My son and his classmates

I have a beautiful face and an enviable figure. I once had a very sweet and happy relationship and marriage, but misfortune left me a widow and a single mother. My husband and I fell in love freely in college and even consummated our relationship. We loved each other very much, and after graduating, I married my husband, who had been working for two years, and we started our own family. The following year, we had our son, Xiaoyu, and life became even sweeter and happier. My husband and I have a very good relationship. He not only loves me dearly, but he is also very strong and energetic. This is undoubtedly a blessing for someone with a strong libido like me, and my husband is also fascinated by my body; we are very frequent. We have sex almost every day. If my husband is away on business for a few days, he'll be even more aggressive with us when he gets home, sometimes two or three times a night. It seems like he's trying to make up for those lost days. The year after our son was born, my husband, with some friends and a solid financial foundation, started a company in the electronics and trade sectors. After more than a year of hard work, the company had grown considerably, and my husband, through his abilities, became the CEO and owned the largest share. I focused on taking care of our son at home, becoming a full-time housewife, dedicating myself entirely to our family and our son. Every day after my husband's busy day, I offer him warmth and love, and at night I enjoy the pleasure of sex in his arms. Life was joyful and happy back then. My husband and I loved each other dearly, and our son was healthy and lively. Our lives had changed dramatically; we moved from an apartment to a villa. I drove our son to kindergarten every day, went to the market to buy groceries, did housework, and regularly went to the gym and got beauty treatments. I no longer worried about the future; our savings were more than enough to last a lifetime, and they were increasing year by year. As our son grew up, our lives became even more relaxed and joyful. My husband's company had grown significantly, and his bank savings alone were in the tens of millions. My husband no longer had to work as hard as before, handling many things himself, and he had more time to spend with me. Our relationship was as loving as it was during our passionate courtship. We spent our time together, being affectionate and tender. Because of less mental and psychological stress, my husband's energy was much higher, and my libido seemed stronger than in previous years. Just when we were living the happiest time of our lives, a sudden change devastated me. My husband had an accident during a business trip. When I heard the news, I felt like the sky had fallen, and I fainted on the spot. After handling his funeral arrangements, I was faced with an even more overwhelming situation: everything in the company fell on my shoulders. I hadn't worked for several years, and I was completely unfamiliar with the business operations of my husband's company, let alone capable of managing such a large enterprise. After several days of consideration, I gathered a few friends who had invested with my husband and explained my decision to hand over the company to them for management, along with the transfer of all of my husband's shares. They were hesitant, as the company was now quite large, and my husband owned more than 50% of the shares; they couldn't possibly buy them all. After discussion, we finally agreed that I would sell a portion of my husband's shares to them, with the largest shareholder managing the company, while I would retain the remaining shares as a shareholder. I would not participate in the company's operations.The management of my husband's company only involved attending a few shareholder meetings each year and receiving my share of dividends at the end of the year. After managing my husband's stocks, my savings grew to tens of millions, not counting the substantial annual dividends. Although I have no financial worries after my husband's death, I am emotionally devastated and constantly immersed in the pain of losing him. You see, my husband and I had a very good relationship, especially in the last two years when our love grew even stronger. I simply cannot accept this reality. My mood has become extremely low, and I often cry, especially when I am alone or at night. I constantly think about the days I spent with my husband, our love, and the sweet moments we shared. During the day, I take care of our son. After my husband's death, my son became my only source of emotional support. For my husband's sake, I must take good care of my son and raise him to adulthood. Although some people advised me to find someone else, I firmly refused. After my husband passed away, I made a decision in my heart: for my husband's sake, and even more so for my son, I decided to raise him alone. I know it would be easy to find another man; I'm not even thirty yet, and years of comfortable life have made me look younger than my actual age. More importantly, I have a huge amount of assets; I could find any kind of man I wanted. But that's not what I want. I deeply love my husband, and we have a son. I only hope that my son can grow up happily. My son will soon be starting elementary school, and finding a stepfather would have a huge impact on his young mind. I have already lost my husband; I absolutely cannot let my son down again. Although my son is starting to understand things, a child's heart will quickly forget the pain. Six months later, although I gradually emerged from the grief of losing my husband, I still felt very depressed. The days were alright, but I couldn't fall asleep at night. Lying in bed looking at my son sleeping soundly in my arms, I would always toss and turn, my mind filled with happy memories of being with my husband. I'm not even thirty yet, but whenever I think about the pleasures I share with my husband, I feel a surge of heat throughout my body, and I can't help but recall the joy of making love with him. The more I think about it, the more restless I feel inside, desire burning like a fire within me, growing stronger and stronger until I'm consumed by unbearable lust. At these times, I can't help but fondle myself, grabbing and kneading my breasts in the heat of passion, sometimes pinching my erect nipples hard to relieve the agitation within. Sometimes, unable to extinguish the fire within, I'll take off my underwear, already soaked with vaginal fluid and clinging uncomfortably to my body, and rub my labia with my fingers until I reach climax through masturbation, at which point the fire subsides slightly. Since my husband passed away, my son has been sleeping with me. Every night after bathing him, we play naked in bed. He's always been very attached to me, especially to my breasts. Whenever he gets the chance, he'll put his little hands on them or suckle at my nipples, as if he hasn't had enough milk. Because he's young and doesn't understand, I don't mind. Lying in bed, his tiny body climbs on top of me playfully, sometimes sucking on my nipples. During the day, when I'm alone, I often find myself lost in memories of my husband, and my mood becomes very low. Being with my son is the happiest time for me. At these times, I can temporarily forget the pain of losing my husband. Holding my son close, stroking his back and bottom, kissing his tender face, and touching his soft skin makes me happy. I often touch my son's soft, white penis and testicles, which look like little worms, with the tenderness of any mother, and sometimes even kiss his penis. My son seems to enjoy it when I touch his penis; he always spreads his legs and lets me stroke it. Often, his little penis, about the size of a little finger, will become erect during my touch. Sometimes, when my son sits on my chest and plays with me, his little penis, like a worm, is in front of my chin, and I can't help but take his penis and testicles into my mouth and kiss them. My son sleeps in my arms, his little hands always clutching my breasts. Even in his sleep, he often squeezes and kneads them, sometimes even directly grabbing and kneading my nipples. My husband has been gone for over six months, and sometimes when my son's little hands knead my nipples in his sleep, a strange sensation rises from my nipples, and I quickly feel waves of heat within me. My breasts haven't been touched by a man for over six months. My husband used to love touching my full, high breasts, often even while asleep, he would have one hand on them. Although it's my son's little hand, it still gives me a strange feeling. Sometimes I hold my son's little hand and rub it against my breasts, experiencing that unusual pleasure. When my body is aroused, I hold my son tightly in my arms, trapping one of his legs between my thighs, and rub my wet labia against his calf, imagining myself reaching orgasm. Sometimes, after playing for a while, my son would lie on top of me, his little hands clutching my breasts as he fell asleep. I would quietly let him sleep on me, one hand caressing his soft little bottom, enjoying the feeling of my body being pressed against him. Sometimes, when I felt a surge of desire, I would spread my legs and place my son's legs between them, rubbing his calves against my labia, experiencing the pleasure of the friction against his tender skin. My son was still young and didn't understand anything; after a day of play, he slept soundly and didn't react to my actions at all. Sometimes, when I was overcome with desire, I would grab my sleeping son's little hand and rub it against my labia. Although I also experience pleasure when masturbating, the pleasure from my son's little hand was much more intense. In my burning desire, I would even put my son's little hand inside my vagina. Whenever this happened, my pleasure was exceptionally intense, and I would often reach orgasm very quickly. Every few days, when my libido is high, I play these little games to satisfy my desires. I also stroke my son's penis while he's asleep; it's still very small, like a little candy. Although small, it reacts to my touch, and sometimes it gets hard after I gently rub it for a while. I also often put his penis in my mouth, like a little candy, while rubbing my own labia. After orgasm, I always hold my son tightly in my arms, drifting off to sleep with a feeling of satisfaction. One time, my son was fast asleep, but I couldn't fall asleep due to overwhelming desire. My libido is always very strong during my ovulation period. I touched my son's penis while rubbing my own labia with one hand. His penis slowly hardened under my touch, and my desire intensified. I held my son in my arms, my thighs clamping his legs together. In my rubbing, I unconsciously pulled him onto my body and lay down on the bed, his small body pressed against me. I raised my legs, trapping his small body between them, his little face resting on my stomach, his tiny bottom between my thighs. I swayed my legs around his small body, my hips moving up and down, rubbing my wet labia against his thighs and lower abdomen. I closed my eyes, savoring the pleasure of his soft skin rubbing against my labia. Suddenly, something hard pressed against my labia, and my body shuddered violently. A long-lost pleasure spread from my labia throughout my entire body. I jolted awake, realizing it was my son's penis. The thing pressing against my labia was his erect penis, the one I'd been rubbing. A gush of vaginal fluid welled up inside me. For the past six months, my labia hadn't been touched by anything other than my own hands and my son's legs. His penis was small, like a tiny finger, but the real sensation was incredibly powerful. My mind went blank; I just instinctively strained to lift my legs up, raising my buttocks off the bed.My labia were pressed against my son's body. In this position, his penis was pressed against my labia. I swayed, and with each sway, his penis pressed against my labia, sending waves of pleasure radiating from my labia to my body. Because my labia were full of vaginal fluid and slippery, his penis slid between my labia after a few strokes. My body trembled violently, my vagina contracted sharply, and a gush of vaginal fluid flowed out. My labia twitched and writhed, sucking on his penis. At that moment, my lust intensified, and the pleasure became exceptionally strong. After swaying a dozen more times, I reached orgasm, my whole body trembling violently. This orgasm was exceptionally intense, and vaginal fluid flowed continuously from my vagina, running down my buttocks onto the bed. From then on, every few days, after my son fell asleep, I would first kiss his penis with my mouth. When my son's penis became erect, I would gently hold him close and slide his tiny penis, about the size of my little finger, between my labia. Each time, I would fall asleep contentedly holding him after an orgasm. Before I knew it, my son was in elementary school. As he grew older, I became increasingly careful during our play. Perhaps because of my frequent use, his penis had grown thicker and as long as my little finger. Now, his penis felt different; it had grown long enough to touch my vaginal opening. He had also grown much taller, almost reaching my waist when standing, and felt quite heavy on me. I knew in my heart that my behavior was unethical. Almost every mother has touched her son's penis, and some have even kissed it. When sons are small, they sleep in their mothers' arms, and mothers have all had the most intimate contact with their sons. But at that time, the son was very young, and I didn't feel anything unusual because he was my son, born from my womb. However, as her son grows up, the mother naturally maintains a certain distance in their physical contact, and the intimacy of their childhood seems to transform into something else entirely. Sometimes, physical contact can be shocking for the mother, stirring up unusual feelings and even generating strange psychological responses. I am a single woman, and my husband has been gone for two years. I sleep with my son every night. Although I've become accustomed to close contact with him, as he grows older, I've begun to develop romantic feelings for him. While I long to continue this close relationship, I know he's growing up, and this behavior might be having an impact on him, potentially even evolving into something more serious. Before, when my son was young and didn't understand, I could do whatever I wanted. Now that he's starting to understand, I'm beginning to worry, fearing that if he finds out, it might affect his mental well-being. So, whenever desire began to stir within me, I would first try my best to endure until after 11 or 12 o'clock, when my son was sleeping most soundly. I would carefully stroke my son's penis with my hand, and when it became erect, I would hold him in my arms and slowly pull him onto myself. By then, his penis had grown long enough to penetrate my vagina. Although I knew I shouldn't do this, I couldn't help but let it enter my vagina when it slid between my labia minora. At this moment, the pleasure my son's penis gave me was more intense than before. My vaginal opening would tightly grip his penis each time, and with each movement, it would slide against my vaginal opening. Because I hadn't had sex for two years, my desire was always very strong, my body was more sensitive, and my vagina became very tight. I would quickly reach orgasm under the stimulation of my son's penis. A few times, perhaps because I moved too vigorously in the heat of passion, my son, who was lying on top of me and in my arms, seemed to be waking up. I was so frightened that I quickly stopped, my heart pounding. Fortunately, he didn't actually wake up. The next day, my son didn't show any unusual reaction. Actually, my son and I have always been very close. I haven't gone back to work since he was born, ninilu.Dom has always stayed home with him, so my son has always been very attached to me. After my husband passed away, my son and I relied on each other even more. Even now, I still don't sleep in a separate bed with him. We both sleep naked after showering, and he still loves my breasts, habitually grabbing them with his little hands while asleep. Years have passed, and as my son has grown older, I've become more cautious and less likely to engage in sexual activity with him. It's not that I don't want to, but I have fewer and fewer opportunities. After he entered third grade, my son was ten years old and started to feel shy, sometimes sleeping in his underwear. I also started paying attention to these things, wearing a thin nightgown at night, without a bra, but always wearing underwear underneath. Sometimes my son would go to shower by himself and put on his underwear afterward. Sometimes he would still shower with me, but he almost never wore underwear when showering with me, giving me the opportunity to play my own games after he fell asleep. My son's penis has grown a little more. Every time I make it hard and then put my sleeping son on top of me, his penis can now penetrate my vagina. When I wiggled and moved my hips, my son's penis could easily slip into my vagina. Then, as I moved, his penis would slide inside, and I could clearly feel its presence. When I thrust my hips upwards, his penis could penetrate my vagina, and I would often reach orgasm after only a dozen or so thrusts. Before my son started middle school, I stopped this "game" with him. A sudden event made me realize I had to end this game, and I decided to sleep separately from my son. It was two months before he was about to graduate from elementary school. One Sunday afternoon, he went to play soccer with his classmates. When he came home for dinner, he was covered in sweat and complained of being tired and hungry. After dinner, we watched TV for a while, and before nine o'clock, he said he was tired and wanted to take a shower and go to bed. I told him to take a shower and go to bed first, and I would watch TV before going to bed. My son went upstairs to shower, and looking at his increasingly tall body, I sat on the sofa, unable to calm down for a long time. I haven't played with myself after my son falls asleep for over a month; when I'm aroused, I usually masturbate. Seeing how tired my son looked today, knowing he'll sleep soundly tonight, suddenly stirred something within me. Although I often masturbate, I feel incredibly empty afterward. The games I play with my son while he sleeps, while not comparable to sex with my husband, excite me with their intimate physical contact, and I feel satisfied each time. I sat blankly on the sofa, staring at the TV, my mind wandering. My son is growing up, looking more and more like my husband. Though his face is still very young, I can already see glimpses of my husband's younger self. If my husband were still alive, how happy our family of three would be. As my son grows older, I've clearly sensed an inferiority complex in him. Although our life and circumstances are very comfortable, his father's role in our lives is irreplaceable. My son is more lonely at school than other children; his teacher mentioned this to me at parent-teacher conferences, but it's a problem I can't solve. Fortunately, my son is very sensible and studies very hard. He has always had excellent grades at school, and his teachers all like him. My mind was racing, and when I came to my senses, the TV show was over. I checked the time and it was almost midnight. I shook my head with a self-deprecating smile, got up, turned off the TV, and turned off the downstairs light as I went upstairs. Since my son was already asleep, I didn't go to the bedroom to get a change of clothes. Instead, I went straight into the bathroom. Anyway, my son was asleep, and even if I went back to the bedroom naked, he wouldn't see me. After showering, I dried my hair with a towel as I walked into the bedroom. As soon as I entered, my face flushed and my heart started racing. Because it was summer, my son wasn't covered at all and was lying naked on the bed, his little penis standing erect. My son's little penis had already grown into a penis. I walked to the bed in a daze and stared at his penis. He had grown more than a dozen short pubic hairs, and his penis was six or seven centimeters long and as thick as a small sausage. Although the glans was still covered by the foreskin, the tip was already exposed, and its shape was clearly visible through the foreskin. My heart was pounding, my mouth was dry, my face was burning, and my whole body felt like it was on fire. I carefully sat on the edge of the bed, and couldn't help but reach out and gently touch my son's penis with trembling hands. Although he was fast asleep, I was still afraid of waking him. His penis was hard, stiff like a small stick in my hand, and I slowly rubbed it. After a while, I gently pulled the foreskin back down, afraid to use too much force, lest I hurt his penis. His glans gradually emerged, the pink glans smooth from swelling. Looking at his penis, I couldn't help but swallow, and my thighs became noticeably wet. Desire began to burn within me. I gently stroked it with my hand, and couldn't resist lowering my head to take his penis into my mouth. I gently sucked on his penis, and with my sucking, it twitched occasionally. I didn't dare to masturbate like I did with my husband; I just took my son's penis entirely into my mouth and sucked on it. Soon, I felt my juices flowing down my inner thighs. I couldn't hold back any longer. I felt a heat and swelling in my vagina, and waves of itching emanated from deep within, causing my thighs to tremble uncontrollably. I gently got into bed and rocked my son. He was fast asleep. I turned off the light and held him in my arms. His penis was still hard and erect. Holding him, I stroked his penis with one hand, my desire growing even stronger. My thighs were already soaked with juices. I slowly turned him over, and he lay on top of me, still fast asleep, his face pressed against one of my breasts. I spread my legs and lifted them up, trapping his lower body between them, his hard little penis pressing against my labia. I reached down and grabbed his little penis, rubbing it against my wet labia a few times, then sliding it between my labia. I gently lifted my buttocks, and my son's little penis slid into my vaginal opening. My body trembled violently, and my vagina immediately gripped his penis tightly. I released his penis, grabbed his buttocks with both hands, pressed down hard, and then slowly moved my hips upwards. My son's penis was no longer the little worm it used to be; it gave me a distinct sensation inside my vagina. With each upward movement of my hips, his penis passively moved in and out of my vagina. The pleasure in my vagina was incredibly intense as his penis slid in and out. My vagina gripped his penis tightly, and my body trembled uncontrollably from the friction and stimulation. My vaginal fluids flowed uncontrollably. My son's penis had only been sliding inside my vagina for about two minutes when I was about to reach orgasm from the surge of pleasure. My vagina contracted, gripping his penis tightly, and I involuntarily moved my hips rapidly. As my hips moved, his penis slid quickly inside my vagina, becoming much harder than before, throbbing with each powerful contraction of my vagina. Overwhelmed by intense pleasure, I suppressed my moans and groans, my body trembling even more violently. My buttocks writhed a dozen more times, and suddenly, a powerful wave of pleasure surged from my vagina. I pressed my son's buttocks down forcefully with both hands, my body trembling violently as I reached orgasm. During my orgasm, my legs were raised high, my buttocks thrusting upwards, my vagina contracting and spasming continuously, tightly sucking on my son's penis. My buttocks trembled rapidly as if electrocuted. Just as I was climaxing, amidst the tight contractions and spasms of my vagina, I suddenly felt my son's penis, which was being tightly sucked by my vagina, twitch a few times, followed by a warm rush into my vagina. The sudden twitching of my son's penis and the surge of heat made my body tremble even more violently during my orgasm. I gripped my son's buttocks even tighter with both hands, and crossed my legs tightly over them. Suddenly, my son hummed a few times through his nose, and his body, which I was holding tightly, trembled slightly. Then, several streams of heat rushed into my vagina. I couldn't help but moan, trembling as I reached another climax. My mind went blank; my entire body was immersed in the unparalleled pleasure of successive intense orgasms. I held my son's body tightly against mine, experiencing a pleasure I hadn't felt in years. I lay on the bed, anxiously... I lay panting, limbs sprawled limply on the bed, my son still asleep on top of me, his small penis slowly shrinking inside my vagina. Suddenly, my body jolted, my consciousness snapping back to reality. I abruptly realized what had happened, and a sudden panic gripped me, my face flushing and my heart pounding. Although my son was still fast asleep, I remembered his physical reactions; the powerful throbbing of his penis inside me; the surge of heat flowing into my vagina; my son had ejaculated. In his sleep, his penis, tightly gripped and stimulated by my vagina, had reached orgasm. I rolled over and laid my son's body on the bed. His now limp penis slipped out of my vagina. I scrambled to my feet and ran into the bathroom. I stood there, leaning against the wall, hands pressed against my chest, gasping for breath. Oh my god! I had made love with my son! I had truly made love with my own son! His semen had entered my vagina. Six months after my husband left us, I started playing this game with my son when he was very young, but I never realized I was having sex with him; I always treated it as a form of masturbation. But today, when my son's semen entered my vagina, I suddenly realized I was having sex with him, and today was real sex, because his little penis was thrusting inside me and he ejaculated. My son passively completed his first sexual experience while asleep, and it was with me—his mother. I stood in the bathroom for a long time without showering. Honestly, deep down, I wanted to keep it all inside myself. Back in the bedroom, I put on my pajamas and underwear and lay on the bed. I didn't hug my son anymore; I didn't dare to. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself and do it again. I lay in bed, my mind racing, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I didn't even know what I was thinking. I was in a daze and barely fell asleep.

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