Sexual Mother (1-6)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-13 08:13:15

Word count: 99013.
Please proceed with caution; no offense intended.
1. Extreme cuckolding;
2. Extremely heavy taste;
3. Completely tight-fitting;
4. Those with mysophobia should proceed with caution;
5. Handjob content.
1.
Xiaoming is my neighbor's child. It all started when my mother noticed a strange, indescribable meaning in Xiaoming's gaze. She was familiar with that look; many men had given her similar looks—a lustful gaze, a desire for her body. This
discovery made my mother somewhat uncomfortable, yet simultaneously she felt an unprecedented novelty, a strange joy, and a subtle stirring within her.
This stirring influenced her, driving her to unconsciously want to try certain things.
My mother didn't consider herself a promiscuous woman; she hated the lewd looks men gave her, and she didn't have particularly strong sexual desires or let physical needs control her.
My mother is beautiful; that's an undeniable fact. Proper skincare has shielded her from the cruelty of time. Instead, the passage of time, its nurturing and refinement, has stripped away all superficiality and immaturity, bringing her to the golden age of womanhood.
Although nearing forty, her skin remains smooth and delicate, her face radiant and fair. Entering maturity, unlike younger women who exude positivity, health, and vibrant youth, her fully developed body is graceful and supple, displaying exaggeratedly beautiful curves and perfectly alluring arcs.
Her shape is exquisite, her features full, her figure captivating. Every gesture exudes charm, radiating the aura of a mature woman, emanating a rich, fragrant aroma.
That blossoming beauty seems capable of stealing all the colors from the world.
Coupled with her serious demeanor, arrogant bearing, and fashionable attire, she inspires a sense of awe and inferiority in those who face her, yet simultaneously draws them in, prompting secret glances and uncontrollable fantasies—a strange mix of desires for beauty and excellence, a yearning for possession, and a sense of shame at the perceived gap in status, position, and ability, a feeling of cold distance, a rebellious streak born from humiliation. Where her mother cannot see, he greedily ogles her, fantasizing about pinning her down, stripping her naked, wantonly abusing her, tearing off her haughty mask, and freely playing with her body, watching her moan and groan beneath him like the most wanton prostitute, the lowest bitch, her lips dripping with semen as she shamelessly licks his penis, his vulva being violently penetrated.
Especially when Mom puts on her perfectly tailored, high-quality clothes and uniforms—suits, shirts, skirt suits, trousers, and flesh-colored, black, and colorful stockings and pantyhose—her mature womanly body becomes almost irresistibly alluring. Her large, high breasts press tightly against her clothes, as if they're about to burst out. At 176cm, Mom is very tall, and in heels, she's over 180cm. Wearing a skirt suit and stockings, her long, shapely legs encased in various stockings, along with the smooth, glossy texture of the stockings, are dazzlingly eye-catching. It instantly dilates the pupils, making one's gaze hot and burning, and causing one's mouth to go dry.
Noble, dignified, beautiful, confident, calm, polite, and with a noticeable coldness and aloofness tinged with formality—this is the impression everyone who knows my mother has.
Monotonous, day after day, this is always how she appears in public.
My mother always believed her life would continue like this, dull, monotonous, repetitive, and peaceful, until she died of old age, without any change, without any particular impulses. However, the neighbor's child's gaze acted like a catalyst, inexplicably amplifying what was initially a subtle restlessness into a terrifying virus that spread like wildfire, instantly staining her soul with a strange hue, filling every thought in her mind.
Finally, it became an increasingly uncontrollable urge to desecrate morality and taste taboos.
Perhaps this urge had always been there, but she had deliberately ignored it, unwilling to confront it directly. Once ignited, it could no longer be suppressed or hidden, erupting irresistibly.
Compared to the filthy, worldly-weary men, the little boy, overcome with desire yet flustered and fearful, could only dart about, his furtive glances and embarrassed yet innocent gaze, as pure as the bluest sky, were so heartbreaking and endearing. And after that heartbreak and tenderness, one couldn't help but want to soothe and capture that purity, to ravage its allure.
That restlessness stirred and seduced the mother. She didn't really want to resist; deep down, she secretly craved reckless boldness and abandon.
Reason could no longer guide or help her. She couldn't think any further, didn't want to think any further, didn't want to think about all the things she had to consider. So she did it.
2.
One day, returning home from work, the mother saw Xiaoming, who had just come home from school, at the door and invited him inside. Xiaoming, who had feelings for her and was simply unable to resist the temptation of her presence, naturally agreed with delight.
As I entered the house, I saw my father and I were home. In the living room, I was doing my homework at the coffee table, while my father sat on the sofa reading the newspaper, casually placing his bag on the shoe cabinet next to the door
. My mother closed the door and looked at Xiaoming. Confused and feeling guilty, Xiaoming panicked under his mother's gaze, avoiding her eye contact and instinctively turning his head away.
Instead of going further inside, she reached out and pulled Xiaoming's hand towards her, guiding it towards her lower body, between her legs—a black suit jacket and black trousers, the standard fashionable and proud attire of a modern woman.
His palm pressed against her crotch, feeling the full, alluring shape, the elasticity, and the slight warmth of her genitals. My
mother, who had just entered the house, was right there in the doorway, pulling Xiaoming's hand to her genitals through her trousers.
The slightly rough fabric of the trousers brushed against his fingertips, and he could clearly feel the outline and shape of his mother's underwear beneath them.
Xiao Ming was stunned, completely drunk, his throat dry, swallowing hard, unable to speak.
His mother guided his hand, moving it slowly across his genitals through his trousers, letting him feel the shape of his own genitals.
"A-Auntie..."
"Shh!"
His mother put her index finger to her lips, signaling Xiao Ming to be quiet.
No need for further thought or words, Xiao Ming understood. For conscious men and women, such things don't need explanation; actions and signals suffice.
She pulled Xiao Ming closer, pressing him against her.
Mom lifted the hem of her shirt, slightly tightening her lower abdomen to loosen her belt a little. She then took Xiaoming's hand and slipped it under her waistband, into her crotch. His
hand slid down her smooth abdomen towards her crotch. The smooth, rounded skin made Xiaoming tremble and feel intoxicated. Without his mother's prompting, he began to move his hand and wiggle his fingers.
His palm touched a thick, lush patch of hair—his mother's pubic hair.
His fingertips felt the two plump, full labia majora. His fingertips probed between the labia majora, feeling the deep groove and the small protrusion above, as well as the two warm, tender openings. His fingertips explored further into the wet opening, feeling the moisture on his fingers.
His hand slipped vertically between his mother's legs, above her belt, and pressed his entire palm against her genitals, kneading her vulva like dough. His
mother glanced back at the living room—he was still quietly doing his homework, and his father was still quietly reading the newspaper, oblivious to everything.
She gently withdrew his hand from her crotch—his fingertips were wet, a glistening liquid glistening on them. His mother bent slightly, bringing his fingers to her rosy lips, parting her teeth slightly, and gently licking and sucking them. She whispered in his ear,
"Want to see…?"
Xiaoming nodded vigorously, as if afraid that if he didn't express himself fully, he would be misunderstood as not wanting to see it.
He opened his own pants, grasped his zipper, and gently pulled it down, revealing his mother's sexy, bright red lace panties.
He used his hands to spread the sides of his mother's pants apart, hooking his fingers around the hem of her underwear and pulling it slightly to loosen the tight fabric. He then parted the underwear to reveal a small portion of his mother's vulva.
Due to the clothing and lighting, it wasn't very clear, but he could still clearly feel the beautiful shape of the exposed part of her vulva and the thick, long, dark pubic hair.
"Just looking? You can touch it..."
His mother's sweet voice resonated in the little boy's ears. Trembling, Xiaoming reached out and touched the opening of his mother's pants, pinching her pubic hair and gently twisting it.
His mother adjusted her position, loosening her belt a few notches, letting her pants slide down slightly, allowing the crotch opening to reveal her entire vulva to Xiaoming. She leaned back slightly, using some force to thrust her lower body upwards, pinching the sides of the crotch opening and spreading the underwear and labia majora apart, thus revealing her entire vulva to Xiaoming without any obstruction.
Her pubic hair was thick and abundant, jet black and long. Her plump, full labia majora were wide open, her clitoris, like a tiny bean, stood delicately erect. Her labia minora were rolled outwards, the rosy opening revealing itself openly, seemingly beckoning him to enter.
Was it emotion? Or excitement? Or uncontrollable nervousness?
Xiaoming's legs went weak and bent forward. If he hadn't been leaning against his mother's legs, he probably would have already knelt on the ground.
Xiaoming leaned forward, hugging his mother's thighs like a pillar, pressing his entire body against her legs, pulling them towards him, burying his face between her legs.
His nose touched his mother's mons pubis, his lips pressed against her vulva.
Xiao Ming inhaled deeply, inhaling the lewd and pungent scent of his mother's vulva. He pressed his mouth against her genitals, biting and sucking, his tongue licking her labia, savoring the taste.
3.
My father and I were completely unaware of what was happening here. We didn't look over, and even if we had, since my mother had her back to us, we probably wouldn't have seen anything unless we were right next to her. And ultimately, it wasn't a very convenient place. My mother quickly pushed away the boy, lost in his lustful impulses, zipped up her pants, pulled up her waistband, straightened herself, and regained her previous aloof and unapproachable demeanor as a sophisticated urban woman.
Seeing the boy's slightly reluctant, confused, and aggrieved expression, my mother glanced back, pulled him back, pointed to the living room, then to my father and me, and smiled faintly, saying,
"Don't worry... we have plenty of time..."
4.
As we led Xiaoming into the living room, my father and I were completely unaware that just minutes before, right in front of us, right before our very eyes, my mother had allowed the little boy to freely play with her genitals.
After greeting my father and me, my mother, my father, Xiaoming, and I sat in the living room and chatted for a while.
If you were paying attention, you could easily sense the strange atmosphere between Xiaoming and my mother. My mother was alright; after all, she's an adult and good at hiding her expressions and emotions. But Xiaoming was less able to process this sudden shock and surprise, and then the abrupt interruption before he could fully enjoy himself. He couldn't adjust to these dramatic contrasts. In front of my father and me, whether facing me or my mother, his expression was uncontrollably strange and unnatural. His gaze kept involuntarily drifting towards my mother, especially her genitals and buttocks.
But my father and I didn't think much of it; my father wouldn't have thought much of it.
My mother told my dad and me that Xiaoming was staying for dinner and called his parents to let us know. Then she took Xiaoming to the kitchen.
Just as they passed the corner between the living room and kitchen, and the wall blocked our view, my mother stopped, pushed Xiaoming against the wall, pulled down his pants below his knees, exposing his penis. It was small, immature, and barely bigger than my thumb; it hadn't even grown pubic hair yet, but it was already erect.
Holding Xiaoming's penis was like holding a baby bird; my mother easily grasped it completely with one hand.
Compared to my mother's palm, her slender hands, when masturbating Xiaoming, were like manipulating a thin tube.
My mother squatted down, brought her face close to Xiaoming's genitals, opened her mouth to his penis, and took it in, effortlessly swallowing his penis and scrotum together, beginning to perform oral sex on him.
After Mom squatted down, the corner of the wall didn't completely block the view from the living room. If Dad and I looked over, we could see half of Mom's squatting body. If we tilted our heads slightly, we could see her completely kneeling in front of the little boy, diligently serving his genitals, sucking his penis.
But we didn't get that chance. The unprecedented stimulation made the little boy ejaculate instantly. In less than a minute, Xiaoming couldn't help but ejaculate. His penis twitched and trembled in Mom's mouth, and the semen was completely shot into her mouth. Mom tilted her head back, slightly sticking out her tongue, letting Xiaoming see the semen he had shot into her mouth. Then she licked her lips with her tongue, and finally swallowed it, her throat bobbing as she swallowed
all of Xiaoming's semen. The air began to fill with the pungent smell of semen. Fortunately, the amount of semen was not much, and it wasn't too pungent, otherwise Dad and I would definitely have smelled something was wrong.
Using her tongue, she cleaned the remaining semen from Xiaoming's glans, pulled his pants back up, and quickly stood up, taking Xiaoming to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
5.
While in the kitchen, Xiaoming wasn't idle. As his mother cooked, washed, chopped, and prepared the dishes, he stayed close to her, fondling her body. He unbuckled her belt, pulled her pants and underwear down to her knees, exposing her genitals, leaving her completely naked. Then he teased her genitals—touching her thighs, her buttocks, playing with her vagina and pubic hair, and rubbing his penis against her body.
Because of the worktop separating them, from the living room looking into the kitchen, you could only see Mom's upper body, seemingly busy chopping vegetables. Unbeknownst to them, behind the worktop, Mom's lower body was completely naked, allowing a young boy's hands to roam freely over her genitals, playing with them at will.
To satisfy the boy, she even adjusted her position, actively cooperating with his movements, allowing him to better and more easily observe her genitals, kiss her vulva, manipulate her labia, tease her clitoris, and knead her buttocks.
If Dad and I had entered the kitchen at that moment, we would have seen Mom shamelessly allowing a child younger than her son to play with her so wantonly and degradingly. But we didn't. Dad and I passed through the kitchen, but neither of us went inside.
When Mom finished making dinner and came out of the kitchen with Xiaoming, Xiaoming was already extremely familiar with Mom's genitals. In just over an hour since the incident began, he had kissed and licked her vagina countless times, spread her labia countless times, admired them countless times, and played with them countless times. While
eating at the small square table, Xiaoming and I sat facing each other at opposite ends, while Dad and Mom sat facing each other at opposite ends. Dad
and I chatted enthusiastically about the interesting things that had happened that day, and Mom joined in with a smile. We didn't ignore Xiaoming and tried to talk to him, but he only gave strange, hesitant responses and didn't say anything more.
The atmosphere seemed very lively, but Xiaoming felt unable to engage. Although he had already enjoyed himself immensely, the alluring image of Mom's genitals kept swirling and echoing in his mind. Was it because it was the first time? Because he had never experienced it before? Was it a case of "tasting the sweetness"?
He couldn't help but want to keep doing it for another minute.
Thinking of all this, he couldn't help but glance at his mother. But at that moment—he felt like rubbing his eyes; he simply couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Good heavens, what was he seeing?
The woman's zipper was down, the crotch wide open, her bright red, sexy lace panties pulled aside, long, thick pubic hair peeking out. Looking down, he could clearly see her plump mons pubis, smooth skin, and the beautiful shape of half her vulva.
When did she do this?
When did she get herself into this state?
Sensing the boy's gaze and shocked expression, the woman smiled slightly at him, seemingly deliberately asking,
"What's wrong, Xiaoming…"
"N-nothing…"
He felt an unprecedented dryness in his throat. Although he had experienced excitement and stimulation before, looking at me sitting opposite him and his father sitting to his left, for some reason, none of those experiences had felt as impactful and stimulating as this.
Her husband and son were sitting right next to her, at this small square table less than a meter or two away. If they even slightly shifted their gaze, they could see her genitals, her shamelessly exposed and exposed genitals.
Wasn't she afraid of being discovered?
How dare she do this?
Sensing the boy's gaze, as if afraid he wasn't seeing clearly enough, the woman's left hand had somehow moved under the table, to her crotch area, teasing the opening of her pants, making it open wider, exposing her genitals and genitals even more to the boy. My
father and I seemed to sense the strange look on Xiaoming's face and couldn't help but look over—oh no, they'll be discovered.
Xiao Ming thought this, but then he noticed that the moment his father and I looked over, his mother, sitting in the chair, involuntarily leaned forward slightly. This lean, along with the table, effectively blocked our view. When his father and I looked away, his mother had returned to her original position, sitting with her genitals exposed.
So that's how it was. It seemed like a violent shock had occurred. Looking at his mother's smiling face, Xiao Ming felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity.
Looking at his father and me, completely unaware of his mother's current state, still chatting happily with her, and
seeing his mother's shamelessly exposed genitals and my father and me, all smiling so naturally, Xiao Ming felt a strange, unprecedented surge of emotion.
He felt a strange, almost trembling thrill and excitement, along with an equally strange anticipation and impulse.
It seemed as if Mom's exposed genitals were beckoning to Dad and me, beckoning us to look over, to look over! Or to come closer, and we'd see your mom's pussy, your wife's pussy, your mom's pussy, your wife's pussy shamelessly exposed like the lowest bitch, you'd see your mom and your wife's lewd and despicable appearance!
Xiaoming even had an impulse to recklessly move the table aside, to let Dad and me see Mom's lewd and despicable appearance, to expose Mom like this to Dad and me.
But in the end, Xiaoming didn't dare.
He felt a hand reach under the table, press against his crotch, and gently rub it.
Without much thought, Xiaoming knew it was his mother's hand. He looked at her, but she didn't look back, as if the hand wasn't hers at all. She remained expressionless, continuing to talk to me and Dad without the slightest discomfort. If it weren't for the fact that the hand was actually inside her pants, masturbating her, Xiaoming would almost have thought it was just a figment of his imagination.
Xiaoming lowered his hand and reached under the table towards his mother's crotch, slipping it inside and beginning to play with her vulva.
His mother slightly parted her legs, which had been closed, to make it easier for Xiaoming's hand to slip between them. And so, using the visual separation created by their physical proximity, at this small square table less than a meter long, so close to me and Dad, Mom and Xiaoming spread their legs wide, allowing each other to masturbate.
For a while afterward, Mom even loosened her belt and pulled her pants down to her knees, completely exposing her lower body as she sat on the chair, calmly and composedly talking to Dad and me.
If my dad and I had looked over, we could have clearly seen the entire shape of my mom's vulva below her smooth abdomen. But she quickly pulled her pants up again, and neither of us noticed.
Her movements were slow and careful; if my dad and I hadn't seen it, we wouldn't have noticed anything amiss. We had no idea that in those few minutes, she had exposed her genitals and genitals right before our eyes.
After dinner, my mom started clearing the table. While my dad and I were lazily resting on the sofa to digest, she took Xiaoming into the bathroom. She closed and locked the bathroom door.
Inside, she finally stripped herself completely naked, facing Xiaoming. Then she stripped Xiaoming naked as well, and they stood face to face, embracing each other like octopuses.
The mother guided Xiaoming's hands to caress her genitals, posing in various alluring ways for him: standing straight with legs spread apart to let Xiaoming admire her vulva; bending over and sticking her big buttocks out at Xiaoming, forcefully spreading them apart so he could lick her anus; or sticking her buttocks out at Xiaoming with her legs together, letting him see her two labia majora pressed between her legs, revealing a plump and lewd appearance.
Compared to his mother, who is 176cm tall and of adult build, Xiaoming is incredibly small and frail. Standing face-to-face, he doesn't even reach his mother's shoulder. When they hug, his face is just about touching her chest, and his erect penis only reaches the middle of her thighs. Without his mother's cooperation, he simply cannot reach her vulva. In comparison, his mother's size and torso suddenly seem enormous. Being embraced by his mother face-to-face is like a giantess cuddling a tiny toy doll in a tender embrace.
Finally, his mother cooperates, bending over and slightly bending her knees to lower her height, allowing Xiaoming's genitals to touch her buttocks so he can rub his penis against her.
She reaches behind her, presses her labia majora, and forcefully spreads them apart, revealing her vaginal opening to Xiaoming, indicating that he should insert his penis there.
With his penis erect and supporting his mother's buttocks, Xiaoming aimed his small penis at her vulva and inserted it into her opening.
The small penis, along with the glans, easily slid completely into her vagina.
Pushing and pulling, withdrawing and thrusting, Xiaoming knew exactly what to do without needing instruction.
His breathing became rapid, his panting heavier. Supporting his mother's buttocks, Xiaoming's penis began to thrust in and out of her vagina rapidly.
It was hard to describe the sensation; his mother's vulva was wet, and vaginal fluid was overflowing. However, compared to his mother's fully mature genitals, Xiaoming's penis was still too small and delicate. Even without the lubrication of vaginal fluid, even though his mother's vagina hadn't been used frequently and had become loose, Xiaoming's penis moved in and out of her vagina effortlessly and without resistance. Even his small scrotum was completely inserted into her vagina due to Xiaoming's movements.
The small penis didn't bring the mother much physical pleasure; it was more of a psychological, ethically taboo-inducing stimulation and excitement. Thinking of this boy, even smaller than her own son, his once pure and innocent soul and body, untouched by the world's filth, his tender and immature penis, seduced by her wanton body, now thrusting into her filthy, rotten vagina—a vagina that had been with countless men, used and enjoyed by countless men—tempted and stimulated by her own vagina, unable to resist the frenzy and impulse, riding her, passionately thrusting and enjoying her rotten vagina, she felt a strange, inexplicable stimulation, as if she were desecrating something. Because of
Xiaoming's height, this mating position was quite difficult, so the mother finally made Xiaoming stop, then stood up, walked to the edge of the bathtub, sat on the edge, spread her legs, exposing her vulva, and called Xiaoming over to re-enter.
This time, it was just the right height for Xiaoming.
He pressed his body against his mother's vulva, his penis once again inside her. He embraced her, his hands reaching behind her to hold her large buttocks. Pulling his lower body, he thrust his penis in and out again. His
mother's large, fleshy vagina gripped him like a gaping maw, completely engulfing his penis and scrotum.
Soon, Xiaoming ejaculated, his semen filling his mother's vulva.
His penis, now completely limp, remained inside her. Naked, Xiaoming clung tightly to his equally naked mother, his strength so great it seemed he wanted their bodies to remain connected forever, unwilling to let go.
Finally, his mother allowed him to get up and pull his penis out of her.
Mom didn't have an orgasm, it was neither here nor there, but she didn't seem to care. Her slender hand touched her vulva, which was still stained with the boy's semen, then she looked at it. Next, in front of Xiaoming, she licked the filth off her hand and swallowed it. Without even washing her vulva, Mom and Xiaoming put their clothes back on, tidied themselves up in front of the mirror, and then opened the bathroom door, leading Xiaoming out as if nothing had happened. Just
like before, Dad and I, still lazily sitting on the sofa, had no idea that just a few minutes earlier, Mom and Xiaoming had been indulging in a lewd and wanton act in our bathroom.
After dropping Xiaoming off at his door, Mom kissed his forehead and smiled sweetly:
"Remember to come visit Auntie next time..."
7.
From then on, Xiaoming frequently visited our house, playing various erotic games with Mom right under Dad's and my noses.
Everywhere in my house—the entryway, living room, balcony, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom—has bore the marks of Xiaoming's semen, and the traces of his and my mother's passionate play.
When my father and I are not home, the house becomes a paradise for my mother and Xiaoming. When it's just the two of them, they play even more intensely and openly, completely naked, throwing their clothes on the floor and moving around the house like that, always glued together, always wanting to touch each other's bodies whenever they please.
No matter where they are at home, whenever he wants, Xiaoming can immediately get his mother into a certain position, spread her vulva, and have sex with her. Whenever it's just the two of them, Xiaoming will insist that his mother not wear any clothes. Even when his mother is busy, has work to do, or has documents to read, she will be completely naked. While she is reading the documents, Xiaoming will put his hand on her genitals, play with her pubic hair, spread her vulva, and play with her labia.
Sometimes, when Mom gets aroused, she'll run naked to the French windows, press her genitals against the glass, and project the shape of her genitals onto the surface. Below the window is the community garden, and further out is a busy community road. My apartment is only on the sixth floor, so anyone looking out can clearly see what's in front of the window.
However, this happens relatively rarely, and Mom's actions are brief, as she still has her reservations.
Mom and Xiaoming don't just play at my house; they often play at Xiaoming's house or outside.
Sometimes Mom will use tutoring as an excuse to go to Xiaoming's house, where she will masturbate and give him oral sex, and have sex with him, even in front of Xiaoming's parents. She often does this under the guise of having something to hide
—like sitting at a table and letting the table obscure her movements, or hiding under the table—
just in front of Xiaoming's parents.
Sometimes, Mom would take Xiaoming to the stairwell or rooftop, pull down her pants, and expose her buttocks to him, letting him penetrate her vagina and have sex with her.
Mom would also take Xiaoming to the street, where she would masturbate him, give him oral sex, and even have sex with him. She would make him watch as she walked up to a random man she met on the street, grab his hand and press it against her genitals, letting him rub her vulva through her pants. Or she would make him watch as she walked up to a random man, unzipped her pants, pulled down her underwear, and exposed her vulva and genitals to a stranger, then quickly run away with Xiaoming before the man could take advantage of her
.
White, tight-fitting trousers and a white, fitted shirt were stretched taut by her mature, alluring body. The fabric, which appeared fairly thick, became semi-transparent. The trousers, a pure and striking white without a single blemish, were clearly made of high-quality material, reflecting a subtle sheen. They were incredibly elastic; when pinched and pulled, they felt as smooth and supple as stockings
. The shape and size were perfectly tailored, fitting her body flawlessly, clinging to her lower body without a single gap. Every shape and line of her lower body was outlined without exception. The fabric between her legs was stretched taut, exaggeratedly bulging and stretched, at the crotch area.
Her mons pubis, swollen and bulging like a small hill, and her vulva, plump and swollen like a small steamed bun, were completely exposed. The triangle area between her legs was tightly bound by her leggings, revealing the full and alluring shape of her entire lower body. Her genitals and the shape of her vulva were all clearly visible.
Through the bulging, stretched fabric, her bright red, sexy panties were shamelessly and clearly displayed, with a large, thick patch of dark hair clearly visible on them, creating a stark contrast between the bright red of the panties and the white of the leggings. The panties couldn't completely conceal the strands of pubic hair that peeked out from the edges like the tips of hairs, all clearly visible.
Was Mom going out dressed like this again today?
Although it wasn't the first time, every time I saw Mom dressed like this, I couldn't help but be tempted by her, feeling my mouth dry and my whole body hot.
"What's wrong, Wenwen?"
Sensing my unease as I sat at the table, my mother, after placing breakfast on the table, approached me with genuine concern.
"N-nothing," she asked.
My 176cm tall mother stood beside me. Looking down, I could see her alluring lower body swaying before me, almost within reach. Beneath the semi-transparent fabric of her crotch,
I could clearly see her bright red panties and the dark shadow of her vulva covered by thick, bushy pubic hair
. Her tempting area was right in front of me, its fullness, curves, and shape so alluring that if I leaned forward even slightly, I could easily press my face against it, feeling its full, seductive shape, its elasticity, and its captivating scent.
My mother, so close, I wanted to pounce on her, hug her, press my face against her crotch, smell her scent, feel her breath, and gnaw on her vulva. It was so close, so easy, so easy that I could just turn around and do it, make it happen.
But I didn't dare; it was just a fantasy.
"You must tell Mommy anything, okay? Mommy loves you."
She gently kissed my cheek, then turned and walked back to the kitchen. Her large, plump buttocks, tightly encased in her tight pants, swayed and trembled with each step she took in her high heels. Every movement was a seductive, sensual act, captivating my gaze, making me greedily stare, imagining myself pointing my penis at those large buttocks, inserting it between them…
2.
Did my mother really not know that I had become so strange because of her? Even though I was only 13, she always seemed to think I was still just a child. But did she really believe that? Am I still a child?
It's a normal, heartwarming parent-child scene. That beautiful face, it seems, has always been so gentle and caring since I was little, even now it's no different from before. Yet, looking at that face, so unchanged, with that same expression, I feel a strange sense of unfamiliarity.
When did it begin?
The mother I remember, the high-ranking executive in a private company, has always been so aloof and elegant, cold and unapproachable, inspiring both desire and awe. My mother is a great beauty; words like "beautiful woman" are probably used to describe her. Especially her mature and beautiful body, an irresistible poison for men.
Wearing tight clothes, stockings, and high heels, when my mother bends over, her large buttocks are prominently displayed.
Under the tight skirt and pants, the beautiful shape of her buttocks is clearly visible.
My mother's figure, in one word, is perfect. It wasn't the refined perfection of the past, but a perfection brimming with maturity, provocation, and allure.
Every part of her body, every organ, seemed fully developed, displaying a stunningly full
shape without being excessive. These parts combined to create her alluring figure and captivating charm; every part seemed to ripple with seductive allure, brimming with springtime passion. My mother
was the kind of woman who would make any man lose his mind at first sight, wanting nothing more than to sleep with her, to pin her down and fuck her hard.
My mother's genitals were very full, which was evident when she wore tight pants.
When the leggings clung tightly to Mom's lower body, without a single gap, their entire shape was outlined without exception. Between her legs, one could clearly see her plump mons pubis, stretched taut by the highly elastic fabric of the leggings, bulging like an alluring little hill below her abdomen. Between her thighs, the leggings constricted tightly, her vulva bulging like a plump steamed bun, displaying a full and luscious beauty.
This wasn't obesity, nor was it plumpness; rather, it was a stunning beauty of a woman's body, matured to its fullest potential, its breathtaking shape and lines stirring the most primal and instinctive reproductive desires—a perfectly balanced fullness. A mother's genitals are practically the best sex toy for men. When men see a mother like this, their gazes can't help but first slide over her high, full breasts and then down to between her legs, imagining
her large breasts and the shape of her vulva tightly wrapped in the textured fabric of her tight pants
. They imagine her big buttocks, the shape of her vulva, her plump, full vulva, and her thick labia.
They imagine themselves grabbing and kneading their mother's breasts, their penis pressing against her thick labia, their lower body rubbing against her plump vulva, imagining their engorged, menacing glans forcing its way in through her tightly closed, thick labia, the entire penis disappearing into her plump vulva.
Imagine yourself parting your mother's thick labia, pressing your genitals against hers, erecting your penis and pressing it deeply against her vulva. Use your body contact to squeeze your penis vertically between her two thick labia, pressing against her vulva so that her labia clamp your penis like a sausage.
Imagine your mother's thick labia gripping your penis, sliding back and forth, imagining your penis swelling and bulging alarmingly in the thick, soft sensation of her labia, like a worm squeezing and wriggling between her labia, with thick semen continuously gushing out at the point of contact between your genitals.
3.
As a child, I simply loved and admired my mother's gentleness and beauty, liking to be close to her, without any complicated or superfluous thoughts.
However, I don't know when it started, but my feelings for my mother began to change.
Lust and sex, the animalistic instincts of living beings, the need for reproduction, the wild animal's instincts—no matter how ignorant a creature may be in its youth, as life progresses, it will eventually come into contact with these things, entering the adult world.
Gradually growing up, gradually developing, physiological urges arise, and psychological restlessness arises. They begin to consciously pay attention to and pursue adult elements, like an innocent child driven by desire into a mysterious, new, yet alluring world, irresistibly indulging and being seduced. In
the information age, through the internet, through adult websites, through the sharing of adult resources, through communication between people, through pornography, through adult films, children learn and know a lot. They
also have desires and longings.
But this is only a kind of understanding through sight and hearing, a kind of knowledge, a desire for females, a desire for women, a desire to have sex with women, a physiological impulse and physiological reaction.
However, no matter what desires and longings they have, the reality is that these children are still children in their own world.
Children, and groups lacking autonomy, are left to be cared for and have decisions made for by others, living in a world defined by adults.
Children may learn about women's bodies and sex through pornographic images and adult films, imagining things, fantasizing about scenes and scenarios, but that's not reality. Reality, for children living in their own world, is like another dimension—secret, private, mysterious, and unattainable.
The adult world has no real limitations, yet no matter how much they know, understand, or desire, children are children, and adults are adults. This distinction separates the worlds of children and adults like a mirror, clearly defined.
What is commonplace, ubiquitous, and easily occurring in the adult world is, in the eyes of children, as distant as legend, utterly inaccessible.
An image is an image, a movie is a movie—they're just video data. A story is a story, a movie plot is a movie plot. It's not reality, and we can't access reality. Without access to reality, they can't imagine the adult world, its real existence. The stimulation of desire, the physiological urges—instinct drives children to crave real behavior and real scenes.
Children want to access reality, to peek into reality. Unable to access reality, the women close to them—mothers, teachers, aunts, etc.—naturally become objects of their voyeurism, exploration, fantasy, and fantasies.
The same applies to myself, also a child.
4.
I become like those men, my gaze towards my mother begins to flicker, furtively, secretly, afraid to look her in the eye. When our eyes meet, I can't help but avoid and dodge, then I peek at her body when she's not looking.
My body begins to feel urges, my penis begins to erect, this physiological agitation makes me crave women, crave to have sex with women, begin to fantasize about having sex with women, and begin to understand masturbation.
Humans develop thought, evolving from beasts into humans. Before being human, humans are first beasts, possessing animalistic instincts and desires. A mother is first a woman, then a mother; a beautiful mother is first a beautiful woman, then a beautiful mother. This
animalistic nature gives men an innate desire for beautiful women, even their own mothers.
During my first ejaculation, I fantasized about my mother's vulva, and the woman I imagined penetrating was my mother.
I began to enjoy spying on my mother and her clothes,
greedily observing her body when she wasn't looking. Her face began
to overlap with the faces of women in the AV videos I had watched and fantasized about. I fantasized about her body, imagining how those clothes would look on her, fantasizing about making love to her, pinning her down and thrusting into her hard.
I always thought my mother was cold.
Perhaps due to her own abilities, the nature of her work, and her long-term position, my mother's excellence, her authority, and her superior social status created a sense of disparity within her that, while unintentional and unpretentious, was still chillingly intimidating to most people.
My mother's personality meant she rarely smiled; her face was mostly calm, even indifferent. Her expressions and actions always seemed merely polite and formulaic. Even when she smiled or was courteous, there was always a clear and profound distance—not distant, but so distinct that it made people feel awkward and frozen. This feeling remained the same even when she was with my father and me; she was just as unsmiling and calm as she was with everyone else.
This stark sense of real disparity and cold, distant attitude often instilled awe in those who faced her. Men who met her gaze often felt a sudden tremor, perhaps out of guilt or self-consciousness, and retreated involuntarily.
However, the mother's alluring and captivating body, with its maturely developed organs, always immediately grabs men's attention, drawing them in unconsciously. Her full and seductive shape is an irresistible poison, constantly teasing male urges and stimulating the primal instincts within them. It makes men's fantasies and desires surge uncontrollably, driving them to commit crimes, to violate, to abuse, to possess her. They are irresistibly drawn to the forbidden and sinful path of ultimate pleasure, step by step, into depravity. Her face is
as sacred as an angel, inspiring awe and hesitation, while her body is as alluring as a devil, irresistibly drawing them closer and making them addicted.
This mother inspires awe in men, yet when she is not around, they secretly stalk her, their eyes filled with greedy lust.
At work, in front of colleagues and clients, my mother's attitude is one of seriously fulfilling her job responsibilities. At home, with my father and me, she seems to be simply fulfilling her duties as a mother and wife.
Sometimes I even wonder if my mother is naturally aloof? Is she the kind of naturally cold personality described in books?
But this doesn't diminish my love for her.
My father isn't particularly handsome, but he has a very scholarly air, is gentle and refined, and has a charming demeanor. He's the scholar type, and he truly lives up to that. He's very knowledgeable, has a calm and magnanimous personality, and speaks with elegance and refinement. He works in technical research on metal processing and applications, the kind of talent laboratories crave.
My father is like a calm lake on the ground, its depths unfathomable; my mother is like the bright, immaculate moon hanging in the sky.
A gentle, learned, and composed husband; a beautiful and outstanding wife, somewhat plain, even calm; and a young, innocent, shy, and obedient child.
Although they seem polite to the point of being overly formal, this is a happy family.
5.
Everyone has impulses, but I always thought my mother was genuinely indifferent, not pretending. When I fantasize about my mother, I can't even imagine her aroused expression. Sometimes I even wonder, does my mother also have physical needs? Do my mother and father really have sex? Does my mother really moan when she has sex with my father?
My mother is also a person; she has her own physical needs, right?
What does my mother do when she has impulses?
Does she seek help from my father? Does she have sex with my father? Or with a man I don't know? Lying beneath that man, spreading her legs, opening her vulva, and protruding her genitals, letting the man enjoy and penetrate her to his heart's content? Or does she use some tools? Like an electric vibrator, to masturbate?
The thought of my mother having sex with my father, or with another man, of being brutally penetrated by him or another man, makes my penis involuntarily hard, engorged, swollen, and painfully swollen.
I started thinking of ways to spy on my mother's body, to peep at her showering, to peep at her changing clothes.
However, this was incredibly difficult, there was simply no chance of it. In adult videos, when women shower or change clothes, the bathroom or bedroom door can be left open, and the person being spied on acts as if they don't know anything. In real life, this is obviously not the case. My mother's bathroom or bedroom door is always closed when she showers or changes clothes. Besides, even if it could be opened, how could I have the courage to peep and guarantee that I wouldn't be discovered?
Yes, I couldn't peep at my mother showering or changing clothes, but I could peep at my mother in her daily life.
My mother's clothes were all very tight, that was true. Although it wasn't because of the clothes themselves, it was because of her incredibly voluptuous figure. Even though they were tailored to fit perfectly, when she wore them, her enormous body bulged them, creating an extremely full and shapely silhouette.
Watching my mother move around in those uniforms, stockings, tight-fitting clothes, skirts, and pants, especially when she stood up or bent over, her stunning body clung tightly to the high-quality, elastic fabric, outlining every part of her body, every organ, and the shape of her genitals, was clearly visible.
Seeing my mother like that was enough to ignite an uncontrollable urge within me. My heart pounded as if it would burst from my chest, and I felt an irresistible urge to rush up and knead her breasts, caress her large buttocks, and bury my face between her thighs, breathing in and feeling the scent of her vulva.
There's one thing that's easy to do in AVs, and I've learned it myself—masturbating with my mother's worn stockings and underwear.
Those smooth, soft, delicate stockings and lace, gliding over my hands, brought a strange shiver. I imagined them on my mother's long legs and genitals, covering her legs and vulva all day long, filled with the scent of her legs and genitals. Smelling those scents, imagining them covering her body, filled me with inexplicable excitement and desire. I also enjoyed looking at the parts of my mother's underwear that she wore, covered in yellowish discharge. If I could find one or two of her pubic hairs, just thinking about them gave me unprecedented excitement and stimulation.
I loved fantasizing about my mother; a certain burning desire always drove me uncontrollably to fantasize about her, to have sex with her, to have her with me or someone else, with one person or many.
I fantasize about my mother being repeatedly violated by myself or many others, being raped, gang-raped, and having group sex, with one or countless penises constantly penetrating her vagina, mouth, and anus, taking turns thrusting in and out of her body.
6.
Sometimes I feel very resentful when I think about it.
As children, things like sex are rarely in our field of vision. As children, we have neither the conditions nor the ability to access such elements.
The adult world has no real boundaries, but as children, because we are still children, we need to live in the world defined by adults. We don't have the ability to go out and experience more things, and we don't have many choices.
Just because we are children, sex, something that is as commonplace in the adult world as greetings or hellos, is rare and unprecedented for us. Just because we are children, things that are as ordinary in the adult world as eating or drinking are full of stimulation and temptation for us.
These things excite and entice us, things we desperately pursue and desire, yet they always exist in places we cannot see or touch, unattainable, even unimaginable. They are things we can only look at with envy, things we can only imagine—strange and private existences.
Simply because we are children, these things, so easily and cheaply obtained in the adult world, become treasures in our eyes, rare and valued above all else, things we desperately chase, yet still find elusive. What a stark contrast!
Because we are children, we must bear this burden, be troubled by these seemingly worthless things, and because of our physical impulses and inner desires, we cannot escape, but can only face and accept them.
7.
Although I uncontrollably fantasize about my mother, imagining her being fucked by many men, gang-raped and group-sexualized, I know that fantasies are just fantasies, and fantasies are just fantasies. No matter how outrageous the fantasies are, or how promiscuous and licentious the mother in the fantasies is, it is still just fantasies. In reality, my mother has always been so noble, so holy, so inviolable and inviolable.
Even though the scenes in my fantasies, imagining my mother being fucked by many men, being gang-raped and group-sexualized, imagining my mother like a bitch, like an inflatable doll, being wantonly played with, randomly thrust into, and used at will, with countless penises taking turns entering and leaving my mother's body, my mother crying, shedding tears, begging, wailing, yet powerless and helpless, spreading her legs and protruding her vulva, like the lowest prostitute, being fucked and used at will, I cannot help but feel an unprecedented excitement and impulse.
This might be a touch of cruelty and savagery in human nature, a desire to oppress and humiliate, a bestial instinct to subdue others.
But in reality, I don't like any man getting close to my mother, I don't like any man coveting or possessing her. My mother is sacred, noble, and belongs to me.
My mother is mine, belonging only to me.
This also reflects the selfishness and possessiveness in human nature, the bestial instinct to assert sovereignty, not allowing anyone to touch her.
Yes, in reality, I see my mother as sacred, noble, inviolable, and undesecrated.
But is that really the case?
8.
Humans have consciousness, therefore morality and a sense of shame. However, it is precisely because of this consciousness that we can experience the ultimate pleasure brought by sensory experiences, and thus pursue and crave this ultimate pleasure.
Morality and a sense of shame enable people to respect ethics and restrain their nature. However, this is a self-restraint imposed by conscious nature. Once the pursuit of sensual pleasures surpasses the self-restraint of morality and shame, then so-called morality and ethics become meaningless and ineffective. Similarly, once external conditions influence the outcome, and the resulting judgment of interests overrides this self-restraint, then such morality and ethics also become meaningless and ineffective.
Lust, sex, masturbation, oral sex, and intercourse—leaving aside conscious considerations, the essence of these behaviors is that they can be easily accomplished through simple physical contact, and are processes of mutual need and satisfaction. From the perspective of physical gain or loss alone, no one harms anyone else.
The needs of the reproductive organs are simply the needs of other organs—like thirst leading to water, hunger to food, and the desire for sex when the reproductive organs are aroused and yearning.
Without other constraints, this is simply easier to do than eating or drinking. And if driven by other factors, it is still even easier than eating or drinking.
As people grow up, they learn to judge and weigh things. They no longer face the world by understanding causes but by choosing outcomes. The process of events and the rightness or wrongness of actions no longer matter; what matters is the quality of the result.
People are impulsive, fantasizing and yearning, but those who have learned to weigh things, with their various thoughts and considerations, consciously or unconsciously know how to restrain and preserve themselves.
Men want to preserve something in front of their mothers, such as a good impression or a good performance. This may be intentional or unintentional, but it is all innate. Perhaps they will never have any interaction or story with this beautiful woman in their lives, but who knows? Even for that small potential possibility, and because of the desires and expectations in their hearts that they are unwilling to admit as impossible, for that little bit of longing, men will subconsciously restrain and preserve themselves in front of their mothers, as if vying for favor.
Do men want to violate their mothers? —Yes!
Are mothers truly inviolable? —No!
Not inviolable, nor unwilling to violate, but afraid to violate.
Yes, they dare not violate.
But does "dare not" truly mean "dare not"? Does it truly equate to "unable to violate"?
The myriad forms of humanity, the bustling world, the filth and turbid currents of the world—all the impurities, lust, sin, and greed—bloom in every corner of the world. The turbid currents of the world surge and churn, pouring down on every place. People suffer, commit sins, fall, and sink in this place.
This is a filthy, sinful, and dirty world.
This is a lewd, hedonistic, and pleasure-seeking world.
There are far too many impure things.
Animalistic instincts drive people to pursue sensory experiences and pleasures. Without the constraints of other elements, sex, merely simple physical contact, can happen and be completed without anyone harming anyone else, and can bring ultimate sensory pleasure. If one desires, such things can easily occur and happen.
Even with other constraints, under various conditions, even unwillingly, people will still accept the occurrence of such things due to the weighing of interests. After all, compared to the tangible gains or losses caused by refusing to accept such things out of unwillingness, such things do not cause real harm.
Therefore, in the adult world, sex is as commonplace as eating and drinking, even cheap and worthless.
Events seen, rumors heard, stories in photos, plots in movies—so many things are overturning all the beliefs people have held since childhood. In youth, we are naive and simple-minded, not thinking too much. But as we grow up, these things not only invade our world, but we also gradually become aware of and understand their existence.
The more we understand, the more afraid, the more anxious and worried we become.
Yes, just like eating and drinking, it can easily happen if we want it.
The reluctance to violate is not because we don't want to, can't, or are unable to violate; the reluctance stems from insufficient conditions. When the conditions are sufficient, when the circumstances permit, then anything can happen.
Moreover, this is something that seems so easily and readily possible in the adult world, something that, aside from psychological feelings, isn't particularly difficult to accept.
The more you understand, the harder it is to have faith in the world and in people.
The adult world is a filthy world, a world of obscenity, hedonism, sin, pleasure, and filth.
Everyone seems to be chasing, or being chased, oppressed, or being oppressed, indulging in a life of decadence and debauchery. The neon lights of the city reflect unrestrained laughter, snow-white skin and scarlet lips, and countless naked bodies undulating and rolling on the sheets in a scene of debauchery.
Would your own mother be like that?
In places you can't see, being pinned down by strangers, having her genitals violently penetrated, her vagina repeatedly pounded with a thick penis?
Or perhaps not just one person, but many.
In places you can't see, being played with by many people. They played with their mother's body, her breasts, her vulva, her genitals, and fucked her, pounding into her cunt.
My mother was like a female dog, being wantonly and casually violated by them, licking their penises, sucking their genitals, giving them oral sex and handjobs, letting them ejaculate inside her.
Just like in the movies.
Could my mother be that kind of woman?
There are also those who are as pure as lotus flowers, blooming on filthy earth; there are always those who stand alone in the world, seemingly untouched by the dust and turbid currents, their breath fragrant and elegant.
Could my mother be that kind of person?
9.
From what I've seen, regardless of whether the men who approached my mother had ulterior motives or not, she didn't consider them.
My mother's excellence, her superior social status, her calmness, her indifference, her aloofness, were like an iron wall, keeping those men at bay.
Perhaps it was precisely the real gap and distance created by my mother's excellence and superior social status that instilled
a sense of awe, and the unpretentious yet always sharp and obvious distance and the resulting coldness in her attitude, that kept those men who tried to get close to my mother forever lingering outside her world, unable to enter. Although they couldn't stop men from fantasizing and imagining about their mothers, they could only fantasize and imagine.
This discovery brought me a slight sense of relief, yet also a lingering unease. Relieved because, based on what I saw, yes, it was true, my mother was truly like that.
Uneasy because the more I saw and heard, the less faith I had in the world and in reality. The more one knows, the harder it is to believe that things don't exist where one can't see them. It's hard to believe those familiar faces, those familiar objects, to be certain, to be sure it's real. Is my mother really like that?
It was a feeling of both doubt and hope.
I preferred to believe that my mother was noble and pure.
I firmly believed that my mother was noble and pure.
Yes, my mother was noble and pure; she wasn't the kind of promiscuous, wanton woman.
10.
But when did it all begin? Unbeknownst to me, my unwavering beliefs had been quietly crumbling, perhaps starting with the unusual clothes I found in my mother's closet and the gradual changes in her everyday attire.
My mother worked, and my father was busy, so I was often home alone. These were the times I would indulge in rummaging through my mother's various clothes, both inner and outer garments, fantasizing about her.
From as far back as I can remember, my mother's clothes were always very tight. That's true, but it wasn't just because of the clothes themselves; it was also because of my mother's exceptionally voluptuous figure. Even when the clothes were tailored to fit perfectly, they bulged under her weight, revealing an extremely full shape.
Even so, it didn't lead to misunderstandings or criticism. Although it excessively accentuated the lines and shapes of her body, it only added to her sexiness and beauty, arousing a few men's fantasies and desires, without causing any negative opinions. This was because the clothes were made of exceptionally high-quality, tightly fitting fabric.

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