Good mothers and good friends share with each other.

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-26

A good mother and a good friend shared
their preface: "What is love in this world? It makes people willing to die for each other." In the most brilliant period of my life, as time flowed by, I recklessly had an affair with you. Two lonely people, in this forbidden love, explored every inch of each other's skin. Was it rational enjoyment of the thrill of sex, or the body's pursuit of primal sexual desire?

In my youth, I always kept my mother in sight, but my father? From as far back as I can remember, I never saw him. Was he dead? Or had he abandoned his wife and children? But for me, or perhaps it makes no difference at all, she was once your wife, and now she is my incestuous mother and wife, both mother and wife. It's not just about the simple pleasure of sex, but about proving that I am more deserving of this woman, my mother, than you are.

Chapter One: The Dental Clinic I know that when I say this, most people will think I'm talking nonsense, but in this world, I believe there are many people like me who have had relationships with their mothers, only they are very private matters. There are many real mother-son videos circulating online, but I mostly just laugh them off because I understand that the real lives of incestuous mothers are never known to anyone.

You might see a mother and son picking out fresh fruits and vegetables in a store, but you wouldn't know that their conversation contained a lot of coded language that only lovers would understand. These sweet words are not easily known to outsiders. The language I most often hinted at to my mother was that I wanted to lick pudding, because I loved licking my mother's breasts, which were soft and bouncy like pudding.

Okay, enough with the preamble, let's get straight to the point. My mother is a dentist, and from childhood to adulthood, I loved lying on her lap with my mouth open, letting her hold the mirror and carefully check my teeth for cavities. As I grew older, I started to become interested in women's bodies. I have to say, many young men have had a mother complex deep down, and I had one too, only mine was more severe, and I dared to act on it.

Unlike many online stories, my relationship with my mother wasn't filled with ambiguity or coercion. My relationship with her was like a gentle stream, flowing slowly from a high place to a great river—warm and gentle, devoid of passion or beauty. Perhaps it was just that we were in the wrong era, and we happened to be together at the wrong time, enjoying those tiny ripples.

The phrase "things will fall into place naturally" best describes my relationship with my mother. Imagine a woman who has been widowed for nearly twenty years, whose only close male companion is her son. Even that might not be convincing enough. In the time I spent with my mother, my boundless love for her was the same as her love for me. Intimacy is not enough to describe us; it was "inseparable."

Many people might approach this from the perspective of liking mature women, leading to desires for incestuous relationships with their mothers, or watching pornographic scenes and wanting to have an affair with their mothers, cheating on their wives and having sex with their own sons—the thought is thrilling. Unfortunately, this doesn't apply to me.

I struggled with whether or not to be honest with my mother, because my accumulating feelings of affection had already made me indecisive. During my school years, when my studies were heavy, I mostly relied on masturbation to release my sexual desires. Initially, I also watched online porn—selfies, married women, students, Western films, incest—and these kinds of things filled a lot of the emptiness in my life. One day, lying cross-legged on my mother's lap, I opened my mouth for her to examine me closely. My eyes were fixed upwards, and her full, enormous breasts were right before me. The visual impact of those breasts was unforgettable. That day, my mother was wearing a tight black sweater, her breasts round and firm. Her private parts were above my head; I sniffed, but unfortunately, I couldn't smell her vaginal scent.

From that moment on, my gaze towards my mother gradually changed. I no longer saw her as a mother, but as a woman with a deadly mature allure. But I knew this was something I could only keep to myself; for both reason and emotion, I dared not overstep my bounds with her.

This May, I resigned from my job in Taoyuan. To be honest, I didn't really like Taoyuan. At 25, I was struggling to survive in this society, just for a meager salary. One day, as I was leaving work and heading home, I sat on my motorcycle seat and coughed up my first mouthful of blood. I just couldn't convince myself to keep going in Taoyuan.

Leaving the rainy and gloomy Taoyuan, I returned to Taipei, a place I rarely visit. My mother lives alone in a community in Songshan District, Taipei. I opened the front door and walked in, stepping into this home. I had many feelings in my heart, but I didn't want to say anything.

I knew that after I started working, my mother finally had her own dental clinic. Before, she had always been employed by others. Now that she had her own shop, I was happy that she wouldn't have to work so hard anymore. I set aside some time each week to visit my mother's dental clinic. The clinic entrance was made of a whole wall of frosted glass; you could only see inside by pushing the door open. I secretly pretended to be a customer working at the counter. The young woman looked cute and appealing. After handing over my health insurance card, I sat in the waiting area. The orange sofa and the overall minimalist style of the clinic, with white as the base and pale yellow lighting, were complemented by a long, narrow fish tank in the middle, filled with guppies. The sounds of electric drills, children crying, elderly people coughing, and women screaming were all mixed together, making me start to feel impatient.

In that instant, my gaze fell upon a woman with long, wavy brown hair. She wore a white uniform underneath, a white doctor's coat, a fitted grey skirt, black thigh-high stockings, and comfortable mesh sandals. As she walked, her breasts bounced up and down. When she bent down to sit on the low chair next to the examination table, the shape of her fleshy buttocks completely stretched the white coat, revealing the curves of her hips and waist. The men present couldn't help but stare at her peach-shaped buttocks. I muttered to myself, "Is this the mother I usually see at home?" When it was my turn, I casually walked into the treatment room. My mother looked at me, paused for a moment, then playfully pinched me. I grinned sheepishly in response. As I lay down in the treatment chair, I felt incredibly at ease, just like at home. I rested my head on my mother's lap, opened my mouth, and let her examine me.

My mother performed a teeth cleaning. During the process, I found myself lost in thought. A middle-aged woman, with the noble profession of dentist, impeccably groomed, exuding a strong sense of professionalism, and possessing the ethical standards to serve her clients—were there many men who came here just to catch a glimpse of my mother? Or perhaps they wanted to get closer to her? That night I had a dream. I dreamt that my mother was alone in the dentist's office. Everyone else had left, but my mother seemed to be waiting for someone, constantly looking towards the door. A young man walked in, and then the roller shutter door slowly closed. The man and woman in the clinic were about to engage in a lewd act that no one would discover.

My mother was waiting for me. I wanted to conquer my mother's noble image. Usually, she was attentive and caring towards her clients, but now the roles were reversed. I made my mother lie on the treatment chair. Aren't there many men who, while their mouths are agape, are thinking about how to pinch and knead those magnificent breasts in their eyes? I took off my mother's sandals and kissed her black stockings. My tongue moved from her left little toe to the right, licking each of her delicate feet. The sensation of the black stockings against my tongue was delightful. I gently pulled her feet up and licked upwards along the soles of her feet, making her itch and giggle. I continued licking relentlessly all the way down to my feet. My mother looked down at me with a disdainful gaze, a look of pride in her eyes. She turned on the medical light, and I looked up at her. Her face was backlit, and in the hazy, yellowish-orange light, her expression appeared even more proud and defiant, as if she wanted me to submit to her from the bottom of my heart. Was she a queen? This also made my mother realize, to some extent, that she was a very charming woman.

My mother said in a somewhat commanding tone, "Lick... upwards, don't stop."

I frowned, but could only continue licking upwards along the instep, past the ankle, my tongue fully feeling the curve of her calf. Covered by stockings, her calves appeared even firmer. I hooked my thumbs around the hem of her skirt and licked down to her knees, slowly moving up her thighs as I pulled the skirt up. My eyes were fixed on my mother's private parts. As the skirt was pulled up to her buttocks, she raised her buttocks, allowing me to pull the skirt all the way up to her waist, revealing her lower body covered by black stockings.

It turned out that my mother was wearing a black stocking that was a one-piece, reaching up to her waist. I knelt down in front of my mother's legs, holding her knees with both hands, and gently spread them apart. My mother resisted at first, tightly clamping her knees together. But when I looked at my mother's face, her expression was shy, like a little woman, which was extremely cute.

The aquarium's fluorescent lights cast a dim, white glow around a nearby treatment chair. A middle-aged woman lay on the chair, letting her son lick her sexy black-stockinged legs. Usually, when walking down the street, some men would stare with malicious intent, their faces looking like they wanted to lick her calves. But now, it was her son licking her inner thighs. When she no longer kept her thighs tightly closed and allowed her son to spread her legs apart, did it mean that deep down, she too had had such thoughts of being forced by someone else? After spreading my mother's legs apart, her panties were faintly visible beneath her black stockings, revealing some rhinestones and lace patterns. I buried my head between her thighs, my hands tracing the top of her thighs, my tongue licking the inside. My mother's breathing became rapid. My hands continued to move upwards along her thighs, my thumb and forefinger resting on the soft flesh of her waist, my fingers spread, moving forward and downward. I pinched and squeezed my mother's fleshy buttocks hard, letting the tender flesh sink into the gaps between my fingers. Then I pushed my fingers down and inserted them into my mother's buttocks, holding her fleshy buttocks with my palms facing upwards. The back of my hands was the leather seat of the medical chair, and my palms were my mother's tempting, plump buttocks. Even though they were covered by black stockings, they made my blood boil even more. How many men want to squeeze and knead their fleshy buttocks? When I finally buried my head in my mother's private parts, her thighs were already spread open. Her right leg was straddling an iron plate with tools such as hemostats, while her left leg was hanging on my right shoulder. After enjoying the feel of my mother's peach-shaped buttocks with both hands, I used my right hand to hold the back of my mother's left knee, which was originally hanging on my shoulder. Now I pushed my mother's left leg forward, exposing her private parts completely to my view. My left hand touched the inside of my mother's right thigh. Perhaps out of shame, my mother unconsciously tried to cover her vulva with her right leg, but my left hand pressed down on the inside of my mother's right leg, fixing her legs in place, making my mother's private parts completely visible.

My mother said shyly, "Don't lick, it's dirty." With a smile, I first licked her vulva from bottom to top, through her black stockings and lace panties. She let out a soft moan; perhaps she had never had her vulva licked by a man before. After three or four licks, I bit through her stockings with my teeth, revealing her deep purple panties, which excited me even more.

As a dentist, wearing such lewd underwear while treating patients—was I trying to satisfy their fantasies, or was I trying to seduce them? I rubbed my mother's private parts up and down with the tip of my nose. Even through her underwear, her clitoris could feel my rubbing. Not to mention, when I licked the edge of her underwear with my tongue, my mother's expression was one of unbearable itching. Her face showed that she hoped I would pull her underwear down to reveal her wet vulva, and she longed for my tongue to actually lick her clitoris.

Unfortunately, I was wicked. I got up and straddled my mother, using my left hand to push her hair back, revealing her ear. I whispered, "Mom, what do you want?" My mother didn't answer, but my left hand was already deep inside her genitals. My middle finger was inside her panties, digging and probing her already wet and overflowing vulva. My right hand caressed my mother's left earlobe, gently pinching it with my thumb and middle finger, then lightly scratching the ear canal with my index finger. I licked my mother's right ear, and her body trembled. She twisted her head, trying to break free, but I said in a commanding tone, "Don't run away!" My mother had no choice but to obediently let me lick her right ear.

At this moment, the mother's long-dormant sexual desire was finally ignited. It was called adultery, or incest. No one could have known things would turn out this way. All along, she had only had a casual relationship with her son, but at this moment, the man who was flirting with her was her own flesh and blood. And the place was actually in the most professional field of her career: a dental clinic. Patients came and went during the day, but at night it became the place for her and her son to flirt and make love. Would she be at work tomorrow, when the patient was lying on the treatment chair, unaware that the dentist's wife from the previous night had already overflowed with lustful fluids, soaking the chair?

A wave of shame washed over her. She hadn't had a chance to experience male finger stimulation in so long, and her vaginal walls longed for that thing, yet it was something she couldn't bring herself to say. As her son's right hand unbuttoned the buttons of her white shirt one by one, she thought about how, when she was performing electric drilling on patients, their eyes would always be drawn to her large breasts. Perhaps it was the allure of having patients steal glances at her impressive bust that brought her a certain pleasure.

When my son had finished playing with my ears, his face was now face to face with mine. As his fingers moved faster, my already aroused desire gradually turned into a raging fire. I didn't care about anything anymore; anyone would do, as long as I could be satisfied at this moment—my son, even a patient, it would all be fine. When I climaxed from the finger stimulation, my vaginal fluids soaked the chair, and my panties and black stockings were completely drenched. When my son… My son placed his left hand under the light of the examination table. The clear, viscous liquid between his fingers, visible through the light, was proof that he had just reached his G-spot and had an orgasm. It had been so many years since he had experienced such a long-awaited orgasm that his body was completely numb and limp, and his mind was blank. While he was still immersed in the pleasure, he slowly uttered a sentence in front of his son's face: "I want... your penis, to fuck me... fuck me."

When my mother unconsciously uttered those words after her orgasm, my already erect penis under my suit pants hardened even more, its shape bulging out. I held my mother's left hand with my right, asking her to caress my penis through my pants. I spread my legs, straddling my mother's waist, kneeling on either side of her fleshy buttocks. I faced my mother with my erect penis, and she glanced at it at first, then shyly looked to the side.

My mother said, "Good son, come home. Let Mom do it for you, okay?" I shook my head. My mother had no choice but to unzip my pants with her left hand and reach inside with her right, flipping open the opening of my underwear and grasping my burning penis. It was completely exposed to her eyes. I didn't have those exaggerated lengths; I was only the average size of an Asian man. But at this moment, my mother was holding my penis and stroking it back and forth.

I had waited for this moment for over twenty years. During my college entrance exams, the best way to relieve stress was through masturbation. I always imagined my mother helping me masturbate. Now, with my fantasy and dream coming true, my mother seemed even more womanly. Was it shyness? Or was it because I was her son? In the forbidden Taipei night, a mother and son engage in this lewd and absurd act at the dental clinic where they work every day. Is this a tacit understanding they've shared over the years, or a preordained mother-son bond, a secret that cannot be discovered by the world? At this moment, taboo, adultery, and incest are intertwined. The young man's penis and the middle-aged woman's vagina—perhaps because there is no husband in their families, the mother and son have long yearned for the feelings in each other's hearts, only now they are transforming those feelings into reality: sex.

I must say, my mother's technique for manipulating my penis wasn't very good; perhaps she hadn't been with a man in a long time. But my habit was to have a woman perform oral sex on me—it was a form of conquest, a way of making the woman submit. I thrust my penis forward, and my mother looked puzzled. After I pressed her head down, she understood. She slid her body down the examination chair, positioning her mouth against my penis.

I caressed my mother's face with my hands. I didn't like forced oral sex; I preferred a woman to perform it from the heart. My mother said softly, "This is my first time performing oral sex on a man; my technique won't be very good..." I nodded and said, "As long as you suck me, I'll be satisfied."

"You smooth talker, I'll bite you to death later..." my mother chuckled.

My mother held my penis in her right hand, sniffed it, and said, "It smells so fishy."

Then her honeyed lips opened and took my glans into her mouth. The warm, moist sensation of her lips enveloped my penis as she slowly lowered it. I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by an unprecedented feeling that almost numbed my mind. When my mother took it all the way in, my glans felt like it was pressing against her throat. She then moved her head back and forth rapidly. When she moved forward, her tongue enveloped the base of my penis, moistening it with saliva. When she sucked backward, her lips formed an "O" shape, increasing the suction. This back-and-forth, sometimes fast, sometimes slow rhythm heightened the sensitivity of my glans. Had my mother never licked a man's penis before? Then my mother began to stroke my scrotum, her thumb and forefinger encircling the base, moving up and down in rhythm with her oral sex. It was even more pleasurable than simply blowing and licking. As I let out a low moan and my penis began to tremble, my mother's mouth left my penis. Her right hand gripped my penis completely, her thumb and forefinger encircling the foreskin and moving up and down rapidly. The warmth of her palm and her delicate hand made my penis even more stimulated.

I cried out, "Mom, hurry, I want to cum in your mouth, please."

My mother looked reluctant, but could only open her mouth and lick my glans quickly in circles with her tongue. Her right hand moved back and forth, while I grabbed my mother's huge breasts with both hands, squeezing them tightly through her shirt. I could feel the bra being deformed by my squeezing.

"I'm going to cum!" As I said this, I thrust my body forward, shoving my entire penis into my mother's mouth. My lower abdomen was in front of her, and my penis was inside her mouth. The back of her head was pressed against the back of the treatment chair, held in place by me with no way to escape. She could only let my glans press against the depths of her throat, my trembling penis thrusting and pounding, pouring my semen into her throat. She could only swallow my foul-smelling semen, her eyes half-open as she looked at me with a slightly angry expression.

I slowly pulled my penis out, and my mother immediately placed the sanitary cup on the cup holder. The machine then started automatically, filling the cup with water. My mother picked it up to rinse her mouth, slapped my penis as a sign of her protest, and then I pressed my mother down on the chair again. I sucked on my mother's lips, our tongues mingling, our saliva exchanging—only a mother and son can understand what true love is.

My mother and I opened the roller shutter door and checked the time on my phone. It was midnight. The streets of Taipei, usually bustling with traffic, were now deserted. My mother's face was flushed, and my erection hadn't completely subsided. We walked out of the clinic hand in hand, closing the shutter door behind us. No one would know what had just happened in that clinic. My mother swayed her fleshy hips beside me. I knew then that my mother was the woman I loved most in this life.

When I snapped out of my fantasy, my mother still chuckled and said, "Get up now, or I'll spank you."

I reluctantly got up, looking at my mother with that dentist's expression, unaware that her own son had just been fantasizing about putting his penis in her mouth. After getting my teeth cleaned and returning home, I turned on my computer and aimlessly browsed the internet, unconsciously starting to search for articles about incest

between mothers and sons. It had been a long time since I'd read them. I remembered my student days, that Oedipus complex, that sexual hunger for my mother—the intense emotional impact on me as a high school student. It wasn't until I had another woman in college that I gradually began to transfer those lustful thoughts from my mother to her.

Until I graduated, I always thought I could overcome these abnormal thoughts because I knew those incest stories were fake, just meant to satisfy various sexual fetishes. But just now, after seeing my mother at the clinic, that Oedipus complex within me quietly began to rekindle deep inside.

Swallowing hard, I read the erotic novel about a mother and son masturbating. Although it was a repetitive story of handjobs, the fantasy of the plot made me feel very immersed, imagining myself forcing myself on my mother under such pretexts. However, such stories have become incredibly rare in recent years, and I don't really like cuckoldry. In my heart, my mother belongs only to me.

I walked to the back balcony, my penis erect, and saw my mother's underwear hanging on the windowsill to dry. Various types of underwear were in front of me, including a light blue lace pair. Seeing this pair of underwear reminded me of when I came home in high school and secretly took my mother's underwear to masturbate, only to be caught. Back then, my mother must have already noticed my strange behavior, right? My mother came from a poor family and had to study hard all her life. In those days, it was extremely difficult to become a dentist in Taipei. She went to Taipei alone to study, busy with her studies during the day and working at a telephone interview center at night. Her family was very poor, and sometimes she had to send money back home. At that time, she was busy with her studies and suffered a setback in love. Perhaps because she was too naive, she did not understand the wickedness of people's hearts.

My mother conceived me just before graduating. At that time, she was incredibly busy, juggling pregnancy, studies, and financial pressures. Under these various pressures, the typical Taiwanese woman's resilience and unwavering spirit were fully revealed. She refused to give up, even though the father of her child thought he was just playing around. She insisted on raising the child alone, relying solely on herself, and would not ask the man who did not acknowledge her child for a single penny or any reward.

That's how I was born. I admire my mother for completing her studies and becoming a dentist. Perhaps during her internship, she was both raising me and honing her professional skills. But I know that my mother has always been a self-disciplined person, habitually demanding of herself, only allowing progress and not retreat.

From a young age, I kept my mother close, knowing that when I grew up, I would be a man she could rely on, not a boy nestled in her arms. The moment I awoke from that dream, I realized I should become a strong tree in her heart, a shelter from the storm.

I admit I have a mother complex; growing up in that environment, how could I not have fantasies? My mother has a slender figure; her years as a dentist have taught her to maintain her health, because good physical strength is essential to handle the many patients she sees every day.

Last night, after visiting my mother's newly opened clinic, I began to decide that I wanted to try to possess her, to make her my woman. I know this is a very difficult thing, after all, my mother is highly educated, and she may already see through my inner thoughts. Even so, I still want to try to tell my mother the words that have been hidden deep in my heart for so many years.

My story is very long, and I don't know where to begin. But after that dream about my mother, my sexual fantasies about her have become more and more frequent. Whether it's in the storage room where the equipment is kept, or the first time I half-heartedly kissed my mother, I don't know whether I should say it or keep it in the treasure box of my beautiful memories.

At home, I think about how to see my mother more often. Underwear? Old cliché. Coercion? Impossible, if I say it, my mother will kick me. Sexual innuendo? In the morning, I greeted my mother with my erect penis, hoping she would see my genitals and feel excited and shy? I think my mother, with her personality, would probably just slap my head. Flirting? That's too weird. Flirting with my mother as soon as I get home? It's so annoying. I can't think of a practical solution, so I gave up. I can only go back to my old ways of fantasizing about my mother and masturbating. I guess this is the fate of most people with Oedipus complexes. What difference does it make whether I say it or not? Hiding outside the bathroom door and eavesdropping on my mother's urination, or secretly taking pictures of my mother's naked body with my phone. Secretly taking pictures? Forget it. If she were a rural woman, she might not be so wary. But my mother is from Taipei. She goes online after get off work to look for information and chats with friends on Facebook. If I secretly take pictures with my phone and get caught, I'll probably be heading to the police station.

There's no reasonable excuse for my Oedipus complex, so I can only grumble and stay home looking for work. But every time I'm home and see my mother's figure, my penis gets erect several times. After not seeing her for so many years, she's become even more mature and charming, exuding a mature woman's allure. Her mature body completely seduces my senses. Every time my mother comes home and takes off her doctor's coat,

after showering, she wears a fitted white t-shirt with the word "check" distorted by her large breasts. She only wears super short, thin shorts, and her buttocks are like ripe peaches. Several times, my mother simply doesn't wear a bra, letting her nipples protrude, half-hidden, making my blood boil.

I asked myself if I was giving myself a chance, trying to see if my mother could understand my thoughts at this moment. Even though I had gone through a dark period, my heart, which had been locked up, was now being opened again because of my mother.

After that, I made it a habit to visit my mother at the clinic every night. The people there knew I was the doctor's son. For some reason, I felt uneasy whenever the male doctors got close to my mother. I longed for her to come home every day, but unfortunately, she was even busier lately because of the newly opened clinic.

Conversely, since returning from working out of town, I thought I could be closer to my mother at home, but instead, she became even busier. Meanwhile, I calmed down about having sex with my mother. As the clinic's operations gradually became more successful, my mother herself noticed that she seemed to care less about me recently.

And what about me? I don't understand why my mother is neglecting me. Although I know it's all for the sake of earning more money so that we can enjoy a better life, I can't get out of this entanglement. For six whole months, I've repeatedly hoped that my mother would give me more care, but she thinks I should be a mature person. Is this why a rift has begun to appear between us?

In the end, after suppressing myself for so long, I chose a way to express my deepest thoughts. Although I know this might change many things, I have to do it now because I can no longer suppress my emotions, that forbidden love for my mother that's too strong.

After bathing and changing late at night, my mother slowly entered my bedroom and turned on the lamp. To my surprise, she found a letter on the table. Still tired from her bath, she slowly unfolded the letter. The words inside made me understand something unexpectedly. Through the letter's contents, I realized that I was no longer alone, but belonged to someone else.

My mother quietly entered my room, waking me instantly even when I was almost asleep. I secretly opened my eyes and looked at her. She sat quietly on the edge of my bed, murmuring to herself, as if telling me something. After a while, she gently closed the door and left my room. At that moment, I felt a deep sense of loss.

The next morning, my mother and I went about our daily routine as if nothing had happened. Although I forced a smile, I was deeply saddened. In the letter, I poured out my love for my mother over the past twenty-odd years, but her behavior was as if nothing had occurred.

From then on, my mother and I gradually grew distant, and she seemed to notice my change, but she didn't do anything. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on my part, I comforted myself with that thought, but my love for my mother could not be erased.

Months passed, and the awkwardness between my mother and me turned into mutual indifference. One night, in the middle of the night, my mother received an emergency call from security, saying there was a problem at the clinic. My mother and I rushed to the clinic, only to find out it was a false alarm; it turned out the new security guard was inexperienced and had accidentally triggered the alarm.

After the guard left, my mother said there was something missing in the clinic's storage room and she needed to go in. She told me to go back first and head to the clinic. I stood at the door, and as I tried to maintain this cold relationship with my mother, a thought crossed my mind: perhaps my mother didn't know how to bring it up? Emotionally and logically, a mother could call it incest, and a dentist could call it incest. But what if your own flesh and blood falls in love with you? How do you face this dilemma? Does your mother, like me, struggle daily with how to face her son?

As I hesitated, should I break the deadlock? I pushed open the door, the roller shutter closed, and slowly walked into the storage room. My mother was wearing a pink nightgown; the silky smoothness of it only fueled my fantasies.

My mother, standing on a small stool, tidied up the equipment above the storage room. Her back was slightly bent, and her peach-shaped buttocks swayed from side to side in my eyes. My mother turned her head and said, "Why aren't you going home to rest so late?" I said softly, "I can't bear to leave you alone."

My mother finally smiled. As my mother was about to get off the stool, I wrapped my arms around her waist. My mother was falling down a little fast, and the silk nightgown was too slippery. My left hand went directly under my mother's armpit, and my left palm pinched her breast directly. My mother immediately pushed my hand away, but I don't know where I got the courage, my right hand also came around from behind, so that I was pinching my mother's big breasts with both hands.

My mother kept pushing her buttocks back, her hands tightly gripping my arms, trying to pry my hands off her chest. Unbeknownst to her, her struggles only made her fleshy buttocks rub against my penis, causing my genitals to involuntarily swell. My mother's breasts were truly large, at least an F-cup.

After nearly thirty seconds of this, my mother stopped struggling and lay on my chest. I felt her chest heaving violently. She squeezed my hands, trying to pry them open, but I only tightened my grip. Then, behind my back, she said, "Aren't you going to regret it? Are you getting more and more itchy as you grow up?" Hearing this, I hesitated. If my mother agreed, did that mean I was mentally prepared to have her as my woman? My mother sighed and said, "I've always understood your thoughts, and I know what you want to do, but in this world, are you sure you can really shoulder this responsibility? Or are you just looking for a woman to release your pent-up desires?" I fell silent and released my mother's chest.

"You need to know that you will get married, have children, and have a long life ahead of you. I understand your guilt towards me, but that's not something you should bear. I've always been working hard for you, and I understand your pain. But I want you to be sure that you won't regret loving someone you can't love. Incest between mother and son is unacceptable in this society. Have you considered my feelings? Can I really accept my son doing this to me?" My mother turned and looked at me, saying this.

Like a guilty child, I lowered my head and remained silent. As my mother turned and walked out of the storage room, she said to me, "Tell me when you've made up your mind..." Then, a voice barely audible whispered, "I will leave this world before you eventually, and I'm not stupid. I've seen those inappropriate mother-son posts online since I was young. It's normal for grown men like you to like mature women, but you need to know that I won't be your object."

The moment those words rang in my ears, I didn't think twice before pulling my mother into my arms and kissing her. This was the boldest thing I've ever done for my mother in my life.

My mother's eyes were wide open, and our lips were locked in a passionate kiss. My right hand was tightly wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her close to my chest. The mature scent of her nightgown, like a deadly perfume, overwhelmed me, making me lose my senses and recklessly indulge in this moment of illicit lovemaking. My

penis was already pressed tightly against her lower abdomen, the friction against her through the silky nightgown feeling incredibly pleasurable. My right hand, which had been around her waist, moved downwards, fingers spread, feeling the alluring curves of her buttocks. How many patients fantasized about this beautiful woman in the clinic, probably wanting to pin this dentist beauty against the counter and vigorously fuck those round, plump ass? Unfortunately, the object of your fantasies right now is the very thing I'm currently pinching and kneading with my right hand, my middle finger sliding down the cleft of her buttocks. Even through her pajamas, the shape and feel of her buttocks are as perfect as you can imagine. Some people say that young girls have firm, perky buttocks, while mature women have soft, plump buttocks. My mother's buttocks are somewhere in between; they don't have the big, overweight buttocks of middle-aged women, but rather a beautiful, moderate shape. However, my mother's lower body proportions are also excellent.

She has a perfect nine-head figure, and even though she's only 165cm tall, her long, slender legs make her buttocks look even more alluring. For years, I've fantasized countless times about my mother's fleshy buttocks. Several times, while masturbating in the bathroom

, I've fantasized about the waves of flesh created by my thighs hitting her buttocks, the visual sensation, the force of the impact, and the warm, moist walls of her vagina. My God, even now, as I'm fingering my mother's vulva, I can't help but fantasize. My tongue only intertwined with hers for a mere thirty seconds before she pushed me away with both hands, as if she had just calmed down from excessive shock.

Then, I turned and left, running out of the clinic. In the empty clinic, only the sound of my mother's footsteps and her sobs could be heard. I was left alone, walking dejectedly towards the door. Taipei at midnight was so cold. The tangled wires on the streetlights were like my mother and me. Was the thread in my heart getting tighter and tighter? When I got home, my mother's bedroom door was indeed locked, but the urge to forcefully possess my mother's heart grew stronger and stronger. My mother had a habit of making coffee in the morning, hand-drip brewing, drinking specialty coffee, but what was she actually tasting? I worked in the tobacco and alcohol business in another city for two years, which almost ruined my health. I partied every night and slept with many women, but the only one I can't forget all these years is my mother. I don't know if she had other men to satisfy her while I was away. After all, it's impossible for me to believe that such a beautiful woman could go decades without sex.

After that forced kiss, my relationship with my mother became even worse than before. Was I too hasty? In short, I can only blame myself for being too impulsive. Although the first few days were very awkward, it just so happens that my grandmother is coming to Taipei at this time because she is sick and can only receive treatment at Taipei hospitals.

My mother is from Hualien and has half-indigenous blood. She has deep-set features, a curvaceous figure, and wheat-colored skin, which is completely different from the dark, chocolate-colored skin of most indigenous people. She has the traditions of the Amis people and grew up in the mountains as a wild child. She is brave and adventurous, which is a characteristic of her tribe. My mother grew up in such an environment. However, now most of the tribe lives on the plains, and my mother only played in the deep mountains or went fishing at the sea when she was a child.

Unfortunately, when my mother was preparing to receive her elementary school education, my grandfather and grandmother had a disagreement, so my mother was taken by my grandfather to a school in the south, while my grandmother continued to live in the tribe in Hualien. At that time, my grandfather had been abroad and had studied overseas, so he came to Hualien to teach students at a church. That's how he fell in love with an indigenous girl, which led to the birth of my mother, who was an only child.

Grandpa decided early on that my mother should go to school, but Grandma thought that girls shouldn't study. So, they parted ways in a fit of pique. The two elders didn't see Grandpa again until Grandpa passed away. Grandma saw Grandpa for the last time at his funeral. At that time, my mother didn't understand Grandpa's actions. But now, she can understand, more or less, why Grandpa wanted her to study hard.

I grew up listening to my mother tell stories. The picture stories from that time couldn't compare to the stories my mother told as a child. I think it's because my mother has a very outgoing and bold personality. She's more like a buddy to boys. When she was young, she often mingled with boys. Even now, although she's entered middle age, she still lacks the reserved demeanor of a typical girl when she talks to people. Instead, she has a more modern, forward-thinking woman's air about her.

I always imagined my mother as a woman in a novel, getting up early to brush her teeth, while her son, with his morning erection, would secretly rub his penis against her buttocks, intentionally or unintentionally, from left to right and then from right to left. And as a mother, for the sake of the family, she had no choice but to tolerate her son's sexual harassment.

However, my family consisted only of my mother and me from childhood. The traditional way women were afraid to speak out for fear of losing face didn't apply to my mother at all. So I thought I could use a semi-coercive approach to make my mother understand that I longed for her. But I didn't expect that although my mother was more open-minded than other women, she was not willing to suddenly accept a man, kiss her, or even caress her voluptuous body. Or even to be like a dog in bed, arching her back in a U-shape, sticking her buttocks up high, spreading her legs to expose her anus and vulva to a man. It was just that this man was her own son.

Perhaps my mother still retains the dignity of a woman, not the kind of slut who cheats on her husband with other men. Perhaps that's it. My view of my mother is gradually changing. Should I try to see things from her perspective instead of just using her as a sex slave for my own pleasure?

After all, in the real world, would my mother be as lewd as in the novels? Or would she become a slut who licks and blowjobs because of one instance of her son's rape? Or do I hope that my mother will be penetrated by different men, or that while the dentist examines her mouth, the patient's hand is also checking if her vagina is wet? Is this what I want? Ask yourself honestly, respect others, and start by respecting yourself. I think I need to try to control my sexual desires. I've seen some stories of incest between mothers and sons online. Some people suppress their desires through fantasies, while others suppress them through caresses, peeping, and so on. And what about me? Returning to the most primal impulses of men and women, my mother, though middle-aged, still dresses smartly for work. While she doesn't wear heavy makeup, it's still presentable and helps her maintain a good figure. I remember she seems to be controlling her diet and having meals planned by a nutritionist. Moreover, my mother loves sports; her innate athletic instincts as an indigenous person meant she was proficient in almost all kinds of sports during her school years. This makes my mother, even as a middle-aged woman, look almost like she's in her early thirties, even though she's already in her early forties.

Unlike those gossipy middle-aged women, my mother doesn't usually go to crowded markets. She prefers to wear fashionable clothes and drive to department stores to shop at imported supermarkets. Perhaps because of her high income, she also knows how to enjoy life.

This Saturday I decided to drive down to pick up my grandmother. On Friday night, I originally planned to drive there, but my mother said she wanted to take the MRT. The newly opened Songshan Line is right near our house. Two weeks have passed since the forced kiss incident. Although my mother is very concerned about this matter, my grandmother's illness has made her put it aside.

I knew my chance had come. This was the only way to rebuild our relationship; otherwise, even our mother-son relationship would be awkward. As I sat on the balcony waiting, my mother was dressed casually. A sheer chiffon blouse partially revealed her figure, and underneath, a fitted vest tightly accentuated her breasts. Beneath the barely visible long-sleeved chiffon top, her cleavage seemed incredibly alluring, inviting a lick. From the side, her breasts almost completely covered the buttons at the chest. Unfortunately, the pure white sports vest was opaque, so I couldn't see the color of her bra, but its shape was still clearly visible.

I was stunned. My mother dressed like this? She wore super tight Korean-style stretch pants that hugged her mother's fleshy buttocks, thighs, and calves. The low-waisted design revealed her slender waist. She carried an unknown brand-name bag in her left hand and wore light brown sunglasses. She had a chic short haircut. Yes, her mother had short hair, similar to Guo Xuefu's hairstyle. However, this hairstyle is very dependent on facial features. Unfortunately, her mother had an oval face and three-dimensional features. Otherwise, you would not want to have this hairstyle unless you are a beauty.

When I put on the pink Nike sneakers, I was almost stunned. It was so different from my mother's usual work look. In my last memory, my mother was a busy workaholic who had lived alone in another city since I started school. I only recently came back. If my mother had always dressed like this, wouldn't that mean she must have had a lot of suitors? Seeing me standing there dumbfounded, my mother suddenly laughed and said, "What's wrong? Don't you recognize your mother?" "No, it's just... I've really never seen Mom dressed like this before,"

I said.

My mother swayed her hips as she opened the door and came downstairs, turning back with a smile. "You don't know a lot! Who told you to always be out all these years, never caring about me at all?" I took the key and locked the door, saying, "It's a misunderstanding. Didn't I call and chat online almost every day before?" "You really dare to say that? Don't you want to come home and see me? Spend time with me?

" My mother said as she strolled through the alley. I walked shoulder to shoulder with my mother and said, "I'm back now, aren't I?" As my mother walked, her breasts jiggled with each step. Although the material of her sheer dress was unclear, the rhythm of her breasts made me want to pinch and squeeze them hard from behind. Although I had already touched them that night, it was only in broad daylight that I could see those captivatingly large breasts clearly.

"You came back and were already driven mad by lust, huh? First you wrote a letter confessing your love, then you pinched my breasts hard, and finally you forced your tongue into my mouth while your lower body kept thrusting against me?" the mother said, her eyebrows raised in anger.

My God, I remember it all so clearly! So, considering my mother's strong, independent, and passionate personality, that night was a complete mistake. How could I have had the illusion that she was a submissive woman? Just thinking about it makes me want to smash my head against a telephone pole.

I was so ashamed that I slowed my pace and silently followed behind my mother. With her back to me, she said, "First you walked beside me, constantly ogling my breasts. Now you're slowing down, are you trying to fantasize about my butt?" I had no choice but to quicken my pace to walk in front of my mother. I was sweating profusely. I thought to myself, "Is this the 21st century? In this day and age, who would dare to sexually harass their own mother? I'm such an idiot."

I walked to the MRT station reflecting on my actions. As I was going down the escalator, my mother suddenly whispered in my ear, "Do you know you were wrong? Do you understand what you did wrong?" I nodded and said, "I'm reflecting, reflecting."

My mother looked at me and said, "I'm not a difficult person to talk to, but you need to know, given my personality, would I let you hit me?" I remained silent.

"Sigh, after I found out about that letter you wrote the other day, I had a hard time calming down because I didn't know how to face you. I originally wanted to persuade you to leave, but then you treated me like that in the storage room, which made me very angry. You need to know, this kind of thing is difficult, not like those online porn movies that easily turn a mother into a prostitute,"

my mother said.

I hurriedly argued, "I've never wanted Mom to be a prostitute, I really... Mom, you know what I mean."

The two of us waited on the empty platform. Because this station was relatively small, there were few people. The first breeze in the subway tracks gently brushed against my face, and my bangs were blown into disarray. My mother's expression was complicated, but she didn't say anything. The wind blew the hem of my mother's snow-white dress, and the strong lustful thoughts I had for my mother subsided.

Stepping into the carriage, I sat down with my mother. The air conditioning in the subway made me even more awake. I looked at my mother and said, "Mom... do I really have absolutely no chance?" My mother blinked her long eyelashes, looking surprised, and said, "You're still thinking about this?" I looked into my mother's eyes and at the sunglasses she was holding, and said, word by word, "I... am..." Before I could finish speaking, the station announcement came on, interrupting me.

My mother took out her phone, and I took mine out and started scrolling. Because there were suddenly a lot of people getting on the bus, it was inconvenient to talk. My mother texted me: "Then let me ask you, do you like me, do you love me because of my appearance, or because of my status as your mother, or is it just your simple sexual fetish? Do you like mature women? Do you like to have sex with married women in secret? You've tried all of that, and now you want a more dangerous game, you want to have sex with your mother?" A series of questions overwhelmed me. It turned out that my mother's thoughts were much deeper than mine. I replied: "Mom, you don't have to be so blunt."

My mother replied: "You're an adult, why are you still shy? You dared to rub my breasts, and you're afraid of saying such things?" She added a sly smiley emoji.

I replied, "That's not how it works, Mom. Girls should at least be tactful when they speak. Men love sweet talk."

My mother replied, "I'm really sorry, but I'm not good with sweet talk and I don't know how to coax young men."

"Don't be like that, why are you being so stubborn?"

I replied with a laugh.

We arrived at Taipei Main Station. The pleasant sounds broke the silence. My mother said to me, "Let's go," and took my hand. We walked out of the crowd and, in a flash, secured a spot at the escalator entrance. The escalator was at least two stories high. My mother's fleshy buttocks swayed as we climbed the stairs. People's eyes, intentionally or unintentionally, stole glances at my mother's buttocks. Passengers coming down from above were all attracted to my mother's taut breasts. My mother seemed to be used to this kind of gaze. If I had moved my face forward just a little more, I could have stuffed my mouth and nose between her buttocks. My lower body started to swell again. The feeling of my right hand rubbing her buttocks that night came rushing back to my mind once more.

In this short time, I reflected on my initial feelings for my mother. Was it really as she said, that I just wanted the thrill of incest, the excitement of forbidden fruit? More or less, yes, but that wasn't the main reason. The main reason was that I wanted my mother to take off her strong woman mask and be the simple, carefree mother she was—kind to everyone, and not just a strict, harsh teacher, but a lively, thoughtful woman.

Such a woman may have never experienced true happiness in her life. I wanted to bring my mother happiness. Perhaps it was one-sided selfishness, or perhaps I misunderstood her. Perhaps she had many men caring for her, but you know, this is what Oedipus complex is—wanting to possess your mother. Perhaps I should let go of this mindset, let go of the place my mother holds in my heart? After accompanying my mother to the import market that evening, carrying two large bags of shopping spoils, we chatted idly for a while. Neither of us brought up that incident again. My mother's conversations usually revolved around friends, work, and family, but she rarely talked about herself, at most her childhood. She rarely brought up her student days, her early working years, or the days after I was born. Could it be that my mother had some unknown past? Chapter Two: My Mother's Junior's Summer Vacation During Her Senior Year of High School It was incredibly hot. While waiting for university to start, I stayed home playing computer games all day. It was around this time that my mother somehow learned to drink coffee. It turned out that a good friend of hers would come over during the holidays to teach my mother how to make black coffee. It was also around that time that I met Aunt Green.

When I first saw Aunt Green, I was struck by her slender figure and soft-spoken manner, quite unlike my mother's quick-wittedness. Aunt Green possessed a gentle charm and an indescribable elegance that contrasted sharply with my mother's. Aunt

Green dressed rather conservatively, while my mother was much more uninhibited at home, often wearing revealing tank tops and hot pants that exposed her long legs. In comparison, Aunt Green's short t-shirt and denim miniskirt seemed outdated. However, there must be a reason why a woman can attract others, and that reason is her graceful figure.

Several times I peeked through the crack in the door at my mother and Aunt Green, fantasizing that both women were serving me, each licking my penis, and that I should compare who was better. They each had their own strengths, making it hard to choose. Perhaps at that time, Aunt Green's understanding care truly captivated me. Several times, Aunt Green would ask me if I had eaten enough, and if I wanted her sister to take me out to eat. Because my mother was busy with work, sometimes when Aunt Green came, my mother would only stay for a short while before leaving in a hurry.

Back then, as a high school student, having a woman care for me like this every day did indeed make me fall in love. However, considering the age gap and the fact that Aunt Green was already a married woman, I remained much calmer. Compared to lustful thoughts about my mother, my sexual urges towards Aunt Green were not as strong as those towards my mother.

On the day of my graduation ceremony, it was raining heavily. Aunt Green came to pick me up with an umbrella. It was sunny, but a torrential downpour started. The weather in the south is so unpredictable. I was surprised that Aunt Green would come. I asked her in surprise, "Aunt Green? What's wrong?" Aunt Green shook her head and said, "My senior's son is graduating. Of course, I had to come and congratulate him." I was a little disappointed at that moment, but when I saw Aunt Green, I couldn't bear to let her see my sad side.

Aunt Green put her arm around my shoulder, my right arm pressed tightly against her left breast. Aunt Green didn't react much, but I was lost in thought, blushing furiously. It wasn't until Aunt Green noticed her breast was against me and our eyes met, that we quickly looked away, like children caught doing something wrong.

I must say, Aunt Green had a pleasant fragrance, I couldn't tell if it was shampoo or her natural body scent, but it had a mature, sophisticated air about her. I stole glances at her chest; through the gaps in her white shirt buttons, her white bra was clearly visible. Even though it was just a fleeting glimpse, for a high school student like me, it was incredibly arousing.

High school students are naturally curious about women's bodies. At that time, after three years of academic pressure, I hadn't had a girlfriend. Partly it was due to my personality; I'm naturally rather quiet and reserved. However, I'm very perceptive of subtle changes in relationships.

Before graduation, I met Aunt Green for the first time at home. Perhaps a chemical reaction had already occurred then. By the time the graduation ceremony arrived, and it was late June, during our time together, I probably didn't even realize it myself, but I had fallen for her. It's ridiculous, isn't it? A high school student liking an older woman.

The rain was heavy, and rainwater streamed down the umbrella's surface to the edge. With two people sharing one umbrella, my left shoulder and Aunt Green's right shoulder were both exposed. Aunt Green and I walked briskly side by side towards the parking lot. Trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, I asked, "Aunt Green, why didn't Mom come?" Aunt Green gripped the umbrella handle tightly and said, "I was going to drive down, but the professor had something come up, so she asked me to come instead."

Was that true? Did Mom really ask? Or was it just Aunt Green's understanding lie? Thinking of this, my face fell again. Aunt Green noticed the change in my expression and smiled, saying, "Senior didn't mean to not come; she really had something to do."

Although I was angry, I was too embarrassed to lose my temper with Aunt Green.

When we got to the car, I held up the umbrella and let Aunt Green get the keys. While Aunt Green was looking down and rummaging through her bag for the keys, I observed her. She was probably a little taller than my mother. Aunt Green's right shoulder was completely soaked. The rain-soaked white shirt was flowing down her shoulder, making the long sleeve on her right arm and the shirt above her right breast almost transparent, making her bra even more obvious. Especially the wet shirt, because it became heavier when wet, almost clung to her right breast, making my mouth dry.

After Aunt Green received the key, she noticed my gaze lingering on her chest. She glanced at it a little herself and let out a soft "Ah!" as her face began to blush. Shy women are truly adorable.

In contrast, in my three years of high school, my engineering class was filled with boys who did nothing but study and play. At most, they would whistle at girls from other departments. The class had over forty students, all of whom were boys. For me, the image that remained most vivid in my mind was that of my mother. It wasn't until I met Aunt Green that I realized that shy women truly exist, and don't just appear in novels.

I hurriedly said, "Quick...open the door!" Aunt Green then opened the car door. Because I didn't dare to look at Aunt Green's chest, I chose to sit in the back. While driving, Aunt Green glanced at me several times through the rearview mirror, but didn't say anything. I felt very embarrassed because Aunt Green noticed that I was staring at her chest.

"That auntie is an old woman, her figure isn't very good, so you don't need to care too much, hehe,"

Aunt Green said while driving.

"Huh? Really? I don't think Aunt Green is old at all. She looks very young,"

I said, glancing at Aunt Green through the rearview mirror.

Aunt Green covered her mouth and chuckled, "I really envy you, senior, having such a sweet-talking child."

I didn't respond to that, because I didn't understand why my mother was so busy, so I didn't want to talk. I just casually replied, "Hmm, maybe."

Aunt Green probably sensed something was off in my words, so we fell silent again. "You have to understand your mother, she's doing all this for you,"

Aunt Green said.

I said, slightly annoyed, "For my own good? I really wish she wasn't like this."

"One day, when you grow up, you'll understand why your mother is so busy,"

Aunt Green said gently.

I didn't say anything, because at that time I was too lazy to understand those adult matters, but Aunt Green's caring actions made me feel a little more favorably towards her. "Aunt Green, am I bothering you?" I said with a smile.

"Hehe, no way, I consider you my godson,"

Aunt Green said.

We drove north along the highway and arrived at the Qingshui rest stop in Taichung. Aunt Green and I got out of the car to buy something to eat. Aunt Green's shirt was almost dry. Perhaps because of graduation season, the rest stop was particularly crowded today. As I squeezed through the crowd with Aunt Green, I noticed that she had been pushed to the back. Seeing her frightened expression, a feeling of worry that she might be hurt welled up inside me. In a flash, I took a step, grabbed Aunt Green's slender fingers, and pulled her to my side, heading towards the snack bar next door.

Aunt Green's fingers were beautiful, especially their delicate texture. When I came to my senses, Aunt Green and I looked at each other again. This time, I quickly let go of Aunt Green's hand. Aunt Green pursed her lips and said, "There were so many people just now!" I grinned foolishly and said, "Yes, that's why I took the liberty of holding your hand. Sorry."

Aunt Green chuckled, "How can you be so reserved? I'm already reserved enough, but you're even worse than me."

I smiled shyly, feeling a warm glow in my heart.

But things never go as planned. Just as we got on the interchange and were about to head north, Aunt Green's car broke down. Since it was already 2 a.m., we had to call a tow truck to pull the car off the highway and down to a repair shop. The shop owner smiled wryly and said, "I think you and your son should stay at a nearby motel for the night. I'll fix the parts when I open in the morning, since it's hard to get parts at this hour."

Aunt Green frowned and said, "Really... do we have to wait until tomorrow?" "Yes, get in the car first, I'll take you there. You should have some money on you, right?" The owner half-forced us to get in the car. I looked at Aunt Green with both hands, and she had no choice but to nod in agreement.

It was my first time accompanying a girl to a motel, and Aunt Green seemed quite shy, while I felt a bit excited. As we entered the room, Aunt Green's eyes lit up, and she said, "Then... I'll take a shower first."

But when Aunt Green tried to take off her clothes, she discovered that the room was completely transparent with glass partitions, and even though I was outside, I could see her naked body clearly.

I shyly said, "Then I'll wait outside. Let me know when you're done." Aunt Green smiled slightly at me, her eyes filled with that tender, gentle look, which made my heart race again. Standing on the balcony outside the door, the night in the suburbs of Taichung was so dark, with the lights of distant buildings twinkling like stars. Seeing the red glow of the lights, my mother's fiery aura appeared in my mind once more, like a brand, an indelible scar.

As my thoughts were still lingering on my mother's face, Aunt Green came out wearing a shirt and joined me on the balcony, gazing at the night view. When I noticed that Aunt Green was only wearing a shirt, my gaze fell to her lower body and revealed that she wasn't wearing a skirt, exposing her underwear and thighs. Compared to my mother's more fleshy thighs, Aunt Green's thighs were incredibly slender, almost like those of a South Korean entertainer.

Aunt Green laughed and said that she had just gotten her pencil skirt wet, so she simply didn't wear it.

"Aren't you afraid I'll do something to you?" I said, slightly teasingly.

"Oh, what's there for an old woman like me to be afraid of?" Aunt Green said.

"But Aunt Green, you're still very charming,"

I said, swallowing hard.

Aunt Green raised an eyebrow and said, "Thank you for the compliment."

Then, without realizing it, she tugged at the hem of her shirt, as if trying to cover something. Unfortunately, the white shirt was the kind that fit her figure well, so the hem didn't go very far.

Aunt Green lowered her head and said, "It's windy outside, come inside." Looking at Aunt Green's back as she turned away from me, I subconsciously hooked my fingers around the hem of my underwear and pulled it open to reveal her fleshy buttocks. Aunt Green let out a soft cry, turned her head, and gave me a shy look. At that moment, I understood one thing: tonight, I was going to lose my virginity.

Driven by lust, I had long forgotten my mother. Decades of suppressed sexual desire were going to be released on Aunt Green tonight. What did it matter if she was a little boy? Given Aunt Green's shy nature, if I asked her for it tonight, she would probably give in, right? Aunt Green probably knows what's going to happen tonight, right? As I showered, my naked body, the hot water hitting my chest, made me feel very hot, and my lower body was just as hard. I threw on a towel and came out. Aunt Green was sitting on the sofa, scrolling through her phone. Seeing my naked upper body and the way my erection pushed the towel high, Aunt Green looked even more ashamed. She

quickly turned off the light and said tremblingly, "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep."

Then she got into bed and wrapped herself in the sheet.

I climbed on top of Aunt Green and whispered in her ear, "Tonight I want you, to take my virginity."

Aunt Green said, "No, you're her son, how can I..." "Don't mention your mother anymore, please, just tonight, only the two of us will know, it's a secret between us."

I could feel that Aunt Green seemed to be softening. "Try to help me... Aunt Green."

I said forcefully.

I pulled back the quilt, turned on a yellow light, and knelt down under Aunt Green's armpits. The bath towel had already been thrown on the ground. My penis was on Aunt Green's face. I brought my scrotum close to Aunt Green. Aunt Green frowned and looked at me. Only when I pressed my scrotum against Aunt Green's lips did I feel my scrotum being sucked by a warm, moist mouth. Aunt Green closed her eyes, probably feeling very humiliated, but helpless.

A woman who was practically divorced was now licking the scrotum of an acquaintance's son. She felt ashamed and humiliated, knowing that saying no now wouldn't change anything. Perhaps, when she walked out in her underwear, she already understood that deep down, she hoped this boy would do something to her? Aunt Green licked up the scrotum to the glans. I pressed my penis down, held the base, and rubbed the glans against Aunt Green's lips. "Open your mouth,"

I said with a disdainful look.

Aunt Green opened her eyes, looked to the side, and slowly took my glans into her mouth. I adjusted the angle, lowered my waist, and, as if raping her, shoved my entire penis into her mouth. When it reached deep into her throat, Aunt Green would always slap my thigh in protest, but this only aroused my animalistic desires.

After several rounds, my entire penis was covered in Aunt Green's saliva. Aunt Green was panting heavily, her face turned to the side, refusing to look at me. I pulled down Aunt Green's panties, and with both hands holding her ankles, the panties were pulled down to her thighs. Aunt Green's legs were spread wide like a frog's M, and her entire vulva was right in front of me.

Unfortunately, Aunt Green squeezed her legs together tightly again, and I couldn't pry them open, so I had to give up. I turned her over so she was lying face down on the bed, and I explored down her anus with my right middle finger, reaching a wet, fleshy opening. As my finger moved further down, I felt a tearing sensation; I knew I had entered

Aunt Green's vagina. I started fingering her, the sticky flesh walls, my middle finger scraping against her sensitive vagina. Aunt Green's breathing became heavier, but she didn't moan. Was she enduring it? But when I inserted my second ring finger, Aunt Green's buttocks tensed up, and she cried out, "Slow down..." Relying on the pornographic videos I had seen before, I imitated the male actors and frantically moved my fingers in and out. A large amount of vaginal fluid wet her labia as my fingers went in and out. I bent my fingers forward and forward, as if exploring something, until at a certain point, Aunt Green's reaction became very strong. At that moment, I knew that this was a woman's G-spot.

This is what it feels like to have sex with a woman for the first time. Compared to just watching videos and fantasizing about having sex with my mother, this is real sex with a mature woman. My penis was almost bursting at the seams. As my arms ached from rapidly withdrawing my fingers, I finally stopped. Aunt Green let out a long, soft moan. Looking at the wet patch on the sheets, I realized that women are so weak and powerless after an orgasm.

Taking advantage of Aunt Green's lingering weakness from her orgasm, he flipped her over onto her back, spread her legs apart, and lay on top of her. He wrapped his arms around her armpits, gripped her shoulders tightly, and kissed her lips. So this is what it feels like to kiss a woman.

While embracing and French kissing Aunt Green, I rubbed my penis against her vulva, the wet and sticky vaginal fluid covering my penis. Each rub would touch her clitoris. When the head of my penis pressed against the entrance of her vagina, I thrust forward and hugged Aunt Green tightly. Aunt Green seemed to want to say something but couldn't open her mouth because I sealed her mouth with my tongue. I didn't ask Aunt Green if she wanted it, but instead started thrusting directly, because I knew that even if Aunt Green refused, I wouldn't let this fragrant and beautiful woman go tonight.

The throbbing sensation in my lower body stimulated my penis. I greedily sucked on Aunt Green's collarbone. Her white shirt was already wrinkled from making love. Aunt Green's moans rose and fell. I felt like a male dog in heat, encountering a lonely married woman who had been lonely for many years, doing something unspeakable in the dead of night in Taichung.

After I ejaculated inside her, Aunt Green dragged her limp body to the bathroom shower. I helped her to the bathroom, and we both showered naked. I pulled Aunt Green into the jacuzzi, turned on the electric switch, and let her lean against me. I wrapped my arms around her, enjoying the undulating water in the jacuzzi.

"Aunt Green, can I... still do it?" I said.

Aunt Green, panting, said, "You really are... Don't let your mother know about this?" "No, I mean, did I make you feel good?" I said shamefully.

Aunt Green turned her head and said, "Shut up, or I won't give in anymore."

I hugged Aunt Green even tighter.

But little did I know that after going to university, my initial ambiguous feelings for Aunt Green began to transform into a different feeling because of my mother, like a burden on my mother's shoulders. This made me feel very uncomfortable about my trashy behavior for many years to come.

There was a time when I really disliked my mother, back when I first started university. Perhaps it was the disappointment I felt from her coldness during my three years of high school; I craved her affection, yet I also resented her indifference. It wasn't until after I met that beautiful woman in university that I slowly began to try to shift my mother's attention to her. Unfortunately, in the end, my lustful impulses returned to my mother.

Actually, my interest in mature women stemmed from Aunt Green, my mother's longtime best friend. As far back as I can remember, Aunt Green was always by my mother's side. She liked to visit when we were little, and whenever she came to my house, it was just the two of them—my mother and her child—having coffee. When I was studying in Taoyuan, Aunt Green had just opened a new coffee shop there.

To be honest, as a college student at the time, I was very eager to try sex. Moreover, because of my mother, I had a preference for mature women, so I naturally fantasized about all the women around me, including my mother. However, I rarely saw my mother, so I didn't have that kind of visual impact. In contrast, Aunt Green was close to my rented apartment and was also a coffee shop where I could study. Aunt Green was very good to me when I was a child. These factors made me less afraid of my new life as a freshman in college, and I also felt more love for my workaholic mother who couldn't take care of me. I more or less regarded Aunt Green as my mother.

Of course, this also included dealing with my sexual desires. I loved having Aunt Green help me with that too. It was a secret between the two of us, something I didn't even dare let my mother know. At that time, it was more like we were together because we were both lonely. Aunt Green and her husband rarely saw each other. Her husband spent many years buying green coffee beans at coffee plantations abroad. After a while, he even bought the women at those plantations, leaving his wife, Aunt Green, alone in Taiwan. Because Aunt Green couldn't get pregnant, she didn't have any children. Perhaps that's why she was neglected.

Actually, Aunt Green's appearance was alright, and she didn't have my mother's figure, but she was slender with long, delicate fingers, a sweet and coquettish voice, and a gentle and refined young woman. Every gesture made the customers look forward to drinking the coffee she brewed herself. No one knew that behind the bar, this respectable woman was actually having her private parts below her buttocks being teased by my penis. She calmly and professionally performed in front of the customers, while I, who was helping her, had my burning penis pressed against my pure white thighs, and the hot feeling was stimulating my nerves even more.

Yes, Aunt Green is very submissive, the kind of woman who enjoys being enslaved. Aunt Green once said that even if she doesn't want to be violated, harassed, or coerced on the surface, she actually enjoys the process. I only found out about Aunt Green's true nature after we had been in a loving relationship for almost a year.

Aunt Green said that whenever I held her hand and asked her to caress my penis, she would always beg. But when I forcefully asked her to continue, she could only rub my penis through my pants like a little woman. Just imagining that tone and command made Aunt Green orgasm.

So when I asked Aunt Green to masturbate me, she said no, but I deliberately took off my pants in front of her because I knew she wouldn't refuse. Later, when the cafe was closing, a young woman knelt under the counter, stroking my penis with her fingers. Even when I went further and asked Aunt Green to give me oral sex, she readily agreed. Later, because I wanted to penetrate her, I almost made her take off her underwear, lie on the counter, and let me thrust into her vagina forcefully.

Unfortunately, the opportunity to play with Aunt Green at the counter never came.

Aunt Green completely satiated my body. After class, we'd have sex at her rented apartment. The mature woman's lustful aura, her loneliness and emptiness, her desire for a young man's penis—every time we made love felt like she was draining me dry. This usually low-key, ordinary woman seemed liberated in bed. There weren't many moans or groans, only plaintive, pleading, and sorrowful cries, which fueled my animalistic urge to exploit her. Later, I realized that this was all just a performance Aunt Green put on to achieve a rougher sex experience.

Why am I talking about Aunt Green? I don't know. Maybe at that time I was having sex with her like a mother, but there's still a difference. During that time with Aunt Green, did I also see my mother as that kind of woman? Or perhaps the image of a mother I longed for?

I once did a cosplay in a coffee shop, and asked Green Aunt to put on a bunny girl costume, with her black hair tied into a high ponytail, bunny ears on her head, and a black leather armor on her upper body, exposing her white shoulders and breasts. Unfortunately, they were not as big as my mother, only a B-cup. If it were my mother, her entire accessory breast would have squeezed out of the bra on the vest.

There was a red bow tied around her neck, and the V-shaped high slit exposed her thighs. Her slender lower body, wearing fishnet stockings and a pair of black high heels, looked just like a woman in a hotel. I turned around and looked at her from head to tail. The rabbit tail above her buttocks made Aunt Green's ass look even more lustful.

Although Auntie Green's style is very appealing to the people, unfortunately, I still feel a little disappointed at the moment. I imagine what my mother would look like if she put on this outfit. My mother's voluptuous body, the flesh of her thighs would surely squeeze out of the mesh of her fishnet stockings, her buttocks would be even fuller, not to mention her breasts, which must be enormous.

I sat on a single sofa seat by the bar, and Aunt Green straddled me like a little bitch, looking at me with tender affection. Shyly, she held my glans, flipped open her vest to reveal her tender, luscious vulva, and with a soft "plop," my entire penis slid into her.

She began to twist her hips back and forth, and I could feel the pleasure of my penis going in and out of her vagina. Aunt Green's attire probably aroused her, as her entire penis was wet with her juices, and the squeezing of her vaginal walls brought the pleasure to my glans to a climax.

I remained completely still, like a monarch commanding his slaves. Aunt Green spread her fingers and intertwined them with mine. I looked at the glass display case opposite the sofa, which held all sorts of drinks. The glass reflected Aunt Green's white tail, her black vest tightly hugging her fleshy buttocks, with a bit of tender flesh squeezed at the edges. Watching Aunt Green's pert, voluptuous buttocks sway back and forth, left and right, rotating clockwise and counterclockwise, her serpentine waist twisting and turning, her juices flowing over my pubic hair, I felt so good that I wrapped my arms around Aunt Green's waist and took her pink nipple into my mouth.

Aunt Green was both passionate and ruthless. Our ambiguous moments in college allowed her to experience the taste of love, but also brought her disappointment in her husband and feelings of inferiority about her inability to have children. At this time, a young boy entered her life, like the turning of a wheel of fate. Aunt Green and I happened to be at that exact moment, connected.

I felt resentment towards my mother's indifference, while Aunt Green felt disappointment towards her husband's indifference. Our paths crossed at a crossroads. After our intersection, perhaps neither of us knew our initial thoughts, but through physical intimacy, we gradually came together. My initial infatuation with Aunt Green's mature body transformed into using her as a source of sexual gratification, like a mother figure.

The nipple in my tongue gradually hardened, and Aunt Green's breathing became heavier and heavier. I closed my eyes and teased Aunt Green with the tip of my tongue. The lines on her areola and the slightly raised dots made my tongue circle around the edge of her nipple. Aunt Green let out a long moan, which was the instinct of her body, which had been lonely for many years, to crave primal sexual impulses. A woman's moan represents the intertwining of excitement and pleasure from the bottom of her heart.

I held Aunt Green's waist with both hands, gently lifting her up before pressing down hard, pulling my penis completely out of her vagina. Then, supporting her slender waist with both hands, I thrust forcefully downwards, reaching deep inside her with each stroke. In the closed coffee shop, the moans of the slut echoed incessantly, as if telling a story.

I placed Aunt Green on the bar counter, spreading her legs in an M-shape, and crossed her arms. I held her hands tightly, the crossed arms squeezing and deforming her breasts. Because the bar counter was small, Aunt Green's head was suspended in mid-air, her face turned forward, looking at me with a sorrowful and resentful expression.

I quickened my thrusting, pulling Aunt Green's arms back tightly with both hands. The force of the deep thrusts caused my thighs to slap against hers, producing a satisfying slapping sound. Her high heels swayed with each thrust. As my speed increased, I suddenly stopped. After a moment, my penis trembled, and I ejaculated deep into her uterus. Aunt Green lay sprawled

on the counter like a puppet with its strings cut, her hair soaked with sweat. I lifted her down from the counter, kissing her forehead like a lover's tender care. Having ejaculated without pregnancy, at that moment, was I drawn to Aunt Green's melancholic nature, or to her forbidden young woman's body? My college life was filled with debauchery. As a naive high school student, I could never go back to the night I gave my virginity to Aunt Green. Back then, I had an ambiguous relationship with Aunt Green, made love to her, and when she came to our house, I would tease her behind my mother's back. I would blow and lick her vagina in the bathroom, and make her wear my mother's doctor's coat and stick out her buttocks for me to penetrate. Even when my mother was home, when Aunt Green was talking to my mother, I would secretly rub her beautiful buttocks when my mother turned away and wasn't paying attention. Aunt Green would pretend to be calm and act as if nothing had happened.

That period was my happiest memory. Because of Aunt Green, I no longer suppressed my thoughts of my mother; because of Aunt Green, I had a woman to release my sexual desires; because of Aunt Green, that shy and beautiful woman made me feel more present. But it was just an illusion.

After I went to university, my mother finally got her dental license. I thought I had let go of my mother, but I forgot that I had already permanently reserved a place for her in my heart. My mother became even busier, which completely disrupted my original plan to start a new life in university.

When I came to Taoyuan to study, the loneliness in my heart surged up again. Wasn't this just like the three years of high school? Nothing has changed, and nothing will change. Perhaps I am the truly cowardly little kid. I was like that in high school, and I was like that in college. It was around this time that I ended my affair with Aunt Green. But after meeting Aunt Green again in Taoyuan, I started to vent my frustrations on her as if she were my mother.

Could it be that what torments me in this world is not my mother, nor Aunt Green, but my own inescapable Oedipus complex? Unfortunately, I still haven't gotten over it back then, and perhaps I still haven't changed. I am still that same Oedipus boy.

Chapter Three: Summer on the East Coast of Hualien. The sweltering July heat arrived. My mother and I boarded the Taroko Express to Hualien. The train clattered along, passengers chatted amongst themselves, and an unknown movie soundtrack played in my headphones. Beside me, my beautiful mother was engrossed in a mobile game, like a child. Even with a mobile game, she had to win—perhaps it was her innate competitive spirit.

And me? I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts drift back to my student days. As far back as I can remember, my mother was always incredibly busy—studying, working, raising children. That's my impression of her as a young mother. I'm actually quite introverted, perhaps because I grew up under my mother's thumb. So, when it comes to social interactions, I always just go through the motions, putting on a show.

Everyone thought I was optimistic, but it was all an act. Some might wonder why I got involved with Aunt Green. At that time, I both admired and resented my mother, unable to understand why she was always working and didn't spend much time with me.

Even though I know all of this is for our better lives, I still feel resentful when I think about it carefully. Several times I've wondered if my mother's life would have been better if she hadn't given birth to me, instead of being so exhausted and mediocre as she is now.

When I first went to Aunt Lv's shop, I was actually very happy because I had attended a different school for three years of high school, and only now was I finally able to see my long-lost friend. Aunt Lv's real name is Lv Yi, but I jokingly call her Aunt Lv. She is about two years younger than my mother and was her junior at Yangming Medical School, under the same professor. We went up the same path. She was attracted to my mother's fearless personality, so we have been good friends ever since.

The coffee shop is located in a small alley in the bustling Taoyuan area, a rather secluded location. It specializes in specialty coffee, with fewer traditional Italian espresso options. The clientele is mostly regulars, operating on a membership system. It's not cheap to get in, given that Aunt Green is the only one running it, with a "make friends, money is secondary" attitude.

I was able to enter freely like a VIP because of Aunt Green. The coffee shop has a hipster vibe, with old photos, antiques, and old music, creating a relaxing environment. But thinking about it later, I wonder if this reflects Aunt Green's inner loneliness? After my penis got used to Aunt Green's oral sex, I would ask her to suck and lick me almost every time we met. Sometimes, when I didn't want to go back to my rented apartment, I would stay in the room on the second floor of the shop and ask Aunt Green to wear the coffee shop's uniform, which was basically just a black short, tight skirt, a white shirt, a dark red square scarf tied on her head, and canvas shoes. Most importantly, there was that black and gray apron with a bow on her waist and shoulders that flowed as she walked.

I grabbed Aunt Green's head and kept swallowing and spitting out my penis, making sure that the head of my penis reached her throat every time. Finally, I had to give her the first and most concentrated ejaculation orally. Seeing Aunt Green's eyes filled with pain, and how she choked when my penis was pulled out, that expression only fueled my animalistic desires.

"If I can't have my mother, then I'll have you. Anyway, my mother doesn't have time for me anymore, so you can obediently take her place. Whether it's my troubles or my sexual desires, you can solve them all for me."

That's what I thought at the time. To be honest, it's really ridiculous. I had sex with Aunt Green for these reasons.

When I pulled off the headscarf from Aunt Green's head, her long, shiny black hair spun out like a spiral. In the moonlight shining through the window, Aunt Green was simply breathtakingly beautiful in my eyes. Wearing black-rimmed glasses, her expression was always forced. Was this kind of woman just unlucky, or had she just not met the right person? Aunt Green lay on the bed like a puppy. I hooked the hem of her narrow skirt with my left hand and pulled it up to reveal her round buttocks. I pinched and rubbed them with both hands, then slapped them hard. My right hand held the head of my penis and rubbed it up and down against her vulva. I heard Aunt Green breathing heavily. I pulled Aunt Green's hair with my left hand and gently pulled it back, wanting her to look at me with tender eyes. Unfortunately, at that time I had a bit of a compulsive tendency.

When I pulled back hard with my left hand, causing Aunt Green's head to tilt upwards, she arched her fleshy buttocks like a U-shape, supporting her upper body with both hands. Her fair breasts swayed slightly. I held her humerus with my right hand and forcefully inserted my penis into her vagina. I used my right hand to squeeze Aunt Green's fleshy buttocks against my penis, allowing the glans to penetrate deeper. At this moment, Aunt Green let out a muffled groan.

"Is it all the way in?" Aunt Green's expression was slightly pained. After all, without the lubrication of foreplay and caresses, it felt dry when I inserted it. Although it wasn't very comfortable, the solid, enveloping feeling made my penis feel even more pleasure. I slowly pulled out, and Aunt Green slowly exhaled and said, "Don't use too much force."

Before she could finish the word "force," I couldn't help but thrust in and out forcefully.

The feeling of making love with a mature woman was so good it numbed my thoughts. The pleasure of having sex with a married woman seeped into my soul little by little. Since your husband doesn't want you anyway, why not be my woman and satisfy each other's sexual desires? I poured all the emptiness I felt from not being able to have my mother, and the loneliness I felt from my mother's indifference towards me because of her work, into Aunt Green.

I think Aunt Green probably won't understand why I love her so much. She might think that I, in my naivety, only chose her because I wanted a casual sex partner, or to satisfy my fetish for mature women. Or maybe it's just that college students are full of curiosity about sex. Those were just the various reasons that led me to contact Aunt Green at the beginning.

Once they were in bed, Aunt Green realized that all I wanted was the thrill of an affair. The lonely, seductive woman sat alone at the shop entrance, watching the crowds come and go. The cigarette she held in her hand, like a wisp of fragrance, drifted downwards under the yellow light above the shop entrance, revealing the truth beneath Aunt Green's smiling facade—a detached indifference born of worldly wisdom. Perhaps what initially attracted me to Aunt Green was that fleeting moment when she smiled broadly with her mother at home, a hint of loneliness lurking in her eyes when no one noticed.

I once thought I would be with Aunt Green forever. Back then, I loved her so much. Now, as I'm pushing and shoving Aunt Green's buttocks hard on the bed, I press down on her lower back with both hands, making her lie face down on the bed. I pull a pillow with my left hand so that Aunt Green's head can rest on it, and then use my left index finger to part Aunt Green's bangs to the left, revealing her right cheek, ear, and neck. I love looking at women like this, as if I'm admiring a work of art, carefully appreciating Aunt Green's tender ear.

Aunt Green enjoyed my blowing, licking, sucking, drilling, and biting. The rough surface of my tongue kept scratching her ears. A woman's ears are very sensitive. Although I didn't thrust, my penis remained inside her vagina. Every time I played with her earlobe, I could feel Aunt Green's vagina contracting and clamping my penis due to excitement.

I used my left hand to pull Aunt Green's right shoulder back, exposing her right breast completely in front of me. My right hand directly supported the lower edge of Aunt Green's right breast with the base of my thumb and forefinger, and then, like wrapping a dumpling, I contracted it inward, as if my thumb and forefinger formed a C. The lower edge of the C supported the breast, and then my thumb and forefinger slowly moved inward to form a V. This squeezed the breast, and finally, the point where my thumb and forefinger touched could pinch the nipple, stimulating Aunt Green's sensitive area.

I repeatedly held the lower edge of her breasts, first squeezing and shaking them from side to side, then using my palms to enjoy the soft, tender feel of a mature woman's breasts. Finally, I pinched her nipples with my fingers, then spread them open, like playing a piano, and moved them up and down, rubbing them between my fingers. My lower body unconsciously twisted my waist, my thighs just clamping around Aunt Green's fleshy buttocks, my penis carrying the wet, lustful fluid from Aunt Green's played breasts, enjoying the pleasure of this night's sexual intercourse.

"Anyone want a bento?" A waitress at Taroko Gorge, dressed in a Taiwan Railway uniform, a pretty young woman with a shapely figure, pushed a food cart back and forth in the middle of the train aisle, pulling me back to reality from my dozing reverie. When I woke up, the view outside the window had changed to an endless sea, the sky so bright blue, the ocean so deep indigo. I could almost smell the summer air, and the lewd atmosphere emanating from the woman next to me.

When my mother handed me the bento she had just paid for, I had accidentally gotten an erection because I had been fantasizing about Aunt Green during my dozing, so I kept pulling my shirt down to cover it up, at least to make it less noticeable. My mother seemed to notice, and gave me a strange smile.

As I held the bento box to put it on my desk, my mother wouldn't let go. I asked, puzzled, "Mom, why won't you give it to me?" She grinned mischievously and said, "This bento is for good kids, not bad kids."

"How am I bad?" I said innocently.

"Who knows what you were thinking just now? You're so lecherous!" my mother pouted.

"Oh my god, okay, since Mom looks so good today, I'll just...!" I said casually.

My mother said hastily, "Who knows if you miss me or not? You think you can do this just because you miss me? If you let me see you, you'll eat me alive."

"Mom..." I protested, drawing out the last syllable. My mother then stuck out her tongue and let go of my hand to let me take the lunchbox. As I relaxed and put the lunchbox on the table, my mother suddenly grabbed my half-erect penis with her right hand. Although I was wearing ordinary fitted trousers today, my penis was still bulging out tightly.

"Still so hard? Confess now, what were you thinking about?" My mother asked playfully, like a child.

I nervously replied, "Mom, stop it, there are people around."

"You just love excitement, tell me now, or I'll break it. I think it's fine if you break it, since you only ever do things to me anyway."

My mother gave me a disapproving look.

"Okay, okay, Mom's wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt today, and my breasts are all bulging out. I was thinking how nice it would be to massage them, so I was just thinking about that."

I blurted out in a panic.

My mother finally released my penis, then flicked my glans with her finger and said, "If you keep thinking like that, I won't dress up anymore."

How could I honestly tell her that I was just thinking about having sex with Aunt Green? But why would my mother pinch me like that? And what did she mean by saying she would never dress up again? Didn't my mother forbid me from thinking about our incestuous relationship? So why did she say she wouldn't dress up anymore? Did she dress up just for my sake? So many questions, but I quickly composed myself. Knowing my mother's personality, I shouldn't think too much, lest it be just me overthinking again. The bridge between my mother and me, which has been gradually repaired, needs to be built step by step.

Even so, my semi-erect penis was still painfully swollen, so I had to go to the bathroom to straighten my underwear. Because I was sitting by the window and my mother was by the aisle, as I stepped over her feet to leave, I accidentally tripped over her foot, and my genitals were directly in front of her face, only five centimeters away, just enough to touch her cheek.

In that instant, my mother looked at my genitals and shyly turned her head away. It was the first time I had ever seen my mother with that expression, that kind of mature woman's unexpected and shy expression, which made my semi-erect penis fully erect, so I hurriedly rushed to the bathroom.

In the cramped train toilet, I held my rock-hard penis, unable to urinate no matter how hard I tried. I could only slowly rub it, thinking of my mother's shy expression. My mother was like fire, passionate and fiery; Aunt Green was like water, gentle and tender. One was the dominant one, the other the submissive one. Both were women I loved dearly. Aunt Green was so elegant, almost my ideal dream girl—wealthy, working at a coffee shop, a wife neglected by her husband, gentle towards men, a typical submissive woman, embracing me like water. No matter the pain in my life, Aunt Green always listened silently, making me realize I was no longer alone.

And my mother? During my student days, I resented my mother's lack of concern for me. Now that I've moved back home to live with her, her passion remains. She exudes a strong mature woman's hormones, and her tangible body is hard to ignore. Her queen-like words are seductive, possessing both the authority of a mother and the enthusiasm of a lively, silly older sister. I don't know whether she feels happy or enjoys this ambiguous feeling about her son's love for her.

I fantasize that because of what happened just now, my penis is pressed tightly against my mother's large breasts. I then pull my blushing mother up and half-pull her into the bathroom, making her sit on the toilet seat. My mother's proud eyes are full of disdain. I can only beg her, have pity on your precious son, please help me, I'm going crazy.

My mother could only say coquettishly, "Do you want me to zip up your pants? To take your penis out for you?" I slowly loosened my pants, revealing my huge penis. The glans looked even more stimulating under my mother's gaze. My mother was stunned for a moment. I took my mother's hand and asked her to caress it for me. My mother resisted a couple of times at first, but she couldn't resist me. In the end, she held my penis and began to stroke it.

If the passengers on the train knew that this mother and son were in the restroom, and that the beautiful woman was actually masturbating her son, I don't know what they would think. Thinking about this kind of fantasy about incestuous motherhood made me speed up my hand movements, continuing to fantasize about my mother masturbating. My mother's expression was complicated, but she wanted me to come quickly. I had no choice but to say to my mother, "Mom, please, I want oral sex."

My mother glared at me and said, "No, don't even think about it."

"Then can I see your cleavage? That way I'll ejaculate faster."

My mother frowned, lost in thought.

I unbuttoned my mother's shirt, revealing a low-cut U-neck camisole underneath. Her two round, full breasts bulged against the camisole, and the deep V-shaped cleavage of her breasts was right in front of me. I ran my fingers along the cleavage from top to bottom. My mother symbolically tried to stop me, but I grabbed her right hand with my left. My mother released my penis with her left hand, and I had no choice but to say, "Mom, hurry up... Don't you want me to come faster? Then help me."

Only then did my mother reluctantly grasp my penis.

My mother rhythmically moved up and down, pulling the foreskin down to expose the glans. She would pull the foreskin back up to cover the glans, then pull it back up again. With her left hand encircling the lower edge of the glans, each up-and-down motion rubbed against the glans, making it incredibly pleasurable. I released my mother's right hand and used both hands to pull her pantyhose up from the bottom because I wanted to see her bra. My mother's abdomen was flat, but with a bit of mature woman's flesh. The pearl-white bra, designed in the shape of a seashell, steadily covered and supported her large breasts.

When I pointed my glans at my mother's cleavage, she glared at me again. She had initially wanted to do a nipple play, but then decided against it. My mother started to get impatient and said, "My hand is tired, you can do it yourself."

After saying that, my mother got up to leave. I panicked and had no choice but to grab the quick-acting masturbator myself. When my mother stood up and started to fasten the buttons on her chest, I buried my face in them. Her huge breasts were soft and fluffy against my face, and the milky scent mixed with my mother's body fragrance made me even more confused and infatuated.

Using my sense of touch, I pressed my chin against the top of her bra and flipped it down, exposing my mother's right breast completely. She hurriedly put her camisole over my head, trying to push me away. Judging by my position, I opened my mouth and sucked hard—successfully, her nipple was in my mouth.

Her movements slowed immediately, and I began to suckle. "No…stop…okay,"

my mother said, trembling.

It turned out that her nipples were her erogenous zones. I licked them clockwise with the tip of my tongue, then counterclockwise. My mother's left hand tightly gripped my right, while my right hand embraced her, holding her breasts against me so I could play with her nipples. I then rapidly licked her nipples, adding sucking, releasing, blowing, licking repeatedly, sucking hard, biting lightly, and playing with them in various ways. I licked her areolas vigorously, and my mother was completely lost in a daze, slumped against me.

I used my left hand to pull my mother's right hand to caress my penis. My mother was too weak to masturbate, so I had to put her back on the mat. When my mother glared at me angrily, I pointed my penis in front of her eyes and quickly masturbated. "Mom... let me ejaculate in your mouth."

My mother shook her head.

"Then I'll ejaculate on your face?" "You dare?" the mother roared.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I can't hold back anymore. Wait, you don't need to use your mouth to catch it, I'll just shoot it on your face and get your clothes dirty. I can't take it anymore, I'm going to come, ah..." My mother stubbornly refused to open her mouth, so I had to pull down her panty again in that instant, revealing her full cleavage. My glans pressed directly against the middle of her cleavage, and thick, white semen shot into her cleavage in spurts. Watching the semen slide down her cleavage, my mother's chest heaved with her breath. I grabbed my penis and smeared the remaining semen on my nipples. My mother's face flushed red, and then she pushed me back, hurriedly grabbing a tissue from the side, flipping her breasts open, and wiping away the semen in the middle of her cleavage. My penis was still throbbing after I ejaculated, so I could only lean against the wall and watch my mother tidy her clothes.

After my mother made sure everything was tidied up, she left the bathroom, kicked my shin with her toe, and then elbowed me hard in the stomach. I was in so much pain that I almost knelt down. Watching my mother sway her hips as she left the bathroom, the thought of her fiery image made me want to scream. Although the scene had already made me ejaculate, the thought of her subsequent actions made me think, "Oh well, it's better to just think about it." I didn't want to risk being verbally abused by her sharp tongue. Just having these thoughts would make me feel incredibly jealous.

After my penis had softened from ejaculation, I returned to my seat from the bathroom. My mother looked at me suspiciously. "Why did it take so long?" "My stomach hurt, so it took a little longer,"

I replied.

My mother smiled strangely and said, "That long?" "Really, if you don't believe me, fine... wait, there's something more to your words."

I stared at my mother and said.

"You're overthinking it, haha."

My mother covered her mouth and laughed. My mother was actually making a dirty joke at me? I tried to reply, "Whether it lasts or not depends on the person."

"Depends on who?" my mother asked.

"If she has a good figure, is beautiful, and has a lively and cheerful personality, she'll last longer,"

I said, looking at my mother.

My mother lowered her head slightly and said, "I really envy that person."

I held her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. I saw in them the untold hardships and helplessness she had endured for so many years. First, she had been alone for many years without the comfort of a man. Second, her son had fallen in love with her and wanted to commit incest. If she were to abandon her identity as a mother, what identity would she have to face her son in the future? Lover? Mistress? Wife? No matter which one, it wouldn't last forever. Perhaps only after finding a reason that could convince herself would she one day accept her son's feelings.

I tried to kiss my mother, but she took the initiative and gently kissed my forehead, my face brushing against her breast—it felt amazing. When I tried to continue with a French kiss, she haughtily said, "Did you say you could touch me?" I was speechless.

The moment I stepped out of the train station, the clean air of Hualien cleared my head considerably. In the distance, mountains stretched endlessly, and on the other side, I could see the ocean—a sight I couldn't see in Taipei. Soon after, my mother's relatives picked us up in their car, and we drove into the city.

Along the way, all sorts of tourists came into view. I tried to ask myself, was this really worth it? Did my mother deserve a better man? I had never thought about these questions before, and only today am I beginning to understand how childish my behavior was.

Should I cling to my mother like a little devil? Sigh, thinking too much makes my head ache. When I arrived at my grandmother's house, the Amis people's hospitality was truly impressive. Everyone was playfully teasing each other, singing, and even I, a wanderer who rarely returns, was immersed in the atmosphere.

Watching my mother drinking and laughing heartily with her relatives, I wondered if she had released a lot of pressure. I walked outside alone. The night sky over Hualien was beautiful, but my feelings were incredibly complex. After all, at this dividing line, whether we move closer or further away, no one knows whether my mother and I will end up well or badly.

In the middle of the night, everyone was completely drunk. My grandmother asked me to help my mother back to her bedroom. My mother reeked of millet wine and started rambling incoherently as she lay on the bed. Looking at my mother, with her mature figure, I could even claim that having sex with her was her own choice. I swallowed hard, my rational mind struggling, lost in fantasies.

What would it be like if I went to bed with my mother because she was drunk? My fiery mother, taking the initiative to French kiss me, her mouth filled with the taste of alcohol. Because of the alcohol, my mother had become lustful and wanton, all sorts of lewd words ringing in my ears. Would she willingly give me oral sex? As I helped my mother upstairs, I let her hang her left hand behind my neck, while I held her waist with my right hand. We walked slowly up the stairs, the faint fragrance of her body mixed with the scent of alcohol filling my mouth.

That evening, after my mother took a bath, she changed into a loose-fitting floral dress, light blue with a white background. This made her look much younger. She walked barefoot on the cold floor. As I supported her, I stole glances at her body. If I moved my hand down, I could caress her buttocks through the thin dress, and I could probably even touch her underwear. If I moved my hand up, I could probably casually brush against her side breast.

As I entered the room, my mother lay sprawled on the bed, her short, black hair disheveled, her lips thick and fragrant. The summer night was unusually sweltering; sweat beaded on her forehead and collarbone, and her dress was soaked through. I turned on the air conditioner and fan, and the oppressive heat made me take off my shirt as well.

My mother unconsciously pulled her long skirt up, perhaps because of the heat. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her firm, tanned thighs, and slowly, fantasies of incest began to surface in my mind. I hoped she would pull her skirt up a little more so I could see her underwear; her inner thighs were drenched in sweat.

My grandmother's house was a detached house in the city, a three-story building.

The Amis relatives in the living room on the first floor like to drink together. The living room faces the door, and there is an open space in front where you can barbecue. They especially like to barbecue wild boar. A large piece of three-layered black wild boar is rubbed with a thick layer of salt, placed on the barbecue grill, and gently roasted over charcoal. While waiting, they drink some millet wine and chat about everything under the sun. In this atmosphere tonight, my mother seems to have put aside her identity as a dentist and a single mother, and returned to the little girl she was in her childhood, nestled in her grandmother's arms, and talking about the most beautiful and earliest times of her childhood.

The air conditioning gradually cooled down, and the temperature in the room finally began to drop, making me feel much more comfortable. My mother had already pulled her long skirt up to her waist, revealing the kind of panties that mature women would wear—a pair of black lace panties with a semi-transparent material that revealed pubic hair, which covered her vulva and swelled into a small hill. The dress was sleeveless, with two thin straps hanging on her shoulders, which had already slipped down her arms, exposing half of her breasts to my eyes. Unlike the usual large-breasted beauties, most people's habit is that beautiful breasts must be large, white, tender, and soft like teardrops.

The biggest reason I'm obsessed with my mother is her breasts. They have a healthy wheat-colored complexion, are firm and round, and can't be held in one hand. Unlike the loose, large breasts of most mature women, my mother's are big and elastic. When she lies down, her breasts don't droop too much. Although I've never seen them, my mother usually wears a bra. But the most alluring thing is the deep cleavage. Sweat drips onto the cleavage, making the summer night even more arousing.

I took a towel and wiped the sweat from my mother's forehead to prevent her from catching a chill from the air conditioning. I slowly wiped her forehead, face, behind her ears, neck, and collarbone. It was the first time I had seen my mother's breasts so closely. I gently placed my left hand on her half-exposed breast. The elasticity and smoothness of her breasts when my fingertips first touched them aroused me even more. "If I hook my fingers on her bra and dress and pull down hard, I can see her nipples, right?" I murmured to myself. But I still pulled back. I picked up the towel, wet it, wrung it out, and gently wiped the sweaty areas on my mother's arms, shoulders, and chest. Finally, I moved to her lower body and sat down next to her calves.

My mother's bare feet were so beautiful, like jade lotuses encased in stockings, with the curves of her calves and her firm thighs with a touch of middle-aged woman's flesh. Whether it was traditional black stockings, bunny girl fishnet stockings, or nurse's white pantyhose, all sorts of fantasy cosplays made me fantasize about my mother countless times. I slightly parted my mother's thighs, but found that it was still difficult to wipe, so I spread her legs wider and wider, and accidentally turned them into an M-shaped spread. I didn't expect my mother to be so flexible. Her panties and vulva were right in front of me. I could just flip up her panties and insert directly.

I felt my throat was very dry. Since I didn't have a chance to make love with my mother anyway, I might as well take advantage of my drunkenness and have sex with her. I knelt in front of my mother with her legs spread in an M-shape, loosened my pants, and my already engorged penis was ready to enter my mother's body. My breathing was rapid and my heart was beating very fast.

"Go ahead and insert it, Mom won't find out. Go ahead and insert it, what if she wakes up?" A demon in my heart arose. I still couldn't forget the taste of the previous night's strong sex. Anyway, since Mom is still drunk, what's wrong with fucking her ass? That's right, maybe Mom will even cooperate and keep twisting her waist and swaying her hips on me, moving herself? Maybe she'll even suck on my index finger that I put in her mouth like a slut, twisting her ass like a woman on top, like a slut in heat, shouting that she wants her son to fuck her to death, saying things like "What a big cock, so thick, so hot, go in deeper," and other lewd things. I watched my mother's breasts rise and fall, swaying until I was dizzy.

I gripped my mother's right buttock with my right hand, squeezing, slapping, pinching, and flicking it. My four fingers hooked around her buttocks, prying them open to the right, stretching her anus. My left thumb pressed against her clitoris, rubbing it up and down incessantly. My mother trembled with pleasure. As soon as she stopped moving, I thrust my hips forward, forcefully pushing my penis up.

My mother had no choice but to continue, enjoying the rubbing of her clitoris in front and the scratching of her buttocks and anus from behind. The greatest pleasure of having a mother is making her willingly have sex with you. But my mother is not like other mothers and sons, most of whom are forced, coerced, or seduced by their sons. Although I admit that it feels good and gives a sense of conquest, true success lies in conquering a highly educated woman like my mother.

You're thrusting hard in bed, and your mother, because of the deep penetration, keeps having orgasms and her juices flow freely. When you want to change positions, she'll say with a haughty air, "It's not so bad, is it? A young man's penis is nothing special," using these contrasting words to arouse your animalistic instincts.

The thought of your mother's proud demeanor while giving you oral sex creates an indescribable pleasure. You can't describe it; you can only close your eyes and let your glans savor the sensation of her slender, saliva-laden lips sucking harder, even after you've already ejaculated inside her, she continues to suck your penis.

But no, what if I wake up? It's even better when you wake up. Ask your mother if she loves your penis while you're thrusting in and out. This makes your mother feel both ashamed and comfortable. She might scold you verbally, but as you thrust wildly into her vagina, she has no choice but to let you press down on her and let your son's penis go in and out of her body.

As I tried to pull up my mother's underwear, a flood of thoughts rushed through my mind. For some reason, Aunt Green's face flashed through my mind: my mother coming home from work in her dentist's coat, scolding me angrily for my poor grades; the graduation ceremony the year I graduated high school, hoping my mother could find time to see me, even just for a short while, I would be content. Unfortunately, from the beginning to the end of the ceremony, I never saw my mother; the only thing she sent was a congratulatory text message.

My mood plummeted. I put on my pants, settled my mother in, and draped a blanket over her. Looking at her slightly weathered face, I realized that while makeup can conceal a person's true feelings, what about their heart? I walked out of the room to the drying area on the third floor, then climbed up the iron stairs next to the water tower to the roof.

I lay on the roof, where the temperature from the sun began to dissipate in the middle of the night, making it warm and cozy. The stuffiness made me dizzy, and a cool breeze swept over me. So many distant memories, like an old photo album, turned page by page with the passage of time, back to my youthful days.

The year I entered high school, I wanted to save money for my family, so I planned to go to military school. However, my mother didn't want me to go. I don't know why, but it might be because of her. I boarded at school in Kaohsiung. Since I had no relatives there, I had to work part-time. The reason I had a relationship with Aunt Green in college was because her friend's daughter was also studying in Tainan. That's how we met. But that's not the point, because Aunt Green only appeared a few times during my high school years.

Most of the time, I got to know her when I moved back home in my senior year. During that time, Aunt Green would often come to visit. It wasn't until I left home to study in Taoyuan that we started to be together. But after all that, as a high school student at the time, I had a lot to say to my mother, but I never had the chance.

Actually, at that time, I didn't want to study in the south at all. I wanted to live with my mother, even though she was busy with work and didn't have much time to take care of me. But the summer before I was in my first year of high school, I went to the beach with my mother. Because my mother's one-piece tight swimsuit was so sexy, I even went to the bathroom to masturbate. There were often men staring at my mother on the beach. My mother's figure before the swimsuit was covered up was very impressive.

At that time, I thought that I needed to be more mature and not become a burden to my mother, so I chose to study in a dormitory. After I separated from my mother, I began to regret it. I spent three long, lonely nights. Whenever there was a holiday, my classmates would always go home to eat their mothers' cooking, but what about me? Those three years of torment and longing led me to pour all my love into letters, which I also showed to my mother. Back then, I was a university student, and in order to forget my mother, I chose Aunt Green. But I never imagined that this would be the beginning of a real mistake. Physical pleasure was undeniable, but the emotional longing for my mother would always remain.

Whenever I was having sex with Aunt Green, I would often fantasize that my mother was on the bed, and the woman I was having sex with was my mother. Although I felt sorry for Aunt Green, I truly loved her in the early and middle stages of our relationship. However, in the end, it was only for the release of my sexual desire that we got together. Perhaps Aunt Green understood this as well.

At first, I only harbored feelings of love for my mother, wanting to grow up quickly and become a man she could rely on. But the more I suppressed my feelings, the more painful it became. I wanted to express this longing, but I couldn't, because I knew it was wrong.

In this world, what mother would accept her own son? Caught in this conflict, I became depressed and helpless, and could only fantasize about my mother. Whenever she called, I would take the opportunity to caress my penis, listen to her voice, and imagine what she looked like, what she was doing. I imagined her voice as that of a slut seducing her son, engaging in sexual arousal over the phone.

Hiding in my dorm room as a high school student, whenever I called my mother, I always hoped she would talk more. Several times, I almost couldn't resist telling her I wanted to have sex with her over the phone. I had fantasized about it many times: a lonely son studying away from home, begging his mother to call him for sex. Perhaps because we weren't face-to-face, my mother became uninhibited, saying all sorts of lewd things, just to let her son release his energy.

Maybe while she was saying those lewd things, she started stroking her clitoris herself. Both of us were fantasizing that the other was masturbating. The lewd things my son said only aroused our sexual desire. Finally, that night, my son ejaculated all over the toilet paper, and my mother's thighs were covered in sticky vaginal fluid. I could hear my mother's panting on the phone.

Several times I hoped my mother would come to the school to see me, just to dispel my longing and lust. Taking advantage of the weekend when the dormitory was empty, my mother dressed casually, like an ordinary woman. Under the pressure of the senior year exams, she couldn't resist my pleas and drove to Taichung in the middle of the night. I also took a car to Taichung. My mother kept scolding me for being bad while driving. Knowing my mother's temper, I really couldn't win against her, so I reluctantly came to see me.

Taking advantage of the weekend when no one was around, my mother said she was going to my dormitory under the guise of parental authority. As soon as we entered the room, I immediately kissed my mother, our tongues intertwined and exchanging saliva. I pulled my mother's hand to touch my penis. My mother looked at me with disdain and told me to sit properly. With my mother's proud attitude, how could she possibly kneel in front of me to masturbate me? I had no choice but to take off my pants and expose my penis. My mother angrily said that if it weren't for me lying to her that I was under so much pressure that I wanted to die, she would never have done such a thing. After my desperate pleas, she had no choice but to lock the door, reveal her slender fingers, and start masturbating her son. I lay on the bed, looking at my mother's face, so impatient, yet she was still stroking my penis. It felt

so good. I really wished my mother could help me release my sexual desire and become my slutty mother. At that time, that's really what I thought. As a high school student, Man Nanzi only had sex, wanted to have sex with his mother, liked the charm of mature women, enjoyed the pleasure of being a wife, and more importantly, the secret affair brought about by mother-son incest.

After enjoying the breeze on the rooftop for a while, I went back to my room and saw my mother fast asleep. Although my lustful thoughts about her grew stronger, how could I force her? I lay down next to her, closed my eyes, and quickly drifted off to sleep because of exhaustion. The sound of the air conditioner whirring in my ears grew fainter and fainter, and the murmuring sound was just like my mother's bedtime murmurs every night before I went to sleep, so calm and peaceful.

When I was half-awake, it was just getting light. I got up and checked the time on my phone. I didn't expect the glaring light to wake my mother. She asked me what time it was, still half asleep. When she found out it was five, she closed her eyes again. Then she snuggled into my arms and whispered in my ear, "I'm still drunk, you know?" Her breath was on my face. I moved my lips closer to hers again. She didn't speak. This time, I asked first, "Mom... can I kiss you?" We remained silent, but the soft, sweet lips on my lips spoke volumes.

Half-asleep, I woke up just as dawn was breaking. I found my genitals swollen from morning erection, pressing against a soft, fleshy body. Last night, I think I had just come in from outside and was so hot that I had just pulled down to my underwear and lay down next to my mother to sleep.

Now, when I woke up, I subconsciously mistook my mother for Aunt Green, lying on my side and embracing her waist from behind. My mother was also lying on her side, my penis pressed tightly against her buttocks, and I subconsciously rubbed against her buttocks. This was the position I had taken the day after having sex with Aunt Green.

I wondered if my mother had already noticed. She was lying on her side with her back to me, her waistline shaped like a Coke bottle. The hem of her skirt was still up to her waist, and her entire buttocks were exposed in front of me. Although it wasn't that bright yet, in the hazy vision, I could see that her fleshy buttocks were distorted by lying on her side, and her black underwear was being pulled along with her large buttocks. A bit of underwear was still stuck in her cleft. My erect penis was only a short distance away from my mother's buttocks.

"Just a little bit more, right..." I told myself. I moved my body closer to my mother, lowering my penis to the front of her buttocks. My heart had never raced so fast in my life. I slowly pushed my hips forward, letting my penis press against the middle of my mother's buttocks, gently against her underwear. I pressed down a little more, letting my penis sink into the cleft, and then stopped.

Enjoying the elasticity of my mother's buttocks, I wondered, "Mom... won't wake up now?" I felt nervous, afraid of being discovered and dying. But it also felt good. I started to rub gently up and down, the glans sliding along the cleft, finally pressing against my mother's vulva, slowly rubbing against her through her underwear.

I was so overwhelmed with pleasure that I couldn't speak. I wanted to use my mother's thighs for leg sex, but I was afraid that if I moved too much, she would wake up. So I just followed the cleft of her buttocks, thrusting all the way to

her vagina. I swallowed hard, listening to my mother's breathing. She seemed to be still fast asleep, probably because of the effects of the alcohol; she still felt very tired. By this time, I was fully awake. My left hand couldn't help but start stroking, fantasizing about my mother's naked buttocks. "Want to touch? Will touching wake me up? Then don't pinch or rub."

With my right hand, I slowly pulled my mother's panties towards the middle of her buttocks, making them a line, sinking deep into the cleft. My mother's wheat-colored, plump buttocks were in front of me. Was this the buttocks I had pinched and rubbed last time? As I pressed my penis against half of her buttocks again and began rubbing it up and down, my mother pulled her skirt down behind her with her right hand, covering her buttocks. I stopped abruptly, only able to hear my own breathing. Had my mother noticed? I pressed my penis forward again, rubbing it through her dress. My mother flinched, but I persisted. She pushed my body forward with her right hand, preventing me from moving forward. I couldn't see her face, so I didn't know her expression, but at that moment I was completely horny. I grabbed her hand and touched my penis. As soon as she touched my genitals, she pulled her hand back. Then I held onto her thighs, squeezing her buttocks against my penis. My entire penis was tightly enveloped by her buttocks—such soft ass.

"Have you made a scene yet?" my mother yelled at me. I was stunned for a moment, then released her buttocks. Since I came home, my mother had never yelled at me like that. At first, I felt ashamed, but then for some reason, I became sullen and turned my back to her to continue sleeping.

I had always thought it would be as I imagined: my mother, feeling sorry, would hug me and rub her large breasts against my back. I grabbed my mother's left hand with my left hand and wrapped it around my waist, wanting her to touch my penis. My mother struggled for a moment, then sighed in my ear, "You think you're so bold?" "Mom, please, please, just this once,"

I pleaded.

"Still being stubborn?" my mother said.

"I can't do it anymore, Mom, hurry up!" "You're so annoying, why are you hard so early in the morning?"

my mother said dismissively.

"Boys are all like this in the morning,"

I said.

I took off my underwear, revealing my penis, and pulled my mother's hand to hold my penis. The warmth of my mother's palm made my lower body even more engorged and hot. I grabbed my mother's hand and stroked it up and down. My mother moved symbolically twice and then stopped, and then withdrew her hand. This time I grabbed my mother's hand and pulled it back, and called out, "Mom..." Only then did my mother reluctantly grip my penis again, "Shut up and babble," my mother muttered.

My mother gripped my genitals tightly with her five fingers, pushing the foreskin up to cover the glans. She pinched the foreskin between her index finger and thumb, quickly rubbing the glans with her mouth. The glans, slippery under the foreskin, became even more stimulating with her constant rubbing – it felt amazing! Then, she formed an "O" shape with her thumb and forefinger, tightly encircling the lower edge of the glans, and forcefully pulled the foreskin back completely, revealing the bright red glans.

"Mom, it hurts!" I protested.

My mother chuckled and said, "If you're naughty, I'll deliberately squeeze harder. Don't you like me gripping your penis?" "Mom, you're too direct, it sounds lewd,"

I said.

"You expect me to masturbate you, and you still have the nerve to call me a pervert?" my mother said, stroking herself.

I rolled over and lay down, pulling my mother onto me so she would lie on her side. My mother frowned and said, "Trying to treat me like an AV actress?" I didn't say anything, but my eyes told her that I really wanted her right now. My mother could only look at me while stroking myself with her left hand.

Her half-naked, huge breasts were pressed directly against my chest, squeezing and deforming them, making the cleavage even deeper. My mother looked at me and said, "If you lick my breasts again this time, I'll break you right here and take your last name, you understand?" She said it, but I was still scared. My penis wanted to enjoy my mother's tenderness a little longer.

"Mom, I'm about to cum... Hurry up!" I looked at my mother with hazy eyes. She looked back at me and quickened the pace of her left hand. A feeling of wanting to ejaculate surged through me. My mother said, "Hurry up, my hand is sore." "

Mom, I'm about to come, I want to cum in your hand."

As I shouted, I immediately started masturbating, not giving my mother a chance to dodge. I made her open her hand, and my glans pressed against her palm. A thick stream of semen gushed out. As my penis throbbed, spurts of semen shot out. My mother opened her left palm, and the foul-smelling semen flowed on her fingertips. "It stinks and smells, and you're not even going to get me some toilet paper?"

my mother said angrily.

I pointed my penis next to my mother's hand and said, "Mom, give me another thrust, please."

"You, sigh,"

my mother said.

My mother's left hand was covered in semen as she gripped my penis and began to stroke it. Her entire penis was sticky, and my mother looked bewildered. This was understandable; if others found out about this, it would be disastrous.

"Mom, the second round is almost over. Grandma and the others are downstairs. Hurry up,"

I said deliberately to provoke my mother.

My mother frowned and said, "If you keep talking nonsense, I won't help you anymore."

However, my mother's movements became faster, making me feel like I wanted to ejaculate again. This time, I stood up and pointed my penis at my mother's face. My mother was puzzled at first, but then she became even more displeased when she realized what I was going to do.

"Mom, please, Grandma will be coming up to call us down for breakfast soon, please!" I said as I brought the head of my penis close to my mother's mouth. My mother pushed my thighs with both hands, not letting me move forward. At this moment, Grandma's voice really came from outside the door, "Get up!!!" Grandma shouted outside the door and turned the doorknob to come in. My mother immediately jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to block it, afraid that Grandma would see this scene.

A middle-aged woman, having spent the night with her son, woke up in the morning to find her breasts half-naked and her left hand covered in a thick liquid. Anyone entering the room and seeing this scene, smelling the stench in the air, would roughly guess what had happened. The mother cried out, "Grandma, don't come in yet, I'm not dressed."

Seeing her so anxious amused me, I made a face at her, and she gave me the middle finger.

"But isn't your son in the room? Why aren't you dressed?" the grandmother asked.

"No, he woke up a while ago and went out for a walk."

My mother finally locked the door. As she was about to walk back to the bed, I pushed her against the door and turned her over, thrusting my genitals hard into her buttocks. My mother stared at me with wide eyes. Then I pulled down her underwear. My mother held onto it tightly with her right hand. In the struggle, someone bumped into the door, making a loud noise. My

mother and I both stopped. "What are you doing? Trying to demolish the house?"

my grandmother said.

My mother hurriedly shouted, "It's nothing, it's nothing, I just tripped."

At this moment, I held my penis and pressed the head against her vulva, trying to thrust upwards. However, because my mother kept twisting her hips, I couldn't penetrate her even after two or three attempts. My mother kept trying to turn around so that her buttocks faced the door, so I couldn't directly hold her buttocks and fuck her from behind. I thought that wouldn't work either, so I took a step back and simply let my mother turn around so that she was facing me. When she tried to say something, I pointed to the door to indicate that my aunt could hear me, and my mother gave up. When my aunt called my mother again, I took advantage of the moment when my mother was distracted, and directly reached my hands into her skirt, hooked her lace panties, and pulled them down to her ankles.

My mother tried to bend over to put on her underwear, and I seized the opportunity to grab her hair and shove my penis directly into her mouth, all the way to her throat. Because of the underwear on her ankles, she couldn't walk at all and almost fell over with every step. With each thrust, the head of my penis hit her throat, and she made unintelligible sounds. Then my aunt called out "Mother" a few more times, and my mother glared at me, brushed my hand away, stood up, coughed twice, and said, "It's okay, it's okay, Grandma." "Go eat first... ah ah ah..." As my mother spoke, I faced her directly, making her lean against the door. I lifted her left leg with my right hand, held my penis with my left hand, and thrust into her vagina again. My mother pushed against my chest with both hands, trying to stop me from entering. But before I could finish speaking, my glans pressed against her vulva, and with a thrust of my waist, I slowly inserted myself into the honeypot that my mother had held onto until the very last moment.

Knock knock knock, there was a knock on the door. "What's wrong? Are there cockroaches? Why are you making such a racket? Is it a ghost?" Grandma shouted from outside the door.

My mother said, "Grandma, you were right. It's a pity she's already... I... killed her..." I started to slowly thrust in and out. I didn't expect my mother's private parts to be so wet. The feeling of my penis being tightly enveloped by those fleshy walls was incredibly pleasurable. Looking at my mother's helpless, angry, and yet resigned expression, she was absolutely adorable.

I couldn't refuse my son's advances, because what would happen if my grandmother behind the door found out? Besides, I had already told my grandmother that my son had gone out. If she came in now and found my son in bed, how would I explain that? I had no choice but to indulge my son's lust.

I held my mother's lower back with my left hand, thrusting my hips repeatedly. I could feel her vaginal fluids increasing; she seemed to be getting more and more aroused. I whispered to her that I wanted to get to the bed, but she shook her head and said, "Hurry up, if we're found out, we're both dead."

I had no choice but to speed up, our pubic hair rubbing against each other with each thrust. I looked at my mother's wrinkled dress, her messy short hair sticking up, her hazy eyes, her half-open lips... As I thrust rhythmically, my mother's hands unconsciously wrapped around my neck, her head resting on my shoulder. Breathing heavily, she said, "Come quickly... Mom begs you..." It was the first time I'd heard my mother say such a thing. My mother was always a proud and sharp-tongued woman. Now, this beautiful woman was both ashamed and afraid of being discovered, and yet, she herself was almost at orgasm because of her son. For so many years, she had masturbated alone, and now the man who satisfied her was her own son.

When the head of my penis began to feel a strong urge to ejaculate, I pinched her buttocks with my left hand and said to my mother, "Should I ejaculate inside?" My mother said weakly, "No, you can't!" "Then how about ejaculating in Mom's mouth?" I said as I thrust.

"No, no!" my mother said.

"I don't care, I want to cum inside, ah..." The harder I thrust, the more pleasurable it felt, unlike anything I'd ever experienced with other women. The beautiful woman I was now forcefully penetrating against the door was none other than my own mother, whom I saw day and night.

If I didn't take this opportunity to fuck her hard, when would I ever have another chance? Just as I was about to ejaculate, I pulled out. My mother, who was standing on one leg, collapsed onto the floor from the pleasure. I put my glans into her mouth again. She looked up at me, her mouth full of my semen. I deliberately did a deep throat, causing her to choke and accidentally swallow some semen. She then spat it out on the floor. I quickly put on my pants. My mother told me to hide behind the wardrobe. I hurriedly opened the door, chatted with my aunt, and told her that everything was alright before quickly sending her out of the room.

This is a scenario I fantasize about, but unfortunately, such a SOD scenario is really hard to happen in real life. In reality, my mother and I slept back-to-back until dawn without exchanging a single word. When I woke up in the morning, my mother was already gone, leaving me alone to sleep until I naturally woke up.

After going downstairs, I called my mother, but she didn't answer. The downstairs was empty; had everyone gone out? Had she abandoned me and gone off to play with relatives? No way! I walked along muttering to myself, arriving at the toilet. When I tried to open the door to pee, I found it stuck. I tried pulling it a few times, but it wouldn't budge. Was something wrong? Even using the toilet was God's way of working against me. I pulled hard on the wooden doorknob, the gaps in the door creaking. When I finally managed to pry the door open, a woman was squatting on the toilet, staring at me with her big eyes.

"Close the door right now!" my mother said, glaring at me. Startled, I quickly slammed the door shut. I listened to the sounds inside from outside and complained, "Mom, why didn't you lock the door?" My mother retorted angrily, "Why wouldn't I lock it? The lock was broken a long time ago!" "Then at least make a sound,"

I complained.

My mother said, "Who knows who's outside the door? What if it's someone else? Besides, I knocked."

I said, "Sorry, sorry, I was so desperate I didn't hear you. Mom, hurry up."

My mother said, "My stomach hurts, stop nagging."

I had no choice but to pee in the nearby ditch. When I was halfway through, my mother came out and looked at me holding my penis as I peed, her eyes darting around.

After I zipped up my pants, I thought that if I had looked more closely, I might have seen my mother's vulva. My mother asked me where the others were. I said I didn't know. My mother looked around and found that my grandmother wasn't there either. Suddenly, her expression changed, and she looked at me and said, "You come here now."

My mother and I went to the side room on the third floor. She turned to me and said, "What do you want? I've told you so many times, we're mother and son, we can't have a sexual relationship. Have you been corrupted by those incestuous videos? How many times do I have to tell you before you understand?" I didn't dare to look my mother in the eye and blurted out, "But, Mom, can't you even help me masturbate?" My mother crossed her arms and said, "Fine, then let me ask you, I'll help you masturbate, and then what? Will that satisfy you? I don't believe it. Do you think I'd do what those mother-son incest stories do? Help you masturbate, then give you oral sex, and finally just lie in bed and let you have your way?" My mother's bold words actually made me feel a little excited.

"What exactly do you want from me? You're so old, you need to be more mature. I know you love me, but love doesn't have to be expressed this way. Do you think I'm like those articles, lonely and restless, seeking sexual release with my son? Don't be silly, those are all lies. Even if they were, I couldn't accept that kind of relationship, it's too strange. Besides, we're related by blood. Do you really want me to be your woman?" My mother paused, then continued, "Wake up! In real life, how could a mother do that kind of thing for her son?" I said, "Didn't you feel anything last night, Mom?" My mother pondered, "What did you feel?" "It was when I was thrusting into you,"

I continued.

"Well, Mom didn't have any other thoughts. I just saw you as someone I wanted to release my sexual desires."

I felt disappointed, but I couldn't say anything.

In that instant, I felt like something was missing from my heart. "Then Mom... please, just once is enough. I want to have sex with you."

I finally said it.

My mother paused, lost in deep thought, then slowly said, "No, I can't convince myself. Let's not bring this up again, okay?" I remained unusually calm, coldly stating my thoughts of the past few years, "Mom, do you know, I've watched you grow up since I was little, but have you fulfilled your responsibilities as a mother? In my memory, you've always been working. I only knew you were busy, but I didn't know what you were busy with. So, from a young age, I pretended to be strong, thinking I could become your pillar when I grew up. But I never imagined you'd always treated me like a child."

I walked towards my mother. "Honey," I said, looking at my mother, "Yes, I am a pervert. I had a mother complex in high school, in college, and even now. I thought I could let go of her this time I came back, but she's so beautiful, how can I forget her? Mom, just this once, give it to me!" *Slap!* A crisp sound rang out as she slapped my face, leaving a burning mark on my left cheek. My mother frowned and said, "Are you awake now? I don't lack men to support me, nor do I lack men to nourish me. This slap is to make you give up completely, understand?" I took a few steps back. I had never felt so humiliated in my life. Actually, I knew how naive I was.

I thought my relationship with my mother was easier than most people's, but I didn't realize it was all just wishful thinking. Was I really awake now? My eyes welled up with tears. I didn't yell or scream, nor did I cry my heart out. I just felt myself rise to another level, a kind of pain that was more unbearable than physical pain. It was a kind of suffering that you were powerless to change.

I wiped my eyes, my nose twitching, and said, "So many years have passed. Before I entered junior high school, my mother was so lively and energetic. I was always happy to have such a mother. Although life was a little tough back then, it was still joyful. Until high school, when you were busy preparing for your dental studies, was I being willful? When I was in college, you were busy with work, did I complain? Now that I'm back, I just crave that little bit of motherly love..." My mother seemed to feel a pang, but she didn't say a word as I left. The cool summer breeze from Hualien blew into the side room from the third-floor balcony, carrying away the sweltering sweat from my body, and also carrying away the longing my mother had felt for me after so many years of separation.

I packed my bags without saying goodbye to anyone. As I left, my mother remained on the third floor. Even as I walked out of the courtyard, wanting to look back at the third-floor balcony, as if hoping for her appearance, I never turned back as I walked out of the alley.

Foreword: "What is love in this world? That it makes people willing to die for it?" In the most brilliant period of my life, I recklessly had an affair with you, as time flowed by. Two lonely souls, in this forbidden love, explored every inch of each other's skin. Was it rational enjoyment of the thrill of sex, or the body's pursuit of primal sexual desire?

In my youth, I always kept my mother in sight, but my father? From as far back as I can remember, I had never seen him. Was he dead? Or abandon your wife and children? But to me, it makes no difference. She was once your wife, and now she is my incestuous mother and wife, both mother and wife. It's not just about the pleasure of sex, but about proving that I am more deserving of this woman, my mother, than you are.

Chapter One: The Dental Clinic I know that when I say this, most people will think I'm talking nonsense. But in this world, I believe there are many people like me who have had relationships with their mothers, only they are very private matters. There are many real mother-son videos circulating online, but I mostly just laugh it off because I understand that the lives of true incestuous mothers are never known to anyone.

You might see a mother and son picking out fresh fruits and vegetables in a store, but you wouldn't know that their conversation contained a lot of coded language that only lovers would understand. These sweet words are not easily known to outsiders. The language I most often hinted at to my mother was that I wanted to lick pudding, because I loved licking my mother's breasts, which were soft and bouncy like pudding.

Okay, enough with the preamble, let's get straight to the point. My mother is a dentist, and from childhood to adulthood, I loved lying on her lap with my mouth open, letting her hold the mirror and carefully check my teeth for cavities. As I grew older, I started to become interested in women's bodies. I have to say, many young men have had a mother complex deep down, and I had one too, only mine was more severe, and I dared to act on it.

Unlike many online stories, my relationship with my mother wasn't filled with ambiguity or coercion. My relationship with her was like a gentle stream, flowing slowly from a high place to a great river—warm and gentle, devoid of passion or beauty. Perhaps it was just that we were in the wrong era, and we happened to be together at the wrong time, enjoying those tiny ripples.

The phrase "things will fall into place naturally" best describes my relationship with my mother. Imagine a woman who has been widowed for nearly twenty years, whose only close male companion is her son. Even that might not be convincing enough. In the time I spent with my mother, my boundless love for her was the same as her love for me. Intimacy is not enough to describe us; it was "inseparable."

Many people might approach this from the perspective of liking mature women, leading to desires for incestuous relationships with their mothers, or watching pornographic scenes and wanting to have an affair with their mothers, cheating on their wives and having sex with their own sons—the thought is thrilling. Unfortunately, this doesn't apply to me.

I struggled with whether or not to be honest with my mother, because my accumulating feelings of affection had already made me indecisive. During my school years, when my studies were heavy, I mostly relied on masturbation to release my sexual desires. Initially, I also watched online porn—selfies, married women, students, Western films, incest—and these kinds of things filled a lot of the emptiness in my life. One day, lying cross-legged on my mother's lap, I opened my mouth for her to examine me closely. My eyes were fixed upwards, and her full, enormous breasts were right before me. The visual impact of those breasts was unforgettable. That day, my mother was wearing a tight black sweater, her breasts round and firm. Her private parts were above my head; I sniffed, but unfortunately, I couldn't smell her vaginal scent.

From that moment on, my gaze towards my mother gradually changed. I no longer saw her as a mother, but as a woman with a deadly mature allure. But I knew this was something I could only keep to myself; for both reason and emotion, I dared not overstep my bounds with her.

This May, I resigned from my job in Taoyuan. To be honest, I didn't really like Taoyuan. At 25, I was struggling to survive in this society, just for a meager salary. One day, as I was leaving work and heading home, I sat on my motorcycle seat and coughed up my first mouthful of blood. I just couldn't convince myself to keep going in Taoyuan.

Leaving the rainy and gloomy Taoyuan, I returned to Taipei, a place I rarely visit. My mother lives alone in a community in Songshan District, Taipei. I opened the front door and walked in, stepping into this home. I had many feelings in my heart, but I didn't want to say anything.

I knew that after I started working, my mother finally had her own dental clinic. Before, she had always been employed by others. Now that she had her own shop, I was happy that she wouldn't have to work so hard anymore. I set aside some time each week to visit my mother's dental clinic. The clinic entrance was made of a whole wall of frosted glass; you could only see inside by pushing the door open. I secretly pretended to be a customer working at the counter. The young woman looked cute and appealing. After handing over my health insurance card, I sat in the waiting area. The orange sofa and the overall minimalist style of the clinic, with white as the base and pale yellow lighting, were complemented by a long, narrow fish tank in the middle, filled with guppies. The sounds of electric drills, children crying, elderly people coughing, and women screaming were all mixed together, making me start to feel impatient.

In that instant, my gaze fell upon a woman with long, wavy brown hair. She wore a white uniform underneath, a white doctor's coat, a fitted grey skirt, black thigh-high stockings, and comfortable mesh sandals. As she walked, her breasts bounced up and down. When she bent down to sit on the low chair next to the examination table, the shape of her fleshy buttocks completely stretched the white coat, revealing the curves of her hips and waist. The men present couldn't help but stare at her peach-shaped buttocks. I muttered to myself, "Is this the mother I usually see at home?" When it was my turn, I casually walked into the treatment room. My mother looked at me, paused for a moment, then playfully pinched me. I grinned sheepishly in response. As I lay down in the treatment chair, I felt incredibly at ease, just like at home. I rested my head on my mother's lap, opened my mouth, and let her examine me.

My mother performed a teeth cleaning. During the process, I found myself lost in thought. A middle-aged woman, with the noble profession of dentist, impeccably groomed, exuding a strong sense of professionalism, and possessing the ethical standards to serve her clients—were there many men who came here just to catch a glimpse of my mother? Or perhaps they wanted to get closer to her? That night I had a dream. I dreamt that my mother was alone in the dentist's office. Everyone else had left, but my mother seemed to be waiting for someone, constantly looking towards the door. A young man walked in, and then the roller shutter door slowly closed. The man and woman in the clinic were about to engage in a lewd act that no one would discover.

My mother was waiting for me. I wanted to conquer my mother's noble image. Usually, she was attentive and caring towards her clients, but now the roles were reversed. I made my mother lie on the treatment chair. Aren't there many men who, while their mouths are agape, are thinking about how to pinch and knead those magnificent breasts in their eyes? I took off my mother's sandals and kissed her black stockings. My tongue moved from her left little toe to the right, licking each of her delicate feet. The sensation of the black stockings against my tongue was delightful. I gently pulled her feet up and licked upwards along the soles of her feet, making her itch and giggle. I continued licking relentlessly all the way down to my feet. My mother looked down at me with a disdainful gaze, a look of pride in her eyes. She turned on the medical light, and I looked up at her. Her face was backlit, and in the hazy, yellowish-orange light, her expression appeared even more proud and defiant, as if she wanted me to submit to her from the bottom of my heart. Was she a queen? This also made my mother realize, to some extent, that she was a very charming woman.

My mother said in a somewhat commanding tone, "Lick... upwards, don't stop."

I frowned, but could only continue licking upwards along the instep, past the ankle, my tongue fully feeling the curve of her calf. Covered by stockings, her calves appeared even firmer. I hooked my thumbs around the hem of her skirt and licked down to her knees, slowly moving up her thighs as I pulled the skirt up. My eyes were fixed on my mother's private parts. As the skirt was pulled up to her buttocks, she raised her buttocks, allowing me to pull the skirt all the way up to her waist, revealing her lower body covered by black stockings.

It turned out that my mother was wearing a black stocking that was a one-piece, reaching up to her waist. I knelt down in front of my mother's legs, holding her knees with both hands, and gently spread them apart. My mother resisted at first, tightly clamping her knees together. But when I looked at my mother's face, her expression was shy, like a little woman, which was extremely cute.

The aquarium's fluorescent lights cast a dim, white glow around a nearby treatment chair. A middle-aged woman lay on the chair, letting her son lick her sexy black-stockinged legs. Usually, when walking down the street, some men would stare with malicious intent, their faces looking like they wanted to lick her calves. But now, it was her son licking her inner thighs. When she no longer kept her thighs tightly closed and allowed her son to spread her legs apart, did it mean that deep down, she too had had such thoughts of being forced by someone else? After spreading my mother's legs apart, her panties were faintly visible beneath her black stockings, revealing some rhinestones and lace patterns. I buried my head between her thighs, my hands tracing the top of her thighs, my tongue licking the inside. My mother's breathing became rapid. My hands continued to move upwards along her thighs, my thumb and forefinger resting on the soft flesh of her waist, my fingers spread, moving forward and downward. I pinched and squeezed my mother's fleshy buttocks hard, letting the tender flesh sink into the gaps between my fingers. Then I pushed my fingers down and inserted them into my mother's buttocks, holding her fleshy buttocks with my palms facing upwards. The back of my hands was the leather seat of the medical chair, and my palms were my mother's tempting, plump buttocks. Even though they were covered by black stockings, they made my blood boil even more. How many men want to squeeze and knead their fleshy buttocks? When I finally buried my head in my mother's private parts, her thighs were already spread open. Her right leg was straddling an iron plate with tools such as hemostats, while her left leg was hanging on my right shoulder. After enjoying the feel of my mother's peach-shaped buttocks with both hands, I used my right hand to hold the back of my mother's left knee, which was originally hanging on my shoulder. Now I pushed my mother's left leg forward, exposing her private parts completely to my view. My left hand touched the inside of my mother's right thigh. Perhaps out of shame, my mother unconsciously tried to cover her vulva with her right leg, but my left hand pressed down on the inside of my mother's right leg, fixing her legs in place, making my mother's private parts completely visible.

My mother said shyly, "Don't lick, it's dirty." With a smile, I first licked her vulva from bottom to top, through her black stockings and lace panties. She let out a soft moan; perhaps she had never had her vulva licked by a man before. After three or four licks, I bit through her stockings with my teeth, revealing her deep purple panties, which excited me even more.

As a dentist, wearing such lewd underwear while treating patients—was I trying to satisfy their fantasies, or was I trying to seduce them? I rubbed my mother's private parts up and down with the tip of my nose. Even through her underwear, her clitoris could feel my rubbing. Not to mention, when I licked the edge of her underwear with my tongue, my mother's expression was one of unbearable itching. Her face showed that she hoped I would pull her underwear down to reveal her wet vulva, and she longed for my tongue to actually lick her clitoris.

Unfortunately, I was wicked. I got up and straddled my mother, using my left hand to push her hair back, revealing her ear. I whispered, "Mom, what do you want?" My mother didn't answer, but my left hand was already deep inside her genitals. My middle finger was inside her panties, digging and probing her already wet and overflowing vulva. My right hand caressed my mother's left earlobe, gently pinching it with my thumb and middle finger, then lightly scratching the ear canal with my index finger. I licked my mother's right ear, and her body trembled. She twisted her head, trying to break free, but I said in a commanding tone, "Don't run away!" My mother had no choice but to obediently let me lick her right ear.

At this moment, the mother's long-dormant sexual desire was finally ignited. It was called adultery, or incest. No one could have known things would turn out this way. All along, she had only had a casual relationship with her son, but at this moment, the man who was flirting with her was her own flesh and blood. And the place was actually in the most professional field of her career: a dental clinic. Patients came and went during the day, but at night it became the place for her and her son to flirt and make love. Would she be at work tomorrow, when the patient was lying on the treatment chair, unaware that the dentist's wife from the previous night had already overflowed with lustful fluids, soaking the chair?

A wave of shame washed over her. She hadn't had a chance to experience male finger stimulation in so long, and her vaginal walls longed for that thing, yet it was something she couldn't bring herself to say. As her son's right hand unbuttoned the buttons of her white shirt one by one, she thought about how, when she was performing electric drilling on patients, their eyes would always be drawn to her large breasts. Perhaps it was the allure of having patients steal glances at her impressive bust that brought her a certain pleasure.

When my son had finished playing with my ears, his face was now face to face with mine. As his fingers moved faster, my already aroused desire gradually turned into a raging fire. I didn't care about anything anymore; anyone would do, as long as I could be satisfied at this moment—my son, even a patient, it would all be fine. When I climaxed from the finger stimulation, my vaginal fluids soaked the chair, and my panties and black stockings were completely drenched. When my son… My son placed his left hand under the light of the examination table. The clear, viscous liquid between his fingers, visible through the light, was proof that he had just reached his G-spot and had an orgasm. It had been so many years since he had experienced such a long-awaited orgasm that his body was completely numb and limp, and his mind was blank. While he was still immersed in the pleasure, he slowly uttered a sentence in front of his son's face: "I want... your penis, to fuck me... fuck me."

When my mother unconsciously uttered those words after her orgasm, my already erect penis under my suit pants hardened even more, its shape bulging out. I held my mother's left hand with my right, asking her to caress my penis through my pants. I spread my legs, straddling my mother's waist, kneeling on either side of her fleshy buttocks. I faced my mother with my erect penis, and she glanced at it at first, then shyly looked to the side.

My mother said, "Good son, come home. Let Mom do it for you, okay?" I shook my head. My mother had no choice but to unzip my pants with her left hand and reach inside with her right, flipping open the opening of my underwear and grasping my burning penis. It was completely exposed to her eyes. I didn't have those exaggerated lengths; I was only the average size of an Asian man. But at this moment, my mother was holding my penis and stroking it back and forth.

I had waited for this moment for over twenty years. During my college entrance exams, the best way to relieve stress was through masturbation. I always imagined my mother helping me masturbate. Now, with my fantasy and dream coming true, my mother seemed even more womanly. Was it shyness? Or was it because I was her son? In the forbidden Taipei night, a mother and son engage in this lewd and absurd act at the dental clinic where they work every day. Is this a tacit understanding they've shared over the years, or a preordained mother-son bond, a secret that cannot be discovered by the world? At this moment, taboo, adultery, and incest are intertwined. The young man's penis and the middle-aged woman's vagina—perhaps because there is no husband in their families, the mother and son have long yearned for the feelings in each other's hearts, only now they are transforming those feelings into reality: sex.

I must say, my mother's technique for manipulating my penis wasn't very good; perhaps she hadn't been with a man in a long time. But my habit was to have a woman perform oral sex on me—it was a form of conquest, a way of making the woman submit. I thrust my penis forward, and my mother looked puzzled. After I pressed her head down, she understood. She slid her body down the examination chair, positioning her mouth against my penis.

I caressed my mother's face with my hands. I didn't like forced oral sex; I preferred a woman to perform it from the heart. My mother said softly, "This is my first time performing oral sex on a man; my technique won't be very good..." I nodded and said, "As long as you suck me, I'll be satisfied."

"You smooth talker, I'll bite you to death later..." my mother chuckled.

My mother held my penis in her right hand, sniffed it first, and said, "It smells so fishy."

Then she opened her lips and took the glans into her mouth. The warm, moist sensation of her lips enveloping my penis slowly made me swallow. I swallowed hard, feeling a sensation I had never experienced before, which almost made my mind go numb. When my mother took it all the way in, the glans seemed to be pressing against her throat. My mother then moved her head back and forth quickly. When she took it forward, her tongue held the base of my penis, which was wet with saliva. When she sucked it back, her lips formed an "O" shape, increasing the suction. This back-and-forth, fast and slow rhythm made the glans even more sensitive. Had my mother really never licked a man's penis before? Then my mother began to stroke my scrotum, her thumb and forefinger encircling the base, moving up and down in rhythm with her oral sex. It was even more pleasurable than simply blowing and licking. As I let out a low moan and my penis began to tremble, my mother's mouth left my penis. Her right hand gripped my penis completely, her thumb and forefinger encircling the foreskin and moving up and down rapidly. The warmth of her palm and her delicate hand made my penis even more stimulated.

I cried out, "Mom, hurry, I want to cum in your mouth, please."

My mother looked reluctant, but could only open her mouth and lick my glans quickly in circles with her tongue. Her right hand moved back and forth, while I grabbed my mother's huge breasts with both hands, squeezing them tightly through her shirt. I could feel the bra being deformed by my squeezing.

"I'm going to cum!" As I said this, I thrust my body forward, shoving my entire penis into my mother's mouth. My lower abdomen was in front of her, and my penis was inside her mouth. The back of her head was pressed against the back of the treatment chair, held in place by me with no way to escape. She could only let my glans press against the depths of her throat, my trembling penis thrusting and pounding, pouring my semen into her throat. She could only swallow my foul-smelling semen, her eyes half-open as she looked at me with a slightly angry expression.

I slowly pulled my penis out, and my mother immediately placed the sanitary cup on the cup holder. The machine then started automatically, filling the cup with water. My mother picked it up to rinse her mouth, slapped my penis as a sign of her protest, and then I pressed my mother down on the chair again. I sucked on my mother's lips, our tongues mingling, our saliva exchanging—only a mother and son can understand what true love is.

My mother and I opened the roller shutter door and checked the time on my phone. It was midnight. The streets of Taipei, usually bustling with traffic, were now deserted. My mother's face was flushed, and my erection hadn't completely subsided. We walked out of the clinic hand in hand, closing the shutter door behind us. No one would know what had just happened in that clinic. My mother swayed her fleshy hips beside me. I knew then that my mother was the woman I loved most in this life.

When I snapped out of my fantasy, my mother still chuckled and said, "Get up now, or I'll spank you."

I reluctantly got up, looking at my mother with that dentist's expression, unaware that her own son had just been fantasizing about putting his penis in her mouth. After getting my teeth cleaned and returning home, I turned on my computer and aimlessly browsed the internet, unconsciously starting to search for articles about incest

between mothers and sons. It had been a long time since I'd read them. I remembered my student days, that Oedipus complex, that sexual hunger for my mother—the intense emotional impact on me as a high school student. It wasn't until I had another woman in college that I gradually began to transfer those lustful thoughts from my mother to her.

Until I graduated, I always thought I could overcome these abnormal thoughts because I knew those incest stories were fake, just meant to satisfy various sexual fetishes. But just now, after seeing my mother at the clinic, that Oedipus complex within me quietly began to rekindle deep inside.

I swallowed hard as I read the erotic novel about mother and son masturbation. Although it was a typical masturbation story, the fantasy of the plot made me feel very involved. I imagined my mother being forced to have sex with me under such pretexts. However, there have been very few such stories in recent years, and I don't really like cuckolding mothers. In my heart, my mother can only belong to me.

I walked to the back balcony, my penis erect, and saw my mother's underwear hanging on the windowsill to dry. Various styles of underwear were in front of me, including a light blue lace pair. Looking at this pair of underwear reminded me of when I was in high school and I secretly took my mother's underwear to masturbate, only to be caught. Back then, my mother must have already noticed my strange behavior. My mother had always been a student who had worked hard all her life. In those days, it was extremely difficult to become a dentist in Taipei. My mother went to Taipei alone to study, busy with her studies during the day and working at a telephone interview center at night. My mother's family was very poor, and sometimes she even had to help send money back home. Back then, my mother was busy with her studies and had suffered a setback in love. Perhaps because she was too naive, she didn't understand the wickedness of people's hearts.

My mother conceived me just before graduating. At that time, she was incredibly busy, juggling pregnancy, studies, and financial pressures. Under these various pressures, the typical Taiwanese woman's resilience and unwavering spirit were fully revealed. She refused to give up, even though the father of her child thought he was just playing around. She insisted on raising the child alone, relying solely on herself, and would not ask the man who did not acknowledge her child for a single penny or any reward.

That's how I was born. I admire my mother for completing her studies and becoming a dentist. Perhaps during her internship, she was both raising me and honing her professional skills. But I know that my mother has always been a self-disciplined person, habitually demanding of herself, only allowing progress and not retreat.

From a young age, I kept my mother close, knowing that when I grew up, I would be a man she could rely on, not a boy nestled in her arms. The moment I awoke from that dream, I realized I should become a strong tree in her heart, a shelter from the storm.

I admit I have a mother complex; growing up in that environment, how could I not have fantasies? My mother has a slender figure; her years as a dentist have taught her to maintain her health, because good physical strength is essential to handle the many patients she sees every day.

Last night, after visiting my mother's newly opened clinic, I began to decide that I wanted to try to possess her, to make her my woman. I know this is a very difficult thing, after all, my mother is highly educated, and she may already see through my inner thoughts. Even so, I still want to try to tell my mother the words that have been hidden deep in my heart for so many years.

My story is very long, and I don't know where to begin. But after that dream about my mother, my sexual fantasies about her have become more and more frequent. Whether it's in the storage room where the equipment is kept, or the first time I half-heartedly kissed my mother, I don't know whether I should say it or keep it in the treasure box of my beautiful memories.

At home, I think about how to see my mother more often. Underwear? Old cliché. Coercion? Impossible, if I say it, my mother will kick me. Sexual innuendo? In the morning, I greeted my mother with my erect penis, hoping she would see my genitals and feel excited and shy? I think my mother, with her personality, would probably just slap my head. Flirting? That's too weird. Flirting with my mother as soon as I get home? It's so annoying. I can't think of a practical solution, so I gave up. I can only go back to my old ways of fantasizing about my mother and masturbating. I guess this is the fate of most people with Oedipus complexes. What difference does it make whether I say it or not? Hiding outside the bathroom door and eavesdropping on my mother's urination, or secretly taking pictures of my mother's naked body with my phone. Secretly taking pictures? Forget it. If she were a rural woman, she might not be so wary. But my mother is from Taipei. She goes online after get off work to look for information and chats with friends on Facebook. If I secretly take pictures with my phone and get caught, I'll probably be heading to the police station.

There's no reasonable excuse for my Oedipus complex, so I can only grumble and stay home looking for work. But every time I'm home and see my mother's figure, my penis gets erect several times. After not seeing her for so many years, she's become even more mature and charming, exuding a mature woman's allure. Her mature body completely seduces my senses. Every time my mother comes home and takes off her doctor's coat,

after showering, she wears a fitted white t-shirt with the word "check" distorted by her large breasts. She only wears super short, thin shorts, and her buttocks are like ripe peaches. Several times, my mother simply doesn't wear a bra, letting her nipples protrude, half-hidden, making my blood boil.

I asked myself if I was giving myself another chance, trying to see if my mother could truly understand my thoughts at this moment. Even though I had gone through such a dark period, now, my deeply locked heart was opening again because of my mother.

After that, I made it a habit to visit my mother at the clinic every night. The people there knew I was the doctor's son. For some reason, I felt uneasy when the male doctors got close to my mother. I looked forward to my mother coming home every day, but unfortunately, she was even busier lately because of the newly opened clinic.

In contrast, after returning from working out of town, I thought I could be closer to my mother at home. However, she became even busier, and I actually calmed down about the affair with her. As the clinic's operations became more successful, my mother noticed that she seemed to be less attentive to me.

And me? I didn't understand why my mother was neglecting me. Although I knew it was all to earn more money so we could enjoy a better life, I couldn't escape these struggles. For six months, I repeatedly hoped for more attention from my mother, but she thought I should be a mature person. Is this why a rift began to appear between us?

Finally, after suppressing myself for so long, I chose a way to express my deepest thoughts. Although I knew this might change many things, I had no choice but to do so now because I could no longer suppress my emotions—that forbidden love for my mother that was excessive.

Late at night, after my mother had bathed and changed, she slowly walked into the bedroom and turned on the lamp. To my surprise, she found a letter on the table. With the relaxed fatigue from her bath, she slowly unfolded the letter. The words written inside made me understand something unexpectedly. Through the contents of the letter, I realized that I was no longer alone, but belonged to another person.

My mother quietly entered my room, waking me instantly even when I was almost asleep. I peeked at her; she sat quietly on the edge of my bed, murmuring to herself as if she were telling me something. After a while, she gently closed the door and left. In that instant, I felt utterly lost.

The next morning, my daily life with my mother was as normal as if nothing had happened. Although I forced a smile, I was deeply saddened. In my letter, I poured out my love for my mother over the past twenty-odd years, but her current behavior was as if nothing had occurred.

After that, my mother and I gradually grew distant. She seemed to notice my change, but she didn't do anything. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on my part, I comforted myself with that thought, but my love for my mother was indelible.

Several months passed, and the awkwardness between my mother and me turned into mutual indifference. One night, my mother received an emergency call from security, saying there was a problem at the clinic. My mother and I rushed to the clinic, only to find out it was a false alarm. It turned out that the new security guard was inexperienced and had accidentally triggered the alarm.

After the security guard left, my mother said there was something missing in the clinic's storage room and she needed to go in. She told me to go back first and then head to the clinic. I stood at the door, and as I tried to maintain this cold relationship with my mother, a thought crossed my mind: could it be that my mother didn't know how to bring it up? Logically, as a mother, she could say it was incest; as a dentist, she could say it was an incestuous relationship. But what if her own flesh and blood fell in love with her? How should she face this dilemma? Was my mother also struggling every day with how to face her son, just like me?

As I hesitated, should I break the deadlock? I pushed open the door, the roller shutter closed, and slowly walked into the storage room. My mother was wearing a pink nightgown; the silky smoothness of it only fueled my fantasies.

She stood on a small stool, tidying up the equipment above the storage room. Her back was slightly bent, and her peach-shaped buttocks swayed in my eyes. She turned her head and said, "Aren't you going home to rest so late?" I whispered, "I can't bear to leave you alone."

My mother finally smiled. As she got off the low stool, I wrapped my arms around her waist. She descended quickly, and her silk nightgown was so slippery that my left hand slipped under her armpit and directly squeezed her breast. She immediately pushed my hand away, but I don't know where I got the courage, my right hand also came around from behind, so now I was pinching her large breasts with both hands. My mother

kept pushing her buttocks back, her hands tightly gripping my arms, trying to pry my hands off her chest. Little did she know that even as she struggled, her fleshy buttocks kept rubbing against my penis, making my lower body involuntarily engorged. Mom's breasts are really big, at least an F cup.

After I had been holding her like that for nearly thirty seconds, my mother stopped struggling and lay on my chest. I felt her chest heaving violently. She squeezed my hands, trying to pry them open, but I only tightened my grip. At that moment, she said something behind her back: "Aren't you going to regret it? Are you getting more and more itchy as you grow up?" When I heard this, I hesitated. If my mother agreed to give in to me, did that mean I was mentally prepared to have her as my woman? My mother sighed and said, "I've always understood your thoughts, and I know what you want to do, but in this world, are you sure you can really take on this responsibility? Or are you just looking for a woman to release your pent-up desires?" I fell silent and released my mother's chest.

"You need to know that you will get married and have children in the future. You have a long life ahead of you. I understand your guilt towards your mother, but that's not something you should bear. I've always been working hard for you. I understand your pain, but I want you to be sure that you really won't regret loving someone you can't love. Incest between mother and son is not accepted in this society. Have you considered my feelings? Can I really accept my son doing this to me?" My mother turned to look at me and said.

Like a guilty child, I lowered my head and remained silent. As my mother turned and walked out of the storage room, she said to me, "Tell me when you've made up your mind..." Then, a voice barely audible whispered, "I will leave this world before you eventually, and I'm not stupid. I've seen those inappropriate mother-son posts online since I was young. It's normal for grown men like you to like mature women, but you need to know that I won't be your object."

The moment those words rang in my ears, I didn't think twice before pulling my mother into my arms and kissing her. This was the boldest thing I've ever done for my mother in my life.

My mother's eyes were wide open, and our lips were locked in a passionate kiss. My right hand was tightly wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her close to my chest. The mature scent of her nightgown, like a deadly perfume, overwhelmed me, making me lose my senses and recklessly indulge in this moment of illicit lovemaking. My

penis was already pressed tightly against her lower abdomen, the friction against her through the silky nightgown feeling incredibly pleasurable. My right hand, which had been around her waist, moved downwards, fingers spread, feeling the alluring curves of her buttocks. How many patients fantasized about this beautiful woman in the clinic, probably wanting to pin this dentist beauty against the counter and vigorously fuck those round, plump ass? Unfortunately, the object of your fantasies right now is the very thing I'm currently pinching and kneading with my right hand, my middle finger sliding down the cleft of her buttocks. Even through her pajamas, the shape and feel of her buttocks are as perfect as you can imagine. Some people say that young girls have firm, perky buttocks, while mature women have soft, plump buttocks. My mother's buttocks are somewhere in between; they don't have the big, overweight buttocks of middle-aged women, but rather a beautiful, moderate shape. However, my mother's lower body proportions are also excellent.

She has a perfect nine-head figure, and even though she's only 165cm tall, her long, slender legs make her buttocks look even more alluring. For years, I've fantasized countless times about my mother's fleshy buttocks. Several times, while masturbating in the bathroom

, I've fantasized about the waves of flesh created by my thighs hitting her buttocks, the visual sensation, the force of the impact, and the warm, moist walls of her vagina. My God, even now, as I'm fingering my mother's vulva, I can't help but fantasize. My tongue only intertwined with hers for a mere thirty seconds before she pushed me away with both hands, as if she had just calmed down from excessive shock.

Then, I turned and left, running out of the clinic. In the empty clinic, only the sound of my mother's footsteps and her sobs could be heard. I was left alone, walking dejectedly towards the door. Taipei at midnight was so cold. The tangled wires on the streetlights were like my mother and me. Was the thread in my heart getting tighter and tighter? When I got home, my mother's bedroom door was indeed locked, but the urge to forcefully possess my mother's heart grew stronger and stronger. My mother had a habit of making coffee in the morning, hand-drip brewing, drinking specialty coffee, but what was she actually tasting? I worked in the tobacco and alcohol business in another city for two years, which almost ruined my health. I partied every night and slept with many women, but the only one I can't forget all these years is my mother. I don't know if she had other men to satisfy her while I was away. After all, it's impossible for me to believe that such a beautiful woman could go decades without sex.

After that forced kiss, my relationship with my mother became even worse than before. Was I too hasty? In short, I can only blame myself for being too impulsive. Although the first few days were very awkward, it just so happens that my grandmother is coming to Taipei at this time because she is sick and can only receive treatment at Taipei hospitals.

My mother is from Hualien and has half-indigenous blood. She has deep-set features, a curvaceous figure, and wheat-colored skin, which is completely different from the dark, chocolate-colored skin of most indigenous people. She has the traditions of the Amis people and grew up in the mountains as a wild child. She is brave and adventurous, which is a characteristic of her tribe. My mother grew up in such an environment. However, now most of the tribe lives on the plains, and my mother only played in the deep mountains or went fishing at the sea when she was a child.

Unfortunately, when my mother was preparing to receive her elementary school education, my grandfather and grandmother had a disagreement, so my mother was taken by my grandfather to a school in the south, while my grandmother continued to live in the tribe in Hualien. At that time, my grandfather had been abroad and had studied overseas, so he came to Hualien to teach students at a church. That's how he fell in love with an indigenous girl, which led to the birth of my mother, who was an only child.

Grandpa decided early on that my mother should go to school, but Grandma thought that girls shouldn't study. So, they parted ways in a fit of pique. The two elders didn't see Grandpa again until Grandpa passed away. Grandma saw Grandpa for the last time at his funeral. At that time, my mother didn't understand Grandpa's actions. But now, she can understand, more or less, why Grandpa wanted her to study hard.

I grew up listening to my mother tell stories. The picture stories from that time couldn't compare to the stories my mother told as a child. I think it's because my mother has a very outgoing and bold personality. She's more like a buddy to boys. When she was young, she often mingled with boys. Even now, although she's entered middle age, she still lacks the reserved demeanor of a typical girl when she talks to people. Instead, she has a more modern, forward-thinking woman's air about her.

I always imagined my mother as a woman in a novel, getting up early to brush her teeth, while her son, with his morning erection, would secretly rub his penis against her buttocks, intentionally or unintentionally, from left to right and then from right to left. And as a mother, for the sake of the family, she had no choice but to tolerate her son's sexual harassment.

However, my family consisted only of my mother and me from childhood. The traditional way women were afraid to speak out for fear of losing face didn't apply to my mother at all. So I thought I could use a semi-coercive approach to make my mother understand that I longed for her. But I didn't expect that although my mother was more open-minded than other women, she was not willing to suddenly accept a man, kiss her, or even caress her voluptuous body. Or even to be like a dog in bed, arching her back in a U-shape, sticking her buttocks up high, spreading her legs to expose her anus and vulva to a man. It was just that this man was her own son.

Perhaps my mother still retains the dignity of a woman, and is not the kind of slut who cheats on her with other men. Perhaps that's the case. My view of my mother is gradually changing. Should I try to see things from her perspective instead of just using her as a sex slave because I want to have my own pleasure?

After all, in the real world, are mothers as promiscuous as those in novels? Or would they become sluts who lick and blowjob their genitals after being raped by their sons even once? Or do they yearn for their mothers to be penetrated by different men, or, during a dental examination, are patients also checking their mothers' vaginas for wetness while examining their mouths? Is this what I want? I need to ask myself honestly, to respect others, I must start by respecting myself. I think I need to try to control my sexual desires. I've seen stories of incest between mothers and sons online. Some people suppress their desires through fantasy, while others suppress them through caresses, voyeurism, and so on. And what about me? Returning to the most primal impulses of men and women, my mother, though middle-aged, still dresses smartly for work. While she doesn't wear heavy makeup, it's still presentable and helps her maintain a good figure. I remember she seems to be controlling her diet and having meals planned by a nutritionist. Moreover, my mother loves sports; her innate athletic instincts as an indigenous person meant she was proficient in almost all kinds of sports during her school years. This makes my mother, even as a middle-aged woman, look almost like she's in her early thirties, even though she's already in her early forties.

Unlike those gossipy middle-aged women, my mother doesn't usually go to crowded markets. She prefers to wear fashionable clothes and drive to department stores to shop at imported supermarkets. Perhaps because of her high income, she also knows how to enjoy life.

This Saturday I decided to drive down to pick up my grandmother. On Friday night, I originally planned to drive there, but my mother said she wanted to take the MRT. The newly opened Songshan Line is right near our house. Two weeks have passed since the forced kiss incident. Although my mother is very concerned about this matter, my grandmother's illness has made her put it aside.

I knew my chance had come. This was the only way to rebuild our relationship; otherwise, even our mother-son relationship would be awkward. As I sat on the balcony waiting, my mother was dressed casually. A sheer chiffon blouse partially revealed her figure, and underneath, a fitted vest tightly accentuated her breasts. Beneath the barely visible long-sleeved chiffon top, her cleavage seemed incredibly alluring, inviting a lick. From the side, her breasts almost completely covered the buttons at the chest. Unfortunately, the pure white sports vest was opaque, so I couldn't see the color of her bra, but its shape was still clearly visible.

I was stunned. My mother dressed like this? She wore super tight Korean-style stretch pants that hugged her mother's fleshy buttocks, thighs, and calves. The low-waisted design revealed her slender waist. She carried an unknown brand-name bag in her left hand and wore light brown sunglasses. She had a chic short haircut. Yes, her mother had short hair, similar to Guo Xuefu's hairstyle. However, this hairstyle is very dependent on facial features. Unfortunately, her mother had an oval face and three-dimensional features. Otherwise, you would not want to have this hairstyle unless you are a beauty.

When I put on the pink Nike sneakers, I was almost stunned. It was so different from my mother's usual work look. In my last memory, my mother was a busy workaholic who had lived alone in another city since I started school. I only recently came back. If my mother had always dressed like this, wouldn't that mean she must have had a lot of suitors? Seeing me standing there dumbfounded, my mother suddenly laughed and said, "What's wrong? Don't you recognize your mother?" "No, it's just... I've really never seen Mom dressed like this before,"

I said.

My mother swayed her hips as she opened the door and came downstairs, turning back with a smile. "You don't know a lot! Who told you to always be out all these years, never caring about me at all?" I took the key and locked the door, saying, "It's a misunderstanding. Didn't I call and chat online almost every day before?" "You really dare to say that? Don't you want to come home and see me? Spend time with me?

" My mother said as she strolled through the alley. I walked shoulder to shoulder with my mother and said, "I'm back now, aren't I?" As my mother walked, her breasts jiggled with each step. Although the material of her sheer dress was unclear, the rhythm of her breasts made me want to pinch and squeeze them hard from behind. Although I had already touched them that night, it was only in broad daylight that I could see those captivatingly large breasts clearly.

"You came back and were already driven mad by lust, huh? First you wrote a letter confessing your love, then you pinched my breasts hard, and finally you forced your tongue into my mouth while your penis kept thrusting against me?" My mother said, her eyebrows raised in anger.

My God, I remember it all so clearly. So, for a strong woman like my mother, with her passionate and decisive personality, that night was a complete mistake. How could I have had the illusion that my mother was a timid woman? Just thinking about it makes me want to smash my head against a telephone pole and die.

I was so ashamed that I slowed my pace and silently followed behind my mother. She turned her back to me and said, "First you walked beside me, constantly ogling my breasts. Now you're slowing down, are you trying to fantasize about my butt?" I had no choice but to quicken my pace to walk ahead of her. I was sweating profusely. I thought to myself, "Is this the 21st century? Does anyone dare to sexually harass their own mother in this day and age? I'm such an idiot." I

walked to the subway station, reflecting on my actions. As we were going down the escalator, my mother suddenly whispered in my ear, "Do you know you're wrong? Do you understand what you did wrong?" I nodded and said, "I'm reflecting, I'm reflecting."

My mother looked at me and said, "Mom isn't hard to talk to, but you need to know, given my personality, would I let you hit me?" I remained silent.

"Oh, after I read about your letter that day, I had a hard time calming down because I didn't know how to face you. I originally wanted to persuade you to leave, but then you treated me like that in the storage room, which made me very angry. You have to understand, this kind of thing is difficult. It's not like those online porn movies where you can easily turn your mother into a prostitute,"

the mother said.

I hurriedly argued, "I've never wanted Mom to be a prostitute, I really... Mom, you know what I mean."

The two of us waited on the empty platform. Because this station was relatively small, there were few people. The first breeze in the subway tracks gently brushed against my face, and my bangs were blown into disarray. My mother's expression was complicated, but she didn't say anything. The wind blew the hem of my mother's snow-white dress, and the strong lustful thoughts I had for my mother subsided.

Stepping into the carriage, I sat down with my mother. The air conditioning in the subway made me even more awake. I looked at my mother and said, "Mom... do I really have absolutely no chance?" My mother blinked her long eyelashes, looking surprised, and said, "You're still thinking about this?" I looked into my mother's eyes and at the sunglasses she was holding, and said, word by word, "I... am..." Before I could finish speaking, the station announcement came on, interrupting me.

My mother took out her phone, and I took mine out and started scrolling. Because there were suddenly a lot of people getting on the bus, it was inconvenient to talk. My mother texted me: "Then let me ask you, do you like me, do you love me because of my appearance, or because of my status as your mother, or is it just your simple sexual fetish? Do you like mature women? Do you like to have sex with married women in secret? You've tried all of that, and now you want a more dangerous game, you want to have sex with your mother?" A series of questions overwhelmed me. It turned out that my mother's thoughts were much deeper than mine. I replied: "Mom, you don't have to be so blunt."

My mother replied: "You're an adult, why are you still shy? You dared to rub my breasts, and you're afraid of saying such things?" She added a sly smiley emoji.

I replied, "That's not how it works, Mom. Girls should at least be tactful when they speak. Men love sweet talk."

My mother replied, "I'm really sorry, but I'm not good with sweet talk and I don't know how to coax young men."

"Don't be like that, why are you being so stubborn?"

I replied with a laugh.

We arrived at Taipei Main Station. The pleasant sounds broke the silence. My mother said to me, "Let's go," and took my hand. We walked out of the crowd and, in a flash, secured a spot at the escalator entrance. The escalator was at least two stories high. My mother's fleshy buttocks swayed as we climbed the stairs. People's eyes, intentionally or unintentionally, stole glances at my mother's buttocks. Passengers coming down from above were all attracted to my mother's taut breasts. My mother seemed to be used to this kind of gaze. If I had moved my face forward just a little more, I could have stuffed my mouth and nose between her buttocks. My lower body started to swell again. The feeling of my right hand rubbing her buttocks that night came rushing back to my mind once more.

In this short time, I reflected on my initial feelings for my mother. Was it really as she said, that I just wanted the thrill of incest, the excitement of forbidden fruit? More or less, yes, but that wasn't the main reason. The main reason was that I wanted my mother to take off her strong woman mask and be the simple, carefree mother she was—kind to everyone, and not just a strict, harsh teacher, but a lively, thoughtful woman.

Such a woman may have never experienced true happiness in her life. I wanted to bring my mother happiness. Perhaps it was one-sided selfishness, or perhaps I misunderstood her. Perhaps she had many men caring for her, but you know, this is what Oedipus complex is—wanting to possess your mother. Perhaps I should let go of this mindset, let go of the place my mother holds in my heart? After accompanying my mother to the import market that evening, carrying two large bags of shopping spoils, we chatted idly for a while. Neither of us brought up that incident again. My mother's conversations usually revolved around friends, work, and family, but she rarely talked about herself, at most her childhood. She rarely brought up her student days, her early working years, or the days after I was born. Could it be that my mother had some unknown past? Chapter Two: My Mother's Junior's Summer Vacation During Her Senior Year of High School It was incredibly hot. While waiting for university to start, I stayed home playing computer games all day. It was around this time that my mother somehow learned to drink coffee. It turned out that a good friend of hers would come over during the holidays to teach my mother how to make black coffee. It was also around that time that I met Aunt Green.

When I first saw Aunt Green, I was struck by her slender figure and soft-spoken manner, quite unlike my mother's quick-wittedness. Aunt Green possessed a gentle charm and an indescribable elegance that contrasted sharply with my mother's. Aunt

Green dressed rather conservatively, while my mother was much more uninhibited at home, often wearing revealing tank tops and hot pants that exposed her long legs. In comparison, Aunt Green's short t-shirt and denim miniskirt seemed outdated. However, there must be a reason why a woman can attract others, and that reason is her graceful figure.

Several times I peeked through the crack in the door at my mother and Aunt Green, fantasizing that both women were serving me, each licking my penis, and that I should compare who was better. They each had their own strengths, making it hard to choose. Perhaps at that time, Aunt Green's understanding care truly captivated me. Several times, Aunt Green would ask me if I had eaten enough, and if I wanted her sister to take me out to eat. Because my mother was busy with work, sometimes when Aunt Green came, my mother would only stay for a short while before leaving in a hurry.

Back then, as a high school student, having a woman care for me like this every day did indeed make me fall in love. However, considering the age gap and the fact that Aunt Green was already a married woman, I remained much calmer. Compared to lustful thoughts about my mother, my sexual urges towards Aunt Green were not as strong as those towards my mother.

On the day of my graduation ceremony, it was raining heavily. Aunt Green came to pick me up with an umbrella. It was sunny, but a torrential downpour started. The weather in the south is so unpredictable. I was surprised that Aunt Green would come. I asked her in surprise, "Aunt Green? What's wrong?" Aunt Green shook her head and said, "My senior's son is graduating. Of course, I had to come and congratulate him." I was a little disappointed at that moment, but when I saw Aunt Green, I couldn't bear to let her see my sad side.

Aunt Green put her arm around my shoulder, my right arm pressed tightly against her left breast. Aunt Green didn't react much, but I was lost in thought, blushing furiously. It wasn't until Aunt Green noticed her breast was against me and our eyes met, that we quickly looked away, like children caught doing something wrong.

I must say, Aunt Green had a pleasant fragrance, I couldn't tell if it was shampoo or her natural body scent, but it had a mature, sophisticated air about her. I stole glances at her chest; through the gaps in her white shirt buttons, her white bra was clearly visible. Even though it was just a fleeting glimpse, for a high school student like me, it was incredibly arousing.

High school students are naturally curious about women's bodies. At that time, after three years of academic pressure, I hadn't had a girlfriend. Partly it was due to my personality; I'm naturally rather quiet and reserved. However, I'm very perceptive of subtle changes in relationships.

Before graduation, I met Aunt Green for the first time at home. Perhaps a chemical reaction had already occurred then. By the time the graduation ceremony arrived, and it was late June, during our time together, I probably didn't even realize it myself, but I had fallen for her. It's ridiculous, isn't it? A high school student liking an older woman.

The rain was heavy, and rainwater streamed down the umbrella's surface to the edge. With two people sharing one umbrella, my left shoulder and Aunt Green's right shoulder were both exposed. Aunt Green and I walked briskly side by side towards the parking lot. Trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, I asked, "Aunt Green, why didn't Mom come?" Aunt Green gripped the umbrella handle tightly and said, "I was going to drive down, but the professor had something come up, so she asked me to come instead."

Was that true? Did Mom really ask? Or was it just Aunt Green's understanding lie? Thinking of this, my face fell again. Aunt Green noticed the change in my expression and smiled, saying, "Senior didn't mean to not come; she really had something to do."

Although I was angry, I was too embarrassed to lose my temper with Aunt Green.

When we got to the car, I held up the umbrella and let Aunt Green get the keys. While Aunt Green was looking down and rummaging through her bag for the keys, I observed her. She was probably a little taller than my mother. Aunt Green's right shoulder was completely soaked. The rain-soaked white shirt was flowing down her shoulder, making the long sleeve on her right arm and the shirt above her right breast almost transparent, making her bra even more obvious. Especially the wet shirt, because it became heavier when wet, almost clung to her right breast, making my mouth dry.

After Aunt Green received the key, she noticed my gaze lingering on her chest. She glanced at it a little herself and let out a soft "Ah!" as her face began to blush. Shy women are truly adorable.

In contrast, in my three years of high school, my engineering class was filled with boys who did nothing but study and play. At most, they would whistle at girls from other departments. The class had over forty students, all of whom were boys. For me, the image that remained most vivid in my mind was that of my mother. It wasn't until I met Aunt Green that I realized that shy women truly exist, and don't just appear in novels.

I hurriedly said, "Quick...open the door!" Aunt Green then opened the car door. Because I didn't dare to look at Aunt Green's chest, I chose to sit in the back. While driving, Aunt Green glanced at me several times through the rearview mirror, but didn't say anything. I felt very embarrassed because Aunt Green noticed that I was staring at her chest.

"That auntie is an old woman, her figure isn't very good, so you don't need to care too much, hehe,"

Aunt Green said while driving.

"Huh? Really? I don't think Aunt Green is old at all. She looks very young,"

I said, glancing at Aunt Green through the rearview mirror.

Aunt Green covered her mouth and chuckled, "I really envy you, senior, having such a sweet-talking child."

I didn't respond to that, because I didn't understand why my mother was so busy, so I didn't want to talk. I just casually replied, "Hmm, maybe."

Aunt Green probably sensed something was off in my words, so we fell silent again. "You have to understand your mother, she's doing all this for you,"

Aunt Green said.

I said, slightly annoyed, "For my own good? I really wish she wasn't like this."

"One day, when you grow up, you'll understand why your mother is so busy,"

Aunt Green said gently.

I didn't say anything, because at that time I was too lazy to understand those adult matters, but Aunt Green's caring actions made me feel a little more favorably towards her. "Aunt Green, am I bothering you?" I said with a smile.

"Hehe, no way, I consider you my godson,"

Aunt Green said.

We drove north along the highway, and when we arrived at the Qingshui rest stop in Taichung, Aunt Green and I got out to buy something to eat. Aunt Green's shirt was almost dry. Perhaps because it was graduation season, the rest stop was particularly crowded today. As I squeezed through the crowd with Aunt Green, I noticed that she had been pushed to the back. Seeing her frightened expression, a feeling of worry that she might be hurt welled up inside me. In a flash, I took a step, grabbed Aunt Green's slender fingers, and pulled her to my side, heading towards the snack bar next door.

Aunt Green's fingers were beautiful, especially their delicate texture. When I came to my senses, Aunt Green and I looked at each other again. This time, I quickly let go of Aunt Green's hand. Aunt Green pursed her lips and said, "There were so many people just now!" I grinned foolishly and said, "Yes, that's why I took the liberty of holding your hand. Sorry."

Aunt Green chuckled, "How can you be so reserved? I'm already reserved enough, but you're even worse than me."

I smiled shyly, feeling a warm glow in my heart.

But things never go as planned. Just as we got on the interchange and were about to head north, Aunt Green's car broke down. Since it was already 2 a.m., we had to call a tow truck to pull the car off the highway and down to a repair shop. The shop owner smiled wryly and said, "I think you and your son should stay at a nearby motel for the night. I'll fix the parts when I open in the morning, since it's hard to get parts at this hour."

Aunt Green frowned and said, "Really... do we have to wait until tomorrow?" "Yes, get in the car first, I'll take you there. You should have some money on you, right?" The owner half-forced us to get in the car. I looked at Aunt Green with both hands, and she had no choice but to nod in agreement.

It was my first time accompanying a girl to a motel, and Aunt Green seemed quite shy, while I felt a bit excited. As we entered the room, Aunt Green's eyes lit up, and she said, "Then... I'll take a shower first."

But when Aunt Green tried to take off her clothes, she discovered that the room was completely transparent with glass partitions, and even though I was outside, I could see her naked body clearly.

I shyly said, "Then I'll wait outside. Let me know when you're done." Aunt Green smiled slightly at me, her eyes filled with that tender, gentle look, which made my heart race again. Standing on the balcony outside the door, the night in the suburbs of Taichung was so dark, with the lights of distant buildings twinkling like stars. Seeing the red glow of the lights, my mother's fiery aura appeared in my mind once more, like a brand, an indelible scar.

As my thoughts were still lingering on my mother's face, Aunt Green came out wearing a shirt and joined me on the balcony, gazing at the night view. When I noticed that Aunt Green was only wearing a shirt, my gaze fell to her lower body and revealed that she wasn't wearing a skirt, exposing her underwear and thighs. Compared to my mother's more fleshy thighs, Aunt Green's thighs were incredibly slender, almost like those of a South Korean entertainer.

Aunt Green laughed and said that she had just gotten her pencil skirt wet, so she simply didn't wear it.

"Aren't you afraid I'll do something to you?" I said, slightly teasingly.

"Oh, what's there for an old woman like me to be afraid of?" Aunt Green said.

"But Aunt Green, you're still very charming,"

I said, swallowing hard.

Aunt Green raised an eyebrow and said, "Thank you for the compliment."

Then, without realizing it, she tugged at the hem of her shirt, as if trying to cover something. Unfortunately, the white shirt was the kind that fit her figure well, so the hem didn't go very far.

Aunt Green lowered her head and said, "It's windy outside, come inside." Looking at Aunt Green's back as she turned away from me, I subconsciously hooked my fingers around the hem of my underwear and pulled it open to reveal her fleshy buttocks. Aunt Green let out a soft cry, turned her head, and gave me a shy look. At that moment, I understood one thing: tonight, I was going to lose my virginity.

Driven by lust, I had long forgotten my mother. Decades of suppressed sexual desire were going to be released on Aunt Green tonight. What did it matter if she was a little boy? Given Aunt Green's shy nature, if I asked her for it tonight, she would probably give it to me, right? Aunt Green should also know what will happen tonight, right? As I showered, my naked body, the hot water hitting my chest, made me feel very hot, and my lower body was just as hard. I threw on a towel and came out. Aunt Green was sitting on the sofa, scrolling through her phone. Seeing my bare upper body and the way my erection pushed the towel high, Aunt Green looked even more ashamed. She

quickly turned off the light and said tremblingly, "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep."

Then she got into bed and wrapped herself in the sheet.

I climbed on top of Aunt Green and whispered in her ear, "Tonight I want you to take my virginity."

Aunt Green said, "No, you're her son, how can I..." "Don't mention your mother anymore, please, just tonight it's just the two of us, a secret between us."

I could sense that Aunt Green was softening. "Try to help me... Aunt Green,"

I said, almost forcefully.

I threw back the blanket, turned on a yellow light, and knelt under Aunt Green's armpits. The bath towel had already been thrown to the ground. My penis was pressed against Aunt Green's face. I brought my scrotum close to her. Aunt Green frowned as she looked at me. Only when I pressed my scrotum against her lips did I feel my scrotum being sucked by warm, moist lips. Aunt Green closed her eyes, probably feeling extremely humiliated, but helpless.

A woman who was practically divorced was now licking the scrotum of an acquaintance's son. She felt ashamed and humiliated, knowing that saying no now wouldn't change anything. Perhaps, when she walked out in her underwear, she already understood that deep down, she seemed to be hoping that this boy would do something to her? Aunt Green licked up my scrotum to the glans. I pressed my penis down, grasped the base, and rubbed the glans against her lips. "Open your mouth,"

I said, looking at her with a sneer.

Aunt Green opened her eyes, looked to the side, and slowly took my glans into her mouth. I adjusted the angle, lowered my waist, and, as if raping her, shoved my entire penis into her mouth. When it reached deep into her throat, Aunt Green would always slap my thigh in protest, but that only fueled my animalistic desires.

After a few rounds, my entire penis was covered in Aunt Green's saliva. Aunt Green was panting heavily, her face turned to the side, refusing to look at me. I pulled down Aunt Green's panties, holding her ankles with both hands, and pulled the panties down to her thighs. Aunt Green's legs were spread wide like a frog's M, her entire vulva right in front of me.

Unfortunately, Aunt Green then closed her legs tightly together, and I couldn't pry them open, so I had to give up. I turned Aunt Green over, making her lie face down on the bed. I explored down her anus with my right middle finger, reaching a wet body. As my middle finger moved further down, I felt a tearing sensation; I knew I had penetrated Aunt Green's cunt.

I started fingering Aunt Green. Her sticky flesh walls and the sensation of my middle finger scraping against her vagina made her breathing heavier, but she didn't moan. Was she enduring it? But when I inserted my second ring finger, Aunt Green's buttocks tensed up, and she cried out, "Slow down..." Relying on the pornographic videos I had seen before, I imitated the male actors and frantically moved my fingers in and out. A large amount of vaginal fluid wet her labia as my fingers went in and out. I bent my fingers forward, as if exploring something, until I reached a certain spot. Aunt Green's reaction became very strong. At that moment, I knew that this was a woman's G-spot.

This is what it feels like to have sex with a woman for the first time. Compared to just watching videos and fantasizing about having sex with my mother, this is real sex with a mature woman. My penis was almost bursting at the seams. As my arms ached from rapidly withdrawing my fingers, I finally stopped. Aunt Green let out a long, soft moan. Looking at the wet patch on the sheets, I realized that women are so weak and powerless after an orgasm.

Taking advantage of Aunt Green's lingering weakness from her orgasm, he flipped her over onto her back, spread her legs apart, and lay on top of her. He wrapped his arms around her armpits, gripped her shoulders tightly, and kissed her lips. So this is what it feels like to kiss a woman.

While embracing and French kissing Aunt Green, I rubbed my penis against her vulva, the wet and sticky vaginal fluid covering my penis. Each rub would touch her clitoris. When the head of my penis pressed against the entrance of her vagina, I thrust forward and hugged Aunt Green tightly. Aunt Green seemed to want to say something but couldn't open her mouth because I sealed her mouth with my tongue. I didn't ask Aunt Green if she wanted it, but instead started thrusting directly, because I knew that even if Aunt Green refused, I wouldn't let this fragrant and beautiful woman go tonight.

The throbbing sensation in my lower body stimulated my penis. I greedily sucked on Aunt Green's collarbone. Her white shirt was already wrinkled from making love. Aunt Green's moans rose and fell. I felt like a male dog in heat, encountering a lonely married woman who had been lonely for many years, doing something unspeakable in the dead of night in Taichung.

After I ejaculated inside her, Aunt Green dragged her limp body to the bathroom shower. I helped her to the bathroom, and we both showered naked. I pulled Aunt Green into the jacuzzi, turned on the electric switch, and let her lean against me. I wrapped my arms around her, enjoying the undulating water in the jacuzzi.

"Aunt Green, can I... still do it?" I said.

Aunt Green, panting, said, "You really are... Don't let your mother know about this?" "No, I mean, did I make you feel good?" I said shamefully.

Aunt Green turned her head and said, "Shut up, or I won't give in anymore."

I hugged Aunt Green even tighter.

But little did I know that after going to university, my initial ambiguous feelings for Aunt Green began to transform into a different feeling because of my mother, like a burden on my mother's shoulders. This made me feel very uncomfortable about my trashy behavior for many years to come.

There was a time when I really disliked my mother, back when I first started university. Perhaps it was the disappointment I felt from her coldness during my three years of high school; I craved her affection, yet I also resented her indifference. It wasn't until after I met that beautiful woman in university that I slowly began to try to shift my mother's attention to her. Unfortunately, in the end, my lustful impulses returned to my mother.

Actually, my interest in mature women stemmed from Aunt Green, my mother's longtime best friend. As far back as I can remember, Aunt Green was always by my mother's side. She liked to visit when we were little, and whenever she came to my house, it was just the two of them—my mother and her child—having coffee. When I was studying in Taoyuan, Aunt Green had just opened a new coffee shop there.

To be honest, as a college student at the time, I was very eager to try sex. Moreover, because of my mother, I had a preference for mature women, so I naturally fantasized about all the women around me, including my mother. However, I rarely saw my mother, so I didn't have that kind of visual impact. In contrast, Aunt Green was close to my rented apartment and was also a coffee shop where I could study. Aunt Green was very good to me when I was a child. These factors made me less afraid of my new life as a freshman in college, and I also felt more love for my workaholic mother who couldn't take care of me. I more or less regarded Aunt Green as my mother.

Of course, this also included dealing with my sexual desires. I loved having Aunt Green help me with that too. It was a secret between the two of us, something I didn't even dare let my mother know. At that time, it was more like we were together because we were both lonely. Aunt Green and her husband rarely saw each other. Her husband spent many years buying green coffee beans at coffee plantations abroad. After a while, he even bought the women at those plantations, leaving his wife, Aunt Green, alone in Taiwan. Because Aunt Green couldn't get pregnant, she didn't have any children. Perhaps that's why she was neglected.

Actually, Aunt Green's appearance was alright, and she didn't have my mother's figure, but she was slender with long, delicate fingers, a sweet and coquettish voice, and a gentle and refined young woman. Every gesture made the customers look forward to drinking the coffee she brewed herself. No one knew that behind the bar, this respectable woman was actually having her private parts below her buttocks being teased by my penis. She calmly and professionally performed in front of the customers, while I, who was helping her, had my burning penis pressed against my pure white thighs, and the hot feeling was stimulating my nerves even more.

Yes, Aunt Green is very submissive, the kind of woman who enjoys being enslaved. Aunt Green once said that even if she doesn't want to be violated, harassed, or coerced on the surface, she actually enjoys the process. I only found out about Aunt Green's true nature after we had been in a loving relationship for almost a year.

Aunt Green said that whenever I held her hand and asked her to caress my penis, she would always beg. But when I forcefully asked her to continue, she could only rub my penis through my pants like a little woman. Just imagining that tone and command made Aunt Green orgasm.

So when I asked Aunt Green to masturbate me, she said no, but I deliberately took off my pants in front of her because I knew she wouldn't refuse. Later, when the cafe was closing, a young woman knelt under the counter, stroking my penis with her fingers. Even when I went further and asked Aunt Green to give me oral sex, she readily agreed. Later, because I wanted to penetrate her, I almost made her take off her underwear, lie on the counter, and let me thrust into her vagina forcefully.

Unfortunately, the opportunity to play with Aunt Green at the counter never came.

Aunt Green completely satiated my body. After class, we'd have sex at her rented apartment. The mature woman's lustful aura, her loneliness and emptiness, her desire for a young man's penis—every time we made love felt like she was draining me dry. This usually low-key, ordinary woman seemed liberated in bed. There weren't many moans or groans, only plaintive, pleading, and sorrowful cries, which fueled my animalistic urge to exploit her. Later, I realized that this was all just a performance Aunt Green put on to achieve a rougher sex experience.

Why am I talking about Aunt Green? I don't know. Maybe at that time I was having sex with her like a mother, but there's still a difference. During that time with Aunt Green, did I also see my mother as that kind of woman? Or perhaps the image of a mother I longed for?

I once did a cosplay in a coffee shop, and asked Green Aunt to put on a bunny girl costume, with her black hair tied into a high ponytail, bunny ears on her head, and a black leather armor on her upper body, exposing her white shoulders and breasts. Unfortunately, they were not as big as my mother, only a B-cup. If it were my mother, her entire accessory breast would have squeezed out of the bra on the vest.

There was a red bow tied around her neck, and the V-shaped high slit exposed her thighs. Her slender lower body, wearing fishnet stockings and a pair of black high heels, looked just like a woman in a hotel. I turned around and looked at her from head to tail. The rabbit tail above her buttocks made Aunt Green's ass look even more lustful.

Although Auntie Green's style is very appealing to the people, unfortunately, I still feel a little disappointed at the moment. I imagine what my mother would look like if she put on this outfit. My mother's voluptuous body, the flesh of her thighs would surely squeeze out of the mesh of her fishnet stockings, her buttocks would be even fuller, not to mention her breasts, which must be enormous.

I sat on a single sofa seat by the bar, and Aunt Green straddled me like a little bitch, looking at me with tender affection. Shyly, she held my glans, flipped open her vest to reveal her tender, luscious vulva, and with a soft "plop," my entire penis slid into her.

She began to twist her hips back and forth, and I could feel the pleasure of my penis going in and out of her vagina. Aunt Green's attire probably aroused her, as her entire penis was wet with her juices, and the squeezing of her vaginal walls brought the pleasure to my glans to a climax.

I remained completely still, like a monarch commanding his slaves. Aunt Green spread her fingers and intertwined them with mine. I looked at the glass display case opposite the sofa, which held all sorts of drinks. The glass reflected Aunt Green's white tail, her black vest tightly hugging her fleshy buttocks, with a bit of tender flesh squeezed at the edges. Watching Aunt Green's pert, voluptuous buttocks sway back and forth, left and right, rotating clockwise and counterclockwise, her serpentine waist twisting and turning, her juices flowing over my pubic hair, I felt so good that I wrapped my arms around Aunt Green's waist and took her pink nipple into my mouth.

Aunt Green was both passionate and ruthless. During our ambiguous time in college, she experienced the taste of love, felt disappointed in her husband, and was ashamed of her inability to have children. At this time, a young boy walked into her life, like the turning of the gears of fate. Aunt Green and I were just at that point in time and connected.

I felt resentment towards my mother's indifference, and Aunt Green felt disappointed by her husband's indifference. The two of us intersected at a crossroads. After our paths crossed, perhaps neither of us knew our initial thoughts, but through physical intimacy, we gradually came together. My initial infatuation with Aunt Green's mature body transformed into using her as a source of sexual gratification.

The nipple on my tongue gradually hardened, and Aunt Green's breathing became heavier and heavier. I closed my eyes and teased Aunt Green with the tip of my tongue. The lines on her areola, the slightly raised dots, allowed my tongue to circle along the edge of her nipple. Aunt Green let out a long moan, a primal urge from a body that had been lonely for many years. A woman's moan represents an intertwining of excitement and pleasure from the bottom of her heart.

I held Aunt Green's waist with both hands, gently lifting her up before pressing down hard, pulling my penis completely out of her vagina. Then, supporting her slender waist with both hands, I thrust forcefully downwards, reaching deep inside her with each stroke. In the closed coffee shop, the moans of the slut echoed incessantly, as if telling a story.

I placed Aunt Green on the bar counter, spreading her legs in an M-shape, and crossed her arms. I held her hands tightly, the crossed arms squeezing and deforming her breasts. Because the bar counter was small, Aunt Green's head was suspended in mid-air, her face turned forward, looking at me with a sorrowful and resentful expression.

I quickened my thrusting, pulling Aunt Green's arms back tightly with both hands. The force of the deep thrusts caused my thighs to slap against hers, producing a satisfying slapping sound. Her high heels swayed with each thrust. As my speed increased, I suddenly stopped. After a moment, my penis trembled, and I ejaculated deep into her uterus. Aunt Green lay sprawled

on the counter like a puppet with its strings cut, her hair soaked with sweat. I lifted her down from the counter, kissing her forehead like a lover's tender care. Having ejaculated without pregnancy, at that moment, was I drawn to Aunt Green's melancholic nature, or to her forbidden young woman's body? My college life was filled with debauchery. As a naive high school student, I could never go back to the night I gave my virginity to Aunt Green. Back then, I had an ambiguous relationship with Aunt Green, made love to her, and when she came to our house, I would tease her behind my mother's back. I would blow and lick her vagina in the bathroom, and make her wear my mother's doctor's coat and stick out her buttocks for me to penetrate. Even when my mother was home, when Aunt Green was talking to my mother, I would secretly rub her beautiful buttocks when my mother turned away and wasn't paying attention. Aunt Green would pretend to be calm and act as if nothing had happened.

That period was my happiest memory. Because of Aunt Green, I no longer suppressed my thoughts of my mother; because of Aunt Green, I had a woman to release my sexual desires; because of Aunt Green, that shy and beautiful woman made me feel more present. But it was just an illusion.

After I went to university, my mother finally got her dental license. I thought I had let go of my mother, but I forgot that I had already permanently reserved a place for her in my heart. My mother became even busier, which completely disrupted my original plan to start a new life in university.

When I came to Taoyuan to study, the loneliness in my heart surged up again. Wasn't this just like the three years of high school? Nothing has changed, and nothing will change. Perhaps I am the truly cowardly little kid. I was like that in high school, and I was like that in college. It was around this time that I ended my affair with Aunt Green. But after meeting Aunt Green again in Taoyuan, I started to vent my frustrations on her as if she were my mother.

Could it be that what torments me in this world is not my mother, nor Aunt Green, but my own inescapable Oedipus complex? Unfortunately, I still haven't gotten over it back then, and perhaps I still haven't changed. I am still that same Oedipus boy.

Chapter Three: Summer on the East Coast of Hualien. The sweltering July heat arrived. My mother and I boarded the Taroko Express to Hualien. The train clattered along, passengers chatted amongst themselves, and an unknown movie soundtrack played in my headphones. Beside me, my beautiful mother was engrossed in a mobile game, like a child. Even with a mobile game, she had to win—perhaps it was her innate competitive spirit.

And me? I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts drift back to my student days. As far back as I can remember, my mother was always incredibly busy—studying, working, raising children. That's my impression of her as a young mother. I'm actually quite introverted, perhaps because I grew up under my mother's thumb. So, when it comes to social interactions, I always just go through the motions, putting on a show.

Everyone thought I was optimistic, but it was all an act. Some might wonder why I got involved with Aunt Green. At that time, I both admired and resented my mother, unable to understand why she was always working and didn't spend much time with me.

Even though I know all of this is for our better lives, I still feel resentful when I think about it carefully. Several times I've wondered if my mother's life would have been better if she hadn't given birth to me, instead of being so exhausted and mediocre as she is now.

When I first went to Aunt Lv's shop, I was actually very happy because I had attended a different school for three years of high school, and only now was I finally able to see my long-lost friend. Aunt Lv's real name is Lv Yi, but I jokingly call her Aunt Lv. She is about two years younger than my mother and was her junior at Yangming Medical School, under the same professor. We went up the same path. She was attracted to my mother's fearless personality, so we have been good friends ever since.

The coffee shop is located in a small alley in the bustling Taoyuan area, a rather secluded location. It specializes in specialty coffee, with fewer traditional Italian espresso options. The clientele is mostly regulars, operating on a membership system. It's not cheap to get in, given that Aunt Green is the only one running it, with a "make friends, money is secondary" attitude.

I was able to enter freely like a VIP because of Aunt Green. The coffee shop has a hipster vibe, with old photos, antiques, and old music, creating a relaxing environment. But thinking about it later, I wonder if this reflects Aunt Green's inner loneliness? After my penis got used to Aunt Green's oral sex, I would ask her to suck and lick me almost every time we met. Sometimes, when I didn't want to go back to my rented apartment, I would stay in the room on the second floor of the shop and ask Aunt Green to wear the coffee shop's uniform, which was basically just a black short, tight skirt, a white shirt, a dark red square scarf tied on her head, and canvas shoes. Most importantly, there was that black and gray apron with a bow on her waist and shoulders that flowed as she walked.

I grabbed Aunt Green's head and kept swallowing and spitting out my penis, making sure that the head of my penis reached her throat every time. Finally, I had to give her the first and most concentrated ejaculation orally. Seeing Aunt Green's eyes filled with pain, and how she choked when my penis was pulled out, that expression only fueled my animalistic desires.

"If I can't have my mother, then I'll have you. Anyway, my mother doesn't have time for me anymore, so you can obediently take her place. Whether it's my troubles or my sexual desires, you can solve them all for me."

That's what I thought at the time. To be honest, it's really ridiculous. I had sex with Aunt Green for these reasons.

When I pulled off the headscarf from Aunt Green's head, her long, shiny black hair spun out like a spiral. In the moonlight shining through the window, Aunt Green was simply breathtakingly beautiful in my eyes. Wearing black-rimmed glasses, her expression was always forced. Was this kind of woman just unlucky, or had she just not met the right person? Aunt Green lay on the bed like a puppy. I hooked the hem of her narrow skirt with my left hand and pulled it up to reveal her round buttocks. I pinched and rubbed them with both hands, then slapped them hard. My right hand held the head of my penis and rubbed it up and down against her vulva. I heard Aunt Green breathing heavily. I pulled Aunt Green's hair with my left hand and gently pulled it back, wanting her to look at me with tender eyes. Unfortunately, at that time I had a bit of a compulsive tendency.

When I pulled back hard with my left hand, causing Aunt Green's head to tilt upwards, she arched her fleshy buttocks like a U-shape, supporting her upper body with both hands. Her fair breasts swayed slightly. I held her humerus with my right hand and forcefully inserted my penis into her vagina. I used my right hand to squeeze Aunt Green's fleshy buttocks against my penis, allowing the glans to penetrate deeper. At this moment, Aunt Green let out a muffled groan.

"Is it all the way in?" Aunt Green's expression was slightly pained. After all, without the lubrication of foreplay and caresses, it felt dry when I inserted it. Although it wasn't very comfortable, the solid, enveloping feeling made my penis feel even more pleasure. I slowly pulled out, and Aunt Green slowly exhaled and said, "Don't use too much force."

Before she could finish the word "force," I couldn't help but thrust in and out forcefully.

The feeling of making love with a mature woman was so good it numbed my thoughts. The pleasure of having sex with a married woman seeped into my soul little by little. Since your husband doesn't want you anyway, why not be my woman and satisfy each other's sexual desires? I poured all the emptiness I felt from not being able to have my mother, and the loneliness I felt from my mother's indifference towards me because of her work, into Aunt Green.

I think Aunt Green probably won't understand why I love her so much. She might think that I, in my naivety, only chose her because I wanted a casual sex partner, or to satisfy my fetish for mature women. Or maybe it's just that college students are full of curiosity about sex. Those were just the various reasons that led me to contact Aunt Green at the beginning.

Once they were in bed, Aunt Green realized that all I wanted was the thrill of an affair. The lonely, seductive woman sat alone at the shop entrance, watching the crowds come and go. The cigarette she held in her hand, like a wisp of fragrance, drifted downwards under the yellow light above the shop entrance, revealing the truth beneath Aunt Green's smiling facade—a detached indifference born of worldly wisdom. Perhaps what initially attracted me to Aunt Green was that fleeting moment when she smiled broadly with her mother at home, a hint of loneliness lurking in her eyes when no one noticed.

I once thought I would be with Aunt Green forever. Back then, I loved her so much. Now, as I'm pushing and shoving Aunt Green's buttocks hard on the bed, I press down on her lower back with both hands, making her lie face down on the bed. I pull a pillow with my left hand so that Aunt Green's head can rest on it, and then use my left index finger to part Aunt Green's bangs to the left, revealing her right cheek, ear, and neck. I love looking at women like this, as if I'm admiring a work of art, carefully appreciating Aunt Green's tender ear.

Aunt Green enjoyed my blowing, licking, sucking, drilling, and biting. The rough surface of my tongue kept scratching her ears. A woman's ears are very sensitive. Although I didn't thrust, my penis remained inside her vagina. Every time I played with her earlobe, I could feel Aunt Green's vagina contracting and clamping my penis due to excitement.

I used my left hand to pull Aunt Green's right shoulder back, exposing her right breast completely in front of me. My right hand directly supported the lower edge of Aunt Green's right breast with the base of my thumb and forefinger, and then, like wrapping a dumpling, I contracted it inward, as if my thumb and forefinger formed a C. The lower edge of the C supported the breast, and then my thumb and forefinger slowly moved inward to form a V. This squeezed the breast, and finally, the point where my thumb and forefinger touched could pinch the nipple, stimulating Aunt Green's sensitive area.

I repeatedly held the lower edge of her breasts, first squeezing and shaking them from side to side, then using my palms to enjoy the soft, tender feel of a mature woman's breasts. Finally, I pinched her nipples with my fingers, then spread them open, like playing a piano, and moved them up and down, rubbing them between my fingers. My lower body unconsciously twisted my waist, my thighs just clamping around Aunt Green's fleshy buttocks, my penis carrying the wet, lustful fluid from Aunt Green's played breasts, enjoying the pleasure of this night's sexual intercourse.

"Anyone want a bento?" A waitress at Taroko Gorge, dressed in a Taiwan Railway uniform, a pretty young woman with a shapely figure, pushed a food cart back and forth in the middle of the train aisle, pulling me back to reality from my dozing reverie. When I woke up, the view outside the window had changed to an endless sea, the sky so bright blue, the ocean so deep indigo. I could almost smell the summer air, and the lewd atmosphere emanating from the woman next to me.

When my mother handed me the bento she had just paid for, I had accidentally gotten an erection because I had been fantasizing about Aunt Green during my dozing, so I kept pulling my shirt down to cover it up, at least to make it less noticeable. My mother seemed to notice, and gave me a strange smile.

As I held the bento box to put it on my desk, my mother wouldn't let go. I asked, puzzled, "Mom, why won't you give it to me?" She grinned mischievously and said, "This bento is for good kids, not bad kids."

"How am I bad?" I said innocently.

"Who knows what you were thinking just now? You're so lecherous!" my mother pouted.

"Oh my god, okay, since Mom looks so good today, I'll just...!" I said casually.

My mother said hastily, "Who knows if you're missing me? Just because you're thinking about me doesn't mean you'll do this. If you let me see you, you'll eat me alive."

"Mom..." I drawled in protest. My mother then stuck out her tongue and let go of my lunchbox. As I relaxed and placed the lunchbox on the table, my mother suddenly grabbed my half-erect penis with her right hand. Although I was wearing ordinary fitted trousers today, my penis was still bulging out.

"Still so hard? Why don't you just confess? What were you thinking about just now?" My mother asked playfully like a child.

I said nervously, "Mom, stop it. There are people around."

"You just love excitement. Tell me now, or I'll break it. I think it's fine if you break it. Anyway, you only ever do things to me."

My mother gave me a disapproving look.

"Okay, Mom's wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt today, and her breasts are all bulging out. I was thinking how nice it would be to massage them, so I was just having these random thoughts."

I blurted out in a panic.

My mother finally released my penis, then flicked my glans with her finger and said, "If you keep thinking like that, Mom won't dress up anymore."

How could I tell the truth that I was just thinking about having sex with Aunt Green? But why did my mother pinch me? And what did she mean by saying she wouldn't dress up anymore? Didn't she forbid me from thinking about incest with her? Then why did she say she wouldn't dress up anymore? Did she dress up just for my sake? Too many questions swirled in my mind, but I quickly composed myself. Knowing my mother's personality, I decided it was best not to overthink things, lest it just be my own one-sided overthinking. The bridge between my mother and me, which had been gradually repaired, needed to be built step by step.

Even so, my semi-erect penis was still painfully swollen, so I went to the bathroom to tidy up my underwear. Since I was sitting by the window and my mother was by the aisle, as I stepped over her feet to leave, I accidentally tripped over her foot, and my genitals were directly in front of her face, only five centimeters away, just enough to touch her cheek.

In that instant, my mother looked at my genitals and turned her head away shyly. It was the first time I had ever seen my mother with that expression, that kind of mature woman's unexpected expression that made me blush. This caused my semi-erect penis to become fully erect, so I had to rush to the toilet.

In the cramped train toilet, I held my rock-hard penis, unable to urinate no matter how hard I tried. I could only slowly rub it, thinking of my mother's shy expression. My mother was like fire, passionate and fiery; Aunt Green was like water, gentle and tender. One was the dominant one, the other the submissive one. Both were women I loved dearly. Aunt Green was so elegant, almost my ideal dream girl—wealthy, working at a coffee shop, a wife neglected by her husband, gentle towards men, a typical submissive woman, embracing me like water. No matter the pain in my life, Aunt Green always listened silently, making me realize I was no longer alone.

And my mother? During my student days, I resented my mother's lack of concern for me. Now that I've moved back home to live with her, her passion remains. She exudes a strong mature woman's hormones, and her tangible body is hard to ignore. Her queen-like words are seductive, possessing both the authority of a mother and the enthusiasm of a lively, silly older sister. I don't know whether she feels happy or enjoys this ambiguous feeling about her son's love for her.

I fantasize that because of what happened just now, my penis is pressed tightly against my mother's large breasts. I then pull my blushing mother up and half-pull her into the bathroom, making her sit on the toilet seat. My mother's proud eyes are full of disdain. I can only beg her, have pity on your precious son, please help me, I'm going crazy.

My mother could only say coquettishly, "Do you want me to zip up your pants? To take your penis out for you?" I slowly loosened my pants, revealing my huge penis. The glans looked even more stimulating under my mother's gaze. My mother was stunned for a moment. I took my mother's hand and asked her to caress it for me. My mother resisted a couple of times at first, but she couldn't resist me. In the end, she held my penis and began to stroke it.

If the passengers on the train knew that this mother and son were in the restroom, and that the beautiful woman was actually masturbating her son, I don't know what they would think. Thinking about this kind of fantasy about incestuous motherhood made me speed up my hand movements, continuing to fantasize about my mother masturbating. My mother's expression was complicated, but she wanted me to come quickly. I had no choice but to say to my mother, "Mom, please, I want oral sex."

My mother glared at me and said, "No, don't even think about it."

"Then can I see your cleavage? That way I'll ejaculate faster."

My mother frowned, lost in thought.

I unbuttoned my mother's shirt, revealing a low-cut U-neck camisole underneath. Her two round, full breasts bulged against the camisole, and the deep V-shaped cleavage of her breasts was right in front of me. I ran my fingers along the cleavage from top to bottom. My mother symbolically tried to stop me, but I grabbed her right hand with my left. My mother released my penis with her left hand, and I had no choice but to say, "Mom, hurry up... Don't you want me to come faster? Then help me."

Only then did my mother reluctantly grasp my penis.

My mother rhythmically moved up and down, pulling the foreskin down to expose the glans. She would pull the foreskin back up to cover the glans, then pull it back up again. With her left hand encircling the lower edge of the glans, each up-and-down motion rubbed against the glans, making it incredibly pleasurable. I released my mother's right hand and used both hands to pull her pantyhose up from the bottom because I wanted to see her bra. My mother's abdomen was flat, but with a bit of mature woman's flesh. The pearl-white bra, designed in the shape of a seashell, steadily covered and supported her large breasts.

When I pointed my glans at my mother's cleavage, she glared at me again. She had initially wanted to do a nipple play, but then decided against it. My mother started to get impatient and said, "My hand is tired, you can do it yourself."

After saying that, my mother got up to leave. I panicked and had no choice but to grab the quick-acting masturbator myself. When my mother stood up and started to fasten the buttons on her chest, I buried my face in them. Her huge breasts were soft and fluffy against my face, and the milky scent mixed with my mother's body fragrance made me even more confused and infatuated.

Using my sense of touch, I pressed my chin against the top of her bra and flipped it down, exposing my mother's right breast completely. She hurriedly put her camisole over my head, trying to push me away. Judging by my position, I opened my mouth and sucked hard—successfully, her nipple was in my mouth.

Her movements slowed immediately, and I began to suckle. "No…stop…okay,"

my mother said, trembling.

It turned out that her nipples were her erogenous zones. I licked them clockwise with the tip of my tongue, then counterclockwise. My mother's left hand tightly gripped my right, while my right hand embraced her, holding her breasts against me so I could play with her nipples. I then rapidly licked her nipples, adding sucking, releasing, blowing, licking repeatedly, sucking hard, biting lightly, and playing with them in various ways. I licked her areolas vigorously, and my mother was completely lost in a daze, slumped against me.

I used my left hand to pull my mother's right hand to caress my penis. My mother was too weak to masturbate, so I had to put her back on the mat. When my mother glared at me angrily, I pointed my penis in front of her eyes and quickly masturbated. "Mom... let me ejaculate in your mouth."

My mother shook her head.

"Then I'll ejaculate on your face?" "You dare?" the mother roared.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I can't hold back anymore. Wait, you don't need to use your mouth to catch it, I'll just shoot it on your face and get your clothes dirty. I can't take it anymore, I'm going to come, ah..." My mother stubbornly refused to open her mouth, so I had to pull down her panty again in that instant, revealing her full cleavage. My glans pressed directly against the middle of her cleavage, and thick, white semen shot into her cleavage in spurts. Watching the semen slide down her cleavage, my mother's chest heaved with her breath. I grabbed my penis and smeared the remaining semen on my nipples. My mother's face flushed red, and then she pushed me back, hurriedly grabbing a tissue from the side, flipping her breasts open, and wiping away the semen in the middle of her cleavage. My penis was still throbbing after I ejaculated, so I could only lean against the wall and watch my mother tidy her clothes.

After my mother made sure she was done tidying up, she left the bathroom, kicked my shin with her toe, and then elbowed me hard in the stomach. I almost knelt down in pain. Watching her sway her hips as she left the bathroom, the thought of her fiery personality made me want to scream. Although the scene had already made me ejaculate, the thought of her subsequent actions made me hesitate. Sigh, it's better to just think about it. I don't want to risk her sharp tongue. Just having that thought would make me feel incredibly jealous.

After my penis had gone soft, I returned to my seat from the bathroom. My mother looked at me suspiciously. "Why did it take so long?" "My stomach hurt, so it took a little longer,"

I replied.

My mother smiled mysteriously and said, "That long?" "Really, if you don't believe me, fine... wait, there's something else in your words."

I stared at my mother and said.

"You're overthinking it, haha."

My mother covered her mouth and laughed. My mother was actually making a dirty joke at me? I tried to reply, "Whether it lasts or not depends on the person."

"Who?" my mother asked.

"If she has a good figure, is beautiful, and has a lively and cheerful personality, she'll last longer."

I looked at my mother and said.

My mother lowered her head slightly and said, "I really envy that person."

I held her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. I saw in them the untold hardships and helplessness she had endured for so many years. First, she had been alone for many years without the comfort of a man. Second, her son had fallen in love with her and wanted to commit incest. If she were to abandon her identity as a mother, what identity would she have to face her son in the future? Lover? Mistress? Wife? No matter which one, it wouldn't last forever. Perhaps only after finding a reason that could convince herself would she one day accept her son's feelings.

I tried to kiss my mother, but she took the initiative and gently kissed my forehead, my face brushing against her breast—it felt amazing. When I tried to continue with a French kiss, she haughtily said, "Did you say you could touch me?" I was speechless.

The moment I stepped out of the train station, the clean air of Hualien cleared my head considerably. In the distance, mountains stretched endlessly, and on the other side, I could see the ocean—a sight I couldn't see in Taipei. Soon after, my mother's relatives picked us up in their car, and we drove into the city.

Along the way, all sorts of tourists came into view. I tried to ask myself, was this really worth it? Did my mother deserve a better man? I had never thought about these questions before, and only today am I beginning to understand how childish my behavior was.

Should I cling to my mother like a little devil? Sigh, thinking too much makes my head ache. When I arrived at my grandmother's house, the Amis people's hospitality was truly impressive. Everyone was playfully teasing each other, singing, and even I, a wanderer who rarely returns, was immersed in the atmosphere.

Watching my mother drinking and laughing heartily with her relatives, I wondered if she had released a lot of pressure. I walked outside alone. The night sky over Hualien was beautiful, but my feelings were incredibly complex. After all, at this dividing line, whether we move closer or further away, no one knows whether my mother and I will end up well or badly.

In the middle of the night, everyone got completely drunk. My grandmother asked me to help my mother back to her bedroom. My mother smelled strongly of millet wine and started talking nonsense as she lay on the bed. Looking at my mother's appearance and her mature figure, I realized that if I were to have sex with her now, I could justify it as her consent. I swallowed hard, struggling with my reason, and fell into a fantasy.

What would it be like if I slept with my mother while she was drunk? My fiery mother, taking the initiative to French kiss me, her mouth filled with the taste of alcohol. Because of drinking, my mother has become lustful and wanton, all sorts of lewd words ringing in my ears. Would she take the initiative to give me oral sex? When helping my mother upstairs, I let her hang her left hand on the back of my neck, and I held her waist with my right hand, slowly walking upstairs step by step. The fragrance and smell of alcohol on my mother's body inhaled into my mouth.

After my mother took a shower that evening, she changed into a loose-fitting floral dress with a light blue floral pattern and a white base. This made her look much younger. She walked barefoot on the cold floor, and I supported her while stealing glances at her body. If I moved my hand down, I could caress her fleshy buttocks through the thin dress, and I could probably even touch her underwear. If I moved my hand up, I could probably casually brush against her side breast.

When I entered the bedroom, my mother was lying on the bed, her short, black hair loose, and her lips thick and fragrant. The summer night was unusually hot and humid, and my mother's forehead and collarbone were sweating. Her dress was soaked with sweat. I turned on the air conditioner and the fan, and the stuffy environment made me take off my shirt as well.

My mother unconsciously pulled her long skirt up, probably because of the heat. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her tanned, muscular thighs, and slowly, fantasies of incestuous relationships with my mother began to creep into my mind. I hoped she would pull her skirt up a little more so I could see her underwear; her inner thighs were sweating profusely.

My maternal grandmother's house was a detached house in the city, a three-story building.

The Amis relatives in the living room on the first floor like to drink together. The living room faces the door, and there is an open space in front where you can barbecue. They especially like to barbecue wild boar. A large piece of three-layered black wild boar is rubbed with a thick layer of salt, placed on the barbecue grill, and gently roasted over charcoal. While waiting, they drink some millet wine and chat about everything under the sun. In this atmosphere tonight, my mother seems to have put aside her identity as a dentist and a single mother, and returned to the little girl she was in her childhood, nestled in her grandmother's arms, and talking about the most beautiful and earliest times of her childhood.

The air conditioning gradually cooled down, and the temperature in the room finally began to drop, making me feel much more comfortable. My mother had already pulled her long skirt up to her waist, revealing the kind of panties that mature women would wear—a pair of black lace panties with a semi-transparent material that revealed pubic hair, which covered her vulva and swelled into a small hill. The dress was sleeveless, with two thin straps hanging on her shoulders, which had already slipped down her arms, exposing half of her breasts to my eyes. Unlike the usual large-breasted beauties, most people's habit is that beautiful breasts must be large, white, tender, and soft like teardrops.

The biggest reason I'm obsessed with my mother is her breasts. They have a healthy wheat-colored complexion, are firm and round, and can't be held in one hand. Unlike the loose, large breasts of most mature women, my mother's are big and elastic. When she lies down, her breasts don't droop too much. Although I've never seen them, my mother usually wears a bra. But the most alluring thing is the deep cleavage. Sweat drips onto the cleavage, making the summer night even more arousing.

I took a towel and wiped the sweat from my mother's forehead to prevent her from catching a chill from the air conditioning. I slowly wiped her forehead, face, behind her ears, neck, and collarbone. It was the first time I had seen my mother's breasts so closely. I gently placed my left hand on her half-exposed breast. The elasticity and smoothness of her breasts when my fingertips first touched them aroused me even more. "If I hook my fingers on her bra and dress and pull down hard, I can see her nipples, right?" I murmured to myself. But I still pulled back. I picked up the towel, wet it, wrung it out, and gently wiped the sweaty areas on my mother's arms, shoulders, and chest. Finally, I moved to her lower body and sat down next to her calves.

My mother's bare feet were so beautiful, like jade lotuses encased in stockings, with the curves of her calves and her firm thighs with a touch of middle-aged woman's flesh. Whether it was traditional black stockings, bunny girl fishnet stockings, or nurse's white pantyhose, all sorts of fantasy cosplays made me fantasize about my mother countless times. I slightly parted my mother's thighs, but found that it was still difficult to wipe, so I spread her legs wider and wider, and accidentally turned them into an M-shaped spread. I didn't expect my mother to be so flexible. Her panties and vulva were right in front of me. I could just flip up her panties and insert directly.

My throat felt dry. Since I wouldn't have a chance to make love to my mother anyway, I figured I might as well take advantage of her drunkenness and have some fun. I knelt in front of her, her legs spread wide, and unzipped my pants. My already engorged penis was ready to enter her. My breathing was rapid, and my heart was pounding.

"Go ahead, Mom won't notice. Go ahead, what if she wakes up?" A demon rose within me. I still couldn't forget the taste of the previous night's sex. Since Mom was still drunk, what was wrong with fucking her ass? That's right, maybe Mom would even cooperate, twisting her waist and swaying her hips on top of me, moving herself? Perhaps she would even suck on my index finger that I put in her mouth like a slut, wriggling her hips like a woman on top of a man, like a slut in heat, loudly saying that she wanted her son to fuck her to death, saying things like, "What a big cock, so thick, so hot, go in deeper," and other lewd things, while watching her mother's breasts sway up and down, until I felt dizzy.

I gripped my mother's right buttock with my right hand, squeezing, slapping, pinching, and flicking it. My four fingers hooked around her buttocks, prying them open to the right, stretching her anus. My left thumb pressed against her clitoris, rubbing it up and down incessantly. My mother trembled with pleasure. As soon as she stopped moving, I thrust my hips forward, forcefully pushing my penis up.

My mother had no choice but to continue, enjoying the rubbing of her clitoris in front and the scratching of her buttocks and anus from behind. The greatest pleasure of having a mother is making her willingly have sex with you. But my mother is not like other mothers and sons, most of whom are forced, coerced, or seduced by their sons. Although I admit that it feels good and gives a sense of conquest, true success lies in conquering a highly educated woman like my mother.

You're thrusting hard in bed, and your mother, because of the deep penetration, keeps having orgasms and her juices flow freely. When you want to change positions, she'll say with a haughty air, "It's not so bad, is it? A young man's penis is nothing special," using these contrasting words to arouse your animalistic instincts.

The thought of your mother's proud demeanor while giving you oral sex creates an indescribable pleasure. You can't describe it; you can only close your eyes and let your glans savor the sensation of her slender, saliva-laden lips sucking harder, even after you've already ejaculated inside her, she continues to suck your penis.

But no, what if I wake up? It's even better when you wake up. Ask your mother if she loves your penis while you're thrusting in and out. This makes your mother feel both ashamed and comfortable. She might scold you verbally, but as you thrust wildly into her vagina, she has no choice but to let you press down on her and let your son's penis go in and out of her body.

As I tried to pull up my mother's underwear, a flood of thoughts rushed through my mind. For some reason, Aunt Green's face flashed through my mind: my mother coming home from work in her dentist's coat, scolding me angrily for my poor grades; the graduation ceremony the year I graduated high school, hoping my mother could find time to see me, even just for a short while, I would be content. Unfortunately, from the beginning to the end of the ceremony, I never saw my mother; the only thing she sent was a congratulatory text message.

My mood plummeted. I put on my pants, settled my mother in, and draped a blanket over her. Looking at her slightly weathered face, I realized that while makeup can conceal a person's true feelings, what about their heart? I walked out of the room to the drying area on the third floor, then climbed up the iron stairs next to the water tower to the roof.

I lay on the roof, where the temperature from the sun began to dissipate in the middle of the night, making it warm and cozy. The stuffiness made me dizzy, and a cool breeze swept over me. So many distant memories, like an old photo album, turned page by page with the passage of time, back to my youthful days.

The year I entered high school, I wanted to save money for my family, so I planned to go to military school. However, my mother didn't want me to go. I don't know why, but it might be because of her. I boarded at school in Kaohsiung. Since I had no relatives there, I had to work part-time. The reason I had a relationship with Aunt Green in college was because her friend's daughter was also studying in Tainan. That's how we met. But that's not the point, because Aunt Green only appeared a few times during my high school years.

Most of the time, I got to know her when I moved back home in my senior year. During that time, Aunt Green would often come to visit. It wasn't until I left home to study in Taoyuan that we started to be together. But after all that, as a high school student at the time, I had a lot to say to my mother, but I never had the chance.

Actually, at that time, I didn't want to study in the south at all. I wanted to live with my mother, even though she was busy with work and didn't have much time to take care of me. But the summer before I was in my first year of high school, I went to the beach with my mother. Because my mother's one-piece tight swimsuit was so sexy, I even went to the bathroom to masturbate. There were often men staring at my mother on the beach. My mother's figure before the swimsuit was covered up was very impressive.

At that time, I thought that I needed to be more mature and not become a burden to my mother, so I chose to study in a dormitory. After I separated from my mother, I began to regret it. I spent three long, lonely nights. Whenever there was a holiday, my classmates would always go home to eat their mothers' cooking, but what about me? Those three years of torment and longing led me to pour all my love into letters, which I also showed to my mother. Back then, I was a university student, and in order to forget my mother, I chose Aunt Green. But I never imagined that this would be the beginning of a real mistake. Physical pleasure was undeniable, but the emotional longing for my mother would always remain.

Whenever I was having sex with Aunt Green, I would often fantasize that my mother was on the bed, and the woman I was having sex with was my mother. Although I felt sorry for Aunt Green, I truly loved her in the early and middle stages of our relationship. However, in the end, it was only for the release of my sexual desire that we got together. Perhaps Aunt Green understood this as well.

At first, I only harbored feelings of love for my mother, wanting to grow up quickly and become a man she could rely on. But the more I suppressed my feelings, the more painful it became. I wanted to express this longing, but I couldn't, because I knew it was wrong.

In this world, what mother would accept her own son? Caught in this conflict, I became depressed and helpless, and could only fantasize about my mother. Whenever she called, I would take the opportunity to caress my penis, listen to her voice, and imagine what she looked like, what she was doing. I imagined her voice as that of a slut seducing her son, engaging in sexual arousal over the phone.

Hiding in my dorm room as a high school student, whenever I called my mother, I always hoped she would talk more. Several times, I almost couldn't resist telling her I wanted to have sex with her over the phone. I had fantasized about it many times: a lonely son studying away from home, begging his mother to call him for sex. Perhaps because we weren't face-to-face, my mother became uninhibited, saying all sorts of lewd things, just to let her son release his energy.

Maybe while she was saying those lewd things, she started stroking her clitoris herself. Both of us were fantasizing that the other was masturbating. The lewd things my son said only aroused our sexual desire. Finally, that night, my son ejaculated all over the toilet paper, and my mother's thighs were covered in sticky vaginal fluid. I could hear my mother's panting on the phone.

Several times I hoped my mother would come to the school to see me, just to dispel my longing and lust. Taking advantage of the weekend when the dormitory was empty, my mother dressed casually, like an ordinary woman. Under the pressure of the senior year exams, she couldn't resist my pleas and drove to Taichung in the middle of the night. I also took a car to Taichung. My mother kept scolding me for being bad while driving. Knowing my mother's temper, I really couldn't win against her, so I reluctantly came to see me.

Taking advantage of the weekend when no one was around, my mother said she was going to my dormitory under the guise of parental authority. As soon as we entered the room, I immediately kissed my mother, our tongues intertwined and exchanging saliva. I pulled my mother's hand to touch my penis. My mother looked at me with disdain and told me to sit properly. With my mother's proud attitude, how could she possibly kneel in front of me to masturbate me? I had no choice but to take off my pants and expose my penis. My mother angrily said that if it weren't for me lying to her that I was under so much pressure that I wanted to die, she would never have done such a thing. After my desperate pleas, she had no choice but to lock the door, reveal her slender fingers, and start masturbating her son. I lay on the bed, looking at my mother's face, so impatient, yet she was still stroking my penis. It felt

so good. I really wished my mother could help me release my sexual desire and become my slutty mother. At that time, that's really what I thought. As a high school student, Man Nanzi only had sex, wanted to have sex with his mother, liked the charm of mature women, enjoyed the pleasure of being a wife, and more importantly, the secret affair brought about by mother-son incest.

After enjoying the breeze on the rooftop for a while, I went back to my room and saw my mother fast asleep. Although my lustful thoughts about her grew stronger, how could I force her? I lay down next to her, closed my eyes, and quickly drifted off to sleep because of exhaustion. The sound of the air conditioner whirring in my ears grew fainter and fainter, and the murmuring sound was just like my mother's bedtime murmurs every night before I went to sleep, so calm and peaceful.

When I was half-awake, it was just getting light. I got up and checked the time on my phone. I didn't expect the glaring light to wake my mother. She asked me what time it was, still half asleep. When she found out it was five, she closed her eyes again. Then she snuggled into my arms and whispered in my ear, "I'm still drunk, you know?" Her breath was on my face. I moved my lips closer to hers again. She didn't speak. This time, I asked first, "Mom... can I kiss you?" We remained silent, but the soft, sweet lips on my lips spoke volumes.

Half-asleep, I woke up just as dawn was breaking. I found my genitals swollen from morning erection, pressing against a soft, fleshy body. Last night, I think I had just come in from outside and was so hot that I had just pulled down to my underwear and lay down next to my mother to sleep.

Now, when I woke up, I subconsciously mistook my mother for Aunt Green, lying on my side and embracing her waist from behind. My mother was also lying on her side, my penis pressed tightly against her buttocks, and I subconsciously rubbed against her buttocks. This was the position I had taken the day after having sex with Aunt Green.

I wondered if my mother had already noticed. She was lying on her side with her back to me, her waistline shaped like a Coke bottle. The hem of her skirt was still up to her waist, and her entire buttocks were exposed in front of me. Although it wasn't that bright yet, in the hazy vision, I could see that her fleshy buttocks were distorted by lying on her side, and her black underwear was being pulled along with her large buttocks. A bit of underwear was still stuck in her cleft. My erect penis was only a short distance away from my mother's buttocks.

"Just a little bit more, right..." I told myself. I moved my body closer to my mother, lowering my penis to the front of her buttocks. My heart had never raced so fast in my life. I slowly pushed my hips forward, letting my penis press against the middle of my mother's buttocks, gently against her underwear. I pressed down a little more, letting my penis sink into the cleft, and then stopped.

Enjoying the elasticity of my mother's buttocks, I wondered, "Mom... won't wake up now?" I felt nervous, afraid of being discovered and dying. But it also felt good. I started to rub gently up and down, the glans sliding along the cleft, finally pressing against my mother's vulva, slowly rubbing against her through her underwear.

I was so overwhelmed with pleasure that I couldn't speak. I wanted to use my mother's thighs for leg sex, but I was afraid that if I moved too much, she would wake up. So I just followed the cleft of her buttocks and thrust all the way to

her vagina. I swallowed hard and listened to my mother's breathing. She seemed to be still fast asleep, probably because of the effects of the alcohol. She was still very tired. By this time, I was fully awake. My left hand couldn't help but start stroking it. I looked at my mother's naked buttocks and fantasized. "Want to touch it? Will it wake me up if I touch it? Then don't pinch or rub it."

With my right hand, I slowly pulled my mother's panties towards her buttocks, making them a thin line that sank deep into the cleft. My mother's plump, wheat-colored buttocks were right in front of me. Was this the same buttocks I had pinched and rubbed last time? As I pressed my penis against half of her buttocks again and began to rub it up and down, my mother's right hand reached back and pulled her skirt down to cover her buttocks. I stopped in shock, only able to hear my own breathing. Had my mother noticed? I pressed my penis forward again, rubbing it against her through her dress. My mother flinched, but I persisted. She reached back with her right hand, pressing against my body to prevent me from moving forward. I couldn't see her face, so I didn't know her expression. But at that moment, I was completely consumed by lust. I grabbed her hand and touched my penis. As soon as she touched my genitals, she pulled her hand back. Then, I held onto her thighs and pressed her fleshy buttocks against my penis. My entire penis was tightly enveloped by her soft buttocks.

"Have you made a scene yet?" my mother yelled at me. I was stunned for a moment, then released her buttocks. Since I came home, my mother had never yelled at me like that. At first, I felt ashamed, but then for some reason, I became sullen and turned my back to her to continue sleeping.

I had always thought it would be as I imagined: my mother, feeling sorry, would hug me and rub her large breasts against my back. I grabbed my mother's left hand with my left hand and wrapped it around my waist, wanting her to touch my penis. My mother struggled for a moment, then sighed in my ear, "You think you're so bold?" "Mom, please, please, just this once,"

I pleaded.

"Still being stubborn?" my mother said.

"I can't do it anymore, Mom, hurry up!" "You're so annoying, why are you hard so early in the morning?"

my mother said dismissively.

"Boys are all like this in the morning,"

I said.

I took off my underwear, revealing my penis, and pulled my mother's hand to hold my penis. The warmth of my mother's palm made my lower body even more engorged and hot. I grabbed my mother's hand and stroked it up and down. My mother moved symbolically twice and then stopped, and then withdrew her hand. This time I grabbed my mother's hand and pulled it back, and called out, "Mom..." Only then did my mother reluctantly grip my penis again, "Shut up and babble," my mother muttered.

My mother gripped my genitals tightly with her five fingers, pushing the foreskin up to cover the glans. She pinched the foreskin between her index finger and thumb, quickly rubbing the glans with her mouth. The glans, slippery under the foreskin, became even more stimulating with her constant rubbing – it felt amazing! Then, she formed an "O" shape with her thumb and forefinger, tightly encircling the lower edge of the glans, and forcefully pulled the foreskin back completely, revealing the bright red glans.

"Mom, it hurts!" I protested.

My mother chuckled and said, "If you're naughty, I'll deliberately squeeze harder. Don't you like me gripping your penis?" "Mom, you're too direct, it sounds lewd,"

I said.

"You expect me to masturbate you, and you still have the nerve to call me a pervert?" my mother said, stroking herself.

I rolled over and lay down, pulling my mother onto me so she would lie on her side. My mother frowned and said, "Trying to treat me like an AV actress?" I didn't say anything, but my eyes told her that I really wanted her right now. My mother could only look at me while stroking myself with her left hand.

Her half-naked, huge breasts were pressed directly against my chest, squeezing and deforming them, making the cleavage even deeper. My mother looked at me and said, "If you lick my breasts again this time, I'll break you right here and take your last name, you understand?" She said it, but I was still scared. My penis wanted to enjoy my mother's tenderness a little longer.

"Mom, I'm about to cum... Hurry up!" I looked at my mother with hazy eyes. She looked back at me and quickened the pace of her left hand. A feeling of wanting to ejaculate surged through me. My mother said, "Hurry up, my hand is sore." "

Mom, I'm about to come, I want to cum in your hand."

As I shouted, I immediately started masturbating, not giving my mother a chance to dodge. I made her open her hand, and my glans pressed against her palm. A thick stream of semen gushed out. As my penis throbbed, spurts of semen shot out. My mother opened her left palm, and the foul-smelling semen flowed on her fingertips. "It stinks and smells, and you're not even going to get me some toilet paper?"

my mother said angrily.

I pointed my penis next to my mother's hand and said, "Mom, give me another thrust, please."

"You, sigh,"

my mother said.

My mother's left hand was covered in semen, and she started stroking my penis. Her entire penis was sticky, and my mother looked very helpless. This was understandable, after all, if others found out about this, it would be all over.

"Mom, the second round is almost over, Grandma and the others are downstairs, hurry up."

I said this deliberately to provoke my mother.

My mother frowned and said, "If you keep talking nonsense, I won't help you."

But my mother's movements really did speed up, making me feel like I wanted to ejaculate again. This time I stood up and pointed my penis at my mother's face. My mother was puzzled at first, and then she knew what I was going to do and became even more displeased.

"Mom, please, Grandma will be coming up to call us for breakfast soon, please!" I said as I brought my glans close to my mother's mouth. My mother pushed my thighs with both hands to stop me from going forward. Just then, Grandma's voice came from outside the door, "Get up!!!" Grandma called from outside the door and turned the doorknob to come in. My mother immediately jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to block it, afraid that Grandma would see this scene.

A middle-aged woman, having spent the night with her son, woke up in the morning to find her breasts half-naked and her left hand covered in a thick liquid. Anyone entering the room and seeing this scene, smelling the stench in the air, would roughly guess what had happened. The mother cried out, "Grandma, don't come in yet, I'm not dressed."

Seeing her so anxious amused me, I made a face at her, and she gave me the middle finger.

"But isn't your son in the room? Why aren't you dressed?" the grandmother asked.

"No, he woke up a while ago and went out for a walk."

My mother finally locked the door. As she was about to walk back to the bed, I pushed her against the door and turned her over, thrusting my genitals hard into her buttocks. My mother stared at me with wide eyes. Then I pulled down her underwear. My mother held onto it tightly with her right hand. In the struggle, someone bumped into the door, making a loud noise. My

mother and I both stopped. "What are you doing? Trying to demolish the house?"

my grandmother said.

My mother hurriedly shouted, "It's nothing, it's nothing, I just tripped."

At this moment, I held my penis and pressed the head against her vulva, trying to thrust upwards. However, because my mother kept twisting her hips, I couldn't penetrate her even after two or three attempts. My mother kept trying to turn around so that her buttocks faced the door, so I couldn't directly hold her buttocks and fuck her from behind. I thought that wouldn't work either, so I took a step back and simply let my mother turn around so that she was facing me. When she tried to say something, I pointed to the door to indicate that my aunt could hear me, and my mother gave up. When my aunt called my mother again, I took advantage of the moment when my mother was distracted, and directly reached my hands into her skirt, hooked her lace panties, and pulled them down to her ankles.

My mother tried to bend over to put on her underwear, and I seized the opportunity to grab her hair and shove my penis directly into her mouth, all the way to her throat. Because of the underwear on her ankles, she couldn't walk at all and almost fell over with every step. With each thrust, the head of my penis hit her throat, and she made unintelligible sounds. Then my aunt called out "Mother" a few more times, and my mother glared at me, brushed my hand away, stood up, coughed twice, and said, "It's okay, it's okay, Grandma." "Go eat first... Ahhh..." As my mother spoke, I faced her directly, with her back against the door. I lifted her left leg with my right hand, held my penis with my left hand, and thrust into her vagina again. My mother pushed against my chest with both hands to prevent me from entering, but before she could finish speaking, my glans pressed against her vulva, and with a thrust of my waist, I slowly inserted it into the honey pot that my mother had guarded until the very last moment.

Knock, knock, knock. There was a knock on the door. "What's wrong? Is there a cockroach? Why are you yelling like that? Are you seeing ghosts?" Grandma called from outside the door.

Mother said, "You were right, Grandma, but unfortunately... I... killed it..." I began to slowly thrust in and out. I hadn't expected Mother's private parts to be so wet. The feeling of my penis being tightly enveloped by those fleshy walls was incredibly pleasurable. Looking at Mother's helpless, angry, yet resigned expression, it was utterly adorable.

She couldn't refuse her son's advances, because what if Grandma behind the door found out? Besides, she had already told Grandma that her son had gone out. If she came in now and found her son in bed, how would she explain that? She had no choice but to indulge her son's lust.

I held my mother's lower back with my left hand, thrusting my hips repeatedly. I could feel her juices flowing more and more freely; she seemed to be getting increasingly aroused. I whispered to her that I wanted to go to bed, but she shook her head and said, "Hurry up, if we're discovered, we're both dead."

I had to speed up, our pubic hair rubbing against each other with each thrust. Looking at my mother's wrinkled dress, her messy short hair sticking up, her hazy eyes, and her half-open lips... As I thrust rhythmically, my mother's hands unconsciously wrapped around my neck, her head resting on my shoulder. Breathing heavily, she said, "Come quickly... Mom begs you..." It was the first time I'd heard my mother say such a thing. My mother was always a proud and sharp-tongued woman. Now, this beautiful woman was both ashamed and afraid of being discovered, and yet, she herself was almost at orgasm because of her son. For so many years, she had masturbated alone, and now the man who satisfied her was her own son.

When the head of my penis began to feel a strong urge to ejaculate, I pinched her buttocks with my left hand and said to my mother, "Should I ejaculate inside?" My mother said weakly, "No, you can't!" "Then how about ejaculating in Mom's mouth?" I said as I thrust.

"No, no!" my mother said.

"I don't care, I want to cum inside, ah..." The harder I thrust, the more pleasurable it felt, unlike anything I'd ever experienced with other women. The beautiful woman I was now forcefully penetrating against the door was none other than my own mother, whom I saw day and night.

If I didn't take this opportunity to fuck her hard, when would I ever have another chance? Just as I was about to ejaculate, I pulled out. My mother, who was standing on one leg, collapsed onto the floor from the pleasure. I put my glans into her mouth again. She looked up at me, her mouth full of my semen. I deliberately did a deep throat, causing her to choke and accidentally swallow some semen. She then spat it out on the floor. I quickly put on my pants. My mother told me to hide behind the wardrobe. I hurriedly opened the door, chatted with my aunt, and told her that everything was alright before quickly sending her out of the room.

This is a scenario I fantasize about, but unfortunately, such a SOD scenario is really hard to happen in real life. In reality, my mother and I slept back-to-back until dawn without exchanging a single word. When I woke up in the morning, my mother was already gone, leaving me alone to sleep until I naturally woke up.

After going downstairs, I called my mother, but she didn't answer. The downstairs was empty; had everyone gone out? Had she abandoned me and gone off to play with relatives? No way! I walked along muttering to myself, arriving at the toilet. When I tried to open the door to pee, I found it stuck. I tried pulling it a few times, but it wouldn't budge. Was something wrong? Even using the toilet was God's way of working against me. I pulled hard on the wooden doorknob, the gaps in the door creaking. When I finally managed to pry the door open, a woman was squatting on the toilet, staring at me with her big eyes.

"Close the door right now!" my mother said, glaring at me. Startled, I quickly slammed the door shut. I listened to the sounds inside from outside and complained, "Mom, why didn't you lock the door?" My mother retorted angrily, "Why wouldn't I lock it? The lock was broken a long time ago!" "Then at least make a sound,"

I complained.

My mother said, "Who knows who's outside the door? What if it's someone else? Besides, I knocked."

I said, "Sorry, sorry, I was so desperate I didn't hear you. Mom, hurry up."

My mother said, "My stomach hurts, stop nagging."

I had no choice but to pee in the nearby ditch. When I was halfway through, my mother came out and looked at me holding my penis as I peed. Her eyes darted around.

After I zipped up my pants, I thought that if I had looked more closely, I might have seen my mother's vulva. My mother asked me, "Where are the others?" I said I didn't know. My mother looked around and, finding that my aunt wasn't there either, suddenly changed her expression and looked at me, saying, "Come here with me now."

My mother and I went to the side room on the third floor. My mother turned to me and said, "What exactly do you want? Haven't I told you so many times? We're mother and son, we can't have a sexual relationship. Have you been corrupted by those incestuous videos? How many times do I have to tell you before you understand?" I didn't dare to look my mother in the eye. Looking into my eyes, I casually said, "But Mom, can't you even help me masturbate?" My mother crossed her arms and said, "Fine, then let me ask you, what if I help you masturbate, and then what? Will that satisfy you? I don't believe it. Do you think I'd do what those stories of mothers and sons committing incest do? Help you masturbate, then give you oral sex, and finally just lie in bed and let you have your way?" My mother's bold words actually made me feel a little excited.

"What exactly do you want from me? You're so old, you need to be more mature. I know you love me, but love doesn't have to be expressed this way. Do you think I'm like those articles, lonely and restless, seeking sexual release with my son? Don't be silly, those are all lies. Even if they were, I couldn't accept that kind of relationship, it's too strange. Besides, we're related by blood. Do you really want me to be your woman?" My mother paused, then continued, "Wake up! In real life, how could a mother do that kind of thing for her son?" I said, "Didn't you feel anything last night, Mom?" My mother pondered, "What did you feel?" "It was when I was thrusting into you,"

I continued.

"Well, Mom didn't have any other thoughts. I just saw you as someone I wanted to release my sexual desires."

I felt disappointed, but I couldn't say anything.

In that instant, I felt like something was missing from my heart. "Then Mom... please, just once is enough. I want to have sex with you."

I finally said it.

My mother paused, lost in deep thought, then slowly said, "No, I can't convince myself. Let's not bring this up again, okay?" I remained unusually calm, coldly stating my thoughts of the past few years, "Mom, do you know, I've watched you grow up since I was little, but have you fulfilled your responsibilities as a mother? In my memory, you've always been working. I only knew you were busy, but I didn't know what you were busy with. So, from a young age, I pretended to be strong, thinking I could become your pillar when I grew up. But I never imagined you'd always treated me like a child."

I walked towards my mother. "Honey," I said, looking at my mother, "Yes, I am a pervert. I had a mother complex in high school, in college, and even now. I thought I could let go of her this time I came back, but she's so beautiful, how can I forget her? Mom, just this once, give it to me!" *Slap!* A crisp sound rang out as she slapped my face, leaving a burning mark on my left cheek. My mother frowned and said, "Are you awake now? I don't lack men to support me, nor do I lack men to nourish me. This slap is to make you give up completely, understand?" I took a few steps back. I had never felt so humiliated in my life. Actually, I knew how naive I was.

I thought my relationship with my mother was easier than most people's, but I didn't realize it was all just wishful thinking. Was I really awake now? My eyes welled up with tears. I didn't yell or scream, nor did I cry my heart out. I just felt myself rise to another level, a kind of pain that was more unbearable than physical pain. It was a kind of suffering that you were powerless to change.

I wiped my eyes, my nose twitching, and said, "So many years have passed. Before I entered junior high school, my mother was so lively and energetic. I was always happy to have such a mother. Although life was a little tough back then, it was still joyful. Until high school, when you were busy preparing for your dental studies, was I being willful? When I was in college, you were busy with work, did I complain? Now that I'm back, I just crave that little bit of motherly love..." My mother seemed to feel a pang, but she didn't say a word as I left. The cool summer breeze from Hualien blew into the side room from the third-floor balcony, carrying away the sweltering sweat from my body, and also carrying away the longing my mother had felt for me after so many years of separation.

I packed my bags without saying goodbye to anyone. When I was leaving, my mother stayed on the third floor the whole time. Even when I walked out of the courtyard and wanted to look back at the balcony on the third floor, as if hoping for my mother to appear, I never turned around when I walked out of the alley.

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