Ambiguous Springtime Feelings

page views:1 Publication date:2023-04-24 08:12:38

Ambiguous Affection
As Liu Ximei walked, she recalled her earlier agitated expression, which might have frightened Zeng Liangsheng, and couldn't help but chuckle. Deep down, she felt a surge of joy. She had thought that a poor girl like herself held no place in his heart, yet he actually valued her, even going so far as to flirt with her. She held several math and English practice tests in her hand, things she had always wanted but dared not dream of. Zeng Liangsheng's generosity deeply moved her.
For her, home was a door she didn't want to return to, but had to. Her father, Liu Laogen, was a burly man, barely literate, who spent his days drinking and causing a ruckus. When he wasn't drinking, he was a liar, boastful man. Liu Ximei couldn't understand how her mother had married such a man.
Before she could even open the door, she heard a childish voice calling from behind, "Second Sister, don't go in."
She didn't need to turn around to know it was her third brother, Liu Duo. He was a clever little devil, sweet-talking, and always pleased with the family. He was also quite bold; sometimes when Liu Ximei went out at night, she would often have him accompany her.
"What's wrong? What are you doing outside?"
"Don't go in, Dad and Mom are doing that." Liu Duo looked at his older sister, a year older than him, with a strange, ambiguous smile.
"Ah!" Liu Ximei's face flushed red. Seeing her brother's cheeky expression, she was furious and slapped him hard on the shoulder. "How did you know? Did you peep again?"
She remembered last month when Liu Duo had peeped at their parents in the kitchen. She herself had gone to the kitchen to get matches and had inadvertently witnessed the intimate scene as well; her hairless genitals had involuntarily secreted some fluid. Especially her younger brother's fiery gaze when he turned around felt like he wanted to strip her naked, making her feel both ashamed and angry.
At that moment, Liu Duo's malicious gaze returned, brazen and bold, lingering on her increasingly full breasts, a faint hint of wickedness on his dark face. She remembered his earlier frivolous manner; wasn't it exactly the same as this naughty little brother's?
"Sister, how about we watch it together again?"
Liu Duo's eager look was like a little monkey, making her both angry and amused. She was angry that this boy, who wasn't serious about his studies, had such a keen interest in such sordid matters; she was amused by the comical way he shook his head and sighed when they watched it together once.
"No, go back to your room."
Her family had three rooms. Liu Duo and her older brother, Liu Gao, lived in one on the far right, she lived in the middle, and her parents lived in the far left room, which turned north next to the kitchen. Last time, Xi Mei and Liu Duo had peeked through a crack in the kitchen and witnessed their parents making love.
She was a little surprised that Liu Duo hadn't gone to watch, but instead stood outside waiting for her.
Before she could even cast a suspicious glance, Liu Duo chuckled and leaned in, "Sister, they just went in, it can't be that quick. I think Mom doesn't seem too happy."
Xi Mei spat, "How do you know Mom isn't happy? Aren't you ashamed? What do you know at such a young age?"
She tiptoed into the yard. Several hens were pecking at the sand, and the big yellow dog was lazily curled up on the kitchen threshold, dozing. Faint voices drifted from her mother's room through the window.
“Hey, husband, don’t you know any shame? If you’re going to do it, at least wait until the children are asleep.”
“But the children aren’t home… Old woman, just let me vomit, it’s so uncomfortable holding it in.”
“What if they come back? You may not know shame, but I do.”
Soon, rustling sounds filled the room, initially suppressed and reluctant, followed by heavy breathing. The mother’s throat seemed to be weighed down by a heavy object, like the howl of a wounded animal, followed by a long sigh.
“Sister, let’s go to your room and see.”
Liu Duo followed closely behind Liu Ximei. He was in the budding stage of adolescence, only vaguely understanding such things, only thinking about the fun in them. The mother’s large breasts and full vulva, the trembling and moaning during orgasm, made his young heart want to shout out, a kind of pleasure of desire being released, trembling with the trembling of the mother’s body. Especially watching with his second sister, there was an indescribable evil decadence.
With each cry of her mother and each hysterical shout of her father, Liu Ximei's palms were clenched with sweat. She felt as if her body were a pea pod torn open, rotting and disintegrating into scattered fragments. Her younger brother, standing behind her, seemed to have matured; his breath was like muffled thunder, like flames. The primal instincts dormant within him suddenly erupted, all the dark evil quietly overflowing.
Suddenly, Liu Duo's hand was on her buttocks, slowly caressing them. Her already turbulent heart trembled with fear at the impending wickedness. She wanted to struggle, but deep down she seemed to relish this soul-stirring touch. The desire that Zeng Liangsheng had stirred within her was instantly rekindled; the flower buried in her lower body desperately needed the nourishment of dew.
She lowered her eyes, the evening breeze slightly cool as her trousers slipped down. Liu Duo's hand was now on her vulva, his restless fingers trying to explore the entrance. A fleeting moment of reason flashed through her like lightning.
"You can't do this, Liu Ximei! How can you be so shameless!"
She grabbed her brother's wrist and shoved him. Caught off guard, Liu Duo, who was half-squatting, fell to the ground with a thud. Seeing his sister's angry and ashamed gaze, he snapped out of his shock,
utterly bewildered and helpless. From inside the room, her mother's intermittent moans echoed again, almost like the clamor of death, yet also like a distant, trembling sound, as if she were being pulled in and out of her twisted life by this dull movement, growing more intense with each passing moment.
Ignoring her brother, Liu Ximei turned and ran out the door, standing alone outside the fence. A torrent of lust surged into her life like a raging flood.
In that instant, she understood what that gleaming light in Zeng Liangsheng's eyes was!
*** *** *** ***
The window was open, a slight chill in the breeze, and the moonlight blended with the luster of the white oleander. Zeng Liangsheng was hunched over the black nanmu table his father had left him, working on the test paper he had brought back from Teacher Wang Ze that afternoon. His mind, however, was completely elsewhere, still immersed in the strange encounters of the day, so vivid and alluring, like a layer of dazzling, hazy colors. Was everything that had happened this damp afternoon merely a mirage?
Was it all just a day like a ship with its sails torn off, drifting aimlessly?
His mother sat beside him, quietly watching him do his homework. His unemployed mother always liked to gaze quietly at her beloved son's pure face. Today she wore a purplish-red casual dress, the scent of white jasmine lingering in the small study. The dew-washed lamplight bathed her, making her elegant and charming.
"Ah Sheng, take a rest. Mom stewed a free-range chicken for you; it'll be just right to eat now." Mulan saw her son deep in thought, as if he had many unsolved problems. She knew she couldn't help, but her husband was an excellent teacher, and through his influence, she knew that sometimes taking a break could lead to unexpected and enlightening solutions.
"Hey. Mom, have some too." Zeng Liangsheng smelled a fragrant aroma, pure and delicious. "Is it made with soaked maitake mushrooms?"
He felt a warmth in his heart. His mother worked tirelessly day and night, and every time she had a little money, she would buy him supplements. This free-range chicken had cost her almost a week's salary. He had told his mother this many times, but she always said, "You're still growing, you can't skimp on food. Don't worry about the money, Mom will earn more.
" "Yes, your father loved my braised free-range chicken with tree flowers, he always devoured it." Mulan thought of her husband, and her eyes welled up with tears again. Her beloved was gone; there was heaven there, another era, another woman...
Zeng Liang heard his mother's voice choked with emotion, knowing that she was thinking of his father again. He felt a pang of sorrow, thinking of how his parents had been so loving in life, but now they were separated by death. The dead were gone, but the living had to live in the torment of longing. Moreover, the complexities of life—wealth, reputation, worries—all kinds of burdens came one after another. How could a weak woman bear such a heavy burden? He wished he could grow up immediately and share his mother's burdens.
"Mom, this is for you." Zeng Liangsheng handed the chicken neck to Mulan. His mother always loved chicken feet and duck feet, and if there were any at home, she would usually take them all; he and his father never fought with her for them.
"Hmm, good boy..." Mulan took the chicken neck, and seeing her son's greasy mouth, she felt a surge of joy, like drinking a fine wine that had been brewing for years, incredibly sweet. She suddenly remembered that dark night of wandering, how her empty desire, like a termite, had been gnawing at her own fertile fruit in the quiet night, and her face flushed.
Zeng Liangsheng was captivated.
He had always dreamed that his strong arms could spread like an eagle's wings and soar towards his mother's azure sky. It was an extremely desperate longing, like a shooting star in the midnight sky, trying to plunge headlong into the deep shadows. But the fleeting clouds of desire were always driven away by the storm of reason, and above the halo of morality and ethics, a sharp sword hung high.
"Mom, you look so beautiful." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, afraid that his mother would be angry.
In an instant, Mulan looked at him in surprise, their gazes meeting through a sliver of lamplight. She seemed a little flustered, a little panicked and fearful, yet also a little delighted, only lowering her head like a drooping rain cloud. She should have been angry, at least playfully scolding him for his frivolity, but even she didn't know why, she felt as shy and bashful as a girl in her first love.
Time seemed to stand still, and in that instant, everything in life—how much intimacy, how many conversations, how many dreams, how many hints—came rushing in. Besides that, there was nothing else, only this leisurely ambiguity permeating the small room.
"What does a child know about beauty? Mother is old..." Mulan remained silent for a long time before slightly turning her gaze to the window. Through the sparse branches, a new moon was slowly rising, like the smile of a departing lover, or even the dance of a fairy.
"No, no, Mom, you don't know, you're beautiful, really beautiful." Zeng Liang's voice was somewhat urgent, as if he wanted to confess something, as if his mother wouldn't be beautiful if he didn't.
He had overheard the neighbor women gossiping, saying that this woman was extremely alluring, and that her husband probably couldn't resist her, and indeed, she had killed him. At that time, he felt very sad, wanting only to rush out and argue with those gossipy women, but he was afraid of getting into trouble with his mother.
Mulan smiled slightly, "Hurry up and eat, I'll go boil some water for you."
She changed the subject, feeling that it was so dark outside, but so warm inside. From the dark night sky scattered with stars, it seemed as if the words of the gods came: "Was the beauty and tenderness I gave you fake? Was it empty? Must you wait until the curtain of life falls before you regret it?"
But, but, he is my son!
She opened the door and stepped into the long night. The morning star's rays streamed down her slender shoulders, and the sweet fragrance of jasmine was alluringly seductive. A weary drumbeat resounded in her heart. She was actually a little afraid—afraid of what would happen if she stayed in this room any longer. Her son's burning gaze was like a gilded sword, piercing her chest, then tearing out her heart, leaving it naked under the moonlight for all to see.
Now, she understood a little; she was using the flames of desire to burn her future to ashes. In an instant, her face flushed crimson, like the sunset that had set the sky ablaze.
When her son stood up to see her off, it seemed he had touched her, yet it seemed not. However, she felt it, felt a sharp pain in her body, and a powerful, persistent voice within her called out: her son was a man now!
Zeng Liang watched his mother's slender figure gradually disappear at the end of the corridor, his heart filled with bewilderment. He recalled the day before yesterday when he and his mother had gone to the local temple to offer incense. They had ridden in a farm vehicle, the back of which was loaded with tangerines from the south. His mother nestled close to him, quiet and still, like a little bird seeking shelter. A hazy atmosphere
hung in the air, like a mist enveloping them. The surrounding silence made the farm vehicle's engine sound unusually loud, as if everything was waiting. He noticed his mother's hand, the ring on her right hand resting on her thigh—her father's wedding ring, a symbol that she was already taken. But now that his father was gone, did it mean his mother should take off that ring?
His mother looked incredibly beautiful, her slightly downturned lips smiling proudly. He remembered her soft, melodious voice, clear and heavenly. His limbs felt stiff and unresponsive, as if trapped in a spider's web, trapped in a nightmare, and he was filled with anger at his own powerlessness. He wanted to grab onto something to break free, but there was nothing around him, nothing to hold onto. So, he could only fix his gaze on his mother beside him, the only woman.
The moment she turned back as she left, her sorrow was poignant, her eyes brimming with spring-like passion; her feminine allure was at its most intense at that moment. He finally understood that what the gossipy women in the alley had said wasn't entirely without merit.
Time flew by, and the high school entrance exam was fast approaching.
"Mom, when did Grandpa go back? Why didn't you tell me? I could have seen him off."
"I told him to go back. You've been studying hard these past few days. I was afraid he'd bother you. Our house is so small."
"Okay, I'll go see him after my exam." Zeng Liang looked at Mulan carefully wiping the table, feeling a mixture of curiosity and joy. From now on, it would just be the two of them. His dark eyes, with a strange and ambiguous gaze, fixed on Mulan's slender figure, as if searching for something. "Mom, I'm going to school."
"Okay, be careful on the way." Mulan glanced at the quartz clock on the wall. She would cook some more porridge for her son later to nourish him; he had clearly lost a lot of weight these past few days, probably from studying too hard.
Unlike the first time, Zeng Liangsheng no longer felt that despair and chilling fear, and quickly developed a taste of something new and exciting.
When he arrived at Wang Ze's house, he was still asleep. "I played mahjong all night last night, and now I'm sleeping like a log." Feng Peipei sat in front of her dressing table, drawing long, thin, curved eyebrows, pondering what color eyeshadow to use.
Zeng Liangsheng was a little surprised, thinking, "Aren't you afraid your husband will hear you saying that?" Upon closer inspection, she seemed completely unconcerned, and then she beckoned him over.
"Do I look good like this?" Her thin lips parted slightly, revealing a row of neat, white teeth, and a few shallow lines appeared at the corners of her lips. These lines gave her smile a touch of shy beauty and timidity.
He heard Wang Ze snoring loudly, indeed sounding somewhat like a pig, and his courage grew. He thought, "I can't see anything through the curtain." He leaned forward, his hand already inside her bra.
"You rascal, aren't you afraid of death?" Feng Peipei chuckled, her eyes brimming with tears, her voice soft and seductive.
“Teacher Wang asked me to tutor him, but he didn’t keep his word. So I had to ask you to tutor him in his place.” Zeng Liangsheng spoke with an air of ease, leaning down to gently nibble her earlobe.
“You little rascal, is this the kind of tutoring?” Feng Peipei felt a shiver run through her body, especially her genitals, which rippled with a flush. Although she was wanton, being teased by a young man right next to her husband was still a first for her, and her heart fluttered with a sudden surge of excitement. However, this restraint vanished instantly, like petals falling in the breeze.
This was what it meant to be audacious; the passionate couple were instantly intoxicated by the allure of darkness.
Zeng Liangsheng felt hot all over, extremely agitated. He teased the woman wantonly, yet he was also incredibly nervous. A hot, surging consciousness accumulated in his chest, causing his wrists and genitals to swell, trembling slightly. His mind was filled with lustful images, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Let’s go next door…” Before Feng Peipei could finish her sentence, her lips were already firmly sucked on. She couldn’t speak, and due to nervousness and excitement, her breathing became rapid, and she felt like she was about to faint. Her panties were quickly pulled down, and she didn’t even know if she or this reckless boy had pulled them down. She only knew that in the chaos, the creaking of the chair beneath her made her soul almost fly out of her body.
Wang Ze suddenly stopped snoring, and in an instant, the room was completely silent. Feng Peipei’s soft, creamy hand was holding his dark, long penis, and the air was filled with the lazy, grassy scent emanating from her vulva.
Then, Wang Ze turned over and began to snore rhythmically again. Zeng Liang and Feng Peipei smiled at each other, then suddenly embraced tightly, flesh to flesh, lips to lips, truly allowing no gaps.
After a while, Zeng Liang squatted down and brought his mouth to her damp pubic hair, sucking on her vulva.
"Be quiet, you little rascal, don't suck too loudly..." Feng Peipei gasped for breath, drenched in sweat, her body slumped lazily in the chair. His tongue wandered, sometimes sucking on her clitoris, sometimes probing inside her vulva, stirring and churning, causing her to clench her thighs tightly, her vaginal walls convulsing. She
remembered that autumn after she lost her virginity, when her older brother climbed into her bed. Outside the window, robins, emitting a pale red glow, sang their autumn songs. But her heart felt as if she were in a dark, swampy winter, her brother's shameless words still echoing in her ears. "You shameless woman, if you're going to be shameless, you should do it with family, how could you let that old geezer take advantage of you? Look, you're so shameless, you're already wet before we've even done anything!"
She really wanted to start a new life, but life didn't allow her a choice.
The chair was quickly abandoned because it was too noisy. Feng Peipei braced her hands against the wall, her body arched, her long legs spread wide. Zeng Liangsheng stood behind her, his hands reaching forward to stroke her pubic hair, his enormous penis pounding forcefully between her plump buttocks.
Under Zeng Liangsheng's powerful thrusts, the world filled with shadows vanished, and her wild desires rose again. She wished this thrusting and piercing would continue forever, without end. Gradually, under his ravaging, the pungent smell of her vulva combined with the vaginal walls, secreting a rich, sandalwood-like fragrance. Deep within her, her vulva fully received his dew.
Her labia were like buds about to bloom, and his enormous penis slid deep into her, relentlessly touching and gradually blossoming the buds into flowers. Feng Peipei couldn't take it anymore. She barely managed to suppress her rough breathing and moans, but the tingling sensation that spread from her nerves to her senses was unbearable. Her fingernails dug through the cement plaster on the wall, some falling in a rustling sound, some landing on her face, mingling with her sweat and her disheveled hair, creating a somewhat terrifying and grotesque scene.
Zeng Liangsheng didn't pay attention, because his eyes were closed. His mind was filled with his mother's crescent-moon-like body, her fragrant breath permeating his entire being. The accidental touch of her body with his mother's before leaving home that morning had truly shaken his soul. He didn't know when this torment would end. He had tried to suppress it, but was quickly overwhelmed. His mother was everywhere, and he had nowhere to hide.
He felt a strange excitement. The woman's muffled moans, along with her husband's rhythmic snoring, were like a domestic symphony, urging him to attack, to seize the fruits of her lust. She's no match for you, my mother! Your dignified virtue is something this wanton young woman could never hope to match. But, Mother, I'm so helpless! Could I really, like I did with her, sink into your gentle, graceful body?
No, that would be too desecrating, Mother.
He thrust his penis back into her vagina, the labia he had just pulled out disappearing again.
"You little rascal, my good husband, I, I'm almost, almost there..." Feng Peipei felt her whole body crumble. Her legs, which were squatting, felt as heavy as lead. Even worse was the tingling and numbness in her vagina, which spread throughout her body. Normally, she would have cried out in pleasure. But now, her husband could wake up at any moment. And this little devil was so powerful; after all this time, he still hadn't ejaculated.
"Plop plop plop plop..." The sounds of sexual intercourse weren't drowned out by Wang Ze's snoring; they grew even louder. Time passed, and Zeng Liang listened to the rumbling of their bodies during intercourse—a kind of noise amidst the clamor, a forbidden pleasure, the feeling of undressing in front of everyone. He knew the woman beneath him was experiencing both excitement and fear; in fact, he felt the same way. He was just a young, fearless woman, possessing a do-or-die courage and a defiant pride. "
I'm going to do this to you, you slut. You stole my virginity; it'll never come back." Deep down, this precious thing was meant for his mother, Mulan, but he dared not think that way.
The light grew brighter from the outside in, evenly coating the peeling, mottled walls with the colors of sunlight. Suddenly, Wang Ze coughed, and the man and woman in the act of intercourse shuddered violently. The cannonballs, which had been poised to fire, poured forth like mercury. It was only a fleeting moment, but it was enough; he had achieved himself, melting and scattering in the flames.
Wang Ze turned over again and fell into a deep sleep.
*** *** *** ***
The whole world seemed to consist only of her, in this empty room. Mulan lay half-reclined on the bed.
Three zhang away, she gazed at the semi-circular window frame. The sunlight there was pure white and bright, cut into quiet pieces by the pattern. A petal-like character was embedded motionless in the white.
She was exhausted, yet involuntarily felt a profound peace within. Time began its seemingly imperceptible passing, and she felt as if time had ceased to exist. Though the home was simple and humble, it was spotless and tidy thanks to her skillful touch. Sunlight danced across the windowpanes, sometimes casting the floral characters in black, sometimes red, and sometimes shimmering with a golden sheen, as if plated with molten copper.
The thin blanket billowed slightly, forming a half-mountain shape, her knees forming the peaks. She closed her eyes, feeling a sense of contentment, a feeling of ease slowly filling her chest. A rare moment of tranquility after a long day, the peaceful atmosphere soothed her like a bath. At this moment, she had no reason to relax; her beautiful lips could rest too.
Suddenly, she groaned, a slight upturn at the corners of her mouth, a soft moan escaping her previously pursed lips…
followed by a tremor in the bed, like the constant shuffling of footsteps, a series of thunderous vibrations, varying in intensity. The thin blanket was pulled back, and Mulan's index and middle fingers were rapidly sliding between her vulva, the rhythm slow and rhythmic. Her vulva overflowed with fluids, casting a soft, velvety layer of pubic hair over her lush pubic area. Then, her eyes became cloudy, and she mumbled incoherently. If one listened closely, one could hear a few clearer words, "Sound, Ah-sound..."
Her entire being was immersed in this unique experience. Desire was like a small breach in a long dike, a torrent bursting forth, surging blood, and a long, free-flowing wind between the cliffs of her heart. She only wanted to enjoy this atmosphere alone, listening to the dark pastoral songs she had composed herself. She shouldn't have imagined that this was her son's spear, firmly attached to the solidified hillside, instantly softening the intensity into tranquility, turning the clamorous river into a mirror-like lake. This was the legend of love, her dear son, did you know?
Mulan leaned lazily against the bed, her fingers hooked inside her vulva, desperately trying to salvage the fleeting pleasure. But the pleasure was fleeting, and she felt a melancholy loss. She hadn't yet felt the clamor of her vulva; the tide that permeated, corroded, surrounded, and ravaged her hadn't truly arrived. Perhaps, that would have to wait until that day, when that enormous spear pierced through her blossoming season, dipped in the murky dew, to compose a rebellious poem for her loneliness.
Her head drooped. Her vulva, tainted by lust, was damp and cold. The air in the room was stifling; even moving was difficult. Every nerve, every blood vessel, every muscle fiber was taut, indicating she was in a state of critical overload. With a soft cry, a surge of energy rushed out, and she collapsed onto the bed, the song her father-in-law often sang echoing in her ears: "Unable to pluck that flower, my heart is tormented; plucking it, there is a tribulation..."
When did it begin? She stroked her vulva, as tender as a young girl's. She couldn't control herself; a mysterious, dark spirit often wandered through her dreams and nights. Her eyes brewed a powerful force—the force of life, the fervent and intense power of blood.
Last night, he came again.
The night belonged to the secretive. His fair, ruddy face glowed, slightly animalistic; in the dim light, his gleaming eyes revealed a thirst for desire. Unbeknownst to him, her soul was gently responding to his resounding call.
He gazed at her for a long time, then gently caressed her. Only then were they one, albeit only in spirit. He was like a young, strong black cat, creeping in silently, its presence unnoticed at first, then suddenly and powerfully capturing her. He wasn't exploring her body, but something within her, something that subtly responded in the darkness of her subconscious.
She longed for him to be a true warrior, brave and passionate, capable of both love and hate, not a boy kneeling before her bed, his pale lips moving helplessly as he plucked the ancient strings of their souls, as their bodies and souls were torn apart by those sharp and blunt strings. As they endured the torment of original sin, they were also far removed from their primal existence, from the woman and that hidden, warm cave.
In the darkness, a passionate, turbulent, and irresistible lust lurks—a dark lust that always hides in the daytime.
When will this game of the dark night end?
When did I become so wanton? Just to worship a man's engorged penis! Perhaps, just because my fragile heart needs the rough, powerful caress of an axe?

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