His mom is so slutty.

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Today's business trip here reminded me of an event from over a decade ago, stirring up a lot of emotions. Plus, I recently saw some posts about stories with mature women, and I've been hesitant to share them because some comments, even those criticizing the poster, were quite hurtful. This afternoon, I had an appointment with a client to see the products, and I even brought the samples, but the client had to cancel at the last minute. I was so bored in the hotel that I decided to write this down, so please be gentle, fellow readers. The story is absolutely true. If you think it's erotic, please skip this!
The story takes place during my first summer vacation in college. A roommate of mine became very close to me from the first day I moved in, and we were practically inseparable throughout our freshman year. Naturally, we started talking about his family. He was from a single-parent family; his father was lazy and had accumulated a lot of gambling debts. He ran away when my classmate was in middle school, supposedly to the Jiangsu-Zhejiang area, where his fate was unknown, leaving him and his mother behind. My classmate hated his father and didn't care about his whereabouts. My classmate's mother used to be from the countryside. In the 1980s, in order to obtain an urban household registration, she married his father by chance. Anyone with even a slight understanding of that era should know that women who could marry from the countryside to the city in the 1980s were either educated intellectuals or exceptionally beautiful. His mother was the latter, as evidenced by the moment I met her.
His city wasn't far from 027, and he invited me to his home during summer vacation. I had nothing better to do, so I took a bus there. I met his mother when my classmate picked me up from the station and took me to his family's restaurant. Since his father ran away, his mother had run the restaurant all by herself, working tirelessly. From her demeanor and actions, it was clear she was a very capable person. She wore a professional dress and mid-heeled shoes. She wasn't wearing stockings that day, explaining later that she simply didn't like wearing them. She had large eyes, a straight nose, and well-defined features. If I had to compare her to someone familiar to everyone, I felt she looked a bit like Liu Tao. Her breasts weren't particularly large, but I felt they were at least a B cup. Her buttocks were especially striking—very round and full. Looking at them encased in her skirt, I really had the urge to touch them. Her mother greeted me warmly and immediately arranged for other staff to prepare food for us, so I had a very good impression of her. First, she was beautiful, then warm, and she possessed the mature charm appropriate for her age.
After lunch, my classmate took me to his house to rest. After a brief introduction, I took my change of clothes to the bathroom to shower. Actually, I have a peculiar preference: I like mature women and I like used underwear. Combining these two is even more pleasurable than actual sex. So, before entering the bathroom, I hoped there might be some used underwear left by her mother, but I was disappointed—it was empty. After showering, I played a few games with my classmate. I kept asking why his mother hadn't returned yet. He said a manager at the store had taken temporary leave due to family matters, so his mother had to fill in, and she might be late for a few days. Sure enough, her mother came home very late that night. My classmate was already asleep. Because I have trouble sleeping in unfamiliar beds, I could clearly hear her mother closing the bathroom door and running the bathwater. I already had a wicked thought in mind: I was waiting for her mother to take off her used underwear, thinking it was too late to wash it. Later, it turned out I was right. A while after my classmate's mother finished showering and returned to the room, I quietly went into the bathroom pretending to use the toilet. The clothes that had been taken off were piled up on the washing machine, and it was obvious that her mother hadn't covered the underwear with other clothes; it was on the top shelf, clearly visible. The underwear was very ordinary, made of black cotton, but the white discharge in the crotch area was what really bothered me. When I picked up the underwear, my breathing rapid and my hands trembling slightly, I was already rock hard. Without hesitation, I brought it to my nose and smelled the yogurt-like scent, mixed with a slight odor of sweat and urine—it was irresistible. I figured I'd ejaculate soon; some of it landed on her underwear. After wiping myself off, I went back to my room and lay down. That night, I masturbated three times, finally falling asleep completely exhausted.
The next morning, I woke up to find her mother had already gone to work and had cleaned the house spotlessly, including removing the dirty laundry from the washing machine the day before. My classmate and I went out for a walk until noon and then went back to the shop for lunch. When I saw her mother, I immediately sensed something was off. The way she looked at me was different from the day before. I felt guilty, wondering if she knew I'd used her underwear to masturbate the night before. The laundry had dried by now, hadn't it? After a nervous lunch, to make up for my guilt, I offered to stay and help out at the shop. Seeing my determination, her mother agreed. Since the shop had just finished renovations, some old chairs were piled up in the storage room and needed to be disposed of. My classmate, her mother, and several other staff from the Fifth Affiliated Hospital started working. Her mother always wore a business skirt to work, so the neckline was quite low. When she bent over to move things, if I was standing, I could definitely see her bare chest. After a few glances, she noticed, and after we made eye contact, she gently pressed her hand to her chest, smiling and telling me to concentrate on my work because the things were heavy and I shouldn't fall on them. This completely relieved me. There were so many things that we couldn't finish moving them all in one afternoon. Around the time the shop was preparing for dinner, everyone gradually left. My classmate, being lazy, had already gone to play games at the cashier. In the end, only her mother and I were left to do some simple cleaning. I reached out to take the broom from her mother's hand, but she politely declined, telling me to rest. As we jostled each other, I unconsciously grasped her mother's hand holding the broom. A few seconds of awkward silence followed, and the entire atmosphere became incredibly tense. Her mother broke the awkward silence with laughter, asking, "What do you like about me?" I remember clearly her questions, which made me blush with shame. I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to do. Before I could answer, she added, "You're still young, use your hands less. It's bad for your health, don't cause any problems later." I felt like disappearing into a hole, utterly mortified.
I asked, "How did you know?"
She replied, "I'm so much older than you, what haven't I experienced? That night you kept going in and out of the bathroom, I thought you had an upset stomach. I was waiting for you to come out so I could use the restroom too. When I finally went in, the air was thick with the smell of semen, and it seemed like you even ejaculated on my underwear. I picked it up and looked closely, and I was sure."
The conversation was interrupted when the shop assistant came in to call her.
Business was a little slower than usual that day, so she closed the shop and went home early. Her mother bought a large watermelon on her way home, and I was really grateful for that watermelon later, because it gave me the opportunity to succeed. After getting home, my classmate took a shower first, and then went to play games. After I took a shower, I saw her mother outside preparing to cut the watermelon. Because the watermelon was so big and the rind was quite thick, it wasn't easy to cut it with the knife. I quickly went to help, but her mother didn't remove her hand or give me the knife. I inexplicably stood behind her mother, embracing her like I was hugging her, holding her hand down with one hand and using the other to help her cut the watermelon. When I realized this action was rather ambiguous, her mother didn't react in any particular way, as if we were a couple. She casually said, "You eat first, I'm going to take a shower." Leaving me completely bewildered.
I was absentmindedly watching TV on the sofa, secretly excited because I was thinking about her mother's used underwear. The moment the bathroom door opened, her mother was breathtakingly beautiful, like a lotus emerging from water. She was wearing a onesie nightgown, and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra, as I could vaguely see her nipples. Although she wasn't wearing makeup, her delicate, sculpted features couldn't hide her beauty. She went straight to me, sat down, and started eating watermelon. I was about to call my classmate when she said she'd never liked watermelon. As we ate, watched TV, and chatted, her mother gradually opened up. She poured out her grievances, explaining how difficult it was for her to raise a child and support the family alone. She said a woman shouldering such a burden must have suffered a lot. When she seemed about to cry, I handed her a slice of watermelon, hoping to distract her and prevent her from shedding tears in front of me, a younger person. After she took the watermelon, perhaps to prevent tears from falling from her eyes, she slightly raised her head, while still biting into the watermelon. This action caused watermelon juice to flow down her chin, neck, and chest. I quickly grabbed a tissue to try and stop the juice, but there was too much to stop. My hand, following the juice, had already reached below her neck and above her chest. My classmate's mother put down the watermelon, her eyes still wet with tears, and quietly looked at me. I quickly withdrew my hand. Unexpectedly, she took my right hand in both of hers, slowly brought it to her lips, and kissed it. My mind went blank. What she said afterward was something like: I'm sensible, considerate, caring, and good at taking care of people. She wished her husband were like me, or at least her son, but none of them satisfied her. Without thinking twice, I reached out and touched her face with my left hand. Just as I was about to kiss her, she dodged me. My classmate was still playing games in the room, so I didn't dare to make any sudden moves and just sat there obediently.
By this time, she had recovered from her painful memory and returned to reality. I told her I wanted her, and she said, "I'm more than twenty years older than you. What are you thinking? That's impossible. If you want to take care of yourself, go to the bathroom. There are my underwear that I just took off there. Just pretend I don't know anything about it." I silently went to the bathroom and saw the underwear she mentioned. Just as I was about to smell it, I saw a shadowy figure in the bathroom window. Because of the long hair, I was sure it was her. I deliberately took off my underwear and went to open the door. She was standing in front of the door and was stunned when she saw this. I quickly pulled her in and closed the door. We pressed tightly together, and I could feel her rapid breathing. I wrapped one arm around her waist and gently stroked her back, then her round, full buttocks. With my other hand, I guided her hand to my crotch. When her hand touched my penis, she unconsciously took a deep breath and seemed to stretch and rise onto her tiptoes. I searched for her lips and used my tongue to pry open her teeth. The moment our tongues touched, she twisted wildly and started masturbating me. Suddenly, she squatted down and took my penis directly into her mouth. A mature woman is indeed a mature woman; there were no teeth, and she occasionally did deep throating. It was nothing like the feeling of a young girl. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to hold back and was about to ejaculate, so I pulled her up to stand and squatted down, spreading her legs apart. It turned out she wasn't wearing underwear. I went straight to her vulva with my mouth and nose. I have a habit of licking women's vulvas: I like to start by licking up and down around the vaginal opening, then sweeping left and right, then circling the clitoris, and finally gently sucking on it with my mouth. This action needs to be repeated. Then she orgasmed, her whole body trembling, grabbing my hair with both hands, tilting her head back, stretching, and standing on her tiptoes. A woman's orgasm is different from a man's; it can be repeated. I seized the opportunity to have her put her hands on the wall, stick her buttocks up, and penetrate her from behind. Because it was so stimulating, and because she had just used her hands and mouth on me, I ejaculated quickly, all inside her. The moment I finished, she orgasmed again. Later, she told me that as long as there's enough foreplay, she'll definitely orgasm if I ejaculate inside her.
Afterwards, we cleaned up the scene and pretended nothing had happened, returning to the living room to continue chatting and eating watermelon. Ever since that encounter, we've been like animals in heat, seizing every opportunity to have sex—all sorts of positions, places, and even swearing. She has a slight BDSM tendency and enjoys me swearing a bit. Later, I asked her why she accepted me. She said her husband, whose family had urban residency, had affairs while working in a factory. Even after marriage, he continued to have relationships with many young women. Out of revenge, she also sought out young men. Since then, she's become increasingly unable to control herself, finding them passionate, hard, and prolific. She didn't tell me exactly how many young men she'd been with, but her sexual desires gave me the impression of quite a few.
Actually, every time we reached our climax, I felt guilty towards my classmate. As time went on, the mystery faded, and I grew tired of her. She wasn't as enthusiastic as before, and I noticed she was frequently in contact with other people. Sometimes, when she wasn't busy at the shop, she would call me for hours, and if I came over, she would send me away. The last time I left was when we were at home, just as we were about to go back to the shop, my classmate came back. She saw us in the house and questioned us with a puzzled tone. Before I could explain, her mother said I was going back to 027 the next day, so she was buying me some things to take back. Since she said that, I had nothing more to say. We didn't do anything that night, but we talked a lot. The key point was that she hoped I wouldn't come anymore because it would be unfair to my classmate. She also said she was afraid of falling in love with me. I believed her at the time, but now I just laugh. Sometimes when I think about this past, it's hard to say whether I slept with her or she slept with me.
I've thought about going to see her, but that happened more than ten years ago. She was about 45 then, and now she's almost 60. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to handle seeing her. My classmate has already moved to Shenzhen, so I'll pass. I'm also grateful to her for teaching me some things about sex. I've summarized the following points: First,
a woman's physiological needs generally occur about a week before and after her period.
Secondly, women enjoy foreplay; the more foreplay, the faster the orgasm, which is crucial for men with premature ejaculation.
Thirdly, sexual desire transcends age (once a virgin is lost); every woman has sexual desire, just in different ways. Fourthly
, women also like to look at men's buttocks and broad shoulders. She liked looking at my heels, which I found strange at the time. She said it was like men looking at women's breasts and buttocks.

[The End]

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His mom is so slutty.

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