The mother who was raped

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-09 17:13:26

First, let me introduce my mother. It started two years ago, when I was 15 and my mother was 36. She was incredibly beautiful: big, bright eyes, a small cherry-like mouth, fair and delicate skin, and a head of jet-black hair. I heard she was a famous beauty in our area when she was young. When we walked down the street, people always mistook her for my older sister. Even after so many years of marriage, she maintained a great figure; her breasts were still firm and her waist was still slender. She and my father worked in the same factory, but because the factory was struggling, my father went to work in Haikou alone. He was gone for two years, only returning home for Chinese New Year. So, it was just my mother and me at home.
One day, I came home from school and found my mother already there. I was surprised because she usually came home late from get off work. Seeing her looking worried, I asked her what was wrong. She told me that her company was laying off staff again, and she heard her name was on the list. I tried to sound shrewd and said, "What's the big deal? Who gets laid off is just a matter of the factory manager's word. You can bring him something tonight." My mother replied, "You're so clever. Do you think no one else would think of that? But there's no other way right now, so we'll just have to try." Little did I know that my suggestion would lead my mother down a life of debauchery.
That evening, Mom prepared some gifts, then put on light makeup, changed into a tank top, and sprayed on some perfume. She looked like a princess. She kept asking me if I looked good, and I kept saying, "Mom, you're so beautiful!"
She smiled happily, greeted me, and left. Who knew she'd be gone for two hours? When she came back in, I noticed she looked flustered, her eyes avoiding mine, and a blush had crept onto her delicate face. I asked her how she was doing, and she stammered that she was almost done. Then she turned and went into her room, sat in front of the mirror, and took out some cosmetics. That's when I noticed her hair was a little messy, and her lipstick was gone, with some even smeared on the corners of her mouth.
I suddenly had a thought: Could it be…? Even the scene of Mom at the factory manager flashed before my eyes, but strangely, thinking about it made my penis hard, and I felt really excited.
In the days that followed, my mother would often find time to go out in the evenings, and each time she would dress up beautifully. After a couple of times, I became suspicious. One evening, she said she had to go out again, and I quickly said, "Okay, I was just thinking of reading by myself." She smiled and went out the door. I waited for her for two minutes, then hurriedly followed her out. She seemed a little nervous, glancing around every now and then. Luckily, I hid well and wasn't seen by her. I followed her for about ten minutes until I saw her enter a residential building. I had no choice but to wait outside. After a while, I saw the factory manager's car drive up, and the factory manager got out and hurriedly went into the building. I knew the factory manager before; he had even eaten at my house. Apparently, he had been investigated for personal conduct issues. The factory manager was probably in his fifties, very fat, with a protruding belly, and bald except for a small fringe of hair. His teeth were stained yellow from long-term smoking. I saw him eagerly enter the room my mother had just gone into, and then I knew everything. At first, I was furious and really wanted to rush in and confront them, but I didn't know what they were doing when I went in. Thinking about it, I could almost see the factory manager heavily pressing down on my mother, his purplish-red glans against her delicate labia, and then… Thinking about it, my penis became as hard as iron again. I quickly found a public restroom, fantasized about my mother and the factory manager having sex, and masturbated, ejaculating inside. Then I ran home. My mother didn't return for a long time. At that moment, I was pretending to be reading a book obediently; she had no idea I had followed her. But I was still unwilling to let it go, yet I didn't reveal anything. Lust drove me to take further action.

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