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"Reaching Under Mom's Skirt" by zhinanwangbei 

"Penetrating My Mother's Skirt" by zhinanwangbei,
Chapter 1 (Part 1) :
My mother is 37 years old and works in administration at a school. Her face isn't particularly beautiful, but it's certainly not ugly; she gives off a very comfortable feeling. Because she takes good care of herself, her skin is quite fair, and her breasts are of moderate size—not exactly busty, but barely covering them with one hand. Her most prominent feature is her round, perky buttocks. When she wears a business suit, her pants are stretched taut, and remarkably, unlike many middle-aged women, they don't sag but remain firm and perky like a young woman's.
Initially, I had no incestuous thoughts. Although I have a thing for mature women, I didn't think in that direction. But one day a year ago, my mother came to my classroom. That day, she was wearing a tennis outfit—a light yellow short-sleeved top and a matching short skirt.
After returning to the classroom, my deskmate said to me, "Who's that?" I didn't want others to know that my mother worked at the school, so I said a teacher asked me to handle my application for joining the Youth League.
He said, "Hey, that butt is huge, almost as big as our English teacher's." Our English teacher is over forty, but you can still tell she must have been a beauty when she was young. She often wears long skirts, and we all fantasize that it's because her butt is so big that she can't fit into her pants. We all talk about how to get with our English teacher every day. I casually replied, "Get lost," and suddenly started comparing my mom to our English teacher. With a fantasy in mind, I thought about my mom's big butt, and I immediately got hard.
After finishing evening self-study and returning home, my mom was taking a shower, and my dad was still away on a business trip. I ate my meal absentmindedly, wondering what my mom looked like in the bathroom next door. While I was eating, my mom came out of the shower wearing a bathrobe and lay on the sofa watching TV. The loose bathrobe didn't hide my mom's figure, and I got hard again.
After finishing my meal, I said to my mom, "Mom, let me give you a massage, so you can experience my skills."
My mom joked, "Did you do something wrong? Why are you being so attentive?" As she spoke, she leaned over on the sofa.
I went over and sat on the sofa, saying, "You're really wronging me. It's only right to serve a beautiful woman."
My mom and I both laughed.
First, I massaged her shoulders and back. After a while, my hands moved down, gently massaging her round, shapely thighs. While she was engrossed in watching TV, I subtly lifted a corner of her towel and discovered she was wearing white panties, taut by her round, plump buttocks, with a dark shadow at the base of her slightly parted thighs. My heart raced; I almost fainted.
I put the towel down, calmed myself, and casually massaged her fleshy buttocks. Before I could even finish a couple of massages, she wriggled her hips and said, "Stop massaging! You're giving your mom a massage and then taking advantage of her!"
I said, "A massage helps shape your buttocks."
She sat up and said, "Go to sleep! You're so quick-witted."
For the next while, I read some books about massage techniques and massaged my mom whenever I had the chance, taking advantage of her as well.
Gradually, Mom became less averse to me touching her buttocks during massages, but she only did it through a towel or blanket, leaving me itchy and helpless. Until one day, I finally had my chance.
It was a Saturday, and Dad was out of town again. When I went for my morning run, I saw a sign at the entrance of our complex saying there would be a power outage for maintenance that night. I didn't pay much attention at first, but on my way home, an idea came to me. Since our area is known as an "furnace," it gets very hot in early June, so we basically have to keep the air conditioning on.
When I got home, I suggested to Mom that we go to my classmate's tennis club around 4 pm when it was cooler. Mom agreed. My thought was that while playing, I could look at Mom's figure, and while playing, I'd fantasize that after the game, Mom would be very tired, take a shower, and then I'd massage her until she dozed off, and then I could enjoy her. Touching her buttocks would be a piece of cake; maybe I'd even have a chance to caress and taste her vagina and anus.
What? You say it's disgusting? I have to mention this: my mom has a slight case of OCD. If she's going to work, she'll wash twice a day in this kind of weather, and she changes her underwear daily. I think she's much cleaner than many girls.
That morning, I was sitting in front of my computer in my room, daydreaming, occasionally letting out a creepy smile and swallowing sounds.
However, the weather turned against me; it suddenly became cloudy in the afternoon. It's quite cool here when it rains, but, and I must say, the cloudy weather before the rain is absolutely awful—sultry, humid, scorching hot—basically, all kinds of heat. So, I figured my afternoon basketball game and my daydreaming were just gone. That afternoon and dinner, in the sweltering heat, I had a very depressing time.
After dinner, unsurprisingly, the power went out a while later.
I played on my phone for a while, and Mom said, "Go take a shower. The air conditioning's off, it'll be cooler after you shower."
After I finished, Mom went in to shower too. I turned on my iPad, and the moment it booted up, a great idea appeared.
Mom came out wearing a towel after her shower, and I said, "Welcome, Ms. X. Massage therapist number one is at your service now."
Mom smiled and said, "You little rascal, you're not learning anything good." Then she lay on the sofa and watched a movie on her iPad.
It was a movie I had carefully selected and treasured before, "The Reader." As an Oscar-worthy sex film, I admit that the first time I watched it, I had my head up for an hour in one part.
I massaged my mother's beautiful legs for a while. In the sweltering heat, sweat beaded on her forehead. With a mix of trepidation and excitement, I said to her, "Take off your yukata, it's so hot."
She hesitated for a moment, then said, "It's not that hot."
A little while later, as it was getting dark outside, and the heat was difficult to dissipate from the room, she asked me to get a fan. I said, "Why don't you take off your yukata? Look, I'm just wearing shorts, I'm not hot at all."
My mother sat up and took off her yukata. In the dim light from the window and the iPad screen, I saw that she was wearing a pink bra and matching underwear.
After she lay down, I realized the underwear was a bit small, only covering her buttocks and the surrounding area, leaving most of her white buttocks exposed. That's when I understood why she hadn't wanted to take off her yukata earlier—it was so bright outside, and the underwear was so revealing. If it hadn't been so sweltering, she probably wouldn't have taken it off.
I gently kneaded and massaged my mother's legs from her ankles upwards. Her long, shapely legs were so perfect, and I began to truly fall for her. When I touched her buttocks, she trembled slightly, but she didn't say anything. I started to intimately caress her full buttocks.
Touching them through her bathrobe and touching them with my own hands were completely different experiences. The smooth skin and elasticity of her buttocks made my hands feel incredibly good, while my penis was filled with envy. I gently squeezed my mother's buttocks into various shapes.
Then, the movie scene caught my attention—yes, it was that R-rated scene. A naive young man, a beautiful mature woman, long legs, large breasts, passionate lovemaking, earth-shaking... After this scene, I found my hands covering my mother's buttocks, motionless. The air was thick with an ambiguous atmosphere. My mother's posture was stiff. I casually said, "Mom, your figure is much better than that woman's."
I heard my mother take a deep breath and smile casually, saying, "Is that so? I'm getting old."
"No, Mom isn't old at all. Her skin is better than most girls'."
Mom glanced back at me after hearing this, and I continued massaging her, this time with more caressing.
During another emotional climax, I couldn't resist anymore and openly began to pinch Mom's shoulder with my right hand while slowly stroking her plump buttocks with my left, from the left cheek to the right, feeling the elasticity of her buttocks and the allure of the cleft. After about
two or three times, my head was spinning. I lowered my head and sniffed the cleft of Mom's underwear. The scent of her shower gel mixed with a peculiar smell, that primal aroma, stimulated me to kiss her buttock cleft. Mom suddenly turned her head and said, "What are you doing?"
I hesitated for a moment and said I was sleepy and would lie down and take a nap. Mom said to go to the bedroom, but I said it was cooler in the living room, and I should watch a movie and not worry about me. Mom seemed to say something but didn't, and went to watch the movie.
I lay on Mom's buttocks and carefully asked her what they smelled like. After a while, Mom got tired of lying down and started watching from her side, so I didn't get a chance. But this experience strengthened my resolve to win Mom's heart.
It rained all night that night, and the next day it was much cooler. When I got up, I noticed a subtle change in the atmosphere between Mom and me after the previous night's ambiguous moment. Mom was wearing cropped jeans, and when she went out to say hello, I jokingly patted her bottom and said I was leaving. Mom actually said naturally, "Come back early."
Sensing this change, after my run, I went to the flower shop at the entrance of the neighborhood and bought a small bouquet of roses. When I got home, Mom had already prepared dinner and was watching TV in the living room. When she saw me come back, she said, "What are you doing with your hands behind your back? Go wash your hands."
I jumped down, knelt on one knee, placed the roses in front of Mom, and said, "Darling, I love you so much."
Mom was surprised and said, "You're so generous with money at such a young age. If you spend like this again, I'll reduce your allowance." But I still saw a hint of a smile in the corner of her eyes.
From then on, my mom and I started having intimate gestures like lovers, such as patting her bottom, pinching her bottom, rubbing her bottom, or suddenly appearing from behind and hugging her. Although I inevitably got scolded, it didn't matter; taking advantage of her was the key. When riding the bus, if my mom was sleepy, I would smoothly put my arm around her shoulder and let her lean on my shoulder to sleep, and she wouldn't refuse even in her drowsy state.
My mom and I also developed a tacit understanding: whenever my dad wasn't around, my mom would let me massage her after taking a shower, but she rarely wore only underwear; she mostly wore a bathrobe.
Slowly, summer vacation arrived, and the first Wednesday was my mom's birthday. I bought a set of black VS underwear online in advance. Putting aside the bra, the thong made me want to see what my mom would look like wearing it the moment I saw it. At that time, the students had already gone on vacation, but the teachers had to stay at school for an extra week to grade papers, hold meetings, and summarize things. July is also the time when companies prepare their semi-annual reports, and my dad was also very busy, so he just called to wish my mom a happy birthday.
Mom seemed a bit distracted this morning and at noon, and she was somewhat unresponsive when I spoke to her. I knew she was waiting for me to wish her a happy birthday, but unfortunately, the surprise was in the evening. As soon as Mom left for work in the afternoon, I got to work. First, I tidied up the house thoroughly, rearranging the large items in the living room according to my plan. Then I went out and bought candles, flowers, the ordered cake, ingredients for two dishes I've been making since I was four, and that seemingly harmless, fruit-flavored red wine that easily makes women let their guard down and get drunk.
After returning home, I timed everything perfectly, busied myself with preparations, and then, excitedly, I locked the door and waited for Mom.
The sound of the key turning filled the air. While frantically lighting the candles, I asked, "Who is it? If it's Dad, I'll be devastated.
" Mom said, "It's me. Why can't I open the door?"
I said, "Wait a minute, I'm taking a shower."
Mom said, "Why did you lock the door while showering?"
I said, "I'm afraid someone will come in and spy on me."
Mom said, "Who's watching you?"
I opened the door and said, "Look!"
I arranged 36 red candles into the shape of a heart and placed them by the door. The curtains were drawn. The living room contained only a round table and two chairs. Thirty-six bouquets of roses, arranged in oddly shaped "Happy Birthday" signs, lay on the floor. On the table was a birthday cake, a pink box (full of my fantasies about VC underwear…), four dishes, and two bottles of wine. I said, "Mom, Happy Birthday." The
undisguised smile on Mom's face, combined with her suit dress, made me want to pull her to the table.
Mom asked, "What's in the box?"
I said, "I'll show you after dinner."
I poured the wine, pulled out my prepared n toasts, and began my attack on Mom. My mother clearly hadn't seen through my intentions. Like the US attacking Iraq, I quickly finished both bottles of wine with her. By the last glass, we were both a little tipsy.
I looked at my mother and said, "I love you forever," then downed my drink. My mother finished hers too. There wasn't much food prepared, because there was still cake.
After dinner, I opened the cake, cut it, and gave it to my mother. I asked, "Mom, how is it? Is it good?" My
mother seemed unaccustomed to this kind of attack; she quickly drank more than a bottle of red wine—no matter how good the wine was, it was still wine. Her voice was somewhat seductive as she said, "It's delicious."
I put my left arm around my mother and smeared cake on her face with my right. Mom yelled "Ah!" and tried to run away, but I wouldn't let her.
So we started a cake-fighting battle. During the fight, my right hand accidentally brushed against her butt crack through her short skirt. Before I could even feel it, Mom hit me with cake. A few minutes later, we finished the cake. We sat facing each other, laughing at each other's antics. After a while
, I said, "Mom, I want more cake."
Mom said, "How can you eat it when there's none left?"
I went over and pretended to be cute, hugging Mom's head and saying, "You still have some on your face."
Mom laughed and said, "Eat it." She didn't expect me to actually bend down and lick the cake off her face. Mom said, You go take a shower, I'll clean up here. "
I responded and let my mother go to take a bath. After the bath, my mother had cleaned the living room. I took the box containing the underwear and said, "Mom, this is your gift."
Mom said, "What? It's so mysterious." "
I said: "Go take a shower, and then you will be surprised when you open it. "
My mother took the shower and took a bath.
I pushed the sofa into the living room, moved everything back far, and sat on the sofa to caress my mother. She came to me wearing black underwear, walking catwalks, and winking at me, then sat on my lap, and then... my mother came out, but unfortunately she was still wearing a bathrobe.
I said, "Have you opened the gift yet? "
(Note that I didn't say the word "mother", I wanted a sense of equality and majesty.)
She said: "Open it. "
I said: "Have you put it on? "
My mother looked at me without saying anything. I knew that this foreign brand of red wine still had some power. I said, "Mom, come here and let me massage you." "
My mother came over as usual. I grabbed my mother and took off her bath towel. She was wearing the underwear I bought inside.
My mother said nervously: "What are you doing? "
I pouted and said, "I just want to see."
Then I gently pulled my mother to lie on the sofa as usual, and she blushed and complied.
Under the dim light of the living room lamp, I finally got my wish and could openly see my mother's body, even though it was from behind, even though she was wearing underwear... Only a black bra strap covered her fair back. As usual, I began to massage her. The scent of flowers and wine added to the ambiguous atmosphere, making both my mother and me tremble slightly. That temptation, I didn't know where it would lead, how to proceed, how to face it, making the temptation itself a temptation. Okay, whatever, I'll follow my feelings, whatever happens.
I gently rubbed the snow-white skin on my mother's back, gradually moving downwards, slowly reaching her waist. I had never known what "a handful" meant before, but today I finally understood. Here, my right hand couldn't help but caress, gently tracing my mother's waist. My mind began to wander with tangled fantasies, imagining how alluring her serpentine waist would be when it swayed.
My mother's body stopped trembling, as if she was anticipating my hand.
Finally, I brushed past the black t-shirt. My mother's waist and buttocks had a captivating curve; her pert bottom would make countless self-proclaimed beautiful girls envious. I gently placed my left hand on my mother's waist, while my right hand slowly caressed her buttocks, from left to right. My mother's two white, pert buttocks were at my mercy.
I didn't stop; that beautiful cleft was there, and I wanted to savor it slowly.
I continued to caress my mother's feet. Her small toes twitched under my touch, giving me the urge to suckle them. I gently kissed my mother's toes, then slowly kissed upwards along the instep of her right foot, finally reaching my mother's buttocks, which I had longed for. I couldn't resist any longer. I grabbed my mother's hips with both hands and vigorously licked her buttocks. My mother's legs tensed; I knew she was getting nervous. After kissing for a while, I used both hands to try to spread her buttocks apart.
I froze, staring at my mother's beautiful, deep cleft, the thin black band revealing her beautiful, dark red anus. Her delicate chrysanthemum was exposed before my eyes. At that moment, I felt an urge to cry. After thinking about it for so long, I had finally seen it. I lowered my head, wanting to properly admire my mother's anus.
My face was pressed against her buttocks, and I gently breathed on her anus.
My mother let out a soft breath, which gave me the final courage. I frantically spread my mother's buttocks apart, kissing her anus and cleft with all my might. The fragrance of the shower gel completely masked its inherent odor. At that moment, I had a vulgar thought of my mother vigorously washing her anus with shower gel. Her tight anus and continuous sighs fueled my madness.
I kicked off my slippers, climbed onto the sofa, and, like in an adult film, straddled my mother, kissing her cleft with all my might. My mother tried to cover her private parts with her hands, saying it was dirty. I shoved her hands away and indulged myself even more forcefully. Most of the time, I'm an ordinary person, confused. But in that blissful moment, I suddenly understood and had an epiphany. I clearly understood what my mother's bottom line was and what I should do next. And reality proved me right.
I got up and hugged my mother, turning her over while kissing her lips. My mother tried to push me away, but I knew it was just a gesture and ignored it. After a while, my mother parted her lips and began to respond. I kissed her lips, sucking on her saliva, our tongues intertwining. My mother's breathing became heavy. I released my hands from her head, kissing her as I carried her to my bedroom. Once
inside, I closed the door with my foot. The curtains were already drawn. My mother and I began rolling around on the bed, kissing. I kneaded her breasts with my right hand and roamed her back with my left. My mother made a muffled sound. I released my mother's mouth and started kissing her face. I unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, then hugged her tightly, feeling the soft warmth of her breasts. In the intense friction, I actually felt an urge to ejaculate. I thought to myself, "Damn it."
Then I released my mother, ceasing all physical contact with her genitals, and started kissing her breasts, taking her nipple into my mouth, slowly swirling and sucking it with my tongue. My mother relaxed, gently pressing my head against her breast. I placed my hand on the base of her thighs, using my fingers to part her legs slightly, and continued deeper, slowly caressing her genitals through a thin layer of her panties with my middle finger. After a while, I slipped my finger inside her panties, gently exploring.
Finally, I found it—the entrance to her warm, wet vagina. I rubbed back and forth at the entrance, and my mother finally began to moan softly. I got so excited I almost ejaculated again. I thought, "I can't take this anymore." I took off my underwear, let my mother hold my penis, then rolled over and did a 69 position, spreading her legs apart and holding them down with my hands. I started kissing her vulva through her underwear; the slightly pungent smell aroused me even more. I guided her hand to stroke my penis a couple of times.
Then I released her, and her soft hand obediently began to stroke it. I rolled her underwear to one side and licked her vulva. Her vaginal fluids increased, and I stuck my tongue inside, licking her warm, moist flesh. My mother moaned.
I sat up and inserted my right index finger, stirring it around for a while. Then I told my mother to lift her buttocks. She lifted them, and I found her anus, gently squeezing my wet index finger inside. My mother twisted her buttocks, trying to escape, but I said, "Don't move," and she let me in.
Then I inserted my thumb into her vagina, giving my mother's anus and vagina a double stimulation. It was the first time I'd seen my mother's alluring appearance, her eyes closed and mouth slightly open, moaning. The stimulation from her little hand was already too much for me to handle. I told my mother to spit on it, and she leaned down and dripped saliva onto my glans. Stimulated, I said, "Mom, give me a kiss and I'm about to cum."
My mother stuck out her tongue and licked my glans a few times. I held her head and made her stick her tongue out at my penis, while I used one hand to forcefully dig into her vagina and anus. Then I ejaculated on my mother's face, and some even landed on her tongue. The extreme physical and psychological pleasure made my mind go blank for a moment. At that moment, I only had one feeling—it felt so good!
From the beginning, I knew my mother would definitely not agree to incest, but I thought that in that situation she would agree to everything except penetration. If I strongly insisted on penetration, my mother would probably slap me twice, and I couldn't force myself on her, so this was the best outcome I could achieve. Later, when I asked my mother, she said the same thing. Will Mom ever willingly make love to me one day, letting me put my penis inside her vagina? I don't know, maybe never, maybe today.
Right now, Mom is lying on the sofa wearing a super seductive short skirt, watching me write this. Okay, let me ask.
"Mom, can we make love today?"
I put my hand inside Mom's short skirt.
Chapter 2 (Part 2)
Let's go back to that night last year.
After the madness, Mom was silent for a while before letting me go back to my room to sleep. Satisfied, I didn't realize the loneliness in Mom's tone and went to the bathroom to wash my genitals before going back to my room.
The next day, after I got up and ate breakfast, I wanted to joke around with Mom again and maybe even take advantage of her, but Mom? She returned to her usual solemnity, which scared me away, but I didn't take it to heart, thinking that Mom wasn't feeling well.
Since I'm a day student and don't have to attend evening self-study, after class in the afternoon, I went home, ate dinner, and lay on the sofa watching TV. After Mom finished tidying up, she went to take a shower. I was still fantasizing on the sofa that Mom would walk over shyly in sexy underwear like yesterday, sticking out her buttocks for me to caress. I also remembered the intimacy with Mom last night and her beautiful body, and I got an erection again.
Waiting always feels long. Einstein said that time seems to drag when sitting with a man, but flies by when sitting with a beautiful woman—that's relativity. I flipped through all the TV channels, mentally picturing my mother's entire body, but she was still in the bathroom. I checked my watch and realized something was wrong. It wasn't relativity of waiting after all. My mother used to finish showering in about ten minutes, maybe twenty at most, but now it's been half an hour, and she still hasn't come out. Could something have happened?
I sat up abruptly and called towards the bathroom, "Mom, are you there?"
There was no answer. My heart sank. Without even putting on my shoes, I ran to the bathroom door and pounded on it, shouting, "Mom, are you there?"
Then my mother's voice came through: "What are you doing? I'm just taking a shower, why are you making such a fuss?"
I breathed a sigh of relief. At least nothing happened. I said, "You've been showering for so long, I thought something had happened to you."
My mother replied, "Watch your TV."
I happily went back to the living room to watch TV, patiently waiting for my mother to come out. After a while, she came out. I turned around and saw that she was still wearing the same bathrobe as yesterday, and I was secretly pleased. Unexpectedly, she went straight back to her room.
I said to her, "Give me a massage, Mom."
My mother didn't even turn her head, and said indifferently, "I'm sleepy, I'm going to sleep. You've been studying all day, you must be tired too. You don't need massages anymore, have fun."
I wanted to say I wasn't tired, but I knew this was just an excuse. Women might use many strange and even flimsy reasons to reject men. Some are just being deliberately coquettish, while others are genuinely just too lazy to bother with you.
My mother's somewhat distant tone reminded me that this was the latter. Only then did I realize that from last night to tonight, my mother's attitude towards me had become noticeably distant, but I was still immersed in my own fantasies and hadn't noticed. My mother, after all, couldn't act as recklessly as a middle school student like me, and could this kind of drunken indulgence really continue indefinitely? Lust isn't everything in life; sexual pleasure might require genuine love and intimacy, especially since I hadn't even truly satisfied my mother's desires. Thinking of this, I sank into a deep chill.
From that day on, my relationship with my mother returned to what it was before, with a slight added awkwardness. But my busy father didn't notice and continued with his usual work and life. After sensing my mother's coldness, I initially remained desperately hopeful, stubbornly wishing that she would return to that night.
After a while, I truly succumbed to despair, seemingly losing interest in everything—basketball, games—things that used to tempt me so much now I wouldn't even glance at them. After a while of this aimless existence, I started looking for things to distract myself. It was nearing the end of the semester, and the atmosphere in class was becoming more focused on studying.
One day, after waking up in class, I saw everyone listening attentively and thought, "I'll study then." For the next month, I was like a different person. I got up at 5 a.m. every day to start memorizing, and instead of playing ball or going online with my classmates at noon, I quietly studied in the classroom. Every night, I studied until I couldn't keep my eyes open before finally going to sleep.
My friends said I had changed, but I knew I just wanted to cut ties with the past, to stop thinking about my mother. I started to fear emptiness and loneliness, forcibly bringing studying into my mind to drive away memories of that night.
After the final exams, summer vacation began. This was probably the last time we could have fun in high school; after the semester started, we would be seniors. For the first few days, my friends and I spent all our time at the pool hall, internet cafe, and basketball court. I deliberately reduced the time I spent at home, trying to avoid the awkwardness of being with my mother.
One afternoon, while I was playing pool with my classmates, my dad called, sounding very happy. He told me to come home for dinner with some of my main teachers that evening. When I got home, I learned that my homeroom teacher knew my dad. I had ranked fifth in my grade, which was practically a guarantee of admission to a top university in our school, so my teacher had told my dad. Since my dad was off that day, he was treating the teachers to dinner.
At the table, the teachers and my parents were exchanging compliments. I just kept my head down and ate, stealing glances at my mom a few times. Once, she was looking at me too, and I quickly looked down, but I still saw the love in her eyes. My mom must have been proud too. After dinner, my dad asked me to get some gifts from the car and give them to the teachers. I drove home; my dad was clearly a bit drunk, so I didn't dare let him drive.
On the way, my dad asked me what my plans were for the summer vacation. I said I didn't have any.
He suggested we go on a trip together, since the next school year would be a crucial year for preparing for the college entrance exam. I said I had no objections, and my mom agreed. After returning home, we discussed our travel itinerary. Mom wanted to go to Jiuzhaigou, but Dad and I preferred Kanas for horseback riding. Although Xinjiang is very sunny now, the scenery is much better, and it's not as commercialized as Jiuzhaigou.
I've been riding horses with Dad since junior high school. Although I'm not particularly talented, practice makes perfect. Mom couldn't resist our persistent pleading, so she occasionally joined us. Her riding skills are even worse than mine, but she can manage ordinary off-road riding. With the plan settled, we started packing. Two days later, we boarded a plane to Urumqi. After a short rest, we took a bus to Jiadengyu. Although the bus smelled terrible, the scenery outside the window was incredibly beautiful.
Living in the cramped city for so long, I rarely have the opportunity to see such a wide-open view. But unexpectedly, just as we arrived in Jiadengyu and were choosing horses for the next few days of riding, Dad's phone rang. Dad went out to answer the call, and after a while, he came back looking helpless, saying that another major client needed him to lead an audit.
Mom asked if we could let someone else go, but Dad said he wasn't comfortable letting others go.
Then he discussed with us whether we should go back together or he should go back alone. I said we'd already come this far, so Mom and I should enjoy ourselves before heading back. This route is well-established, and I'd been here before. Dad asked Mom's opinion, and she agreed. So Dad stayed one night and went back the next day.
Mom and I began our cycling trip to Kanas. It's less than 30 kilometers from Jiadengyu to Kanas, but to experience the scenery of Xinjiang, we decided to go to Hemu. The journey from Jiadengyu to Hemu was peaceful. We stayed one night in Hemu and continued to Xiaohei Lake the next day.
If you're physically fit and enjoy riding, the time on horseback is very comfortable. Whether walking slowly, trotting, or galloping freely across the grassland, it's much more comfortable than being in a car. In Xinjiang, a place almost naturally designed for horseback riding, you can enjoy all the pleasures of horseback riding, except for the sun.
You can gallop freely on the open grasslands, but you have to go slowly on the hills filled with gravel. Most of Xinjiang's terrain is hilly, with occasional plains and mountains. The route we chose was relatively safe, and the steepest slopes weren't very steep. But it was precisely on this relatively gentle stretch of road that our accident occurred.
While climbing, I had my mother ride slowly ahead, and I followed behind. These past two days, my mother and I had been talking more, and my dormant longing for her had rekindled. Watching her in jeans, her bottom slightly raised, gently swaying on the horse's back, against the backdrop of such a beautiful scene, I was absolutely captivated.
If I could have a wild sex session with Mom here, with her kneeling before me giving me oral sex, her beautiful big buttocks sticking up to the sky, enjoying her little mouth and then moving on to her little hole... Thinking back to that night, the taste of Mom's little honey hole was still quite nice... Just as I was immersed in my fantasy, something unexpected happened. Mom's horse seemed to be startled and suddenly lurched down the slope. I quickly dismounted and yelled at Mom to put off the stirrups, but Mom had no idea what to do and just held onto the reins. But what use were the reins at this moment? Going downhill was difficult! Sure enough, as I ran towards Mom, the horse's hooves slipped. Seeing that I was about to slide down the slope, I quickly jumped off instead of sliding along the slope.
Fortunately, the horse was slowed down by a small tree growing across it. I fell beside the horse, yelling for Mom to put off the stirrups while helping her feet, which were stuck inside, to get out. At this point, Mom finally reacted and cooperated with me to finish.
I had just lifted my head to catch my breath when the startled horse, sensing the small tree wasn't holding it back, started kicking wildly and stomped directly on my shoulder. I even heard a cracking sound. Well, the horse and I tumbled down the broken tree, accompanied by my mother's scream.
The slope wasn't very steep, but it was quite high, and I couldn't slide all the way down. I endured the pain in my shoulder, rolled to the side to let the horse pass, slid a little further, and finally stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at the horse; its body was covered in wounds, still neighing and kicking, trying to stop it.
My mother slowly got down and helped me climb back up. Although I smelled her fragrance and felt her warmth, I had no time for anything else; the pain in my shoulder drew all my attention. Back at the top, my mother and I rode back to Hemu together. There, she quickly bandaged my scraped wound and then found a car to take me to a large hospital in Urumqi.
After the X-ray, it turned out to be a fracture. I told my mom that it was lucky we were on a slope, otherwise if the horse had kicked me, I wouldn't have been able to reach her. After saying that, I realized my words were ambiguous, but my mom didn't say anything. Later, my mom told me it was really dangerous; how could she have dared to go down there? I said I would have been heartbroken if my mom had been injured. My mom's face turned bright red. As for my face, it wasn't noticeable because most of it was covered in medicine.
During my hospital stay, my dad came once, but left again after seeing I was okay. My mom was taking care of me alone. Seeing her wearing tight jeans, her buttocks stretched taut, constantly dangling in front of me, and me not being able to do anything, was truly miserable. Fortunately, during my mom's afternoon nap, she would lie beside my bed, and I could slowly touch her face. I don't know if she could feel it, but she didn't object.
After staying in Urumqi for a long time, the doctor finally allowed us to take the train back. Returning home felt so warm and familiar. After resting at home for a while, school was about to start. Knowing my condition, my teacher told me to study at home until I was fully recovered before returning to school. So I stayed home again without a care in the world.
At this time, my relationship with my mother returned to what it used to be. Although I never laid a hand on her, I could sense that her attitude towards me had improved a lot since we returned from Kanas. After some time, I was completely recovered, so I begged my mother to take me to Mount Tai again, promising to go back to school and study hard. My mother reluctantly agreed.
Climbing Mount Tai wasn't particularly interesting. I wasn't very interested in the sunrise, and the doctor advised against strenuous exercise, so we climbed for a while and then took the cable car, wandering around a bit. We then went down the mountain and found a hotel to rest. After dinner, back at our accommodation, my mother chatted with me for a while before taking a shower. I took the opportunity to copy my treasured, uncut version of "Lust, Caution" to the hotel computer. When my mother came out wearing a towel, I told her, "Mom, I want you to cuddle with me while we watch a movie." My mother looked at me and said, "Okay, but don't get any funny ideas." I said, "I definitely will."
My mother, wearing a bathrobe, came to my bed and we watched Lust, Caution together. At first, she held me close, and I gently rested my head against her breasts, only to feel her bra. Later, I slowly shifted my position, reaching my arm around her neck so I could hold her. As time passed, my left hand began to caress her back, and she shifted her back slightly, no longer objecting. My heart pounded with excitement, and I couldn't resist lowering my head to kiss her forehead.
She looked up at me, and I couldn't resist pressing my lips to hers. She tried to pull away, but I couldn't escape her. I licked her lips, wanting to go deeper, but she clenched her teeth and turned her head back to watch the movie. I had no choice but to give up. When we got close to the uncut part, I slipped my hand inside her bathrobe and gently stroked her back.
I suddenly realized that she was wearing the bra from the lingerie I had bought for her. This discovery greatly excited me. At that moment, a passionate scene between Tony Leung and Tang Wei appeared on the computer screen. My mother was clearly affected; her breathing became rapid. This was a golden opportunity.
I pushed her down, and she let out a soft moan before I silenced her with a kiss. She initially resisted, but I pried open her teeth. Our tongues intertwined, and I greedily sucked her saliva. My hands weren't idle either; I tore open her bathrobe, wrapped one arm around her, and touched her breasts with the other. I freed her breasts from her bra, and my fingers slowly traced patterns on her nipples, making her pink buds even firmer.
My mother began to take the initiative, hugging my back and her tongue probing my mouth. I felt her change and continued to caress her breasts, her mouth emitting muffled sounds. I sat up abruptly, watching my mother gaze at me with a dazed expression, her breasts mostly exposed, her legs slowly rubbing together.
I knelt down and completely unhooked her bra, kissing my mother's left breast, savoring her taste. My right hand kneaded her left breast, shaping it in my hands, while my left hand caressed her thigh. My mother placed her hand on my head, as if encouraging me. After kissing her breasts for a while, I slowly kissed down her white belly, retreating between her legs.
When I touched her thong, I remembered our passionate night together, and continued licking her vulva through the fabric. Her legs began to twist irregularly, wrapping around my back. I lifted the fabric covering her vulva, gently kissing the entrance, then inserted my tongue, stirring vigorously, feeling the warm, soft moisture of her vaginal walls. Her juices slowly flowed out, some dripping into my mouth, the erotic taste further stimulating me.
I sat up and made my mother kneel like a dog, her buttocks sticking out towards me. She sat up softly, then lowered her head, her plump buttocks raised high.
I watched her black hair fall onto the pillow, then pressed down on her waist, making her stick her buttocks out even higher. Seeing her obedience, I couldn't help but feel that all the painful waiting I had endured was worthwhile. Remembering how my mother used to spank me when I was little, I slapped her buttocks twice. She let out two soft moans. I pulled her panties down to her knees, exposing her dark red anus and pink vulva.
I grabbed her buttocks and attacked her cleft. I found her clitoris and sucked on it. Her body trembled, and a uniquely feminine moan escaped her lips. Her vagina became even wetter. I inserted my middle finger into her vagina, feeling the place where I was born. My mother cooperated with my finger's thrusts and the sucking of her clitoris, moaning softly. I thought of my mother's usual dignified and virtuous appearance, and then of her current lewd state. Appearances can be deceiving.
I took out my middle finger and inserted it into my mother's anus. Her anus contracted, and an evil thought arose in my mind. I moistened my index finger inside her vagina, then forcefully inserted it into her anus as well. My mother mumbled "no," and reached out to try and remove my hand. I slapped her hand away and asked her, "Mom, is it good?"
Mom just made soft moaning sounds as my fingers probed her. The time was right, so I pulled down my shorts, positioned my genitals against her vulva, and told her I was going to go in. Mom didn't speak, but that was her answer.
I thrust my hips forward, my penis entering her most private place. Mom's vagina was still a little tight, the warm, wet opening enveloping my penis. At the same time, Mom let out a soft moan, different from her usual suppressed groans; I could hear the pleasure in her voice. I held Mom's slender waist and then thrust forcefully.
During the day, Mom was someone I could only look at with longing, but now she knelt before me, her buttocks raised, letting me fuck her vulva hard. Mom let out wanton moans. I leaned down, pressing my upper body against her back, one hand reaching to her chest, kneading her breasts, the other hand into her mouth, making her suck on my index and middle fingers that had just been inside her vagina and anus. My mother had my finger in her mouth, moaning indistinctly.
After a few dozen more thrusts, I pulled my finger out of her mouth. Holding her waist, I watched her moan beneath me, my erection hardening again. Her juices splattered, soaking the sheets. I helped her lie down, letting her sit on me with her back to me. Her long hair cascading down her back was alluring. I watched her plump, firm buttocks sway with the power of her slender waist.
After enjoying her ministrations for a while, I placed my hands on her waist and began to move in sync with her hips. By this time, her moans had turned into soft "ahs" and "ahs." Seeing she was running out of energy, I had her lie flat on her back and began thrusting again, aiming at her vagina. I lowered my head and took her nipple into my mouth, then took one of her hands and made her knead it. After a while, her moans grew louder; I thought she was about to climax, so I thrust even harder.
Watching my genitals move in and out of my mother's vagina, I felt immense pleasure, both psychologically and physically. At that moment, my mother's vagina twitched; I knew she was about to climax. I thought, since she wasn't fully conscious, I might as well… I pulled out and then, aiming at her mouth, inserted my still-dripping penis. My mother took it into her mouth, licking it with her tongue. I put my fingers into her vagina and anus, thrusting forcefully. Her vagina contracted sharply, and she mumbled as she sucked on my penis. I felt myself about to ejaculate, so I bent down and kissed her vagina in a 69 position, actively thrusting my penis into her mouth. My mother let me ravage her vagina and her lovely mouth.
While I was fiddling with her anus, I asked if she felt good. She mumbled a soft "hmm." I thrust into her mouth a few times and then ejaculated inside her.
From that day on, my relationship with my mom really took a leap forward, like lovers. When we were together, she would nag me, and I would nag her... Although my nagging was limited, I still had some control over her, like what she wore. I often made my mom wear a suit jacket and skirt to work so that during breaks, I could run to her office and slip my hand inside her skirt...

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