My mature mother

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

The scorching summer heat arrived like a tiger unleashed from its cage. People shed layers of clothing as they sought refuge indoors, enjoying the coolness of air conditioning. But the sweltering heat didn't seem to subside despite people's attempts to escape; instead, it continued to rise, as if venting its discontent… Although it was very hot today, reaching a scorching 49 degrees Celsius, it couldn't dampen my spirits. Today, my whole family was heading to Zhangjiajie to admire its famous scenic spots.

Because I did well on my final exams, my dad, as a reward, planned a trip together. How could I not be excited? After all, I'm quite playful. Just as we boarded the bus to Zhangjiajie, my dad's phone rang. He hurriedly got out to answer it, while my mom, whose face had been smiling, now wore a worried expression. My initial joy turned to despair upon seeing my dad's apologetic face.

Because I knew exactly why Dad looked like that; it had happened a few times before. But I still looked on with hopeful eyes, hoping he would come with us, and sure enough, I expected it. Dad sighed, "Meizhen, something came up at the company that I have to deal with, so I can't go out with you..."

Seeing Mom's gloomy face, I knew she was angry. Dad looked at Mom, seemingly wanting to say something, but his lips moved and he didn't speak. He turned to me and patted my head, saying, "Xiaozhe, listen to Mom on the way, don't run around, don't lose Mom!"

Hearing Dad's not-so-funny joke, I forced a smile. Dad gave us a deep look, sighed, and without saying anything more, turned and left. Just like that, Dad's words completely ruined our initially cheerful mood. We didn't speak the rest of the way. As the car drove onto the highway, the strong smell of gasoline made me drowsy, and I slowly leaned against Mom and fell asleep.

While I was sound asleep, I felt an itch on my face. I instinctively scratched it, and the itch subsided, so I went back to sleep. But after a while, the itch returned, and I scratched again. Then it itch again, and I scratched again… Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I realized someone was deliberately tickling me. Angrily, I opened my eyes, plotting how to punish the person who had so seriously disturbed my sleep. When I looked up, I was greeted by a pair of large, smiling eyes, crescent-shaped eyebrows, a straight, delicate nose, rosy lips, flawless skin, and a snow-white neck. High, firm breasts, a slender waist, and a full, rounded bottom. Wasn't this my mother?

Seeing the teasing look in my mother's eyes, I knew it was all her doing. I snuggled into her arms and said sweetly, "Mom, I was sleeping so soundly, why did you wake me? Are we almost there?" My mother probably found my whining amusing and chuckled, "Look at you, you silly goose! Get up, we're almost there." Seeing her smiling face, I smiled too, and my unpleasant mood lessened considerably. The car slowly

pulled up inside a hotel, and the driver told everyone to get off and rest for the night. I was puzzled; driving at night is normal, so why stop to rest? Later, my mother told me that a little incident had happened while I was sleeping. Apparently, a part in the car had broken down during the journey. The driver checked it and found that the part needed to be replaced, so he drove to the nearest hotel for us to rest for the night and then contacted other cars to pick us up.

Although everyone on the bus was grumbling and complaining, they mostly felt helpless and had no choice but to follow the driver to the hotel. But something even more frustrating happened: the hotel didn't have enough rooms; it simply couldn't accommodate so many people. The hotel owner apologized profusely and asked us to squeeze in. My mother and I didn't argue, because we planned to find another hotel. But when the owner said there wasn't another hotel within a 30-mile radius, my mother and I felt a sense of despair.

Because we hadn't argued with others, the owner gave us two options: a single room with a small bed, only big enough for one person, and a double room with two larger beds, big enough for two people, but we would have to share a room with a woman in her thirties.

I chose the first option without hesitation because I knew my mother was a germaphobe; she would never share a room with anyone other than my father and me. I also had the same germaphobia. I figured even a small bed would be enough for my mother and me, since she was petite, typical of women from southern China, while I, although a boy and developing normally, was still shorter and thinner than her. My mother probably thought the same way and didn't object to my decision, following the hotel owner to the room.

But when we got to the room, my mom and I were dumbfounded. Was this even a bed? It was so small! Two meters long and an arm's width wide. The owner was embarrassed and said, "I won't disturb your rest," before running off. My mom and I both sighed. What could we do? We had to make do. I had planned for my mom to sleep on the bed and me on the floor, but she objected, worried I'd catch a cold. Although it was summer, it was only early summer, so sleeping on the floor wouldn't work.

After showering, I lay in bed and watched TV for a while. A wave of fatigue washed over me, and I slowly drifted off to sleep… I don't know how much time passed, but I woke up with a start, my eyes wide open. All I saw was darkness. After my eyes adjusted, slivers of moonlight shone through the curtains into the dark room. I estimated the time; it was probably between two and three in the morning. I'd probably slept on the bus, because I wasn't sleepy at all; in fact, I felt very energetic.

My mom was sleeping beside me, and a strong, pleasant fragrance wafted towards me, making me feel a little strange. Listening to my mother's even breathing and smelling her fragrance, I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. A surge of heat coursed through my body, finally settling in my lower abdomen. My penis hardened restlessly, throbbing against my underwear. Instantly, scenes from incestuous stories flashed through my mind, finally settling on one I had recently read. My heart pounded, and my breathing became rapid.

Should I do it? I hesitated, but the scenes kept replaying in my mind. I could feel my reason slowly crumbling under the weight of desire, leading me step by step into its abyss… Finally, desire triumphed over reason. My heart pounded restlessly, slowly reaching out my claws towards my mother… Having decided to violate her, I became calm. I slowly began to calm my pounding heart and chaotic breathing in the darkness. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, my brain racing, analyzing the situation. Because the bed was small, it was very cramped for two people to sleep together. I was lying flat, taking up almost half the bed, while my mother was on her right side with her back to me, only taking up about a third of the space. The bed was also quite soft, and if I moved too much, I might wake her, which would be counterproductive.

After analyzing the situation, I began to slowly turn over, very carefully, gradually raising my arms and using my hips and waist to rotate my body, while slowly moving my left leg. Once I was fully turned, I let out a long breath. Large beads of sweat were constantly streaming down my forehead. Although the air conditioner was blowing cold air, it couldn't quell the burning desire within me. I stopped moving because I could clearly feel my mother's even breathing become slightly erratic when I turned over. I waited quietly, barely daring to breathe, straining my ears to the limit, and mentally counting. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief; if I hadn't been careful enough and noticed the change, I might have ruined everything.

After waiting quietly for a few minutes, confirming that her breathing rhythm remained unchanged, I held my breath and slowly reached my left hand towards my mother's shapely buttocks. I needed to determine what she was wearing to bed. The sensation at my fingertips indicated it was soft and smooth, with subtle lines. I tried to analyze it, but after a long time, I still couldn't figure it out. I sighed inwardly; if I were a tailor, I would know what kind of fabric it was.

Since I couldn't tell, I had no choice but to take a risk. I mentally simulated the location of my hand, estimating it to be where my mother's waist and hips met. I had to probe downwards; if it was smooth skin, it meant she was wearing briefs; if it was still soft, it was pajamas. My hand slowly slid down, silently praying it was definitely underwear… My fingers slowly touched a slightly hard substance. Slowly sliding down a little further, I could clearly feel fine hairs. That slightly hard substance must be the edge of her underwear. My heart raced with excitement. I quickly took deep breaths to calm myself. I

listened carefully to my mother's breathing, silently counting a few breaths. Her breathing rhythm was normal, still alternating between long and short breaths. But figuring out how to take off her underwear without disturbing her was a problem. Looking at the dim moonlight behind the curtains, I guessed it was almost four o'clock. I was secretly anxious, thinking for a long time but unable to come up with a good solution. Suddenly, I steeled myself, thinking, "This was wrong to begin with. Mom will find out anyway, and I'll still have to face it. Since it's wrong, I might as well continue down this wrong path!"

Having made up my mind, I didn't hesitate. I slowly moved my hand to my mother's waist, touching her smooth skin. My heart pounded faster, but I ignored the rapid throbbing. I slowly moved my hand down her smooth skin. When I touched something harder, I figured it was her underwear. I slowly inserted my index finger into it, and after confirming it was underwear, I inserted my middle finger. Then, I pulled down slightly. The cool, slippery feel of my fingertip told me that my shameless fingers were violating my mother's most sacred place. While my attention was completely focused on my fingers, I didn't notice my mother's disordered breathing. I

continued pulling down, gradually encountering resistance. I increased the force, and the underwear was pulled down a little more. The resistance increased further as I pulled down, and I guessed it was where my mother's legs were pressing against. I abandoned the side that was being pressed down and shifted my target, reaching for the other side.

When I couldn't pull it any further, I stopped pulling and slowly lifted the thin blanket, letting the moonlight in. In my expectant gaze, I saw a large expanse of snow-white skin—my mother's back. Below that, I saw her white panties, half-pulled open, revealing half of her fair buttocks, a dark cleft partially hidden. The other half was obscured by the panties, preventing me from seeing her face.

Using the moonlight, I slowly reached for the other half of the panties, inwardly screaming, "If I can just pull this half open, I've succeeded!" My hands trembled as I gripped my panties and began to pull them down, little by little… Persistence paid off; I successfully pulled them down to my thighs, revealing her round, snow-white, plump buttocks. I eagerly pulled them off, grasped my erect penis, and slowly moved towards my target… When the head of my penis touched soft, smooth skin, I almost cried out in excitement. I took a deep breath and slowly advanced. As my penis gradually disappeared into the crevice of her buttocks, the elastic skin and cool surface stimulated me so much that I almost ejaculated prematurely.

My penis was tightly gripped by my mother's buttocks. After enjoying it for a while, I was no longer satisfied with just that. I slowly moved my body downwards. According to the simulation in my mind, I had to move downwards, making my penis stand at a 45-degree angle, and then thrust forward.

After adjusting the angle, I took a deep breath and slowly thrust forward. As I advanced, the head of my penis touched a soft, warm spot. I wasn't sure if it was my mother's vagina, but I felt that place calling to me, urging me to enter.

Without hesitation, I began to push upwards. When the head of my penis entered an unusually warm place, my mother's buttocks clamped tightly around me, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't go any further. I was shocked—my mother knew!

I stopped moving, my mind racing, considering all the possibilities. My mother's buttocks remained tightly gripping my penis, showing no sign of loosening. I kept thinking, my mother is awake, which means she knows what I've done. Suddenly, a possibility occurred to me: I've entered the right place—not her anus, but my mother's vagina, the place where I was born. Otherwise, my mother wouldn't have reacted so strongly. Although I'd never tried anal sex, the slight wetness from the head of my penis told me the answer: vaginas always have lubrication.

That's why Mom stopped me, probably hoping I'd give up. Her silence showed she was also embarrassed and hesitant to speak, but she showed it through her actions. Would I give up? No, absolutely not. Giving up at this point would mean all my previous efforts were wasted. Most importantly, this was a one-time opportunity. If I gave it up, even if another chance came, Mom would be wary and wouldn't give me another chance. My mind raced. "This is a one-time opportunity," I thought to myself, "I can't give up like this."

Calming down, I immediately analyzed the situation. To move forward, I had to lift Mom's legs or push them upwards. I immediately rejected the former. If I timed it right, pushing Mom's legs open while simultaneously using my lower back, I could catch her off guard and succeed.

As I grabbed Mom's legs and pushed upwards, she realized my intention. Unfortunately, when she tried to stop me, she felt something like a red-hot iron rod deeply penetrate her body. Mom shuddered, her mouth opened wide but no sound came out, and her face turned as pale as paper. As I pushed my mother's legs apart, I thrust my hips forward, penetrating deeply into a place I had never experienced before. My first sensation was intense heat; my penis felt like it was being squeezed by a sponge, something soft constantly pressing against it, as if it were being drawn in by something, like circles enveloping it. I couldn't help but groan, my pubic bone pressed tightly against my mother's buttocks, my penis buried deep inside her body. I kept asking myself, "Is this my mother's vagina? Is this a woman's body?" It felt so good, so warm, so soft! Enjoying the warm massage of her vagina, I couldn't resist my primal urges. I grasped my mother's full thighs and began the most primal, the simplest movements, slowly wriggling.

With each withdrawal and insertion, the lust in my heart grew stronger and stronger, my whole body felt like it was on fire. With each withdrawal, I felt a coolness on the shaft, and with each thrust, a deep burning sensation traveled from the glans to my brain, an incomparably warm embrace enveloping my penis. My waist kept thrusting forward with force... With each thrust, my penis grew harder and harder, my body grew hotter and hotter, and a surge of urination rushed up my penis. I knew I was about to ejaculate, but I was unwilling to give up. I didn't want it to end so soon. I wanted to continue. I wished I could stay inside forever and never come out.

I desperately tried to hold back the urge to ejaculate. Just then, my mother suddenly spoke, her voice very soft, but I still heard it: "Don't ejaculate inside." I was already unable to hold back, and hearing my mother's words aroused me even more. I let out a low growl, pressed myself tightly against my mother's buttocks, and forcefully thrust my penis into the deepest part of her vagina. Streams of semen continuously poured out from my urethra. With the rhythm of ejaculation, my body convulsed and trembled... When everything fell silent, my softened penis slid out of my mother's vagina, and I lay on the bed, breathing heavily.

I slowly crawled back to my original position, feeling extremely remorseful for everything I had just done. I really didn't want this to affect our mother-son relationship. If my mother stopped talking to me in the future, I really didn't know what to do.

After a while, my mother got off the bed. From her back, it seemed she had squatted down. After a while, I heard a "rustling" sound. I felt something soft being stuffed into my hand. I touched it and it was toilet paper. I paused for a moment, holding the toilet paper, and then quickly wiped my softened penis.

Then I heard a "rustling" sound again. I thought Mom was wiping too. Strangely, why didn't she scold me? That would make me feel better. What was Mom thinking? A wave of fatigue washed over me, and with those questions lingering, I drifted off to sleep…
[The End]

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