Two beds

There's a large double bed in my house, about thirty years old. According to my dad, it was the bed he bought when he and my mom got married. It was made of high-quality wood back then, sturdy and durable, but now it's a bit worn. Two years ago, I took out the mattress and had the whole bed repainted, sanding off the old, peeling paint and then applying two coats of pink to match the room's color scheme. My dad, a lover of old things, didn't approve. He spent five or six hundred thousand yuan on an antique camphor wood bed, claiming it was from the Qing Dynasty, saying sleeping on it felt like stepping back in time, yet he firmly opposed me getting a new bed. This was a bit unreasonable, so between throwing it away and repainting it, my dad finally let me get a new pink paint job.

Uh, pink—it's not my fault, my wife loves pink. Our entire room is pink: pink walls, pink curtains, and a pink bed. Although the bed had been repainted, it was still quite old, and it would creak every time my wife and I made love on it. But I actually liked the sound; it made me feel like I was very vigorous, giving me extra energy.

Sometimes my dad, who lived downstairs, would complain, "Mom, take it easy! I hear that bed creaking all night. Have some consideration for this lonely old man!" At that point,

I would always laugh and say, "I inherited that from you. If I don't exert myself, how will I give you a grandson to hold?" Then I'd add, "My second son's strength is inherited from you." At this point, my father and I would look at each other and burst into laughter.

We live in a three-story house that we built ourselves. When I was a child, it was an old bungalow by the roadside. Later, when we had money, my father renovated it into a three-story house. The first floor was used as a garage, kitchen, and dining room. My father, who lived alone, lived on the second floor, and my wife and I lived on the third floor. Of course, it was a bit empty with only three people living in a house of about 80 square meters. A little over a year ago, my sister-in-law was admitted to a university near our home. After discussing it with my wife, we decided to give her a room on the third floor. However, my wife probably never imagined that her sister would sleep with me. Moreover, we often made that 30-year-old bed creak. Otherwise, she wouldn't have let her sister live on the same floor as us.

Honestly, my wife and her sister are both good-looking. Both sisters are tall and slender, and both have long hair. My wife is a bit shorter than her sister, but her breasts are much bigger. However, bigger breasts inevitably mean they're a bit looser. Her sister, though a size smaller, has very firm and bouncy breasts. Each has its own advantages. Besides, my sister-in-law, being younger, likes to dance. Her slender waist is truly breathtaking when she shakes it; it looks like she's going to break my penis. Although I'm incredibly strong and have a big, durable penis, sometimes after a long day at get off work, I have to rush to have sex with my sister-in-law before my wife gets home. Dealing with two sisters at the same time can be a bit overwhelming sometimes.

If you ask me how I'm so lucky to have gotten together with two beautiful sisters, I'll tell you, "It's all fate." Or, to paraphrase that line from the movie *The God of Cookery*, "These things are all about talent."

Actually, it's all my wife's fault. Which industry is better? Why did she have to work for a travel agency? She's so competitive and often works late or leads tours abroad, leaving home unattended. And her sister is just so beautiful. I'm not some saint, so getting together with her pretty younger sister isn't entirely my fault; you could even say it's her sister's fault. I just happened to be in that place, and I just happened to have a hard-on.

This happened last summer. It was a very hot day. I went to a strip karaoke bar with clients until after 11 pm, had a few drinks, and when I got home, I opened the door to find her younger sister on the sofa, wearing only a thin t-shirt and shorts, asleep watching TV in the living room. I forgot my wife was on a tour that day and for a moment thought it was my wife lying there trying to seduce me. Besides, with her long, slender, fair legs curled up on the sofa, and her breasts exposed under her thin t-shirt without a bra, even if I recognized her as my sister-in-law and not my wife, I don't think this would have been impossible.

I don't remember the initial situation very clearly, but according to my sister-in-law, she went out with friends that night, drank some alcohol, took a shower when she got home, threw her clothes in the washing machine, and watched TV in the living room. Unexpectedly, she fell asleep while watching TV, which is why she was dressed like that. When I first started groping her, she thought she was having a wet dream. When she woke up, I had already stripped her down below the waist, pulled up her t-shirt, and her nipples were being played with by my tongue. To make matters worse, I had already spread her legs, and my hot glans had parted her soft pubic hair, pushing open her pink flesh, ready to plunge into her wet and secret place.

My sister-in-law insists that she cried out, "Brother-in-law, no!" or something similar, but I have no memory of it. Who knows if she's just making it up? All I remember is her long, slender legs tightly wrapped around my waist, which I'd developed from years of swimming, her nails digging into my back muscles, her beautiful hair cascading over my leather sofa, as she cried out, "I'm coming... Ahhh... No more... No more... You're so strong... Help... I'm going to die..."

I'm sure I recognized her as my sister-in-law, not my wife, because my wife is always quiet in bed. Although she might wrap her legs around my waist and hold me tightly, and her vaginal walls might contract and grip my hot penis, she would never cry out so wildly, nor would she thrust her hips so violently, letting her mons pubis slam against me.

Although I had already recognized that she wasn't my wife, my sister-in-law certainly knew even better that this wasn't a dream. However, under the circumstances, we simply couldn't stop. I admit I had never experienced such exciting sex before, and I think my sister-in-law had too. I pulled her fair and tender legs onto the back of the sofa, clearly seeing my large penis bulging with veins, thrusting again and again into my sister-in-law's juicy, tender vagina. The pink labia moved in and out with my movements, and the thick, white fluid that gushed out with our actions seemed to bloom like flowers on her soft pubic hair.

Under my relentless assault, my sister-in-law could no longer scream. The only sounds in the small living room were my heavy breathing and my sister-in-law's plaintive cries, combined with the "slap slap" of muscles colliding and the "plop" of my penis thrusting in and out of her juicy vagina, creating a symphony of sexual passion.

I don't know how many times I brought my sister-in-law to orgasm, but then I buried my glans deep inside her hot womb, spraying copious amounts of semen onto her trembling uterine walls. She let out a long, soft cry, her body and vagina convulsing uncontrollably, clinging tightly to me. My penis, inside her, seemed to have been deprived of a woman for ten years, throbbing and ejaculating large amounts of semen.

As our breathing gradually calmed, the alcohol in my brain had been burned away by the passion, but my penis was still inside my sister-in-law's warm, tight vagina. Her elastic young breasts were pressed tightly against my chest, and her fragrant breath sprayed directly onto my neck. I looked down to look at her, but she buried her head tightly against me.

"Was it good?" I asked her.

"Mmm." She didn't speak. I tried to pull away from her, but she held me tightly.

For a long time, we didn't speak, just held each other tightly. I didn't know what she was thinking, but my mind was blank. I slept with my wife's sister, that was wrong, even if I had drunk some alcohol, it was still wrong. But... but... this feeling was fucking amazing. Since I was nineteen and had my first time with my then-girlfriend, I'd been with many women, including prostitutes, but I'd never felt this good. I think my little brother probably felt the same way, because inside her, that troublesome penis was getting hard again.

My sister-in-law immediately noticed this too; after all, there's a difference between a hot, hard penis and a soft, listless one. This time, she tried to separate our tightly pressed bodies. She twisted her body, but I held her down tightly, not letting her go.

"No, please," my sister-in-law whispered, her voice thick with a nasal tone. "Get up, don't press down on me." Uh, I admit I had a little pang of conscience after my first time, but now, with my throbbing penis inside my sister-in-law's tender vagina, I could clearly feel its tightness and warmth. In this situation, my meager conscience had long since vanished, so I didn't reply, but instead hugged her even tighter.

"You're bullying me, I'll tell my sister, you scumbag, get away..." my sister-in-law shouted, raising her voice.

As she spoke, she tried to break free from my hold, her slender body twisting and turning beneath me, trying to roll over, her soft little hands pressing against my shoulders as she tried to push me away. But this wasn't an effective move, not only because of the difference in strength between us, but also because her swollen mons pubis was constantly slamming against my genitals with each movement. My burning glans was rubbing and bumping against her clitoris, while her breasts were massaging my chest like a Thai massage.

Clearly, my aunt realized this wasn't working. She stopped struggling, panting, and her body temperature, which had cooled slightly, seemed to rise again. I looked down at her flushed face and bright eyes glistening with tearful tears; everything about her revealed a pitiful, wronged expression, truly heartbreaking. Damn it, her older sister always does this, and I just can't resist it.

"Brother-in-law, we can't do this. Get up, okay?" My aunt seemed to sense my softening and changed to pleading, her voice so soft and her tone so earnest that it was impossible to refuse.

"This…" I hesitated, but my aunt's voice brought my last shred of conscience back.

"Get up, I won't tell my sister, let's pretend this never happened, okay, brother-in-law?" My aunt continued to intensify her pitiful, girlish pleading. Looking at her pleading face and listening to her nasal pleas, I hesitated even more.

"Okay, you can't tell your sister, okay? I was drunk just now, that's why I did that. I didn't mean to, it's just that you were dressed so provocatively." I admitted I couldn't resist this kind of attack, especially since it was indeed my fault.

"Okay, it's a deal, I won't tell my sister," my aunt said.

"Hmm, really?" I asked again. Honestly, I really didn't want to pull my penis out of her body; the feeling was just too good. I couldn't help but start moving again, the glans rubbing against her warm, tight flesh.

"Really?" My aunt nodded, nudging me. "Get up, don't keep moving around, hey... don't move around, ah... ah."

Hearing my aunt's alluring moans, I couldn't resist. My penis, once it started moving, didn't want to stop. Not doing it now would be a betrayal of myself, but doing it would be a betrayal of my wife. But my wife wasn't there; instead, it was her beautiful little sister. So, while moving, I said to my aunt, "I'm sorry, little sister, I just can't resist. Look how hard I am."

"No... brother-in-law... I can't betray my sister... hey... get up... ah..." My aunt pounded my shoulder, but her voice didn't sound like a rejection. Hmm... when I was so horny, she probably wouldn't have noticed.

"Just once more... that's enough... I won't do it again." I thrust my large penis deep into my aunt's body with all my might, until she was weak all over. She even spread her tightly closed, plump legs, and my pubic bone slammed solidly against her full, protruding mons pubis, my glans fiercely pounding against her clitoris.

"Ah... brother-in-law... you... ah... no... ah... ah... no... no... so good... so good... so good... stop... stop for a moment... oh..." My aunt started moaning again under my fierce onslaught. I really didn't understand how my aunt, who was only twenty years old, could moan so well, completely different from her older sister.

Amidst my aunt's moans, we engaged in passionate intercourse. The barriers of propriety that had separated us were shattered by my penis, and neither of us could resist the eruption of lust.

This time, unlike before when I was slightly drunk and only focused on thrusting wildly, seeing that my aunt had given up resisting, I stopped pressing down on her and turned her body ninety degrees. Her upper body was on the sofa, and I pulled her legs up to her chest, folding her body in half. I placed my knees on the edge of the sofa, allowing my waist to move freely, and my aunt cooperated with me in changing positions. During these changes, she tightly wrapped her legs around my waist, ensuring that my penis never slipped out—a skill that her older sister couldn't achieve.

After positioning myself, I began alternating between deep and shallow thrusts, watching my aunt's perfectly proportioned calves extend straight down to her full, smooth thighs, above which lay her round, white buttocks. Her supple waist, bent at a 90-degree angle, showed no excess fat. Her firm, white breasts bore two pink nipples. Looking down, I saw her pink, tender labia, glistening with lustful moisture. Between them, my engorged, throbbing penis was thrusting in and out of her labia.

"How is it? Is it good?" I teased.

"So...so good...it feels amazing," my aunt moaned in response.

"Is my penis big?" I continued.

"Big...big..." my aunt said.

"Not enough..." I said unsatisfied, gripping the back of the chair and slamming into her hard.

"Ah...so big...oh...faster...faster...ah ah...extra-large...ah...die...I'm going to die...this big cock is fucking me...fucking me to death...ah...faster...ah...I'm dying...oh oh ah!" Under this onslaught, my aunt's voice rose as she cried out, and soon she reached another climax. The walls of her vagina sucked and released my glans, making my whole body feel numb with pleasure.

"You slut...be more lewd..." I cursed, ignoring her pleas for mercy, my big cock pounding against my aunt's clitoris, preparing to bring her to multiple orgasms.

"I...oh...big meat stick...fuck...fuck my sister to death...I can't take it anymore...ah...so good...so good...I'm dying...ah...so deep...my sister is going to break...ah!" Auntie cried out loudly in a lustful voice.

"Wh...what sister, it's your vagina, you know what a vagina is, right?" I said.

"It's...oh...it's a super...super big meat stick...poke...poke it to burst...oh...my...vaginal...I...oh oh ah..." Auntie obediently cried out in a lustful voice, her beautiful eyes half-open and half-closed, her face as if in a daze, looking blank, clearly on the verge of orgasm.

Her climax seemed even more intense this time; the contractions of her vagina were stronger, her fair face flushed like cherry blossoms in spring, and she writhed wildly, her slender fingers gripping my broad shoulders tightly. I had no choice but to lower her legs, hold her tightly, and stop thrusting. My glans pressed deeply against her clitoris, savoring every throbbing of her beautiful opening. Her smooth legs now wrapped tightly around my waist, her mons pubis rubbing against my genitals. Her moist, supple vagina gripped my penis, her clitoris opening and closing, biting at my glans. It was so beautiful I almost ejaculated, so I desperately contracted my groin muscles, forcing back my budding semen.

After a while, my aunt's heaving breasts finally calmed down, and she gently stroked my back with both hands. I figured I'd done a pretty good job, but then suddenly a sharp pain shot through my lower back. This woman had pinched a small piece of my flesh with her nails, twisted it, and ripped a chunk of flesh off my waist.

"Damn it!" I was about to swear, but seeing my aunt's tear-streaked face, I swallowed the words. Damn it, I just can't stand seeing women cry.

"You...you're so mean. Again...again..." This time, my aunt really cried. Damn it, women are so weird. Just a moment ago she was calling me "dear brother," "good husband," and "big dick," and now she's playing the innocent, virginal trick on me.

"Don't cry, it's...it's my fault, I'm bad, I deserve to die, it's all because of my mom's lust, she forgets everything when she sees my pretty sister..." I slapped myself a few times, inwardly cursing, "Screw you, trying to pull this on? Can't I play innocent? Do you think I've never been a little girl? How I tricked your sister back then, I'll trick you now." But the slaps stung my face, so painful. Damn, I haven't practiced in years, I don't know my own strength.

Maybe I was bold enough, the slaps were hard enough, because my aunt froze, though tears still clung to her face, at least she stopped sobbing. "Don't be like this, I didn't mean to blame you," my aunt said softly. "Actually, I was wrong too, I...you...I just didn't have the strength." As she spoke, my aunt blushed, burying her head in my chest, revealing her sweat-drenched, snow-white neck.

I tightened my arms around her, and she flinched, but offered no resistance. "But I'm still very strong," I teased in her ear, my still-erect penis throbbing inside her again.

"You're so naughty!" my aunt said, her voice devoid of any nasal tone.

"Is it good or bad?" I pressed.

"You won't listen when I say it's bad," my aunt said, pausing before adding, "Could we not be on the sofa? It's uncomfortable."

"Okay, let's go to the room then," I said, preparing to get up, but my aunt grabbed me.

"Don't come out," she said, her long legs wrapping around me again.

"Oh, how do I do it?" Moving from the living room to the bed without pulling out was going to be difficult.

"Think for yourself, if you can't figure it out, then don't bother," she said, blinking as if she already knew the answer.

"Tch, this little thing is no problem for me, I'm just afraid you won't cooperate," I said, placing my hands behind her knees. "Hold on tight!" I said.

My aunt hugged my neck tightly, and I slowly stood up. I'd been at it for a while, and my legs were almost too weak to stand. Luckily, I still go to the gym every week, so I didn't embarrass myself; I could still lift a woman weighing over 40 kilograms. My aunt clung to me, and the fluids from our joined bodies slowly trickled down my thighs.

"Brother-in-law is so strong," my aunt said, pressing her lips to my earlobe and licking it.

"Get lost," I said irritably. "Why do you eat so much? You're heavy." I endured the itch as I slowly walked into the room.

Once I reached the bed, I gently placed my aunt on the edge and began my assault. I pulled my thick, long penis all the way in and then thrust it in completely. My aunt also moved her slender waist vigorously to match my thrusts, creating loud clattering sounds. Even the old bed creaked and groaned along with our movements and moans. Under such intense intercourse, my whole body heated up, and beads of sweat appeared on my forehead. "I...I can't hold back...you...you hurry...hurry up..." My aunt held my head, moaning and groaning, struggling to hold back her climax, preparing to reach our peak at the same time.

"I...almost there...just bear with it a little longer," I replied breathlessly. Her beautiful vagina began to contract again, and I vigorously thrust my penis in and out of her vagina, each thrust going all the way in, each one slamming into her clitoris.

"Oh...I...really...ah..." Before she could finish speaking, my aunt suddenly grabbed me, the soft muscles in her vagina now gripping my penis like iron clamps, her cervix spasming and contracting, hot vaginal fluid spraying copiously onto my glans, making me see stars, my scalp tingle, and my legs tremble. I thrust in twice more, slamming my hot, swollen glans into my aunt's fiery uterus.

My aunt and I let out a cry of ecstasy as thick semen erupted from the tip of my penis. Countless sperm slammed against the walls of her uterus. She convulsed beneath me, her vagina gripping my shaft tightly as if trying to squeeze me dry, until the last drop of semen was released.

Holding her sweaty body, we were both too exhausted to move. Our breaths, released after the frenzy, brushed against each other's faces. My aunt smiled faintly, and I smiled too. Reaching climax simultaneously after intense intercourse was the ultimate pleasure. Neither of us wanted to separate, so we slept together, one after the other.

From that day on, my aunt became my concubine. Whenever my wife wasn't home, she would sleep in my room. Ironically, before my wife led a tour group abroad, she would always instruct her younger sister to keep a close eye on me. Ha... My wife's absence is what motivates me to come home early.

Speaking of which, it's 4:30 PM now. My wife is leading a delegation to the US today, and the county magistrate is in the north for a meeting, so as a civil servant, I naturally left work early to go home. I spoke with my sister-in-law on the phone at noon; she didn't have classes this afternoon, so I imagine she's at home taking a shower, applying perfume, and getting ready, waiting for me to come home so we

can get to work. My wife has always dreamed of having an eight-legged bed like her mother's when she gets married. However, when we got married over thirty years ago, nobody made such things. So my dad asked my uncle, a furniture maker, to make a bed. Although my uncle spared no expense, it still wasn't the eight-legged bridal bed my wife had always wanted, but it was still a luxury item for its time. It was made of top-quality Taiwanese camphor wood, and the legs were carved. In those days when everyone was poor, it was a super high-end item.

For decades, my wife never forgot the eight-legged bed in her mother's room. But by the time we could afford a Qing Dynasty rosewood eight-legged carved bridal bed, my wife was already gone. So I often lie on that antique bed thinking of her, remembering how she suffered with me, only to die before she could hold her grandchild. I can't help but sigh. Besides lamenting her early death, I also lament becoming a lonely old woman, with no one to talk to at night.

Since my wife passed away a few years ago, I haven't had much of a sex life. At first, friends would invite me to teahouses to relax with some prostitutes, but one time the police chief invited me for tea, saying they were ordered to crack down on prostitution. He said I had served as a village head for over ten years, had a good image, and my son worked for the county government, so he told me to go less often to avoid being arrested and hurting my feelings. After hearing this, I felt too embarrassed to go anymore.

Later, some people advised me to go to the mainland and find a young woman to be my companion. But I saw my elementary school classmate, Wu Sang, whose family was in chaos because he married a young woman in her early twenties from the mainland.

The neighbors would point and whisper about him when he took her out, saying things like, "An old cow eating young grass," "His wife is younger than his daughter," "Shameless,"

and "Perverted old man." I figured it was better not to. But every time I went to Wu Sang's house and saw his young wife, I couldn't help but feel a little envious. But envy aside, I didn't have the nerve to follow his example.

So, ever since my son married a beautiful woman two years ago, listening to the creaking of that old bed upstairs at night has become my greatest pleasure. I often listen to that sound and fantasize about having sex with a beautiful woman on my own old pearwood eight-legged bed from the Qing Dynasty.

Yes, I admit, sometimes I imagine the beautiful woman lying on that antique bed is my wife, but I often fantasize about female celebrities and famous women. Like that former female minister with fluent English that the news is talking about right now—I've fantasized about her several times.

So when my son said he wanted to change the bed a while ago, I was firmly against it. Just kidding, I'm a lone bird without a nest now; not having a nest is bad enough, but not even being able to hear the birds chirping upstairs is even worse.

"Creak, creak," damn it, the creaking sound from upstairs is coming again. I looked at the clock; it's not even eight o'clock yet. Typical son of mine, always getting excited.

I smiled and continued watching TV. Huh? Wait a minute, didn't my wife, who works at a travel agency, say she was leading a tour group to America today? Damn, what's my son doing now? I thought for a moment—my son brought a woman home? Impossible, my wife's sister lives upstairs, and she came home around four o'clock today; she shouldn't have gone out.

So, could it be my son and my wife's sister?!

How could this be? How could my son betray my beautiful and considerate wife? Every time she goes abroad, she brings me gifts. She's beautiful, has big breasts, and often dresses very lightly in the summer, letting her father-in-law eat ice cream. This is unacceptable! My son's actions are too much. As her father, I must uphold justice and not treat her like this.

I opened the door, intending to go to the third floor, but stopped at the top of the stairs. No, this isn't right. Making a scene like this is bad for everyone. It will be a huge loss of face for both families. And even if I went in and caught him in the act, what would I say? That woman might be my wife's sister, not some random woman. I can't ignore her reputation.

But if I just ignore it, my wife and in-laws will find out sooner or later. That's not good either. I must resolve this quietly before my wife finds out.

But how can I resolve this? I went back to my room and racked my brains. Upstairs, the bed kept creaking and groaning. Damn it, that brat was still having fun over there. He'd slept with two pretty girls! Imagining my son on that bed with my wife's sister made my mouth dry, and my penis even got hard. My mind was completely blank.

Just then, the news broadcast a story about a guy in central Taiwan who caught his wife drugging his coffee with a hidden camera. Hmm…that's a good idea. I'll get the evidence first.

So I found a surveillance equipment company and told them I suspected my son and daughter-in-law were plotting against me and asked them to install surveillance equipment. I figured they wouldn't care what I did with it anyway, since it was in my house.

So, during the day when no one was on the third floor, I asked them to install hidden cameras in the TVs in the living room and bedroom, and run the cables to the recording equipment in my room on the second floor.

The installers carefully taught me how to switch cameras, zoom in and out, adjust the volume, and record.

The night after I finished setting up the equipment, I found the evidence. My son and his wife's sister were acting like a married couple while my wife was away. They were not only naked and cuddling in bed watching TV, but they were also kissing non-stop in the living room. They even had sex with the lights on at night. My wife's sister is such a slut. As I watched the live broadcast of their passionate encounter on TV, I could hear the creaking sounds coming from upstairs, and I couldn't help but unzip my pants and start masturbating.

Seeing my son and his aunt having such a heated battle on the screen, my hand was also quickly rubbing my penis. With low moans, my hands were already covered in sticky semen. That's when I realized I forgot to press the record button. Oh well, my wife isn't going back to the country tomorrow anyway, so I guess these two illicit lovers will continue their battle tomorrow. I'll just wait until tomorrow.

So I had to go to the bathroom to shower, hoping to calm down. But as I showered, all I could think about was my son having sex with his aunt. Damn it, it's been so long since I've had sex with a woman. Tonight, I'm probably going to be a lonely bird without a nest again. It's truly a case of "Hey, hey... a little bird cries for help, cries until the middle of the night, looking for a nest without one..." That old song popped into my head. Damn it! My son has plenty to do, but his father doesn't. Sigh, old age is useless.

After showering, I slowly walked back to my room wearing only my underwear, my crotch still bulging. Sigh, it's rare for my old brother to be so energetic, but as his older brother, I'm quite helpless.

"You, you're back!!!"

I said in surprise.

"Something happened in America. I led a tour group and came back early,"

my wife said weakly, sitting on my antique bed.

I turned my head and saw that the TV in the room was still on, continuously broadcasting my son and his aunt's live sex show upstairs.

The bed upstairs was still making obscene creaking noises.

My obedient wife was sitting alone on the edge of my bed, head down, sobbing softly.

This was really bad; I had to turn off the TV immediately. But in this emergency, the remote control was nowhere to be found. I looked left and right but couldn't find it. I had no choice but to block the TV screen with my body.

But the rickety bed upstairs kept making noise. Damn it, I should have let my son replace that bed in the first place.

"You, you..."

I stood blocking the TV, looking at my wife sitting on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to say. I was anxious, but my mind was blank.

I saw my wife sitting on the edge of the bed, head down, sobbing, her shoulders trembling slightly. She was still wearing her suit and well-fitting trousers, and her short-heeled high heels were lying next to my pillow.

"You...you saw it?" I asked.

My wife nodded, without looking up, and said, "I just got home, wanting to surprise him, but who knew they were doing this in my room..."

She started crying as she spoke, her frail body trembling.

"Didn't they see you?" I asked.

My wife shook her head, her once beautiful long hair now appearing unusually weak and swaying.

It really broke my heart to see this. I sat down on the edge of the bed, put my hand on my wife's shoulder, and said, "My dear wife, don't cry. Dad will get justice for you. It's all my fault

for not raising our son properly. I'll go upstairs and teach them a lesson. Don't cry, be good." Just as I was about to get up, my wife immediately reached out to stop me. But she kept her head down, didn't even look at me, and reached out to press me down. She pressed down on my penis, which had been hard just moments before, and with that force, it really... a little... painful.

My wife immediately noticed something was wrong, looked up at me, and a blush of embarrassment flashed across her tear-streaked face before she immediately lowered her head again.

I endured the pain, but dared not say anything, and gritted my teeth as I sat back down. "...No, Dad... If we make a scene now, the whole neighborhood will know. Let's talk about it tomorrow," my wife said.

"You're still trying to save face for them,"

I said angrily, though I was in the right, my voice lacked strength.

“It’s not about saving face for them, Dad. It’s about letting Mom know. How am I supposed to explain this to her? She always told me to take care of my sister, but who knew…”

My wife cried as she explained to me, her father-in-law. “Besides, if this gets out, everyone will lose face. They may not care about their reputation, but I do, and you, Dad, also have yours.”

“Yes, it’s good that you’re so thoughtful.”

I sighed. My wife’s understanding made me feel even more sorry for her. “That’s what I was thinking too, which is why I found someone to record this for my son to see, to advise him to know his limits. With such a good wife like you, how could he do such a thing?”

But when my wife heard this, she cried even harder, and she even had trouble breathing. I patted her shoulder tenderly and said, “Don’t cry, don’t cry. My son may have done something wrong, but I, as his father, only recognize you as my wife. Don’t cry, be good.”

At this moment, my wife turned around and leaned on my shoulder, crying. Warm tears seeped through her fingers and onto my shoulder. It was truly heartbreaking.

In all my decades of life, I've never had a woman cry on my shoulder before, and I felt utterly at a loss.

My wife and I were married through an arranged marriage, and although our relationship has been good, we've never followed that tradition. I didn't know how to react, and seeing my wife crying so hard, I put my arm around her shoulder, letting her tears flow down my shoulder. At that moment, I suddenly felt a surge of unease, and I don't know why, but I just felt that I wanted to make my wife feel better, but I couldn't do anything about it, I was powerless to help.

After crying for a while, my wife gradually stopped. She lowered her head, pushed me away, and said, "Dad, I'll stay in a hotel for now and come back tomorrow."

"Are you alright? It's so late. Is it convenient for a woman like you to stay in a hotel?" I asked.

"It's not inconvenient at all," my wife said. She looked up, brushed her hair aside, and said,

"With money, you can stay anywhere. What's there to be afraid of?"

As she said this, her eyes were red and her cheeks were streaked with tears. It made my heart ache. I wanted to tell her not to stay in a hotel; there were two empty rooms on this floor. But I didn't know how to bring it up.

Just as I was thinking of what to say, I noticed my wife's eyes suddenly become serious. Her almond-shaped eyes stared straight behind me. I turned around and saw the live broadcast showing the couple upstairs making love in bed. They were doing 69.

"What's wrong?"

I asked my wife. Her expression was a little scary, her expression constantly changing. Her eyebrows would sometimes furrow, sometimes furrow. I nudged her, but she was like a wooden statue.

I figured it must be because the TV was still on, so I got up to find the remote.

I had just stood up when my wife hugged me from behind

. "Hug me," she said.

"What are you doing? I'm your father-in-law, don't do this,"

I said, turning around. Her body was pressed against my back, and I could clearly feel the pressure of her breasts. Her warm hands slowly slid down my chest, and her warm lips breathed a fragrant scent into my ear.

Damn it, I'm going to go crazy if this keeps up.

My wife didn't answer me. She slowly rubbed my body, her hands slipping inside my underwear, touching my penis. The warm touch of her young fingers made my penis throb as if it had been electrocuted.

"No, I can't help myself,"

I said weakly, but my wife ignored me completely. Her hot tongue slowly slid down my spine, teasing my tailbone, while her hands pulled my loose boxer shorts down to my ankles.

"Ugh... Good wife, stop it!"

My patience was almost at its limit. I looked down and saw my wife's fair, jade-like hands holding my black penis. A clear liquid oozed from the tip, glistening in the light.

Her white hands were stroking my penis and massaging my scrotum, making every pore on my body tense, my heart pounding wildly as if it would burst.

"Damn! I told you to stop, oh..."

My wife's tongue swept across my buttocks, then slowly moved to my front. I saw her long eyelashes trembling, seemingly still glistening with tears from earlier. She looked up at me, but there was no desire in her eyes. Looking into her pupils, I felt a little afraid of her stare. There were emotions in those pupils that I didn't understand; I didn't know what they were.

My wife brushed her hair aside, opened her rosy lips, and took my glans into her mouth.

"Oh...oh..."

I groaned. I hadn't felt this way in a long time. My wife knelt in front of me, giving me a blowjob. She first licked the glans with her tongue, then licked up from the scrotum, her tongue sweeping under my urethra, making me tremble with pleasure. She repeated this action several times, then suddenly took my entire penis into her mouth, my glans reaching deep into her throat.

"Ugh!"

My wife immediately spat out my penis and coughed.

"What's wrong? Don't force yourself,"

I said. She actually wanted to swallow my whole big cock; no wonder she choked.

"No, it's okay,"

my wife looked up at me, her eyes still so deep.

"So big,"

she said.

But after saying that, she slowly swallowed my penis again, this time only a third of it, while she used her soft little hands to hold and stroke the other two-thirds. She moved her mouth and hands at the same time, quickly increasing my pleasure.

"So good, oh... oh..."

This feeling is amazing. I closed my eyes, enjoying the stimulation from my wife's hands and mouth. I was so happy that I could hardly stand up, so I had to lean against the bedpost of the eight-legged bed.

After a while, my wife slowly spat out my penis. My copper-colored penis was covered with her saliva. She looked up at me. Logically speaking, this was a very provocative action, but I couldn't see a trace of provocative charm in her deep eyes. My wife slowly stood up and began to take off her clothes. I watched her fair and slender fingers unbutton her shirt, one button after another, until the beige shirt fell to her feet. My wife was only wearing a light yellow bra. My God, her snow-white and smooth skin was almost blinding.

She took off her top, glanced at me again, and I turned my head away, not daring to look at her. I only heard my wife let out a very soft sigh, followed by the sound of her long skirt hitting the ground.

I couldn't help but glance over out of the corner of my eye. Although I had seen those shapely long legs before, and had fantasized about them, at this moment there was nothing there except for a pair of matching panties.

I swallowed hard; my penis was already at its limit, trembling with my wildly beating heart.

"Look at me,"

my wife commanded. I had no choice but to turn my head back, just in time to see her alluring lips curl into a smile. Then she walked towards me, took my hand, and placed it on the edge of her D-cup breasts. I suddenly felt as if I had been electrocuted. Her body was warm, and her soft breasts were full of elasticity.

My hand stopped on those half-exposed breasts, unable to move.

I looked at my wife, and she looked at me. God, her eyes, filled with sorrow yet also determination, made me lose all control. A thought I'd never felt before surged within me: I wanted her, I wanted this woman before me. I could give up everything else, but I had to have this woman. I didn't care if she was my wife or someone else, I didn't care if I went to hell or whatever. Damn it, I was determined to have this woman.

But even though my heart yearned for her cries countless times, I couldn't bring myself to move.

Suddenly, my wife's warm, delicate body threw herself into my arms. We fell onto the old bed. She frantically pulled off her bra and panties. Guided by her fingers, my glans aimed at her soft, pink vulva, feeling the warmth of her labia, but there was no moisture at all. My wife gritted her teeth and, in one breath, slammed her raised buttocks all the way down. With the weight of her body and the lubrication of her saliva, my penis pierced her dry vagina in one go, penetrating directly into her uterus.

"Eek..."

My wife groaned in pain as she lay on top of me; it must have been very painful. Her beautiful eyebrows were furrowed, and her teeth were clenched beneath her tightly pressed lips.

"Don't...don't push yourself too hard,"

I said, stroking her hair.

"My thing is big; it'll hurt you like this."

"It's supposed to hurt,"

my wife said with a forced smile. She twisted her slender waist and lifted her body, shaking her hair at the same time

. "You're not comfortable like this," I said. "Don't move."

"Mind your own business,"

my wife said, slightly angry. She gritted her teeth, her face full of stubbornness, and began to move up and down on my body. The tight, dry walls of her vagina rubbed against my thick penis; the feeling of that tightness was like my first time with my wife decades ago.

"You can't do this,"

I said, reaching out to hold her tightly, preventing her from moving any further. She struggled in my arms for a while before stopping.

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

I asked her softly.

She turned her face away, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Don't cry, don't cry, sweetie, it's not your fault, why are you crying?"

I hugged my wife, gently stroking her smooth back, my throbbing penis remaining inside her dry yet warm body.

While she was crying, I separated our bodies. I didn't like women having sex with me through dry, tight vaginas; the feeling of pulling out was like pulling a stick out of a sand dune.

My wife noticed this movement. She looked up, her swollen eyes no longer holding the mysterious depth and determination they had just held. Her tears continued to flow, her nose red and tingling with sobs. We looked at each other for a while, then she slowly rested her head against my chest. I watched her black hair fall in front of me.

"Dad, thank you," my wife said.

"What are you saying? I'm not the kind of person who takes advantage of others in their vulnerable state,"

I said proudly, but many questions lingered in my mind. Was my hesitation really because she was my wife? Or was it that I didn't want to be an accomplice in her self-harm? Or was it that I didn't want to make love to the woman I loved under these circumstances? I didn't know at all, and I didn't want to know; there were too many taboos involved.

After a long time, I noticed my wife's body was getting heavier and heavier. I nudged her, but found she had already fallen asleep. I gently moved her to the pillow beside me. Her face was still streaked with tears, and her beautiful, flawless body made my penis stand erect.

I propped my head up with my hand, lying on the bed, looking at my wife's naked body again and again from head to toe: her full breasts, her slender waist without any excess fat, her firm buttocks, her long calves, and the dark forest between her snow-white thighs—the place where I had just deeply penetrated.

I sighed, slowly got out of bed, and the TV screen still showed my son's bed, with messy bedding and two naked bodies entwined in sleep. The woman who should be on screen was lying on my bed. Damn it, I glanced back at my wife's beautiful naked body, then looked down at my rock-hard penis, sighed again, threw on a short-sleeved shirt, and went to the living room to smoke.

On the coffee table was the remote control I'd been looking for. Damn it, how could it be here?

I smoked, my mind filled with my wife's snow-white naked body and the feeling of being inside her just now. Damn it, what was I thinking? I pushed away what I had in my grasp.

Why worry about it? I should fuck her, fuck her like my son fucks his sister. I stubbed out my cigarette and started masturbating again, my mind filled with images of me and my daughter-in-law making love, the warmth of her body, her warm, wet vagina, the hot breath from her red lips, the feeling of my hot semen filling her womb.

"Oh..."

I collapsed onto the sofa, my glans throbbing as it ejaculated a large amount of semen, leaving my hands, thighs, and the sofa sticky.

Even so, the images that kept flashing through my mind lingered.

I smoked another cigarette, cleaned myself up, and returned to the room. I quietly lay down next to my wife. She didn't open her eyes, but moved closer and buried her head in my arms.

The next morning, when I woke up, my wife was gone from my arms. I got up and walked around the second floor, but there was no sign of her. I went back to the room and stared blankly at my old Qing Dynasty bed. She was gone; last night felt like a dream.

I lay back down on the bed, the delicate fragrance of her body still lingering on my pillow. I shook the covers, and a long strand of black hair slowly fell down. In the morning sunlight, the hair shimmered like an angel's feather. I stared at that strand of hair until it settled on the covers.

From a young age, I've always dreamed of having my own bed, a big bed where I could stretch out and roll around.

It might seem strange, but it's true. Some women like designer handbags, some like traveling abroad, some like large kitchens; I, on the other hand, like a big bed.

Perhaps it's because I never had my own bed until I went to university.

My father passed away when I was young. He was a civil servant. When I was seven, he smiled and said goodbye to my sister and me before leaving for work. His motorcycle was hit by a truck, and from then on, my life was without my father.

My mother raised my sister and me alone. Due to financial difficulties, my sister and I slept in the same room from a young age, in a bunk bed. I slept on the top bunk, and my sister slept on the bottom bunk.

It wasn't until I left home for university that I finally had my own bed.

Now, I have two large double beds in my home, both of which are mine. One is for my husband and me, and the other is for my father-in-law and me. The former bed once broke my heart, while the latter allowed me to start anew.

Although the two beds are from different eras and are made differently, they share one thing in common: they both creak when my husband and I make love on them.

If you call me a promiscuous incestuous woman, I'll admit to incest, but I won't admit to being promiscuous. If having relationships with only two men counts as promiscuity, then there are far more promiscuous people in the world than me.

Actually, I think I only fell in love with my husband's father after we got married, and my husband should bear full responsibility for that, since he slept with my sister first.

That day, I opened my eyes and found myself lying on an antique bed. The four bedposts were carved with intricate patterns, and the ceiling was decorated with meticulously painted ancient ladies. Was I dreaming? I wondered.

I turned to wake my husband and ask him something, only to realize that the arm I was using as a pillow was actually my father-in-law's. I was not only sleeping against him, but I was also completely naked.

In that brief moment, everything from the previous night flooded back. I quickly got up, dressed, and glanced back at my sleeping father-in-law. He was sleeping soundly. He had bought that bed to commemorate his deceased mother-in-law, but she had never slept in it. I was the first woman to sleep with him there.

I turned on the TV in my father-in-law's room. The screen showed my husband and my sister sleeping together, embracing. The morning light streamed through the curtains I had chosen, bathing my bed in a pinkish glow. The man and woman slept in each other's arms, looking blissfully happy. But the man was my husband, and the woman was my sister. I couldn't help but cry again. I turned off the TV, went downstairs, got in my car, and drove away.

As I drove, tears streamed down my face. How could they look so happy? That was my bed, my room, my man, and my… sister.

How could they be so presumptuous as to think that taking down my wedding photo from above my bed would turn my room into their new home? A memory flashed through my mind:

"Sister, your boyfriend is so handsome! I wish I had a boyfriend like that someday." My

sister was only in her first year of high school then, and my then-boyfriend's husband came to visit.

"Don't worry, you're so pretty, your future boyfriend will definitely be even better,"

I remember replying.

"No, I love you, sister. If I marry someone else, it won't be easy for us to see each other anymore, so let's both marry your husbands!"

my sister said, blinking at me.

Because my father died early, only my mother was responsible for supporting the family, and I had always taken care of my sister, who was six years younger than me. She was always very attached to me. At the time, I thought she was just joking, but now, thinking back, did my sister deliberately get into a university close to our home and then intentionally seduce my husband?

I don't know, my mind is spinning. How did my home become like this? I'm driving alone, but I don't know where to go. I want to go home, but is that place still my home? Is there any place for me anymore? I want to go back to my parents' house, but how can I tell my mother that my sister stole my husband?

I don't know, I really don't know. I drove all the way to the sea, until I stopped on the road by the windbreak forest. Looking at the sea, I suddenly had a strong urge to drink. So I bought a few cans of vodka, parked the car in the windbreak forest, and started chugging it down. The vodka was very strong, but I didn't mind at all. I just wanted to get drunk and forget all this. I gulped down the fiery vodka, and with my frantic drinking, I finally passed out on the steering wheel.

In my dream, I dreamt that my husband and I were making love. We were doing it very intensely. The large, old bed was creaking loudly and shaking up and down. I was shouting out lewd moans I'd never uttered before. My husband's penis was thrusting in and out of me, pounding against my clitoris, until finally his hot semen filled my uterus. My whole body was convulsing, and my vagina was clamped around his thick penis, trying to squeeze out his semen. When we separated, I was still feeling the satisfaction of my orgasm.

After a while, I turned my head, wanting to snuggle into my husband's arms, but then I suddenly realized that the man lying next to me was my father-in-law. I screamed in fright and became fully awake.

"Knock knock knock," a knocking sound came from the car window.

I turned my head and saw a young policeman, his police motorcycle parked beside me.

I rolled down the car window, but the sea breeze immediately made me vomit. I couldn't stop, and my clothes and the car were covered in a stench of stomach acid and alcohol. After vomiting for a while, I slumped into the seat, panting.

The policeman frowned and said,

"Miss, you're way too drunk. You can't drive like this."

I nodded. My head was throbbing; I couldn't even walk, let alone drive.

"Do you have your home phone? I'll call your family to pick you up," the policeman kindly asked.

So I gave him my home phone number, and he made the call. It was my father-in-law on the other end.

"Hello, where are you? I can't find you anywhere. I've called your cell phone several times, but you haven't answered. Why is it the police calling? What's wrong?" he asked with concern.

Hearing his concerned voice warmed my heart, followed by a pang of sorrow, and tears welled up again.

"I...I'm drunk, and I'm..."

I looked at the policeman. I really didn't know where I was.

The police officer took the phone and said to my father-in-law, "Hello, this is a police officer from XX Police Station. Your young lady is drunk and has vomited all over the car. Do you want to come and pick her up? Drive along XX Road..."

The officer then explained the location to my father-in-law. He then handed the phone back to me.

"It's alright, I'll come pick you up right now. Just drive to the police station and wait for me there. I'll be right there."

My father-in-law comforted me on the other end of the phone as if he were comforting his daughter. So I went back to the police station with the officer.

"Oh dear, oh dear, what happened to you?"

My father-in-law said with concern when he saw that I reeked of alcohol and stomach acid. "Go home quickly and take a shower. I'll change your clothes."

"Okay,"

I replied. Just as I was about to stand up, I felt dizzy again. My father-in-law, not minding the mess, quickly supported me.

"Thank you, thank you."

My father-in-law gave the two boxes of tea he had brought to the police station, helping me walk while repeatedly thanking the officer.

I sat in my father-in-law's car, feeling groggy all the way home. When we reached the stairs, he simply carried me on his back.

"Go take a shower,"

he said, setting me down at the bathroom door on the second floor.

"A shower will help you sober up. I'll go upstairs and get your clothes."

I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, tested the water temperature, and rinsed myself off, trying to forget some things. So much had happened that day: first, I discovered my husband and sister were having an affair, then what happened in my father-in-law's room last night—the first time in my life I'd gotten so drunk.

Sigh, what's wrong with my life? In this state, only my father-in-law was there for me. Life really is unpredictable.

I heard my father-in-law knocking at the door. "I brought your clothes."

I opened the door and peeked out. When he saw me, his face turned red, and he stood there blankly, holding my clothes.

"Dad, the clothes,"

I said. His face turned even redder, and he quickly handed me the clothes.

I could clearly see his sweatpants bulging high.

My father-in-law clearly noticed, and he quickly turned and left.

I found his action quite amusing. After showering and turning off the tap, I heard music coming from outside. My father-in-law was singing karaoke. Hearing his voice eased my gloom a little. He loves karaoke, and his singing is quite good.

He was singing Jiang Hui's new song, a duet.

"Words of love in dreams—are they true or false? No matter how the wind and rain blow, I still can't wake up. The words of advice in my dreams, though only a few, warm my heart. I truly want to cherish them."

Then I thought of the night I slept in my father-in-law's arms, and the way he blushed just now. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but smile. Although he's over fifty, his expression just now was like that of a lovestruck teenager.

But his penis was quite large, no smaller than my husband's. It seems father and son do have a genetic predisposition.

I dried myself off and put on the light blue matching underwear set my father-in-law had brought me. He has a good eye for choosing underwear; this is my favorite set because it not only supports my bust perfectly but is also very comfortable.

The matching set was another favorite: a beige, deep V-neck, three-quarter-sleeve knit top paired with a fitted, knee-length black A-line skirt. The skirt had a side slit that went up to my thigh. It wasn't very expensive, but it looked good and allowed for easy movement.

I went to the living room, and my father-in-law was still singing, mimicking the female vocals. I laughed; the scene was absolutely hilarious. You can imagine a fifty-something-year-old man in front of the TV, mimicking Jiang Hui's singing in a high-pitched voice. But my father-in-law wasn't just mimicking the voice; he was mimicking the expressions too. How to describe it? Let's put it this way: imagine an old dog trying to meow like a cat.

"What are you laughing at?" my father-in-law asked, his face flushed.

"Nothing, you sang very well," I said, laughing so hard I bent over, half-squatting on the floor.

"Nonsense," my father-in-law said a little embarrassedly, as he continued singing the male part.

I watched him sing earnestly; his male vocals of A-Du's song were quite pleasant. After finishing the male part, he didn't sing the female part this time, pausing there, probably afraid I'd laugh at him. Then he turned around and tossed the microphone to me, saying,

"Here, you sing, you're a woman."

"I can't sing," I waved my hands in refusal.

"Nonsense, how could you, a tour guide, not know it?" my father-in-law said.

Seeing his expectant look, I had no choice but to pick up the microphone and continue singing. Of course, I knew this song; it's a popular karaoke song these days.

"The sweet words in my dreams~ are true, not false. Although the dream is short, I will love you forever and never regret it. The words I whispered in my dreams are vows of eternal love. I hope you will remember them in your heart. I will accompany you with all my heart."

My father-in-law nodded, picked up another microphone, and continued singing. I sang along. The part where men and women sang together was quite difficult, but my father-in-law sang it quite well.

"Thank you for your honesty. It gave me a chance to start over. I've tasted the bitterness of first love. I've tried to calm down and be thorough in my feelings. Only our love was beautiful

. Let fate arrange everything. Thank you for God's blessing. I'll give you the opportunity to love each other." When he sang the last line, my father-in-law looked at me. His face was flushed, and his eyes had a strange light. But as soon as he met my eyes, he immediately looked away.

My heart skipped a beat. My father-in-law liked me, and he liked me very much.

"Are you tired? It's still early. Go and get some sleep."

My father-in-law said, but he still didn't dare to look at me.

"Okay,"

I replied casually, and was about to go upstairs when I suddenly thought of my husband and sister on that bed. Which bed should I sleep in? I glanced back at my father-in-law, who was staring at me intently.

"Dad, what are you looking at?"

I asked the honest man with a smile, having made a decision in my mind.

"N-nothing..."

he stammered.

"I think you're very beautiful."

His head drooped even lower.

I laughed and deliberately walked up to him, knowing that my deep V-neck top would expose my entire breasts to his lowered gaze.

"What's so beautiful about me?" I asked.

He quickly raised his head, our eyes less than half a foot apart. He groaned, but didn't look away.

"You're... very beautiful," he replied, swallowing hard.

"Really?"

I circled him, secretly enjoying the thrill of mesmerizing him.

"You have a good eye for clothes. I really like this outfit."

"Yes, actually you're pretty, you look good in anything."

My father-in-law said, his eyes still involuntarily fixed on my snow-white chest.

"Don't you think the slit in this dress is quite nice?"

I stretched my legs, pulling the already high slit even higher.

"Yes, it is very nice."

My father-in-law stared intently at my inner thighs, not only swallowing but also smacking his lips.

"It's a pity you're not wearing pantyhose, it would look even better."

I bent down and ran my hand up my thigh.

"What color pantyhose do you think would match?"

"The color doesn't matter, the kind with straps would be best."

My father-in-law seemed to regret saying that.

I looked up, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, and said,

"Then I'll wear it for you next time. Okay, I can sleep in your bed now." I slowly walked towards my

father-in-law's room, very slowly, hoping to be held tightly in my arms. I walked slowly into his room, but I was disappointed. He didn't chase after me to hug me. I walked to the old dressing table in the room. Had I overestimated my charm? Just then

, a strong arm grabbed me from behind, one hand tightly encircling my waist, and his lips kissed my neck.

"Dad, what are you doing?" I pretended to struggle, but my father-in-law tightened his grip on my arm.

"I love you. Ever since you married into our family, I've often thought about being with you," he said urgently, his hand quickly slipping inside my collar and grasping my breast. His other hand reached under my high-slit skirt and down to my vulva.

"Really? Then why didn't you make love to me last night?" I twisted my body, my father-in-law's assault was too stimulating, his thick penis pressed against my buttocks, even through the clothes I could feel his throbbing desire.

"Yesterday was different," my father-in-law said, as he pulled open my bra, took my breasts out of my clothes, and pinched my sensitive nipples. He also lifted the skirt from behind, revealing my light blue, semi-transparent panties.

"Oh... Daddy..." I moaned, spreading my legs to match his movements.

“I’m going to fuck you to death,” my father-in-law said urgently, his eyes gleaming with a strange light. “I’ve regretted it since last night. I want to be with you, I don’t care about anything else.”

“You…” I didn’t expect my father-in-law to say that, but before I could think any further, my panties had been pulled down to my thighs. His rough fingers parted my labia and quickly found my clitoris. I moaned even louder. My father-in-law’s body pressed down on me from behind, forcing me to bend over and brace myself on the dressing table.

In the mirror of the dressing table, I saw my breasts being kneaded by my father-in-law. Under his gentle, sometimes light, sometimes firm kneading, my nipples soon became engorged and erect. My father-in-law licked my earlobe and whispered in my ear, “I’ve wanted to see your two big tits for so long.” As he spoke, he inserted his fingers into my vagina. His rough fingers skillfully teased my vulva and clitoris, making my body heat up quickly.

Every time his fingers penetrated deeper, I felt them tightly wrapped around my flesh, waves of pleasure emanating from where we touched. The squelching sounds of his fingers filled the air, and I knew my juices were flowing freely.

"Dad, I'm your daughter-in-law," I asked. Had my father-in-law already decided to betray his son?

"So what? I don't care if you go to hell," he shouted. I felt a burning heat on my labia; his tip had already pressed against my body, penetrating deep within my desire. My sensitive vulva and his large penis pressed tightly together, the sensation like fire shooting up my spine to my head. Finally, when the hot tip reached my uterus, I couldn't help but groan.

"Oh… Dad, you've reached the very end." His penis completely filled my vagina; the feeling was incredibly pleasurable, and I couldn't help but sigh.

“This is where we’re joined together, feel it, you’re so wet.” My father-in-law pulled my hand towards our joined area. I touched my labia and his penis; the amount of fluid was indeed extraordinary, and this action intensified my sensations.

“It’s all because of you…” I protested to my father-in-law, but he thrust forward. I held onto the vanity table with one hand, his huge penis pounding violently against my most sensitive spot. My hand gripped the table, letting the hot penis pierce my body.

“I… I what… Is it good… Hmm…” My father-in-law asked as he pounded on me like a madman, not at all like someone in his fifties. The violent force made the vanity table creak and groan. Under his rough force, I could only press my face against the cool mirror, letting my round buttocks clearly feel the impact from my father-in-law’s pubic bone.

"So good...so good...oh...so deep...oh...you've killed your daughter-in-law...ah..." I groaned. My father-in-law's glans continued to slam hard against my clitoris, again and again. The intense pleasure made my whole body go numb, and my head felt like it was being struck by lightning, flashing with each thrust of my father-in-law.

“You’re not my daughter-in-law, you…you’re my wife, I want you to be my wife…wife…” My father-in-law gasped, sweat rolling down his wrinkled face.

“Yes…yes…husband…husband…you’re so amazing…ah…ah…I can’t take it…ah…I’m going to break.” Under my father-in-law’s seemingly endless thrusting, my body began to convulse, every hair on my body stood on end, and my juices flowed like a burst dam from my thighs down to my ankles. The peak of pleasure surged through me with each thrust, and I felt like I was flying. My mind was blank except for the intense pleasure; the only sensation left was the feeling of my father-in-law’s penis rubbing against my vagina.

“I…I’m going to cum…I can’t hold back…” my father-in-law growled.

“Cum…cum inside…ah…ah…” I cried out wildly.

With our passionate cries, my father-in-law's thick, hard penis thrust deep into my uterus. His glans trembled, and scalding semen shot violently into my womb. My pleasure instantly reached its peak. I thrust my round, upturned buttocks back, tightly connecting our genitals. My father-in-law held me tightly as well. The overwhelming pleasure made my vision go black. As my consciousness faded, my father-in-law's hot penis remained deeply inserted into my body.

There's a large double bed in my house. That bed is about thirty years old. According to my father, it was the bed he bought when he and my mother got married. Back then, it was made of high-quality wood, sturdy and durable. However, it's a bit old now. Two years ago, I took out the mattress and repainted the entire bed, sanding off the old, peeling paint with sandpaper, and then applying two coats of pink that matched the room's color scheme. My father, a sentimental and fond of old things, didn't agree with this at all. He spent five or six hundred thousand yuan on an antique camphor wood bed, claiming it was from the Qing Dynasty, saying that sleeping on it felt like stepping back in time. Yet he vehemently opposed me getting a new bed, which was a bit unreasonable. So, between throwing it away and repainting it, my father reluctantly let me get it painted pink.

Uh, pink—it's not my fault, my wife loves pink, and our entire room is pink: pink walls, pink curtains, and a pink bed. However, even though the bed was repainted, it's quite old, and every time my wife and I make love on it, it creaks and groans. But I actually quite like that sound; it makes me feel like I'm very vigorous, giving me extra energy.

Sometimes my dad, who lives downstairs, would complain, "Hey mom, could you take it easy? I can hear that bed creaking all night. Can't you be a little more considerate of this lonely old man?"

At that point, I would always laugh and say, "I inherited that from you. If I don't work a little harder, how will I give you a grandson to hold?" Then I would add, "My second son's strength is also inherited from you." At this point, my dad and I would look at each other and burst into laughter.

We live in a three-story house that we built ourselves. When I was a child, it was an old bungalow by the roadside. Later, when we had money, my father renovated it into a three-story house. The first floor was used as a garage, kitchen, and dining room. My father, who lived alone, lived on the second floor, and my wife and I lived on the third floor. Of course, it was a bit empty with only three people living in a house of about 80 square meters. A little over a year ago, my sister-in-law was admitted to a university near our home. After discussing it with my wife, we decided to give her a room on the third floor. However, my wife probably never imagined that her sister would sleep with me. Moreover, we often made that 30-year-old bed creak. Otherwise, she wouldn't have let her sister live on the same floor as us.

Honestly, my wife and her sister are both good-looking. Both sisters are tall and slender, and both have long hair. My wife is a bit shorter than her sister, but her breasts are much bigger. However, bigger breasts inevitably mean they're a bit looser. Her sister, though a size smaller, has very firm and bouncy breasts. Each has its own advantages. Besides, my sister-in-law, being younger, likes to dance. Her slender waist is truly breathtaking when she shakes it; it looks like she's going to break my penis. Although I'm incredibly strong and have a big, durable penis, sometimes after a long day at get off work, I have to rush to have sex with my sister-in-law before my wife gets home. Dealing with two sisters at the same time can be a bit overwhelming sometimes.

If you ask me how I'm so lucky to have gotten together with two beautiful sisters, I'll tell you, "It's all fate." Or, to paraphrase that line from the movie *The God of Cookery*, "These things are all about talent."

Actually, it's all my wife's fault. Which industry is better? Why did she have to work for a travel agency? She's so competitive and often works late or leads tours abroad, leaving home unattended. And her sister is just so beautiful. I'm not some saint, so getting together with her pretty younger sister isn't entirely my fault; you could even say it's her sister's fault. I just happened to be in that place, and I just happened to have a hard-on.

This happened last summer. It was a very hot day. I went to a strip karaoke bar with clients until after 11 pm, had a few drinks, and when I got home, I opened the door to find her younger sister on the sofa, wearing only a thin t-shirt and shorts, asleep watching TV in the living room. I forgot my wife was on a tour that day and for a moment thought it was my wife lying there trying to seduce me. Besides, with her long, slender, fair legs curled up on the sofa, and her breasts exposed under her thin t-shirt without a bra, even if I recognized her as my sister-in-law and not my wife, I don't think this would have been impossible.

I don't remember the initial situation very clearly, but according to my sister-in-law, she went out with friends that night, drank some alcohol, took a shower when she got home, threw her clothes in the washing machine, and watched TV in the living room. Unexpectedly, she fell asleep while watching TV, which is why she was dressed like that. When I first started groping her, she thought she was having a wet dream. When she woke up, I had already stripped her down below the waist, pulled up her t-shirt, and her nipples were being played with by my tongue. To make matters worse, I had already spread her legs, and my hot glans had parted her soft pubic hair, pushing open her pink flesh, ready to plunge into her wet and secret place.

My sister-in-law insists that she cried out, "Brother-in-law, no!" or something similar, but I have no memory of it. Who knows if she's just making it up? All I remember is her long, slender legs tightly wrapped around my waist, which I'd developed from years of swimming, her nails digging into my back muscles, her beautiful hair cascading over my leather sofa, as she cried out, "I'm coming... Ahhh... No more... No more... You're so strong... Help... I'm going to die..."

I'm sure I recognized her as my sister-in-law, not my wife, because my wife is always quiet in bed. Although she might wrap her legs around my waist and hold me tightly, and her vaginal walls might contract and grip my hot penis, she would never cry out so wildly, nor would she thrust her hips so violently, letting her mons pubis slam against me.

Although I had already recognized that she wasn't my wife, my sister-in-law certainly knew even better that this wasn't a dream. However, under the circumstances, we simply couldn't stop. I admit I had never experienced such exciting sex before, and I think my sister-in-law had too. I pulled her fair and tender legs onto the back of the sofa, clearly seeing my large penis bulging with veins, thrusting again and again into my sister-in-law's juicy, tender vagina. The pink labia moved in and out with my movements, and the thick, white fluid that gushed out with our actions seemed to bloom like flowers on her soft pubic hair.

Under my relentless assault, my sister-in-law could no longer scream. The only sounds in the small living room were my heavy breathing and my sister-in-law's plaintive cries, combined with the "slap slap" of muscles colliding and the "plop" of my penis thrusting in and out of her juicy vagina, creating a symphony of sexual passion.

I don't know how many times I brought my sister-in-law to orgasm, but then I buried my glans deep into her hot womb, spraying copious amounts of semen onto her trembling uterine walls. She let out a long, soft cry, her body and vagina convulsing uncontrollably, clinging tightly to me. My penis inside her seemed to have been without a woman for ten years, trembling and spurting out large amounts of semen.

After our breathing gradually calmed down, the alcohol in my brain had been completely burned away by the passion we'd just experienced. But my penis was still inside my sister-in-law's warm, tight vagina, her elastic young breasts pressed tightly against my chest, and her fragrant breath sprayed directly onto my neck. I looked down at her, but she buried her head tightly against me.

"Is it good?" I asked her.

"Mmm." She didn't speak. I tried to pull away from her, but she held me tightly.

For a long time, we didn't speak, just held each other tightly. I didn't know what she was thinking, but my mind was blank. I had slept with my wife's sister, which was wrong. Even if I had drunk some alcohol, it was still wrong. But... but... this feeling was fucking amazing. Since I was nineteen and had my first time with my then-girlfriend, I'd been with many women, including prostitutes, but I'd never felt this good. I thought my little brother probably felt the same way, because inside her, that troublesome thing was getting hard again.

My sister-in-law noticed immediately; after all, there's a difference between a hot, hard penis and a soft, lifeless one. This time, she tried to separate our tightly pressed bodies. She twisted her body, but I held her down firmly, not letting her go.

"No," my sister-in-law whispered, her voice thick with a nasal tone. "Get up, don't press me down." Uh, I admit I had a bit of a conscience after my first time, but now, with my erect penis inside my sister-in-law's tender vagina, I could clearly feel the tightness and warmth of her vagina. In this situation, my little bit of conscience had long since vanished, so I didn't answer, instead holding her even tighter.

"You're bullying me! I'll tell my sister! You scumbag, get away..." my sister-in-law shouted, raising her voice.

As she spoke, she tried to break free from my hold, her slender body twisting and turning beneath me, her soft little hands pressing against my shoulders as she tried to push me away. But this was ineffective, not only because of the difference in our strength, but also because her swollen mons pubis kept slamming against my genitals with each movement, my burning glans rubbing and bumping against her vulva, while her breasts massaged my chest like a Thai massage.

Clearly, my aunt realized this was useless; she stopped struggling, panting, her body temperature, which had cooled slightly, seemed to rise again. I looked down at her flushed face, her bright eyes glistening with tearful tears, everything about her revealing a pitiful, wronged state, truly heartbreaking. Damn it, her older sister always does this, and I just can't seem to resist it.

"Brother-in-law, we can't do this. Please get up, okay?" My aunt seemed to sense my softening and changed to pleading. Her voice was so soft and her tone so earnest that it was impossible to refuse.

"This..." I hesitated, but my aunt's voice brought my last shred of conscience back to reality.

"Get up, I won't tell my sister, we'll pretend this never happened, okay, brother-in-law?" My aunt continued to intensify her pitiful, girlish pleas. Looking at her pleading face and listening to her nasal pleas, I hesitated even more.

"Okay, you can't tell your sister, okay? I was drunk just now, that's why I did that. I didn't mean to, it's just that you were dressed so provocatively." I admitted I couldn't resist this kind of attack, especially since I was indeed in the wrong.

"Okay, it's a deal, I won't tell my sister," my aunt said.

"Oh, really?" I asked again. To be honest, I really didn't want to pull my penis out of her body. The feeling was just too good, and I couldn't help but start moving again, the glans rubbing against her warm and tight flesh.

"Really?" My aunt nodded and nudged me. "Get up, don't keep moving around, hey... don't move around, ah... ah."

Hearing my aunt's seductive moans, I couldn't resist. Once my penis started moving, I didn't want to stop. If I didn't do it now, I would be letting myself down, but if I did, I would be letting my wife down. But my wife wasn't there; my beautiful little sister was. So, as I moved, I said to my aunt, "I'm sorry, little sister, I just can't help it. Look how hard I am."

"No... brother-in-law... I can't let my sister down... hey... get up... ah..." My aunt pounded my shoulder, but her voice didn't sound like she was refusing. Hmm... when I was horny, I probably wouldn't have been able to tell.

"Just once more... that's enough... I won't do it again." I thrust my big cock deep into my aunt's body, and I imagine it made her weak all over. She even spread her tightly closed, plump legs, and my pubic bone slammed solidly against her full, protruding mons pubis, my glans relentlessly pounding against her clitoris.

"Ah... brother-in-law... you... ah... no... ah... ah... no... no... so good... so good... so good... stop... stop for a second... oh..." My aunt started moaning again under my relentless assault. I really didn't understand how my aunt, who was only twenty years old, could moan so well, completely different from her older sister.

Amidst my aunt's moans, we engaged in passionate intercourse. The barriers of propriety that had separated us were shattered by my penis, and neither of us could resist the eruption of lust.

This time, unlike before when I was slightly drunk and only focused on thrusting wildly, seeing that my aunt had given up resisting, I stopped pressing down on her and turned her body ninety degrees. Her upper body was on the sofa, and I pulled her legs up to her chest, folding her body in half. I placed my knees on the edge of the sofa, allowing my waist to move freely, and my aunt cooperated with me in changing positions. During these changes, she tightly wrapped her legs around my waist, ensuring that my penis never slipped out—a skill that her older sister couldn't achieve.

After positioning myself, I began alternating between deep and shallow thrusts, watching my aunt's perfectly proportioned calves extend straight down to her full, smooth thighs, above which lay her round, white buttocks. Her supple waist, bent at a 90-degree angle, showed no excess fat. Her firm, white breasts bore two pink nipples. Looking down, I saw her pink, tender labia, glistening with lustful moisture. Between them, my engorged, throbbing penis was thrusting in and out of her labia.

"How is it? Is it good?" I teased.

"So...so good...it feels amazing," my aunt moaned in response.

"Is my penis big?" I continued.

"Big...big..." my aunt said.

"Not enough..." I said unsatisfied, gripping the back of the chair and slamming into her hard.

"Ah...so big...oh...faster...faster...ah ah...extra-large...ah...die...I'm going to die...this big cock is fucking me...fucking me to death...ah...faster...ah...I'm dying...oh oh ah!" Under this onslaught, my aunt's voice rose as she cried out, and soon she reached another climax. The walls of her vagina sucked and released my glans, making my whole body feel numb with pleasure.

"You slut...be more lewd..." I cursed, ignoring her pleas for mercy, my big cock pounding against my aunt's clitoris, preparing to bring her to multiple orgasms.

"I...oh...big meat stick...fuck...fuck my sister to death...I can't take it anymore...ah...so good...so good...I'm dying...ah...so deep...my sister is going to break...ah!" Auntie cried out loudly in a lustful voice.

"Wh...what sister, it's your vagina, you know what a vagina is, right?" I said.

"It's...oh...it's a super...super big meat stick...poke...poke it to burst...oh...my...vaginal...I...oh oh ah..." Auntie obediently cried out in a lustful voice, her beautiful eyes half-open and half-closed, her face as if in a daze, looking blank, clearly on the verge of orgasm.

Her climax seemed even more intense this time; the contractions of her vagina were stronger, her fair face flushed like cherry blossoms in spring, and she writhed wildly, her slender fingers gripping my broad shoulders tightly. I had no choice but to lower her legs, hold her tightly, and stop thrusting. My glans pressed deeply against her clitoris, savoring every throbbing of her beautiful opening. Her smooth legs now wrapped tightly around my waist, her mons pubis rubbing against my genitals. Her moist, supple vagina gripped my penis, her clitoris opening and closing, biting at my glans. It was so beautiful I almost ejaculated, so I desperately contracted my groin muscles, forcing back my budding semen.

After a while, my aunt's heaving breasts finally calmed down, and she gently stroked my back with both hands. I figured I'd done a pretty good job, but then suddenly a sharp pain shot through my lower back. This woman had pinched a small piece of my flesh with her nails, twisted it, and ripped a chunk of flesh off my waist.

"Damn it!" I was about to swear, but seeing my aunt's tear-streaked face, I swallowed the words. Damn it, I just can't stand seeing women cry.

"You...you're so mean. Again...again..." This time, my aunt really cried. Damn it, women are so weird. Just a moment ago she was calling me "dear brother," "good husband," and "big dick," and now she's playing the innocent, virginal trick on me.

"Don't cry, it's...it's my fault, I'm bad, I deserve to die, it's all because of my mom's lust, she forgets everything when she sees my pretty sister..." I slapped myself a few times, inwardly cursing, "Screw you, trying to pull this on? Can't I play innocent? Do you think I've never been a little girl? How I tricked your sister back then, I'll trick you now." But the slaps stung my face, so painful. Damn, I haven't practiced in years, I don't know my own strength.

Maybe I was bold enough, the slaps were hard enough, because my aunt froze, though tears still clung to her face, at least she stopped sobbing. "Don't be like this, I didn't mean to blame you," my aunt said softly. "Actually, I was wrong too, I...you...I just didn't have the strength." As she spoke, my aunt blushed, burying her head in my chest, revealing her sweat-drenched, snow-white neck.

I tightened my arms around her, and she flinched, but offered no resistance. "But I'm still very strong," I teased in her ear, my still-erect penis throbbing inside her again.

"You're so naughty!" my aunt said, her voice devoid of any nasal tone.

"Is it good or bad?" I pressed.

"You won't listen when I say it's bad," my aunt said, pausing before adding, "Could we not be on the sofa? It's uncomfortable."

"Okay, let's go to the room then," I said, preparing to get up, but my aunt grabbed me.

"Don't come out," she said, her long legs wrapping around me again.

"Oh, how do I do it?" Moving from the living room to the bed without pulling out was going to be difficult.

"Think for yourself, if you can't figure it out, then don't bother," she said, blinking as if she already knew the answer.

"Tch, this little thing is no problem for me, I'm just afraid you won't cooperate," I said, placing my hands behind her knees. "Hold on tight!" I said.

My aunt hugged my neck tightly, and I slowly stood up. I'd been at it for a while, and my legs were almost too weak to stand. Luckily, I still go to the gym every week, so I didn't embarrass myself; I could still lift a woman weighing over 40 kilograms. My aunt clung to me, and the fluids from our joined bodies slowly trickled down my thighs.

"Brother-in-law is so strong," my aunt said, pressing her lips to my earlobe and licking it.

"Get lost," I said irritably. "Why do you eat so much? You're heavy." I endured the itch as I slowly walked into the room.

Once I reached the bed, I gently placed my aunt on the edge and began my assault. I pulled my thick, long penis all the way in and then thrust it in completely. My aunt also moved her slender waist vigorously to match my thrusts, creating loud clattering sounds. Even the old bed creaked and groaned along with our movements and moans. Under such intense intercourse, my whole body heated up, and beads of sweat appeared on my forehead. "I...I can't hold back...you...you hurry...hurry up..." My aunt held my head, moaning and groaning, struggling to hold back her climax, preparing to reach our peak at the same time.

"I...almost there...just bear with it a little longer," I replied breathlessly. Her beautiful vagina began to contract again, and I vigorously thrust my penis in and out of her vagina, each thrust going all the way in, each one slamming into her clitoris.

"Oh...I...really...ah..." Before she could finish speaking, my aunt suddenly grabbed me, the soft muscles in her vagina now gripping my penis like iron clamps, her cervix spasming and contracting, hot vaginal fluid spraying copiously onto my glans, making me see stars, my scalp tingle, and my legs tremble. I thrust in twice more, slamming my hot, swollen glans into my aunt's fiery uterus.

My aunt and I let out a cry of ecstasy as thick semen erupted from the tip of my penis. Countless sperm slammed against the walls of her uterus. She convulsed beneath me, her vagina gripping my shaft tightly as if trying to squeeze me dry, until the last drop of semen was released.

Holding her sweaty body, we were both too exhausted to move. Our breaths, released after the frenzy, brushed against each other's faces. My aunt smiled faintly, and I smiled too. Reaching climax simultaneously after intense intercourse was the ultimate pleasure. Neither of us wanted to separate, so we slept together, one after the other.

From that day on, my aunt became my concubine. Whenever my wife wasn't home, she would sleep in my room. Ironically, before my wife led a tour group abroad, she would always instruct her younger sister to keep a close eye on me. Ha... My wife's absence is what motivates me to come home early.

Speaking of which, it's 4:30 PM now. My wife is leading a delegation to the US today, and the county magistrate is in the north for a meeting, so as a civil servant, I naturally left work early to go home. I spoke with my sister-in-law on the phone at noon; she didn't have classes this afternoon, so I imagine she's at home taking a shower, applying perfume, and getting ready, waiting for me to come home so we

can get to work. My wife has always dreamed of having an eight-legged bed like her mother's when she gets married. However, when we got married over thirty years ago, nobody made such things. So my dad asked my uncle, a furniture maker, to make a bed. Although my uncle spared no expense, it still wasn't the eight-legged bridal bed my wife had always wanted, but it was still a luxury item for its time. It was made of top-quality Taiwanese camphor wood, and the legs were carved. In those days when everyone was poor, it was a super high-end item.

For decades, my wife never forgot the eight-legged bed in her mother's room. But by the time we could afford a Qing Dynasty rosewood eight-legged carved bridal bed, my wife was already gone. So I often lie on that antique bed thinking of her, remembering how she suffered with me, only to die before she could hold her grandchild. I can't help but sigh. Besides lamenting her early death, I also lament becoming a lonely old woman, with no one to talk to at night.

Since my wife passed away a few years ago, I haven't had much of a sex life. At first, friends would invite me to teahouses to relax with some prostitutes, but one time the police chief invited me for tea, saying they were ordered to crack down on prostitution. He said I had served as a village head for over ten years, had a good image, and my son worked for the county government, so he told me to go less often to avoid being arrested and hurting my feelings. After hearing this, I felt too embarrassed to go anymore.

Later, some people advised me to go to the mainland and find a young woman to be my life partner. But I saw my elementary school classmate, Wu Sang, whose family was in chaos because he married a young woman in her early twenties from the mainland. The whole family was in turmoil over the inheritance. When

he took the mainland woman out, the neighbors pointed and gossiped, saying things like "an old cow eating young grass," "his wife is younger than his daughter," "shameless," and "a lecherous old man." I thought it was better not to go.

Every time I go to Wu Sang's house and see his young wife, I can't help but feel a little envious. But envy aside, I don't have the nerve to imitate him.

So, ever since my son married a beautiful woman two years ago, listening to the creaking of that old bed upstairs at night has become my greatest pleasure. I often listen to that sound and fantasize about having sex with a beautiful woman on my own Qing Dynasty pear wood eight-legged bed.

Yes, I admit, sometimes I imagine the beautiful woman lying on that antique bed is my wife, but I more often fantasize about female celebrities, famous women. Like that former female minister who speaks fluent English that's currently being discussed in the news—I've fantasized about her several times.

So when my son said he wanted to change beds a while ago, I was firmly against it. Just kidding, I'm like a lone bird without a nest now; not having a nest is bad enough, but not even being able to hear the birds chirping upstairs is even worse.

"Creak, creak," damn it, the creaking of that bed upstairs is coming again. I looked at the clock; it's not even eight o'clock yet. My son is really something, always getting excited.

I chuckled and continued watching TV. Huh? Wait a minute, wasn't my wife, who works at a travel agency, leading a tour group to America today? Damn, what's my son doing now? I thought for a moment. My son brought a woman home? Impossible, my wife's sister lives upstairs, and she came home around 4 PM today; she shouldn't have gone out.

So, could it be my son and my wife's sister?!

How could this be? How could my son betray my beautiful and considerate wife? Every time she goes abroad, she brings me gifts. She's beautiful, has big breasts, and often dresses very lightly in the summer, letting her father-in-law have ice cream. This is unacceptable! My son is going too far. As her father, I must uphold justice; he can't treat her like this.

I opened the door, intending to go to the third floor, but stopped at the top of the stairs. No, this isn't right. Making a scene like this is bad for everyone. It would be embarrassing for both families. And even if I went in and caught him in the act, what would I say? That woman might be my wife's sister, not some random woman. I can't ignore her reputation.

But if I just leave it like this, my wife and in-laws will find out sooner or later, which isn't good either. I have to resolve this quietly before my wife finds out.

But how can I resolve it? I went back to my room and racked my brains. While I was thinking, the bed upstairs was still creaking. Damn it, that brat is still having fun over there. Damn it, he's slept with two beautiful women. Imagining my son having sex with my wife's sister on that bed made my mouth dry, and even my penis got hard. My mind was completely blank.

Just then, the news on TV broadcasted a story about a guy in central Taiwan who caught his wife drugging his coffee with a hidden camera. Hmm... that's a good idea. I'll get evidence against them first.

So I found a company that installs surveillance equipment and told them I suspected my son and daughter-in-law were plotting against me. I asked them to install surveillance equipment, but I figured they wouldn't care what I wanted to do with it anyway, since it was being installed in my house.

So, taking advantage of the fact that no one was on the third floor during the day, I asked them to install hidden cameras in the TVs in the living room and bedroom on the third floor, and at the same time run the cables to the recording equipment in my room on the second floor.

The installers carefully taught me how to switch cameras, zoom in and out, adjust the volume, and record.

The night after the equipment was installed, I found the evidence. My son and his wife's sister were acting like a married couple while my wife was away. They were not only naked and cuddling in bed watching TV, but they were also kissing non-stop in the living room. They even had sex with the lights on at night. My wife's sister is such a slut. While watching the live broadcast of their passionate encounter on TV, and hearing the creaking sounds coming from upstairs, I couldn't help but unzip my pants and start masturbating.

Seeing my son and his aunt making love on the screen, I quickly rubbed my own penis. With low moans, my hands were covered in sticky semen. Then I realized I'd forgotten to press the record button. Oh well, my wife isn't coming back tomorrow anyway, so these two will probably continue their battle. I'll just wait until tomorrow.

So I went to the bathroom to shower, hoping to calm down. But as I showered, my mind was filled with images of my son and his aunt making love. Damn it, it's been so long since I've had sex with a woman. Tonight, I'm probably a lonely bird without a nest again. It's truly a case of "Hey, hey... a little bird cries for help, cries until the middle of the night, no nest to be found..." That old song popped into my head. Damn! My son has plenty to do, but his father doesn't. Sigh, old age is useless.

After showering, I slowly walked back to the room wearing only my underwear, my crotch still bulging. It's rare to see my old man so energetic, but as his older brother, I'm quite helpless.

"Y-you're back?!"

I exclaimed in surprise.

"Something came up in America. I led a tour group, so I came back early,"

my wife said weakly, sitting on my antique bed.

I turned my head and saw the TV was still on, continuously broadcasting my son and his aunt's live sex show upstairs.

The bed upstairs was still making obscene creaking sounds.

My obedient wife was sitting alone on the edge of my bed, head down, sobbing softly.

This was really bad. I had to turn off the TV immediately, but in this urgent situation, the remote control was nowhere to be found. I looked left and right but couldn't find it, so I had to block the TV screen with my body.

But that broken bed upstairs keeps making noises. Damn it, I should have let my son change that bed.

"You, you..."

I blocked the TV, looking at my wife sitting on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to say. I was anxious, but my mind was blank.

My wife was sitting on the edge of the bed, head down, sobbing, her shoulders trembling slightly. She was still wearing her suit and well-fitting trousers, and her short-heeled shoes were lying next to my pillow.

"You...you saw it?" I asked. My

wife nodded, without looking up, and said, "I just got home. I wanted to surprise him, but who knew they were doing this in my room..."

As she spoke, she started crying, her frail body trembling.

"Didn't they see you?" I asked.

My wife shook her head, her once beautiful long hair now looking unusually weak and swaying.

It really broke my heart to see this. I sat down on the edge of the bed, put my hand on my wife's shoulder, and said, "My dear wife, don't cry. Dad will get justice for you. It's all my fault for

not raising our son properly. I'll go upstairs and teach them a lesson. Don't cry, be good." Just as I was about to get up, my wife immediately reached out to stop me. But she kept her head down, didn't even look at me, and reached out to press me down. She pressed down on my penis, which had been hard just moments before, and with that force, it really... a little... painful.

My wife immediately noticed something was wrong, looked up at me, and a blush of embarrassment flashed across her tear-streaked face before she immediately lowered her head again.

I endured the pain, but dared not say anything, and gritted my teeth as I sat back down. "...No, Dad... If we make a scene now, the whole neighborhood will know. Let's talk about it tomorrow," my wife said.

"You're still trying to save face for them?"

I said angrily, though I was in the right, my voice lacked strength.

"It's not about saving face for them, Dad, it's about Mom finding out. How am I supposed to explain this to her? She always told me to take care of my sister, but who knew..."

My daughter-in-law cried as she reasoned with her father-in-law, "Besides, if this gets out, everyone will lose face. They may not care about their reputation, but I do, and you, Dad, also have your pride."

“Yes, it’s rare to see someone so thoughtful.”

I sighed. My wife’s understanding made my heart ache even more. “That’s what I was thinking too, which is why I found someone to record this for my son to see, to advise him to know his limits. With such a good wife like you, how could he act recklessly?”

But hearing this, my wife cried even harder, her breathing becoming labored. I patted her shoulder tenderly, saying, “Don’t cry, don’t cry. My son’s misbehaving, but I, as his father, only recognize you as my wife. Don’t cry, be good.”

At that moment, my wife turned and leaned on my shoulder, sobbing. Warm tears seeped through her fingers and onto my shoulder, a sight that evoked immense pity.

In all my decades of life, I’ve never had a woman cry on my shoulder before, and I couldn’t help but feel at a loss.

My wife and I were married through an arranged marriage. Although our relationship is good after marriage, we've never followed that tradition. I didn't know how to handle the situation. Seeing my wife crying so hard, I put my arm around her shoulder and let her tears flow down my shoulder. At that moment, I suddenly felt a surge of unease, and I didn't know why. I just felt that I wanted to make my wife feel better, but I couldn't do anything about it, I was powerless to help.

My wife cried for a while and gradually stopped. She lowered her head, pushed me away, and said, "Dad, I'll stay in a hotel for now and come back tomorrow."

"Are you alright? It's so late, is it convenient for a woman like you to stay in a hotel?" I asked.

“It’s not inconvenient at all,” my wife said. She looked up, brushed her hair aside, and said,

“With money, you can stay anywhere. What’s there to be afraid of?”

As she said this, her eyes were red and her cheeks were streaked with tears. It made my heart ache. I wanted to tell her not to stay in a hotel; we had two empty rooms on this floor. But I didn’t know how to bring it up.

Just as I was thinking of what to say, my wife’s eyes suddenly became serious. Her almond-shaped eyes stared straight behind me. I turned around and saw the live broadcast showing the couple upstairs making love in bed—they were doing 69.

“What’s wrong?”

I asked my wife. Her expression was a little scary, constantly shifting, her eyebrows sometimes raised, sometimes furrowed. I nudged her, but she was like a wooden statue.

I figured it must be because the TV was still on, so I got up to find the remote.

I had just stood up when my wife hugged me from behind

. “Hug me,” she said.

"What are you doing? I'm your father-in-law, don't do this."

I turned around and said, my wife's body pressed against my back. I could clearly feel the pressure of her breasts. Her warm hands slowly slid down my chest, and her warm lips breathed a fragrant scent into my ear.

Damn it, I'm going to go crazy if this keeps up.

My wife didn't answer me. She slowly rubbed my body, and one hand slipped inside my underwear, touching my penis. The warm touch of her young fingers made my penis jump as if it had been electrocuted.

"No, I

can't help myself if you keep doing this," I said weakly, but my wife ignored me completely. Her hot tongue slowly slid down my spine, teasing my tailbone, while her hands pulled my loose boxer shorts down to my ankles.

"Ugh... Good wife, stop it!"

My patience was almost at its limit. I looked down and saw my wife's fair, jade-like hands holding my black penis. A clear liquid oozed from the tip, glistening in the light.

Her white hands were stroking my penis and massaging my scrotum, making every pore on my body tense, my heart pounding wildly as if it would burst.

"Damn! I told you to stop, oh..."

My wife's tongue swept across my buttocks, then slowly moved to my front. I saw her long eyelashes trembling, seemingly still glistening with tears from earlier. She looked up at me, but there was no desire in her eyes. Looking into her pupils, I felt a little afraid of her stare. There were emotions in those pupils that I didn't understand; I didn't know what they were.

My wife brushed her hair aside, opened her rosy lips, and took my glans into her mouth.

"Oh...oh..."

I groaned. I hadn't felt this way in a long time. My wife knelt in front of me, giving me a blowjob. She first licked the glans with her tongue, then licked up from the scrotum, her tongue sweeping under my urethra, making me tremble with pleasure. She repeated this action several times, then suddenly took my entire penis into her mouth, my glans reaching deep into her throat.

"Ugh!"

My wife immediately spat out my penis and coughed.

"What's wrong? Don't force yourself,"

I said. She actually wanted to swallow my whole big cock; no wonder she choked.

"No, it's okay,"

my wife looked up at me, her eyes still so deep.

"So big,"

she said.

But after saying that, she slowly swallowed my penis again, this time only a third of it, while she used her soft little hands to hold and stroke the other two-thirds. She moved her mouth and hands at the same time, quickly increasing my pleasure.

"So good, oh... oh..."

This feeling is amazing. I closed my eyes, enjoying the stimulation from my wife's hands and mouth. I was so happy that I could hardly stand up, so I had to lean against the bedpost of the eight-legged bed.

After a while, my wife slowly spat out my penis. My copper-colored penis was covered with her saliva. She looked up at me. Logically speaking, this was a very provocative action, but I couldn't see a trace of provocative charm in her deep eyes. My wife slowly stood up and began to take off her clothes. I watched her fair and slender fingers unbutton her shirt, one button after another, until the beige shirt fell to her feet. My wife was only wearing a light yellow bra. My God, her snow-white and smooth skin was almost blinding.

She took off her top, glanced at me again, and I turned my head away, not daring to look at her. I only heard my wife let out a very soft sigh, followed by the sound of her long skirt hitting the ground.

I couldn't help but glance over out of the corner of my eye. Although I had seen those shapely long legs before, and had fantasized about them, at this moment there was nothing there except for a pair of matching panties.

I swallowed hard; my penis was already at its limit, trembling with my wildly beating heart.

"Look at me,"

my wife commanded. I had no choice but to turn my head back, just in time to see her alluring lips curl into a smile. Then she walked towards me, took my hand, and placed it on the edge of her D-cup breasts. I suddenly felt as if I had been electrocuted. Her body was warm, and her soft breasts were full of elasticity.

My hand stopped on those half-exposed breasts, unable to move.

I looked at my wife, and she looked at me. God, her eyes, filled with sorrow yet also determination, made me lose all control. A thought I'd never felt before welled up inside me: I wanted her, I wanted this woman before me. I could give up everything else, but I had to have this woman. I didn't care if she was my wife or someone else, I didn't care if I went to hell or whatever. Damn it, I was determined to have this woman.

But even though my heart yearned for her cries countless times, I just couldn't bring myself to move.

Suddenly, my wife's warm, delicate body rushed into my arms. We fell onto the old bed, and she frantically pulled off her bra and panties. Guided by her fingers, my glans aimed at her soft, pink vulva, feeling the warmth of her labia, but there was no moisture at all. My wife gritted her teeth and thrust her raised buttocks all the way down. With the weight of her body and the lubrication of her saliva, my penis pierced her dry vagina in one go, penetrating directly into her uterus.

"Eek..."

My wife groaned in pain as she lay on top of me; it must have been very painful. Her beautiful eyebrows furrowed, and beneath her tightly pursed lips were clenched teeth.

"You...don't push yourself too hard,"

I said, stroking her hair.

“My thing is big, it will hurt you like this.”

“It’s supposed to hurt.” My

wife forced a smile and said, twisting her slender waist to lift her body, while shaking her hair

. “You’re not comfortable like this.” I said, “Don’t move.”

“Mind your own business.”

My wife said with a hint of anger, gritting her teeth, her face full of stubbornness as she held my body and began to move up and down. The tight, dry walls of her flesh rubbed against my thick penis, the tightness of her vagina felt like my first time with my wife decades ago.

“You can’t do this.”

I reached out and hugged her tightly, not letting her continue. She struggled in my arms for a while before stopping.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

I asked her softly.

She turned her face away, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, sweetie, it’s not your fault, why are you crying?”

I hugged my wife, gently stroking her smooth back, my throbbing penis remaining inside her dry but warm body.

While she was crying, I parted our bodies. I didn't like women making love to me with a dry, tight vagina; the feeling of pulling out was like pulling a stick out of a sand dune.

My wife noticed this. She looked up, her swollen eyes no longer holding the mysterious depth and determination they had before. Tears still streamed down her face, and her nose was red and tingling. We looked at each other for a while, then she slowly rested her head against my chest. I watched her black hair fall in front of me.

"Dad, thank you," my wife said.

"What are you saying? I'm not the kind of person who takes advantage of others in distress,"

I said proudly. But many questions lingered in my mind. Was my hesitation because she was my wife? Or was it because I didn't want to become an accomplice in her self-harm? Or was it because I didn't want to make love to the woman I loved in this situation? I didn't know at all, and I didn't want to know. There were too many taboos involved.

After a long while, I noticed my wife's body was getting heavier and heavier. I nudged her, but found she had already fallen asleep. I gently moved her to the pillow beside me. Tears still clung to her face, and her beautiful, flawless body made my penis stand erect.

I propped my head up with my hand, lying on the bed, watching my wife's naked body again and again from head to toe: her full breasts, her slender waist without any excess fat, her firm buttocks, her long calves, and the dark forest between her snow-white thighs—the place where I had just deeply penetrated.

I sighed, slowly got out of bed, and the TV screen still showed my son's bed, with messy bedding and two naked bodies sleeping intertwined. The woman who should be on the screen was lying on my bed. Go... I looked back at my wife's beautiful naked body, then looked down at my rock-hard penis, sighed again, put on a short-sleeved shirt, and went out to the living room to smoke.

On the coffee table in the living room was the remote control I'd been looking for. Damn it, how could it be here?

I smoked, my mind filled with images of my wife's snow-white naked body and the feeling of being inside her. Damn it, what was I thinking? I pushed away what I had almost obtained.

Why worry about it? I should fuck her, fuck her like my son fucks his sister. I stubbed out my cigarette and started masturbating again, my mind filled with images of me and my daughter-in-law making love, the warmth of her body, her warm, wet vagina, the hot breath from her red lips, the feeling of my hot semen filling her womb.

"Oh..."

I collapsed onto the sofa, my glans throbbing as I ejaculated a large amount of semen, making my hands, thighs, and the sofa sticky.

Even so, the images flying through my mind wouldn't leave.

I smoked another cigarette, tidied up, and went back to the room. I quietly lay down next to my wife. She didn't open her eyes, but moved closer and buried her head in my arms.

The next morning, when I woke up, my wife had disappeared from my arms. I got up and walked around the second floor, but there was no sign of her. I went back to the room and stared blankly at my Qing Dynasty antique bed. She was gone; last night felt like a fleeting dream.

I lay back down on the bed, the delicate fragrance of her body still lingering on my pillow. I shook the blanket, and a long strand of black hair slowly fell down. In the morning sunlight, that strand of hair shimmered like an angel's feather. I stared at that strand of hair until it landed on my blanket.

Since I was a child, I've always dreamed of having my own bed, a big bed where I could stretch out my limbs and roll around.

Maybe it's a bit strange, but that's the truth. Some women like designer handbags, some women like traveling abroad, some women like big kitchens, but me? I like big beds.

Perhaps it's because I never had my own bed until I went to university.

My father passed away when I was young. He was a civil servant. When I was seven, he smiled and said goodbye to my sister and me before heading off to work. His motorcycle was hit by a truck, and from then on, my life was without a father.

My mother raised my sister and me alone. Due to financial difficulties, my sister and I slept in the same room from a young age, in a bunk bed. I slept on the top bunk, and my sister slept on the bottom.

I didn't have my own bed until I left home for university.

Now, I have two large double beds in my home, both of which are mine—one for my husband and me, and one for my father-in-law and me. The former bed once broke my heart, while the latter helped me start anew.

Although the two beds are from different eras and are made differently, they share one thing in common: when my husband and I make love on them, they both creak and groan.

If you call me a promiscuous incestuous woman, I'll admit to incest, but I won't admit to being promiscuous. If having relations with only two men counts as promiscuous, then there are far more promiscuous people in the world than me.

Actually, I think I only fell in love with my husband's father after we got married, and my husband should bear full responsibility for that, since he was the one who slept with my sister first.

That day, I opened my eyes and found myself lying on an old bed. The four bedposts were carved with intricate patterns, and the ceiling was decorated with meticulous paintings of ancient ladies. Was I dreaming? I wondered.

I turned to wake my husband and ask him, only to realize that the arm I was using as a pillow was actually my father-in-law's. I was not only sleeping next to him, but I was also completely naked.

In that brief moment, everything from the previous night flooded my mind. I quickly got up, dressed, and glanced back at my sleeping father-in-law. He was sleeping soundly. He had bought that bed to commemorate his deceased mother-in-law, but she had never slept on it. I, however, was the first woman to sleep on it with my father-in-law.

I turned on the TV in my father-in-law's room. The screen showed my husband and my sister sleeping together, embracing. The morning light streamed through the curtains I'd chosen, bathing my bed in a pinkish glow. The man and woman slept peacefully, looking blissfully happy. But the man was my husband, and the woman was my sister. Tears welled up again. I turned off the TV, went downstairs, got in my car, and drove away.

As I drove, tears streamed down my face. How could they look so happy? That was my bed, my room, my man, and my sister…

How could they be so presumptuous as to think that taking down my wedding photo from above my bed made my room their new home? My sister's words flashed through my mind:

"Sister, your boyfriend is so handsome! I wish I had a boyfriend like that someday." My

sister was only in her first year of high school then, and my then-boyfriend's husband came to visit.

"Don't worry, you're so beautiful, your future boyfriend will definitely be even better,"

I remember replying then.

"No, I love my sister. If I marry someone else, it won't be easy for us to see each other anymore. So let's both marry your husbands,"

my younger sister said, blinking at me.

Because my father died early, only my mother was responsible for the family income. I've always taken care of my sister, who is six years younger than me, so she's always been very attached to me. At the time, I thought she was just joking, but now I wonder if she deliberately got into a university close to our home to seduce my husband?

I don't know. My mind is spinning. How did my family become like this? I'm driving alone, but I don't know where to go. Going home—is that still my home? Is there any place for me anymore? I want to go back to my parents' house, but how can I tell my mother that my sister stole my husband?

I don't know, I really don't know. The car drove all the way to the sea, and I stopped on the road by the windbreak forest. Looking at the sea, I suddenly had a strong urge to drink, so I bought a few cans of vodka, parked the car in the windbreak forest, and started chugging it down. The vodka was very strong, but I didn't mind at all. I just wanted to get drunk and forget all about it. I gulped down the fiery vodka, and with my frantic drinking, I

finally passed out on the steering wheel. In my dream, I dreamt that my husband and I were making love. We were making love very intensely. The large, old bed was creaking loudly and shaking up and down. I was shouting out lewd moans and groans that I had never uttered before. My husband's penis was thrusting and pounding inside me, until finally his hot semen filled my uterus. I was convulsing all over, and my vagina was also gripping his thick penis, trying to squeeze out his semen. When we separated, I was still feeling the satisfaction of an orgasm.

After a while, I turned my head, wanting to snuggle into my husband's arms, but then I suddenly realized that the man lying next to me was actually my father-in-law. I screamed in fright, and suddenly I was completely sober.

"Knock, knock, knock," came a knocking sound on the car window.

I turned to look and saw a young policeman; his police motorcycle was parked nearby.

I rolled down the window, but as soon as the sea breeze hit me, I immediately vomited. The vomiting was uncontrollable, covering my clothes and the car with a sour, foul-smelling mixture of stomach acid and alcohol. After vomiting for a while, I slumped into the seat, panting.

The policeman frowned and said,

"Miss, you're way too drunk. You can't drive like this."

I nodded. My head was throbbing; I couldn't even walk properly, let alone drive.

"Do you have a home phone? I'll call your family to pick you up," the policeman kindly asked.

So I gave him my home phone number, and he made the call for me. It was my father-in-law on the other end.

"Hey, where are you? I can't find you anywhere. I've called your cell phone several times, but you didn't answer. Why is it the police calling? What's wrong?" my father-in-law asked with concern.

Hearing his concerned voice warmed my heart, followed by a pang of sorrow, and tears welled up again.

"I...I'm drunk, and I'm..."

I looked at the policeman. I really didn't know where I was.

The policeman took the phone and said to my father-in-law, "Hello, this is a policeman from XX Police Station. Your young lady is drunk and has vomited all over the car. Do you want to come and pick her up? Drive along XX Road..."

The policeman then explained the location to my father-in-law. Then he handed the phone back to me.

"It's okay, I'll come pick you up right now. Just drive to the police station and wait for me there. I'll be right there."

My father-in-law comforted me on the other end of the phone as if he were comforting his daughter, so I went back to the police station with the policeman.

"Oh dear, oh dear, what happened to you?"

My father-in-law said with concern when he saw that I reeked of alcohol and stomach acid. "Go home quickly and take a shower, I'll change your clothes."

"Okay,"

I replied, and as I was about to stand up, I felt dizzy again. My father-in-law didn't mind the dirt and quickly helped me up.

"Thank you, thank you."

My father-in-law gave the two boxes of tea he brought to the police station, and while helping me walk, he kept thanking the police.

I sat in my father-in-law's car, and I arrived home in a daze. When it was time to climb the stairs, my father-in-law simply carried me on his back.

"Go take a shower."

My father-in-law carried me to the bathroom door on the second floor and put me down

. "Take a shower to clear your head, I'll go upstairs and get you some clothes."

I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, tested the water temperature, and rinsed myself off, trying to forget some things. So much had happened that day. First, I discovered that my husband and sister were having an affair, then there was what happened in my father-in-law's room last night. It was the first time in my life that I had gotten so drunk.

Sigh, what's wrong with my life? In this situation, only my father-in-law is with me. Life really is unpredictable.

There was a knock at the door. "I brought your clothes."

I opened the door and peeked out. When he saw me, he blushed and stood there dumbfounded, holding my clothes.

"Dad, the clothes,"

I said. His face turned even redder, and he quickly handed me the clothes.

I could clearly see his sweatpants bulging high.

He obviously noticed it too, and quickly turned and left.

His action amused me. After showering and turning off the tap, I heard music outside. My father-in-law was singing karaoke. Hearing his voice eased my frustration a little. He loves karaoke, and he's quite good at it.

He was singing Jiang Hui's new song, a duet.

"The sweet words in my dream—are they real or fake? No matter how the wind and rain blow, I still can't wake up. The words of advice in my dream, though only a few, warm my heart. I really want to cherish them with all my heart."

At this moment, I thought of the night I slept in my father-in-law's arms, and then I thought of the scene of my father-in-law blushing just now. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but smile. Although my father-in-law is over fifty years old, his expression just now was just like that of a young boy who had just fallen in love.

But his penis is very large, not at all smaller than my husband's. It seems that father and son really do have a genetic predisposition.

I dried myself off and put on the light blue matching underwear set my father-in-law had brought me. He has a good eye for choosing underwear; this is my favorite set because it not only supports my bust perfectly but is also very comfortable.

The matching set was another favorite: a beige, deep V-neck, three-quarter-sleeve knit top paired with a fitted, knee-length black A-line skirt. The skirt had a side slit that went up to my thigh. It wasn't very expensive, but it looked good and allowed for easy movement.

I went to the living room, and my father-in-law was still singing, mimicking the female vocals. I laughed; the scene was absolutely hilarious. You can imagine a fifty-something-year-old man in front of the TV, mimicking Jiang Hui's singing in a high-pitched voice. But my father-in-law wasn't just mimicking the voice; he was mimicking the expressions too. How to describe it? Let's put it this way: imagine an old dog trying to meow like a cat.

"What are you laughing at?" my father-in-law asked, his face flushed.

"Nothing, you sang very well," I said, laughing so hard I bent over, half-squatting on the floor.

“Nonsense,” my father-in-law said a little embarrassedly, as he continued singing the male part.

I watched him sing earnestly; his male version of A-Du's song was quite nice. After finishing the male part, he didn't sing the female part this time, pausing there, probably afraid I'd laugh at him. Then he turned around and tossed the microphone to me, saying,

“Here you go sing, you're a woman.”

“I can't sing,” I waved my hand in refusal.

“Nonsense, how could you, as a tour guide, not know it?” my father-in-law said.

Seeing his expectant look, I had no choice but to pick up the microphone and continue singing. Of course, I knew this song; it was a popular karaoke song.

“Love words in dreams~ are they real, not fake? Although dreams are short, I will love you forever, without regret. Words of vows in dreams, a promise of eternal love, I hope you will remember them in your heart. I will accompany you with my true heart.”

My father-in-law nodded, picked up another microphone, and continued singing. I sang along. The part where the male and female parts were mixed was quite difficult, but my father-in-law sang it quite well.

"Thank you for your honesty, giving me a chance to start over. I've tasted the bitterness of first love, and I've tried to calm down and be thorough with my feelings. Only our love was beautiful, so let fate arrange everything. Thank you, God, for giving us this opportunity to love each other."

As I sang the last line, my father-in-law looked at me, his face flushed, his eyes gleaming with a strange light. But as soon as his eyes met mine, he immediately looked away .

My heart skipped a beat. My father-in-law liked me, and liked me very much.

"Are you tired? It's still early, go and get some sleep,"

he said, but he still didn't dare to look at me.

"Okay,"

I replied casually, and as I was about to go upstairs, I suddenly thought of the image of my husband and my sister on that bed. Which bed should I sleep in? I glanced back at my father-in-law, who was staring at me intently.

"Dad, what are you looking at?"

I asked this honest man with a smile, having made a decision in my heart.

"Nothing... nothing,"

my father-in-law replied hastily.

"I think you're very beautiful."

His head drooped even lower.

I laughed and deliberately walked up to him, knowing that my deep V-neck top would expose my entire breasts to my father-in-law's downcast eyes in this situation.

"What's so pretty about me?" I asked.

My father-in-law quickly raised his head, our eyes less than half a foot apart. He groaned, but didn't look away.

"Everything...everything is pretty," he replied, swallowing hard.

"Really?"

I twirled in front of him, secretly enjoying the thrill of mesmerizing him.

"You have a good eye for clothes. I really like this outfit."

"Yes, actually, you're pretty, you look good in anything,"

my father-in-law said, his eyes still involuntarily fixed on my white chest.

"Don't you think the slit in this skirt is quite nice?"

I stretched out my leg, pulling the already high slit even higher.

"Yes, it is quite nice."

My father-in-law stared intently at my inner thighs, not only swallowing hard but also smacking his lips.

"It's a pity you're not wearing pantyhose, it would look even better."

I bent down and ran my hand up my thigh .

"What color pantyhose do you think would suit you best?"

"The color doesn't matter, the kind with straps would be the best."

My father-in-law seemed to regret his words afterward. I looked up, glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, and said, "Then I'll wear them for you next time. Okay, I can sleep in your bed." I slowly walked towards my father-in-law's room, very slowly, hoping to be held tightly in my arms. I walked slowly into his room, but I was disappointed. My father-in-law didn't chase after me to hug me. I walked to the old dressing table in the room. Had I overestimated my charm? Just then, a strong arm grabbed me from behind, one hand tightly encircling my waist, and lips kissed my neck. "Dad, what are you doing?" I feigned a struggle, but my father-in-law tightened his grip on me. "I love you. Ever since you married into our family, I've often thought about being with you," he said urgently, his hand quickly slipping inside my collar and grasping my breast. His other hand then moved from under my high-slit skirt down to my vulva. "Really? Then why didn't you make love to me last night?" I twisted my body, my father-in-law's assault was too stimulating; his thick penis was pressed against my buttocks, and even through my clothes, I could feel his throbbing desire. "Yesterday was different," he said, pulling down my bra and pulling my breasts out of my clothes, pinching and playing with my sensitive nipples. He also lifted my skirt from behind, revealing my light blue, semi-transparent panties. "Oh... Dad..." I moaned, spreading my legs to match his movements. “I’m going to fuck you to death,” my father-in-law said urgently, his eyes gleaming with a strange light. “I’ve regretted it since last night. I want to be with you, I don’t care about anything else.” “You…” I didn’t expect my father-in-law to say that, but before I could think any further, my panties had been pulled down to my thighs. His rough fingers parted my labia and quickly found my clitoris. I moaned even louder. My father-in-law’s body pressed down on me from behind, forcing me to bend over and brace myself on the dressing table. In the mirror of the dressing table, I saw my breasts being kneaded by my father-in-law. Under his gentle, sometimes light, sometimes firm kneading, my nipples soon became engorged and erect. My father-in-law licked my earlobe and whispered in my ear, “I’ve wanted to see your two big tits for so long.” As he spoke, he inserted his fingers into my vagina. His rough fingers skillfully teased my vulva and clitoris, making my body heat up quickly. Every time his fingers penetrated deeper, I felt them tightly wrapped around my flesh, waves of pleasure emanating from where we touched. The squelching sounds of his fingers accompanied the movements, and I knew my juices were flowing freely. "Dad, I'm your daughter-in-law," I asked. Had my father-in-law already decided to betray his son?

"So what? I don't care if you go to hell," my father-in-law said loudly. I felt a burning sensation on my labia; his tip had already pressed against me, penetrating my body. The burning sensation continued to penetrate the depths of my desire. My sensitive honey hole and my father-in-law's thick penis were pressed tightly together, the feeling like fire shooting up my spine to my head. Finally, when that hot tip touched my uterine wall, I couldn't help but groan.

"Oh... Dad, you've reached the very end." My father-in-law's penis completely filled my vagina. This feeling was incredibly comfortable, and I couldn't help but sigh.

"This is where we're connected. Feel it; you're so wet." My father-in-law pulled my hand towards our point of contact. I touched my labia and his penis; the amount of vaginal fluid was indeed extraordinary, and this action intensified my sensations.

"It's all your fault... ah..." I protested to my father-in-law, but he thrust forward. I held onto the vanity table with one hand as his huge penis pounded into my most sensitive spot. I held onto the table, letting his hot penis pierce my body.

"I... I what... Is it good... um..." My father-in-law asked as he pounded into me like a madman, not at all like someone in his fifties. The violent force made the vanity table creak and groan. Under his rough force, I could only press my face against the cool mirror, letting my round buttocks clearly feel the impact from my father-in-law's pubic bone.

"Good... good... oh... so deep... ah... you're killing your daughter-in-law... ah..." I groaned. My father-in-law's glans continued to slam hard against my clitoris, again and again. The intense pleasure made my whole body go numb, and my head felt like it was being struck by lightning, flashing through my mind with each thrust.

"You're not my daughter-in-law, you...you're my wife, I want you to be my wife...wife..." My father-in-law panted, sweat rolling down his wrinkled face.

"Yes...yes...husband...husband...you're so amazing...ah...ah...I can't take it anymore...ah...I'm going to break." Under my father-in-law's seemingly endless thrusting, my body began to convulse, every hair on my body stood on end, and my juices flowed like a burst dam from my thighs down to my ankles. The peak of pleasure surged through me with each thrust, making me feel like I was flying. My mind was blank except for the intense pleasure; the only sensation left was the feeling of my father-in-law's penis rubbing against my vagina.

"I...I'm going to cum...I can't hold back..." my father-in-law growled.

"Cum...Cum inside...Ah...Ah..." I cried out wildly.

With our passionate cries, my father-in-law's thick penis thrust straight into my uterus. His glans trembled, and hot semen shot violently into my uterus. My pleasure instantly reached its peak. I thrust my round, upturned buttocks back, making our genitals tightly connected. My father-in-law also held me tightly. The terrifying pleasure made my vision go black. As my consciousness gradually faded, my father-in-law's hot penis was still deeply inserted into my body.

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