place? What a mistake!" I often lamented to myself. Fortunately, my mother's admiring and caring gaze, and her increasingly deep affection for me, gave me much comfort and encouragement, and I managed to get through it.
During this time, my mother went back to work at the hotel for a while, and even took a week off to have our wedding photos taken. As for me, while spending time with my mother, I also took the time to gradually put my previous plans into action, and everything went very smoothly.

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