My mother...

"Tap, tap, tap, tap..."

The sound of high heels clicking on the floor echoed through the school building corridor, crisp and loud. The sound grew closer, and my heart pounded faster. I knew that powerful footstep all too well.

A moment later, a stunningly beautiful woman in a black business suit entered the office. She had a delicate, fair oval face, long, black hair styled in a bun, slender, almond-shaped eyes with a slight upturn, willow-leaf eyebrows, a delicate nose, and bright, deep, sharp, radiant eyes—a mature woman's unique sensuality.

She carried a Prada bag, wore a fitted suit jacket with a deep V-neck revealing a white blouse, her waist slender, her breasts full and rounded; she wore a black straight skirt, flesh-colored stockings, and black stiletto heels, her hips shapely, her legs long and shapely, exuding the intelligence and competence of a professional woman.

Her name was Zheng Yiyun, and she was...my mother...my mother.

My mother, her face frosty, walked straight towards me after entering the room. Without a word, she swung her bag and hurled it at me, hitting me repeatedly on the head. I quickly ducked and raised my hands to block. My homeroom teacher rushed between us, pleading, "Ling Xiaodong's mom, Ling Xiaodong's mom, don't be angry, don't be angry..."

My mother reached over my teacher's shoulder and continued hitting my head with the bag. It didn't hurt, but it was frightening.

It seemed my mother was truly angry.

My mother is truly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in real life. Although she's nearly forty, she maintains a fantastic figure—curvaceous and voluptuous. No matter what she wears, her breasts always look full and round, especially noticeable when she's at home in her loungewear.

My mother has a classic wasp waist, thanks to regular exercise, unlike other middle-aged women whose figures have become out of shape and plump, almost as if they could be grasped with a single hand. Her buttocks were round and full, perky and sexy, full of flesh, wrapped in a tube skirt like a plump and juicy peach, yet without giving a bulky feeling.

Because of her work, my mother always wore suits, stockings, and high heels; she was truly, truly sexy. Although I was still in high school, I was a seasoned stocking fetishist. I often stole my mother's stockings for my girlfriend to wear, then pinned her down on the bed and fucked her hard. But strangely, no matter what she wore, what color or type of stockings, it just never felt the same on my mother.

Although I often secretly watched my mother, I didn't have an Oedipus complex; it was just the impulse of a healthy man, and the desire and pursuit of beautiful things. I had secretly taken my mother's stockings and used them to masturbate, but that was all; I never intended to do anything to her.

My mother's outburst just now really frightened me, but now that her anger had subsided, I was gradually drawn to her beautiful legs in black stockings under her gray business pencil skirt. Ever since I learned the internet slang term "hugging someone's leg," whenever I make a mistake, I kneel on the ground, pretending to joke or act cute, and cling tightly to my mother's stocking-clad legs.

Actually, I just want to take advantage of her. Sometimes, when things get lively, I'll even pretend to accidentally lift her skirt to peek at the beautiful view under her pantyhose. I know this is wrong, immoral, but I just can't control my desires because it's so exciting.

I've loved the feel of stockings since I was little, and after my sexual awareness awakened, I became even more obsessed with beautiful women wearing stockings. But I can't go out and touch other people's stockings, so I can only target my mother at home. After all, even if my mother notices something's wrong, she won't take me to the police station as a pervert; at most, she'll give me a beating. That price is acceptable compared to touching her stocking-clad legs.

And I suspect that my severe stocking fetish is related to my mother's love of wearing stockings. Because almost all my childhood memories have been erased, except for the image of my mother wearing various colored stockings, which is deeply etched in my mind. Whether it's true or not, I often use this reason to convince and comfort myself. Due to my mother's influence, I know a lot about stockings. For example, the black pantyhose my mother is wearing today are velvet stockings. They are slightly less transparent than crystal stockings, but they are more elastic, feel better, and are dense, delicate, soft, and smooth.

My mother let out a soft moan, and her previously erect upper body lay back down.

I felt as if my tight vaginal cavity was overflowing with honey-like fluid, as if I were soaking in a hot spring. I involuntarily increased the speed of my thrusting.

With each thrust, her small, fleshy feet, which were draped over my shoulders, would sway back and forth, and her full breasts under her dress would draw arcs.

My mother gripped the sheets with both hands, her breathing became more and more rapid, and low moans could be heard from her throat from time to time.

After my mother adjusted to the penis inside her, she raised her neck and said, "Xiao Dong, get up quickly, Mom really... really needs to pee."

I knew she wasn't lying; she had a habit of needing to pee when nervous.

But for some reason, the more she pleaded, the stronger my teasing became. I thrust in and out rapidly, repeatedly hitting her clitoris, and in the blink of an eye, I had thrust dozens of times.

My mother seemed unable to bear it, twisting her slender waist, her two delicate legs stretched straight across my shoulders, her proud breasts rippling under her dress, and the walls of her vagina clenched tightly.

"Xiao Dong, Xiao Dong, Mom... um... ah... really needs to pee, please get up... um... just for a moment, okay? Um... Mom... really needs to pee."

My mother's brows furrowed, and her voice even carried a hint of a sob, making my bones feel weak.

"Mom, do you need to pee?"

I asked while thrusting.

"Mmm...mmm..."

Mom held back for a moment, then blurted out, "Yes...Mom needs to pee, mmm...ah...hurry...get up...let Mom...let Mom go to the toilet."

For some reason, Mom's pleading sounded particularly arousing, and I thrust harder and harder, panting as I asked, "Then you promise, you'll let me fuck you again later."

"Mmm...you...ah..."

Mom glared at me, her face full of shame and indignation.

"If you promise, I'll let you go."

My penis thrust rapidly in and out of her vagina, thick, sweet juice spraying out like fruit juice, leaving her vagina sticky and viscous.

"Xiao Dong...get up...ah...Mom...Mom begs you, please?"

"You promise, you promise."

"Ah...mmm...ah...ah..."

Perhaps because she needed to pee, Mom didn't hold back like before, moaning and panting continuously.

Because it had been a long time since we'd had sex, I felt myself coming a little too quickly, but Mom still wouldn't give in, so I could only grit my teeth and persevere. I thrust forward, placing my hands on either side of Mom's chest, my slender, stockinged legs almost pressing against her ample breasts. My

penis pounded down like a pile driver, each thrust hitting the very core of her womb with reckless abandon.

"Ah... um... I can't take it anymore... Mom really... I'm a little anxious... um... get up quickly... I promise... ah... I promise..."

"Promise what?"

"I promise... ah... ah... I promise..."

Mom maintained her last bit of pride, refusing to say it aloud.

I felt I was at my limit, almost unable to hold on any longer, so I launched my final thrust, ready to fight to the death.

Mom's neck arched back, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. Perhaps the shame of leaking urine outweighed the shame of words; after enduring for a long time, Mom finally couldn't help but say, "Ah... Mom promises... I'll let you fuck me..."

As if struck by lightning, my entire body burned with heat, and the thrusting inside her intensified.

My mother was on the verge of tears: "I've promised...you...ah...come quickly...I...ah...let Mom...go...ah...ah~!"

With a long moan, a stream of hot liquid spurted from the small opening above her vagina, tracing a beautiful arc, and dripped all over me.

Mom had actually peed.

A chill ran down my spine; I felt the tender flesh of her vagina spasm, gripping my penis tightly. After a rapid series of thrusts, I couldn't hold back any longer. I pulled out my penis, pressed it against her plump, silky buttocks, and my thick, pungent semen gushed out.

[The End]

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