My Story with My Mom (4)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-04-23 08:12:15

Word count: 5379.
I've read many erotic novels, where the mother is either promiscuous and sexually promiscuous, or her son is so easily seduced that they become inseparable, while the father is either frequently absent or impotent, leaving the mother lonely and miserable... In reality, such situations are extremely rare; I believe normal families are far more common. One of the purposes of sharing my experience on this forum is to tell everyone that such situations do exist in normal families, without necessarily requiring a promiscuous mother, an impotent father, or a broken relationship between the parents. Sometimes things happen naturally, and even after they happen, things seem peaceful. Many issues are well concealed beneath the surface of daily life, and normal life continues as usual. I believe each reader has their own standards for judging my experience. As mentioned at the beginning, it's fine to read it casually for entertainment. Also, thank you all again for your support. This is my first time posting on a forum, and I'm indeed inexperienced; please forgive any shortcomings.
As for my writing style, it's been so long since I've written anything seriously that it's really deteriorated, and I'm quite embarrassed about that. I'll try my best to recall the situation and write more delicately, but the most important thing is to maintain authenticity. This story is mainly a plain narrative, so those looking for erotic content might be disappointed. After all, I'm not a professional erotic writer, and since it's about my mother, I simply can't write anything too explicit. Here, I want to thank everyone again for understanding my parents' sex life. Of course, you should also understand their relationship. As mentioned earlier, my dad is a rather old-fashioned person. He's usually quite serious, even strict, at home, so I was always very afraid of him when I was little. After high school, probably because he was busy with work and I was older, he reduced his control over me, and I wasn't as afraid of him anymore. He and my mom often argue over trivial things, and he even hit my mom when I was little. Sometimes watching them argue at home was really annoying, and it even made me afraid of marriage. I feel that my dad is a very chauvinistic man; he always has to be right, but he's not exactly upright either.
I remember playing with my dad's phone when I was in junior high. While scrolling through it, I accidentally clicked on his photo album and was shocked to find pictures of him in hotel rooms. The photos showed a young woman, and some were even selfies of him embracing her in bed. From that moment on, my dad's glamorous image was severely tarnished. My parents' relationship was incredibly strained during that time, probably because of this. I don't know if my mom saw the photos, but my dad's behavior back then definitely seemed like he was cheating. Sometimes he would be secretive when talking on the phone, so it's no wonder my mom noticed. My mom is a rather competitive person, and the more my dad tried to hide it, the more she wanted to know, so they argued almost every day. I felt that my parents' relationship had become somewhat strained since junior high. To understand their relationship, I would occasionally subtly ask my mom about it, sometimes during walks, chatting about everyday things and then steer the conversation towards my dad, saying things like, "Mom, why are you arguing with Dad again?" or "Dad hasn't looked so good lately." Perhaps it's a woman's nature, but once these questions came up, my mom started talking non-stop. Those of you in relationships know that when your woman starts talking, just listen and don't interrupt; you'll hear far more than you originally wanted to know. From my mom, I heard many complaints, seemingly mixed with a lot of helplessness. I remember once during a walk, I brought up the topic of my dad hitting my mom when I was little. My mom seemed quite upset about this, telling me that if she hadn't thought I was too young, she would have divorced my dad, and I wouldn't have known about this whole thing. I laughed and said, "Mom, it seems I've held you back." My mom rolled her eyes at me and said, "You've grown up now; don't ever be like your dad." Seeing that there weren't many people around, I casually put my hand on my mom's shoulder and said, "Of course! I feel like I take after you; I have a really good temper. If I were Dad, I'd love you dearly." My mom smiled slightly at me and said, "You should keep your word." I hugged my mom tighter and said, "See, I'm really taking good care of you now." Mom said, "Then you have to keep it up!" I replied, "I definitely won't let you down." That walk, I walked a long way with my arm around Mom's shoulder, but it was late at night and there weren't many people around, otherwise I would have felt a little awkward. After that first time, whenever we walked together and there weren't many people, I would occasionally put my arm around Mom's shoulder to get closer to her. Soon, this gesture became commonplace, and I felt that our relationship had improved a little. Of course, I was secretly pleased with myself while putting my arm around Mom's shoulder, and at the same time, I was plotting how to gradually encroach on the territory that originally belonged to Dad. The atmosphere during my walks with Mom was always relaxed and pleasant, filled with laughter and conversation. I tried my best to create an atmosphere that Mom didn't experience when she was with Dad at home. Replacing Dad's position in a normal family isn't something that can be achieved through fantasies like being invincible or having superhuman sexual skills. What you need to do is surpass your father and give your mother experiences she didn't have with him. Use your youthful energy and humor to "seduce" her. Unlike other strange men, a son's witty remarks won't put her on guard; instead, she'll enjoy them. Compared to the serious and dull family life, your mother might miss her youth. If you can bring her a feeling of past romance, the effect will be excellent. In middle age, relationships tend to enter a period of calm. Men might not have any needs, but women often crave emotional care. This period of need is actually the time of menopause for women. This time can be said to be the only opportunity for a son in a normal family to win over his mother. To win her over emotionally, I've gone to great lengths to create a so-called romantic atmosphere for her. Every International Women's Day, Mother's Day, and my mother's birthday, I rack my brains to think of gifts, carefully wrap them, and personally write congratulatory messages. My dad naturally wouldn't take care of these things. Even when my mom hinted at holidays, he would just give a perfunctory answer, and it wasn't hard to see a hint of disappointment in her eyes from time to time. This disappointment was my opportunity! Speaking of buying gifts, I remembered something like this: One evening, my dad wasn't home, so after I took a shower, I came out wearing only my underwear. That's when I saw my mom painting her toenails in the living room. Let me clarify, I'm not a foot fetishist, but my mom's beautiful feet did indeed sway me. My mom was wearing shorts, with her feet propped up on the coffee table, carefully painting her black toenails. I went over and sat next to her, pretending to watch TV. My mom noticed I wasn't wearing any clothes and scolded me a bit. I replied casually that I'd put them on after they cooled down, but she ignored me and continued painting her nails. After a while, I picked up my mom's nail polish and said, "Mom, you always use this brand?" She said, "Yes, this brand is good." I said, "Is it really that good?" My mom stopped what she was doing, put her painted foot on the sofa to show me, and said things like, "This color doesn't fade easily." Looking at my mom's beautiful feet, my heart itched. I reached out and touched the instep of her foot, saying, "Mom, your feet are already beautiful, and this nail polish makes them even more gorgeous." My mom looked at me with slight surprise, "You know these things?" I said, "I learned it from those shoe sellers." My mom laughed after hearing that. I immediately said, "Mom, how about I paint them for you? I see you're looking down a lot, it must be tiring." My mom said, "Okay, then paint them carefully for me." I said, "Alright, Mom, can you put your leg over here? It'll be more comfortable if I sit down to paint them, otherwise it'll be tiring for me to squat in front of you." So my mom turned to the side and put her foot on my thigh. Seeing my mother's beautiful feet resting on my thighs, her long, white legs spread out before me, my penis was already starting to get aroused. But it wouldn't be good if my mother noticed, so I squeezed my legs together, suppressing my throbbing erection. At first, my mother instructed me on how to apply the nail polish, but soon she picked up a newspaper to read, leaving me to apply it alone. With the newspaper as cover, I quickly relaxed my legs; my penis had softened after the earlier stimulation. Now, I was applying nail polish with my right hand, while my left hand held my mother's foot. Slowly, my left hand began to move between my mother's toes, occasionally wiggling them, while my right hand occasionally rubbed against the instep of her foot. My penis began to harden again. At that moment, I so wanted my mother to rub her beautiful feet against my penis.
Perhaps I made a bit too much noise, because Mom put down her newspaper and asked if I was done. I said I was just checking to make sure it was applied evenly. Mom leaned forward to check, and my gaze fell on her chest through her neckline. Her breasts seemed even whiter and more alluring after her shower. Just as I was admiring Mom's large, white breasts, she said it was almost done, and to apply a little more. So I quickly applied the last bit, and Mom looked at it with satisfaction. I told my mom I'd take care of painting her nails from now on, and she happily agreed. Then, I took the opportunity to tickle her feet a few times with my left hand, making her quickly pull her foot back. She was clearly amused by this. I said, "I thought you weren't ticklish." While applying the nail polish, she said, "It's alright, my skin is so callous, I'm not that ticklish." So I reached out and tickled her inner thigh a few times, asking, "Are you ticklish here?" She said, "No." My hand slowly moved upwards. Meanwhile, she continued tidying up her things. When she was almost at her trouser leg, she finished, pushed my hand away, and said, "Okay, go wash your hands, the nail polish smells strong." I knew when to stop, made a face at her, and said, "Yes, ma'am!" A few days later, I bought a purple nail polish online and gave it to my mom one evening when my dad wasn't home. My mom immediately asked me why I gave her this. I said I saw it was on sale online and it was cheap, and I thought black nail polish was too plain, so I thought I'd buy you a luxurious purple one. I told her it would look good on her too. My mom was amused by my words and happily accepted it. I took the opportunity to get a hug from her. Some time later, when I came back from boarding school, I found that my mom had already put on the purple nail polish I gave her. I couldn't help but feel a little excited. Looking at my mom's toes in her open-toed high heels, I started fantasizing again. One weekend afternoon when my parents weren't home, I took my mom's high heels and fantasized about her wearing them while I was having sex with her. I also fantasized about her rubbing my penis with her toes, fantasizing about a mother-son foot fetish. That's how I ejaculated for the first time on my mom's high heels. The common tricks in novels, like massaging shoulders and backs, are quite effective in real life. My mom's back has always been a bit sore, and it easily aches on rainy days. My dad never really cared about this. My mom has told my dad several times that she has back pain, but he just gives a perfunctory reply that she should see a doctor and never listens to her complaints. This attitude of his gives me an opportunity to shine. Sometimes, whenever my mom shows signs of back pain, I'll eagerly offer to massage her back. She'll naturally agree, and we'll chat about everyday things while I massage her, strengthening our bond. Sometimes, from my vantage point, I can catch a glimpse of her cleavage; her breasts gently sway as I massage. Sometimes, my erection will intentionally or unintentionally brush against her back, but overall, I try to minimize the groping during massages. After all, the main purpose is to strengthen our bond, and I don't want to lose this opportunity to build affection by trying to get her attention. It wouldn't be worth losing something important for such a small thing. Besides, there are plenty of opportunities to grope her at other times; the key is to be patient.
A few times, my mom asked me to help her apply plasters. She would pull up her shirt to reveal her beautiful back, giving me a legitimate reason to touch her body—it was probably the most intimate contact I'd ever had. Sometimes, I'd even take the opportunity to admire her for a while if I didn't apply the plaster in the right spot, but to be on the safe side, I remained quite well-behaved. The fact that she let me pull up her shirt to apply the plasters without any hesitation suggests that my groping didn't bother her; she seemed to accept my behavior. As mentioned earlier, my mom has a great figure, a mature and alluring charm. As for how she maintains her figure, besides her regular healthy diet and walks, I think it's yoga. My mom became fascinated with yoga when I was in middle school, enrolling in classes for a while but giving up soon after. Then she bought DVDs and watched them at home, learning as she went. And surprisingly, she gradually improved. My mom usually does yoga in the morning; she gets up quite early, and I'm also an early riser. So sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I'll see my mom doing yoga in the living room. I'm sure you're all familiar with yoga; those poses, with chests puffed out and buttocks sticking out, are enough to make your nose bleed. Waking up early with a still-erect erection, watching my mom do yoga, I just couldn't bring myself to go all out. Perhaps a little disappointing is that my mom does it in ordinary pajamas; if she were wearing tight workout clothes like in AVs, I probably would have died from exhaustion long ago. Sometimes when I go to get a drink and pass by my mom doing yoga, I'll stop and watch, occasionally commenting that her movements are quite perfect. A few times, my mom stuck her butt out towards me, and standing behind her, I felt an urge to immediately mount her and thrust into her beautiful buttocks. When my mom does the one-legged stance, I'll mischievously pinch her waist, making her quiver. Since my dad is still asleep at this time of day, we both deliberately keep our voices down, creating an atmosphere that feels like a secret affair, a subtle atmosphere that I really enjoy. In short, morning yoga time also became one of our time for mother-son interaction. By high school, I was already somewhat used to seeing my mom's exposed skin, and I started to feel unsatisfied with this level of visual enjoyment; I wanted a deeper level of voyeurism. At the beginning of high school, I upgraded my phone and got a new one—a 3.2-megapixel camera, which was quite good for those days. So I started thinking about how to make good use of this camera, what to do with it. A camera could cover places that the naked eye couldn't normally see. So I thought of secretly filming my mom changing clothes. Every time my mom came home from work and changed, she would do so in the bathroom, closing the door tightly. To film her changing, I would have to set up my phone inside beforehand. So, during a holiday, I started my plan. In the afternoon, I took my phone into the bathroom to choose an angle. Choosing the right angle was tiring work; I tried several positions before finally settling on the shelf next to the toilet where the shower gel and shampoo were kept. The angle was good and the concealment was decent, so I positioned my phone there and used the bottles and jars to cover it. I tried taking a few shots myself, and seeing that the image quality was pretty good, I settled on a spot and waited for my mom to come home. When she arrived, she was home right on time. I immediately went into the bathroom to turn on the camera, then casually went out to the living room to greet her. My heart was pounding! As she changed her shoes, she habitually lifted her skirt, revealing her fair thighs. This sight made my nose bleed! Hehe, I'll have to see what's under that skirt later. As usual, my mom put down her bag and went into the bathroom to change. I waited anxiously in the living room. To be honest, I was quite nervous. Even though I thought I had hidden the phone very well, I was still afraid of being discovered. Five minutes later, Mom came out. Those were truly the longest five minutes of my life! I immediately went into the bathroom to check my phone—oh, I'd captured it! So I quickly took it back to my room to enjoy it, put on my headphones, and eagerly pressed play. At first, it was empty. Then, when it was time to come home, it recorded my conversation with Mom. Then Mom came in. She didn't notice the phone and started changing. Mom took off her skirt first, and my long-awaited fair legs were finally revealed, along with, of course, my ever-present, alluring buttocks. She was wearing black underwear, which seemed a bit small, and her buttocks were tight and incredibly tempting. Disappointingly, Mom didn't take off her underwear; instead, she put on pajama bottoms. But it was still the first time I'd seen her buttocks covered by underwear. Remembering how I'd briefly touched those beautiful buttocks under those underwear, I secretly swallowed. Then, the exciting moment arrived. My mother took off her top, revealing a black bra that encased her alluring breasts. She then unhooked the bra, and those breasts I'd longed for sprang out—yes, sprang out! It seemed her bra was a bit small; those large, white breasts seemed to revel in their freedom. The papaya-shaped breasts, with their slightly dark nipples, swayed gently as my mother turned. This long-awaited sight was finally mine to witness. My mother quickly put her clothes back on and left the bathroom. That night, watching my mother felt like seeing through something, and I couldn't help but think of the nude photos I'd taken. This short video was incredibly tempting, and it remains a treasured possession. For a while, I practically masturbated while watching it. I filmed a few more times, less carefully concealing myself. Several times, my mother seemed to catch a glimpse of the camera, but she continued changing clothes as usual and didn't say anything afterward. This made me ponder for a long time, and I only found the answer later. wj522 Gold Coins +8 Thanks for sharing! The forum is more exciting with you!

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My Story with My Mom (4)

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