A happy mother and child

From a young age, Edward Adams had been afraid of thunderstorms. Even now, at twelve years old, he remains terrified. The flash of lightning, streaking across the sky with blinding light, and the ensuing thunderclap, always fill him with dread and anxiety. Especially at night, alone in his pitch-black dormitory, the sudden flash of lightning is even more terrifying, making him feel as if his very soul might be lurched out of his body! Although he is ashamed of his cowardice, he has no choice but to seek refuge with his mother when a thunderstorm strikes. His mother always holds him in her arms, gently comforting and carefully protecting him until the storm passes, and he falls soundly asleep in her embrace. Tonight, the thunderstorm has come again. Summer is like that—it comes suddenly! A blinding flash of light rips through the night sky, followed by deafening thunderclaps, one after another, flashing and roaring incessantly. In the countryside, it was even more so, like a raging giant, venting its fury, tearing and thrashing. Bright light streamed through the glass windows, and the thunder shook them violently. Edward lay on the bed, his body trembling, his hands trembling. The blanket, meant to cover his body and protect him from the cold, was now only used to cover his head, tightly concealing his eyes. The wind continued. The rain continued, lightning flashed like scissors, thunder roared like drums! A flash of lightning ripped through the night sky, and in its pure white light, everything froze. The paintings on the wall, the tables and chairs in the room, for a moment, became like a painting, a lifeless painting. Then, the lightning vanished, and everything plunged back into the deep darkness. Little Edward's heart, too, plunged into darkness! He trembled under the sheets. Suddenly, he threw off the sheet, leaped from the bed like lightning, pushed open his bedroom door, ran out, crossed the hall, pushed open his mother's door, rushed into her room, jumped onto her gilded bed, and lay down immediately! This was his mother Helen's bed. She already knew her son would come, but what pleased her was that he was spending more time in his room tonight than ever before. She truly hoped that as Edward grew older, his fear of lightning would gradually lessen. "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, Eddie," Helen said, lifting her own sheet. "Come on, get under Mom's blanket, don't be afraid. The storm will pass soon." She moved closer to her terrified son. "I'm sorry, Mom. I've tried my best, but I'm still scared." As he was explaining, another bolt of lightning ripped across the sky, followed by a deafening thunderclap that seemed to shatter the earth. Startled, Edward quickly moved closer to his mother, hugging her tightly and pressing his body against her back. Helen shifted her hips, letting her son press even closer, gently patting his body to help him relax. "Quiet down, my child. You've done very well. You've done very well. Relax, now try to fall asleep. Okay?" "Yes, Mother. Goodnight." "Sweet dreams, dear." Outside, lightning flashed and thunder roared, but Helen lay back down on her pillow with peace of mind. The night grew deeper, and Helen and her son, who was afraid of lightning, snuggled together and gradually fell asleep. As long as he slept beside his mother, Edward was fearless. Now, he was asleep, sleeping so soundly, as if he had never been afraid at all. Yes, when children are afraid and anxious, their mothers are the best reassurance; their bodies are the strongest shield for their children. Now, Edward's arms were tightly wrapped around his mother's waist, sleeping so soundly. Helen slept so soundly! She slept peacefully too. She gradually drifted into sleep, and in her dream, she was still a young girl, with her boyfriend. Nestled beside her, his hand restlessly reached for her chest, wanting to caress her. Although she liked him, she was still a girl, a pure and innocent girl. She constantly tried to stop him; she was afraid, afraid he would take advantage. But her boyfriend was patient, one arm around her soft, slender waist, the other hand constantly caressing her. Strange sensations, like electric shocks, surged through her body under his touch. The feeling, oh, often made her feel disgusted, yet secretly welcomed it; truly a bittersweet experience. She was intoxicated, ecstatic; in her ecstasy, her body went limp, and she was drenched in fragrant sweat. Finally, his hand touched her bra, gently pressing it against her. Below, his mature penis pressed against her buttocks, hot and hard, rubbing and swirling around her pink buttocks, making her uncomfortable. Unconsciously, she pressed her buttocks towards it, pressing tightly against it, squeezing it. His hand touched her breasts, touching her nipples. Unable to bear it any longer, she began to move her hips. Her breasts were being caressed by a man, her buttocks were being squeezed by a foreign object, her heart pounded, and with each pounding heart, her buttocks gradually relaxed without her realizing it. Suddenly, Helen woke up. However, although she was awake, her consciousness was still hazy. Am I awake now, or am I dreaming? If I am awake, why is the hand in my dream still on my chest, why is the hand on my chest still caressing my nipples? Why is the penis in my dream still there between my legs? Why is it still so hard, pressing against my buttocks? But I should be awake now. But why am I still dreaming when I'm fully awake? Helen was puzzled. Why is this happening? She couldn't understand it. Unless… outside the window, the thunderstorm still hadn't stopped. Suddenly, a deafening clap of thunder boomed. Lightning ripped through the night sky, and into her heart. There was only one answer! Edward! Yes, it must be! Her consciousness was fully awake. Now, of course, she was awake. She was lying in bed, thinking. Indeed, a hand was playing with her nipple! Indeed, a hard, erect penis was pressing tightly against her buttocks, and now she could feel her panties against her body, so soft. However, she didn't dislike that feeling. To be honest, she liked it. When she gently pulled her son's warm hand up, his hand was still tightly gripping her breasts. Even through her nightgown, she could clearly feel the hardness of his penis, hard enough to pry open her buttocks and penetrate her cleft. At the same time, her gluteal muscles were already reacting in an incredible way with his penetration. Playing with his mother's breasts with his hands, inserting his penis into her cleft—how improper! But then, she smiled secretly. How foolish, her son was clearly asleep! He was snoring, the warm breath from his nostrils brushing against her neck. She felt she should do something. Gently grasping her nipple, Edward's hand, even in his sleep, felt so soft. Helen lay on her side, her nightgown slipped to the side, her breasts completely exposed beneath. Now, his hand slipped inside her nightgown, pressing against her breasts with increasing force, urging on her exposed nipples. Helen held her breath, afraid to move, but his hand continued to caress them; they had quickly become erect in her beloved son's hands. As her son stroked her nipple, desire immediately rose within her, a tingling, itchy sensation mingling with the burning passion. Afraid she would cry out, she bit her lip tightly. But she couldn't resist the surge of lust; she moved her hips back, allowing her son's penis to press even closer. She was already aware...The son has grown up. His penis has grown up too. Perhaps her pajamas were too short. When she pressed her buttocks tightly against her son's penis, it kept moving upwards with her body's movement, no longer able to cover her fat, large buttocks. With her movement, her son's penis kept pressing against her pink buttocks, becoming harder and harder, so hard that it could penetrate between her buttocks. This, isn't this bad? After all, he is her son! If her son's penis is pressed against that position, it would be easy... to do that, wouldn't that be incest! Edward turned over slightly, and with the movement of his body, his penis slid deeper and deeper between her buttocks. No. This is not right. Helen was telling herself. She tried to move her body out of her son's penis. But she couldn't; his penis was still inside her. His penis, inside her pants, pressed against her vulva, and when his vigorous member reached the edge of her vulva, thrusting repeatedly, Helen couldn't help but gasp. Whatever, her son was fast asleep; whatever happened, he wouldn't know. Helen reassured herself. To avoid waking him, Helen carefully moved her hips, her narrow cleft gripping his penis, twisting and turning. With each twist, she felt her son's legs change direction, his penis pressing tightly against her vulva from behind. With each twist, her desire intensified. Somehow, she felt her vagina was wet; her vaginal fluid had seeped out. The fluid accumulated inside her vagina, gradually flowing out and between her legs. Desire was reminding her, hinting at a greater need. She knew she couldn't take it anymore. So, she reached out, carefully touching between herself and her son. Finally, she touched her son's shorts. Slowly, she pulled them apart and carefully lifted his shirt.

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A happy mother and child

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