My Beautiful Headmistress Mother, Chapter Seventeen

Author: biohazrd
December 28, 2016
Published on: Forum First Post: Yes
Word Count: 11405
From now on, my verified pen name is 【Heartache and Regret】
Chapter Seventeen: A Small Accident
Just as I reached the door of my room, ready to open it and go in, a loud "bang" suddenly came from the balcony
, followed by a woman's cry of pain.
However, at this time, almost all the rooms on the third floor were dark, with no light shining through
the cracks in the doors; they must all be asleep. Who could it be so late?
Could it be another ghost story?
Wait, that voice sounds familiar, it sounds like…
Oh my god, Mom!!!
Suddenly overjoyed, I rushed to the balcony and found the bathroom light on the right side of the balcony was on,
and a figure could be vaguely seen moving in the glass of the door.
So I called out from outside the door, "Mom, is that you?"
"Xiaofeng?" came my mother's joyful voice from inside, but I seemed to detect
a hint of helplessness and resignation in her voice.
Sure enough, I knew it; even in the countryside, my mother's obsession with cleanliness couldn't tolerate
going to bed without showering. Originally, my mother and I planned to take a bus back in the afternoon after attending the birthday banquet, so we didn't
bring any change of clothes. I thought my mother would put up with it, but I didn't expect her obsession with cleanliness to be so
severe.
"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked anxiously. From the thud and the cry of pain I had just heard, my mother
must have had an accident in the bathroom.
"I accidentally knocked over the soap in the sink while showering, slipped, and twisted my ankle. Now it hurts... so much that I
can't stand up," my mother said, pausing a few times. I could hear her gasp
of pain through the glass door; it seemed she had fallen quite hard.
"What should I do? What should I do... Should I come in and help you?"
"No... Don't come in yet, I... Wait a minute..."
My mother's voice came intermittently, but knowing that she had twisted her ankle, I didn't even consider
the shy charm in her voice.
"Ah, Mom, what did you say? What happened—"
I frantically twisted the bathroom door handle, but Mom had locked it from the inside, and I couldn't
open it easily.
"Never mind, Mom, I'm coming in."
Saying that, I increased the force of my grip, and in my urgency, I unconsciously channeled the essence of Bajiquan, and
the veins on the back of my hands bulged out menacingly. In an instant, the door handle rattled, and in just a moment, I
broke the lock.
"Wait, Xiaofeng, you, can't, come in!!!"
"Ah—"
I heard my mother scream the moment I rushed in. I quickly went over and covered my mother's mouth, whispering
, "Mom, do you want to wake everyone else up?"
Hearing my words, my mother suddenly realized what I meant; this wasn't her own home, and there were
other people around.
But my mother, who had stopped, looked at me strangely, and I looked at her strangely too, confused. When our
eyes met, she suddenly looked away.
Only then did I snap back to reality. My mother was slumped on the bathroom floor, completely naked. One hand
covered her ample breasts, revealing a deep cleavage, while the other hand rested between her legs,
seemingly concealing something—something I think any man would understand.
Her skin was as white as snow, her figure curvaceous without an ounce of excess fat, her two long, slender legs tightly pressed together,
her rounded buttocks exuding mature allure. Two vibrant, rosy hues, still damp with water droplets,
cascaded down her glossy black hair, creating a hazy, alluring
effect on her body.
She buried her head in her chest, seemingly unable to face me. For a mother, being naked
before her son was enough to make her contemplate suicide.
But if you think I would become a lecherous lecher, indulging in lustful fantasies about my mother, you'd be wrong. I
didn't do that. Instead, I bent down and lifted my mother from the floor, carrying her out of the bathroom towards the room.
I didn't speak a word the entire way, and my mother let me carry her, offering no resistance or complaint. Even
her gaze held a hint of surprise.
Although my mother was conservative and not good at dressing up, always preferring to cover herself up completely, it was precisely because of this that
she knew very well what her body meant to men. This wasn't narcissism or boasting; my mother truly had
the capital to be proud of, and she knew very well how alluring her body was, especially to teenage boys—it
could absolutely evoke criminal impulses.
Yet, she saw no lust or lewdness in my eyes, only deep concern
and anxiety, which moved her deeply. She thought that after that time, I would see her as a woman,
not just a mother. She didn't know what she was afraid of; perhaps she feared that I might develop some other kind of thought
.
The word "incest" was far too heavy for my mother. She was truly afraid that if I developed
feelings for her that went beyond mother and son, how would she face it? How would she choose her relationship with me? Just thinking about this
always made her heart race. This was her greatest fear, because deep down, there was a sliver of expectation
… As for what that expectation was, she didn't want to think about it, nor dared to think about it.
She was terrified and fearful. She knew that once she accepted that idea, she would inevitably...make a terrible mistake...
My mother stayed quietly in my arms, not daring to look at me. She simply closed her eyes, her long eyelashes drooping
and trembling slightly like cicada wings, like two nimble butterflies gracefully dancing.
From the bathroom to the room, I didn't deliberately look down to admire my mother's alluring body, and my
hands remained respectful, not taking any opportunity to grope her, even though her delicate skin was incredibly smooth and full...
Her plump, soft flesh was incredibly supple, like a water-filled balloon. Touching it
... oh, forgive my lack of words, I can't describe the feeling.
Actually, I don't know how my willpower became so strong. For a long
time afterward, whenever I thought about it, I would beat my chest and stomp my feet, filled with regret. How could I have let such a good opportunity slip by?
I gently placed my naked mother on the bed and then ran out. A while later, when I returned
, I had a box in my hand. It was a first-aid kit I had asked my second great-
uncle for. He was about to get out of bed to sleep, but luckily I was there; otherwise, given that he had drunk some alcohol that day,
it would have been difficult to wake him once he fell asleep. When my second great-uncle heard that my mother had fallen while taking a bath, he was so anxious that he almost rushed to
her side, but I stopped him.
Just kidding, my mother wasn't wearing any clothes!
I told him that Mom was fine, just twisted her ankle, and I was just there to get some medicated wine to rub
on it. It was so late, my uncles, aunts, and cousins were all asleep; it wouldn't be good to wake them.
Everyone was tired all day, and Uncle, you must be tired too. You should go to sleep; I'll take care of Mom
.
After much persuasion, practically wearing my lips out, I finally convinced Uncle to go back. Then I asked him
where the medicated wine was—that was my real purpose for coming to see him; otherwise, why would I have wasted so much time?
When I returned to the room with the medicated wine, more than ten minutes had passed. But when I opened the door,
I froze, completely stunned by what I saw.
I don't know if it was because I'd been gone too long, but when they saw I wasn't there, they loosened their arms,
completely exposing her large, full breasts. My mother's breasts were the rounder type, two large, round mounds of flesh
, unlike the shriveled, gourd-shaped breasts; they were so full they practically dominated
her entire chest. Considering her age, it was unbelievable how firm they were, rivaling even a young girl's.
Even though she was leaning back slightly, supporting herself with her hands, those breasts defied
the laws of gravity, standing proudly upright. But that wasn't the most alluring part. What truly made one
's mouth water was the two small, rosy nipples in the center of her breasts. Though no longer the pink of a young girl's, they were
still like tender, ripe strawberries in spring, so delicate and tempting that one couldn't resist taking a bite.
Her areolas weren't large; on the contrary, for her impressive size, they were relatively small. My mother
's areolas were a little lighter in color than her nipples, simple and plain, reflecting her personality—like a
magnificent orchid blooming only at night, unassuming and not vying for attention with other flowers, yet no less beautiful than any of the most famous
blooms.
I stood at the doorway, watching without blinking.
It was just a pity that my mother didn't open her legs. No wonder, given her personality,
even my father couldn't bring himself to do it. When I watched them make love, it was always my father who had to spread her legs before he could penetrate her
. However, my mother didn't try to cover herself. Below her slender waist and flat
stomach, a dark patch of pubic hair peeked outwards. It instantly aroused me, making me feel a surge
of heat, and I longed to rush over, spread her legs, and explore that mysterious area.
"Xiaofeng—"
When Mom saw me suddenly come in, she was slightly taken aback. Then, realizing something,
she panicked and hurriedly covered her private parts with her arms. However, when she looked up again, she saw me
standing in the doorway, staring intently at her chest.
How could this brat do this? I'm your mother! He's been staring at his own mother's breasts, and even
...isn't that enough...?
"Ahem,"
Chen Shuxian couldn't stand her son's burning gaze any longer and had no choice but to call out to me herself.
"Oh, Mom, hehe—"
Mom's feigned cough finally pulled me back from my erotic reverie. I blushed and
gave a couple of embarrassed laughs, forcing myself to suppress my embarrassment as I strode over to Mom.
"Um, Mom, I... I'll put some medicine on it for you."
"Okay..."
After getting Mom's permission, I squatted down and grabbed one of her sprained feet. Only then
did I notice a large bump on her ankle joint. It was
heartbreaking to see such a cute little foot injured like this.
"Ah!!"
I only touched it lightly with my finger, and Mom's face paled in pain. It seemed serious; the sprain was quite severe
. It must have damaged the tendons.
"Mom, bear with it. This has already damaged the tendons and ligaments. It could be serious or even fatal. If it doesn't go well, it
could lead to disability."
As I was saying this, I looked up to continue, but what I saw made my whole body heat up,
my nose feel hot and dry, as if some liquid was brewing.
Because my mother's arms, which had been covering her feet, were no longer there at some point. Perhaps it was because I had just touched
the swelling on her ankle, causing her to involuntarily lean back in pain. Her hands then had to act as a
support. This is human inertia; accustomed to being clothed, even when naked,
though consciously wanting to cover herself, the pain overwhelmed her rationality. Driven by inertia,
human instinct doesn't care about clothing.
Especially given my squatting position and holding one of her feet, she could
n't close her legs. Thus, the visual feast I witnessed unfolded.
The mysterious black area finally revealed its true face—each pubic hair
shimmering under the light. And beneath the thick pubic hair of my mother lay the sacred
place I had always dreamed of returning to, the place of my birth.
I had seen this place before; I came into this world from here, and not long ago I went back once more.
That one time, the experience, is unforgettable. Countless times I've fantasized about wanting to go back...
Even if I couldn't go back, I hoped to see it again. Unexpectedly, happiness came so suddenly; my mother
's vulva reappeared before my eyes, less than a meter away.
A thin slit of flesh parted in the middle, surrounded by a few long pubic hairs, two tender, red
labia minora intertwined, burying the intoxicating little opening deep within the slit. My mother's vulva was the most beautiful I had ever seen
. Recently, because of my changes, Fatty Xu thought something was wrong with me and was acting abnormally, so he somehow
found a lot of uncensored AVs, which I watched with great enjoyment. However, it also allowed me to see
many women's vulvas.
Although my mother's vulva wasn't the most attractive I had ever seen, it was the most beautiful and arousing
. I don't know if it's because this is where I was born, but I have a different kind of
feeling for my mother's vulva than for other women.
It's a pity that my mother's vagina wasn't as distinctive as her breasts. It was a
very ordinary, common type; the outer labia were quite thick, and unless you actively parted them, you couldn't see
the opening. However, in my heart, my mother's vagina, though ordinary, possessed its own unique beauty. It didn't have
the butterfly, plum blossom, or abalone-like vaginas shown in AVs, which had a fatal allure to men.
My mother's vagina seemed unremarkable, but having had a brief encounter with her, I knew best
. The seemingly harmless and ordinary vagina held its true secrets, but that's a story for later
.
What surprised me most was that something seemed to be glistening between the two thick labia;
upon closer inspection, I realized it was a layer of fluid adhering to it. Having been repeatedly influenced by Fatty Xu, I was no longer
the innocent and naive boy I once was. Under the selfless instruction of numerous AV actresses, how could I
not know that it was a fluid secreted by a woman's genitals when she was aroused, used as lubrication during intercourse, and
simply called "vaginal fluid" in the pornography world?
Mom was aroused? Why? Impossible! Could it be that she was thinking of Dad? In my memory,
Mom wasn't a woman easily aroused sexually, especially since she had twisted her ankle and was in
too much pain to think about him. Could it be… because of… me…?
This thought startled me, and I quickly denied it was just wishful thinking. Despite my internal
resistance and denial, another voice told me that my idea was probably correct
.
Just then, Mom recovered from the pain and noticed my blank, unfocused gaze.
Slightly puzzled, she looked down in the direction of my gaze, instantly closing her legs and gently
swatting my head away.
"You little rascal, where are you looking?"
"I..."
Overwhelmed by Mom's shame and anger, I didn't know how to respond. As a son, I had harbored inappropriate thoughts about my own mother,
not only peeking at her private parts but also having impure thoughts about them.
"What 'I'? Didn't Mom tell you that as a boy, you must respect women and not make
frivolous gestures? And you dare to do this to Mom... It seems Mom hasn't scolded you in a long time, and you've grown wings and want to fly, haven't you
?"
"You..."
Actually, what I wanted to say was, if you're afraid of being seen, why didn't you cover yourself with a blanket? If you're afraid
I'll see if you let your hand down, then I was gone for so long, you could have covered yourself with several layers.
This is a question not only I want to ask, but all the readers of this story want to ask, and even the author
wants to know. Why? Unfortunately, only Mom herself could probably answer this question.
"Hoo," I sighed dejectedly, unable to answer.
Immediately after being scolded by Mom, I felt like a deflated balloon, too afraid to utter a sound. I lowered my head, picked up Mom
's foot, and applied a little medicated wine to her smooth, white feet.
"Hiss—"
My fingers had barely touched her foot, and I thought my movements were very gentle, but Mom still
gasped several times, her whole body tensing. Her toes curled up, trying to
resist the spreading pain with the force of her grip.
"I'm sorry, Mom, maybe I used too much force."
"...It's okay."
"Then I'll continue, Mom, just bear with it."
Mom's condition was really serious; if it wasn't treated properly, it could leave a lingering problem and lead to rheumatism later.
Anyone who has sprained their ankle knows, especially the first time, the pain is unbearable.
For Mom to have injured her bones and tendons on her first sprain like this, it's no wonder she was in so much pain.
Fortunately, I was the one beside my mother at that moment. Who was I? A successor of Wu-style Bajiquan. Who was Grandpa Wu?
Could an old Chinese medicine doctor who could seal my excess Yang energy with acupuncture alone be a simple person? Even though
I was young at the time, and I mostly learned Bajiquan from Grandpa Wu, the influence of his family
was not superficial.
A simple Chinese massage was no challenge for me. Moreover, Grandpa Wu often
helped me regulate my Yang energy around midday, the time when people often say the Yang energy is strongest. The technique he used was Chinese massage
.
Don't think it's unrefined; real Chinese massage is not the
kind you find in roadside shops. Real Chinese massage involves a great deal of knowledge regarding finger posture, pressure, and blood observation
. As for what that is, look it up yourself. This book isn't an urban medical novel, so I won't go into detail here.
I pinched a hole between my thumb and forefinger, then brought my forefinger and the other three fingers together,
gently spreading them around the swollen lump on my mother's ankle.
"Hiss—"
At first, my mother couldn't help but feel the pain and reflexively tried to pull her foot back, but my left hand
held it tightly. Pain was inevitable, and even though I was reluctant, I had to harden my heart. A short, sharp pain was better than a long, drawn-out one. If
something went wrong with her foot, it would be much more troublesome, and might even affect my mother's future.
Under my relentless "torture," Mom was in so much pain that she no longer cared about exposing herself.
Her arms, which had been resting on her chest, were now used to support her body, her fingers gripping the sheets so tightly they almost pierced the cotton padding.
Her two trembling breasts, now without support, shook freely in the air.
Contrary to my expectations, I didn't take the opportunity to feast my eyes. Sweating profusely, I couldn't care less about the
view. To control my pressure and gently loosen the swelling without aggravating Mom's pain, I had to be
extremely careful, paying close attention to every detail and pinpointing her veins and tendons.
Thanks to my efforts, the swelling finally subsided, but she still needed a few days of rest to fully recover. After all, it's said that it takes
a hundred days to recover from a broken bone—it's not an empty phrase.
Having done all this, I was almost exhausted and collapsed onto the floor, wiping the sweat from my brow and letting out a sigh of
relief.
"Okay, Mom, your foot is fine now. Just rest for a few more days and avoid strenuous exercise, and it should be alright."
"...Hiss," Mom took a few deep breaths, looking at her delicate feet. They seemed to have returned
to normal, although the pain lingered, at least the swelling on her ankle was gone. Seeing this, Mom
finally managed a smile, then twisted her foot. However, I had only massaged her to reduce the swelling and improve
blood circulation; it didn't mean the sprain was healed. So, as soon as Mom twisted her foot, she winced in pain
.
Seeing Mom suffer for her own actions, I couldn't help but chuckle. But Mom noticed.
Immediately, a deadly laser beam shot out, annihilating me into charcoal. "What are you laughing at? Is it that funny?"
"Mom, there's a saying, 'If you don't do stupid things, you won't die.'"
But as soon as I said that, I regretted it. What was I doing? I was talking to Mom! Mom!
Was I courting death? I'm dead! Mom will probably tear me apart now. It seems my mother's leniency towards me lately
has made me lower my guard and become too indulgent.
Sure enough, her eyes suddenly turned fierce, her gleaming pupils appearing to me like murderous
rays.
"You brat, are you looking for trouble?"
"Uh… Mom, I…" At this point, I had to use my trump card: a decisive admission of wrongdoing.
No dragging things out. Countless predecessors of the "king of kids" have proven with pain and tears that those who disobey their parents never have
a good ending. Anyway, I'm not the first to admit my mistakes. Face? Dignity? To hell with face
and dignity.
In the face of life, everything seems so pale; preserving my life is the most important thing.
This shows that my mother's authority has been ingrained in my heart for a long time. No matter how much I change,
the fear deeply rooted in my heart can never be eliminated.
"Come here!!!"
"Mom, I'm sorry, okay…" "
Come here!!!"
My mother's resolute tone left no room for argument. Helplessly, I couldn't escape my fate; I was going to die sooner or later.
Better a short, sharp pain than a long, drawn-out one. I hoped my mother would
be gentle with my ear, considering how hard I'd tried to apply the liniment.
I moved slowly and hesitantly, almost shuffling.
"Hurry up—"
Sigh, so be it. Suddenly, I looked up at the sky at a 45-degree angle, forcing a tear from the corner of my eye, as if to
tell the world that a mother is not someone a mere mortal like me could desecrate or tease. Goodbye, my
life.
My mother saw my righteous and resolute act of self-sacrifice, speechless. This kid
watches too much TV, doesn't he? Anyone who didn't know better would think he was going to war to defend his country. This brat, hopeless
.
My mother rolled her eyes, but she wasn't going to let me off so easily. She reached out and grabbed
my ear, pulling me around and swinging me back and forth.
"Ah... Mom, I know I was wrong, stop it, it's going to break!"
"Keep laughing, stop pretending!"
She finally threw me onto the bed. If it weren't for the burning sensation on the side of my head, I would have thought my
ear was no longer on my body. Ouch, that hurt so much!
"Hey, hey, hey, oh—"
I jumped up from the bed, fiddling with my ear, constantly testing if it was malfunctioning. Then
I covered my ear and looked at my mother with a resentful expression.
Seeing my expression, my mother chuckled, seemingly much happier.
The gloom from my sprained ankle vanished, as if even my ankle no longer hurt.
"Hmph, Mom, what will you do if my ear breaks?"
"Whatever happens, happens. If it's unusable, just cut it off and use it to make wine for your dad,"
my mother giggled. Suddenly, it was like an iceberg melting, spring returning to the earth, and a shower of flowers falling from the sky.
"You... are you really my biological mother? How could you want to cut off your own son's ear?" I
said, my eyes wide with grievance.
Actually, I did it on purpose. It's not easy to make my mother happy,
and it's even harder to melt this icy mountain of a mother. It requires wisdom. Wait a minute, that doesn't seem right either. At least half of it is true,
the other half is real pain, it's not entirely acting.
I can only say that I tried my best to act in your shoes—because I love you, I chose to act. This kind of
fulfillment...
"If I don't teach you a lesson, you won't know what color the sky is."
But my mother forgot again. She seems to be naked right now, completely naked, her snow-white skin crystal
clear, her two breasts swaying, paired with delicate blushes, her beautiful and charming figure
intoxicating. In my memory, only Aunt Ying was a fairy, until today I realized that the real
fairy is my mother. Normally stern and composed, she exudes endless charm in private, making
her far more irresistible than openly provocative women . The pleasure derived solely from this change in perception is indescribable.
"Uh... Mom, you... you're showing too much..." Actually, I wouldn't mind looking a little longer, but suddenly
a strange thought popped into my head, and I gave a bizarre smile, staring at my mother's breasts with a frenzied gaze.
The ground ravaged my mother's body, invading every inch of her skin, seemingly determined to see right through her.
"Hmm?"
Upon hearing my words, my mother paused slightly, then looked down to see
her enormous breasts, which she had always been too shy to show to others, now trembling and shaking, right in
front of her son.
Time seemed to freeze. She instinctively wanted to scream, but her composure kicked in
. She knew it was late at night, and screaming would wake not only her second
uncle and the others, but the entire village. Suppressing the urge, she quickly crossed her arms
to cover her breasts. Clearly, she knew her own bust size and understood that a
small arm couldn't conceal them.
A murderous glare shot up at me, and my mother's eyes widened, staring intently at me.
Strangely, being stared at like that by my mother didn't scare me. Instead, my eyes darted around and I pouted, saying,
"It's not like I wanted to see it."
"What did you say?!"
"That's right, it's because you're not wearing any clothes, and your breasts are so big, they're constantly jiggling. It's hard not
to see them," I said casually, pouting.
My mother looked at me with a frosty expression, panting, her breasts trembling with anger
. If it weren't for her arms holding them down, they probably would have jumped out.
"You still dare to say that?!"
I chuckled, my smile as lewd as could be. "Besides, it's not like I haven't seen them before, I
even..."
It wasn't that I didn't dare finish my sentence, but before I could even finish, my mother pounced on me like a ferocious wolf,
grabbing my neck.
I didn't expect my mother to be so agile despite her sprained ankle, and what surprised me even more was that she didn't
care about exposing herself.
At that moment, I had no interest in admiring my mother's beautiful body; I was practically being strangled to death by her. If
this continued, it would likely become tomorrow's headline: "Son
strangled to death by mother for peeping at her exposed body.
" "Mom...Mom...you...exposed again..." I tried to escape, but my
mother was like an enraged lion, ready to punish her disobedient little lion.
Sure enough, upon hearing my words, she didn't stop; instead, she spread one hand and pinched my waist hard
. The pain made me regret being born. Why, why, God, did you give me
such a beautiful mother, yet also such a cruel one?
So the question is, why do women seem to know men's weaknesses so perfectly,
without even looking, just by feeling, finding that spot and pinching the same place every time? Even more astonishingly
, this happened to a little girl who had never been in love before. Were women sent by heaven to punish men
?
"Mom...I was wrong...Look, Mom, your breasts are showing...I see your nipples
..." With my neck being choked, every word I uttered was extremely difficult.
"Hmph, didn't you say you've seen it before? Anyway, you've seen it all, what do I care? Are you
also going to say you've touched it, fucked your mother, are you?! If I don't kill you today, my husband will
take your surname!
" "Ah—", I struggled to reach out to the sky, trying to call for help, but...
"Ah!!! Oh!!! Oh!!! Uh!!!"
"Mom, Mom, Mom!"
"Hmm?"
"Your husband is my dad, isn't he? I already have his surname—"
"Oh, ah!!!!"
Just as I finished speaking, my mother delivered a violent blow, instantly sending me bouncing off the bed, my whole body aching so badly I
questioned my existence.
Xia Liufeng, aged sixteen, died.
Finally, I had no choice. In my frantic state, I grabbed my mother's arm and pulled her hard. Even though she
had a crippled leg, she wouldn't have been able to withstand my strength under normal circumstances. So my mother fell into
my arms.
Her two soft breasts pressed down on me. The worst part was that since she had been pressing down on me while hitting me,
her body was slightly leaning forward, and her two full breasts bumped against my forehead. Instantly, a faint
fragrance mixed with the scent of milk permeated my heart, like a shiver running through my entire body. I could feel
something rising inside me.
I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, oh, I was going to die.
Not suffocate, but die of bliss.
However, my mother was also startled by my sudden action and didn't react. Until...
"You little bastard, you dare to fight back when I hit you? Huh? What's pressing against me?"
Then my mother propped herself up, finally letting her huge breasts leave me. I could finally breathe air; I
had almost died of oxygen deprivation. Now I finally understand why most car accidents on TV aren't fatal because of the
impact, but because the airbags suffocate the victims.
Suddenly, Mom felt something hard pressing against her there, especially since she was naked;
it felt incredibly strange. Even through several layers of clothing, she could feel the heat, almost scalding her
genitals.
If Mom didn't know what it was at this point, she'd be truly clueless. Having experienced such things, she
knew perfectly well that it was a male erection. Xiao Feng… he's erect for me?
Although she desperately didn't want to believe it, the facts were undeniable. There was only one woman here, and that was her. Her
own son was getting aroused in front of his mother.
As a mature woman, Chen Shuxian knew perfectly well that when a man gets an erection for a woman
, it means he wants to have sex with her. In other words, Xiao Feng… wants to
have sex with me?
Impossible. Xiao Feng is my son, I'm his mother. He would never have any improper thoughts about me.
" Impossible...impossible...
"
Chen Shuxian looked at her son strangely, a
mixture of disbelief and incredulity. She didn't know how to begin.
"Mom, I..."
At that moment, I didn't know what to say either. My mother and I just stared at each other silently,
her naked body sitting on me, her large, full breasts hanging in front of me,
making my heart burn.
The situation was incredibly ambiguous. What to do? Someone had to break the deadlock, otherwise
how long would this stalemate last?
For some reason, I suddenly made a decision...
************************* To find out what happens next, please read the next chapter *************************
Goodbye!
[The plot is starting to get interesting, and from here on, I'll begin to slowly wrap things up. But don't
get your hopes up too high; knowing my little tricks, hehe, you know what I mean.]
[I read the comments on the previous chapter, and many friends seem to say I was dragging out the plot, or that
some parts were too wordy. Well, I don't deny that I might have dragged out the plot, but I still won't change
my original intention. Let me explain slowly: Regarding the plot, I can only say that slow and steady wins the race. Actually, if you
can savor it carefully, you'll understand why I've laid out so much groundwork. This is probably the first time I've
broken down the plot. The protagonist of this book is a naive and inexperienced young man who
has always been restrained when it comes to sex, vaguely yet yearning for it. However, the appearance of the character Fatty Xu enlightens the protagonist about
sex, giving him a certain understanding of it.] At the same time, a curiosity about women arose, but even
so, it was impossible for him to develop any feelings for the mother of the book's main female character so quickly. Putting yourself in her shoes,
would you become sexually interested in any woman after watching porn? Impossible, especially not your own
mother. Overcoming these limitations, both ideologically and morally, is not something that can be done overnight. Therefore, I arranged for the protagonist
to secretly watch his parents having sex, giving him a more realistic understanding of sex. After all, porn is
porn; it can't compare to the impact of seeing it in real life. Then, step by step, until the first few chapters,
an unexpected incident with his friend's mother prompted a change in my mindset, freeing me from the constraints of traditional morality. However, the so
-called change was merely an excuse I used to convince myself. Taking action required courage, which led to
the creation of the previous chapter. It seemed like a small adventure to make up for childhood regrets, but also to overcome my inner
fears. I used to fear the depths of the forest; conquering it would allow me to break through the wall in my heart and step out of
the boundaries I had set for myself—it was a long journey of self-discovery. As I've said before, this novel is the first time I
've truly decided to create something substantial. I didn't want to be perfunctory or careless; if
that were the case, I'd rather not write at all. What I want to say is that the generous author initially proposed a 4000-word chapter at 100
% of the price. Anyone who has written novels knows the difference between a 4000-word chapter and a 10000-word
chapter; 4000 words is much simpler. But I wasn't willing. I felt that 4000
words couldn't express much content; this isn't fantasy fiction where you can divide it into paragraphs. So I'd rather have 1000
words and 200 lines. This is a requirement, and also a form of self-motivation.
[As for the issue of overly verbose and tedious descriptions, I can only say that I'm working on improving it. After all, this is
part of my writing style. If a work lacks the author's style, it loses its soul.
Do you think style is just a habit? Actually, style is more like the soul that the author infuses into each work, a unique
mark of the author. Just like children inherit some personality traits from their parents, it's a kind of inheritance, a cultural inheritance
.]
[I accidentally deleted the comic in chapter fourteen. Damn it, I can't post it
now, sorry.] [Unconsciously, this article has been half a year since the first chapter. Time flies. When I uploaded the first
chapter, I was still in school. In the blink of an eye, I've been working for almost half a year. 2016 is about to pass
, and 2017 is coming. I don't know what the future holds, but for some time to come, I
will still be with everyone. Here, I'm officially announcing that I have a new idea and am currently building an outline.]
I might release the first chapter sometime when I'm in a better mood, but of course, a full serialization will have to wait until
the story is finished. Here, I wish everyone a happy new year and a fresh start, leaving the past behind and embracing the future. I also hope that
you all will continue to support my writing in the new year. Suddenly, I had a mischievous idea, hehe...
[
Oh, I almost forgot, a netizen said this story is more like an autobiography. I'm speechless. Don't you know
what perspective writing is? Most online stories are written in the third person, which is God's-eye view—
the simplest. First-person writing, on the other hand, is the protagonist's perspective. This style creates a strong sense of immersion but requires a lot of
logic and spatial thinking. Even I only have a superficial understanding of it and often feel confused.
I'm still learning, so please understand.]
[As usual, enjoy the pictures, don't imagine, and definitely don't fantasize.]

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My Beautiful Headmistress Mother, Chapter Seventeen

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