When I was little, I went to visit my father with my mother.

When I was little, my mom and I visited my dad's childhood. He worked in a construction factory far away and could only come home once a year. My mom also had a job, and she would take me to see him every month or two. A few things happened that I've never told anyone, so I'll just share them here in this virtual space. My mom and I took a long-distance bus to see my dad. The bus journey took ten hours, starting in the evening and arriving at dawn. Because there weren't many buses, it was always packed. I was eight years old then, but I was small, so I didn't even need a ticket; I could just squeeze next to my mom. I usually fell asleep soon after getting on the bus and woke up at dawn. But one night, I don't know when, I felt my mom moving. When I woke up, I heard her whisper, "No, it'll wake the child." I felt I shouldn't have woken up, so I pretended to be asleep. Gradually, I realized why my mom was moving her hands. It turned out that the man sitting next to her had put his hands inside her clothes. The man even said, "If you don't want to wake the child, don't move." My mom really didn't move, but the man's hands were still moving inside her clothes. My head was resting on my mother's waist, and I could feel my uncle's hand climbing up, then directly pressing and rubbing my mother's breasts. My mother tried to push him away, but couldn't. After a while, my uncle moved his hand down to my mother's lower body, unbuttoning her pants and touching her inside. My mother whispered, "No, really no," and said some other things I can't remember now, but my uncle's hand still went inside her pants. I already knew what a woman's private parts were by then. After my uncle touched her, he slowly moved it around. My mother tried to push him away, but couldn't. Eventually, her body went limp, and my uncle pulled her into his arms. I slid my head down to my mother's lap and continued to pretend to be asleep. My uncle ignored my mother's resistance and pulled up her clothes. I was pretending to be asleep and didn't dare to look up, but I roughly knew that my mother's clothes were pulled up around her waist and her pants were pulled down. My uncle did this for almost half an hour before letting go of my mother. Another thing. Dad's dormitory was small, with only a single bed, not big enough for the three of us. Luckily, some of Dad's colleagues were often away on business trips and could lend us their dorm rooms. Mom and I shared another room. Of course, at night Mom would settle me into bed first, then go to Dad's dorm, and come back to sleep with me after an hour or two. Although I was eight or nine years old then, I already understood what Mom did in Dad's dorm and didn't find it strange. Mom would get up very early in the morning to cook breakfast for Dad. I actually woke up early too, but I always liked to stay in bed pretending to be asleep until Mom finished cooking breakfast before waking me up. That day, Mom got up very early again, washed up, and went out to wash rice. I heard her greeting someone; it was Dad's team leader, whom Dad called the director. But soon after, he and Mom came back into the dorm. Mom said, "Director, what's up?" The director pulled back the mosquito net, looked at me sleeping, and then suddenly turned around and hugged my mom. Mom screamed in fright, but probably afraid of waking me, her voice was very low, and she kept asking, "Director, what are you doing?" "But the director ignored her and started groping her. My mother was wearing pajamas, and the director seemed to easily pull her pants down. I was inside the mosquito net, too scared to make a sound. It was early morning, and the dormitory was a bit dark, so I couldn't see clearly, but I could see my mother's two fair and tender thighs. The director pressed my mother down onto the desk, and at some point, his pants also fell down, his hairy thighs pressed against my mother's. My mother kept pushing back with her hands. I was so nervous then, as if I was doing something wrong. My heart was pounding, and I didn't dare to make a sound. I only heard my mother let out a short 'ah, ah' sound. Later, I learned that this sound was my mother being violated. I still remember it very clearly. Then the director started thrusting his hips and slapping her. The director was also panting and talking, most of which I couldn't hear or forgot, but I remember one sentence: 'xxx (my father's name) is so lucky to have married such a beautiful wife! He deserves to be fucked by me!'" "My mother was limp and lying on the table, being pushed up and moved around by the director. Later, the director laid her down on the floor, and the light from the window made it easier for me to see her. Her clothes were pushed up to her chest. It was the first time I had ever seen my mother naked like that. I had seen her breasts before, but I had never seen her pubic hair before. The director pressed her down, and all I could see were his two large buttocks and my mother's two spread, tender legs. He started having sex on the floor next to our bed. My mother made some sounds, which are hard to describe. At that time, I felt that I had done something wrong, and that I should have protected my mother. So I didn't dare to tell my father or anyone else about what happened." Later, when my mother and I visited my father, it happened to be his company's celebration banquet. Everyone drank a bit too much. When we got back to my father's dormitory, the director was still drinking with him. My mother tried to persuade him to stop drinking, but he wouldn't listen and even started singing. My mother settled me in bed and told me to sleep first, then she went back to my father's dormitory. About half an hour later, still remembering how the director had harassed my mother that day, I got out of bed and tiptoed back to my father's dormitory. It was a mess inside, the main lights were off, and only a small desk lamp was on. My father was slumped over the table, talking nonsense and humming a song, while the director was holding my mother on the bed. I was very worried that my father would wake up and see what had happened between the director and my mother. Fortunately, my father didn't wake up, and my mother didn't struggle like last time. The director seemed to easily strip my mother naked and started having sex with her. This time, I clearly saw the director thrusting into my mother, and her body swayed with him. I didn't dare look for too long and ran back to my bed. Years later, Dad was transferred back to his hometown, and Mom and I no longer had to travel long distances to visit him. That director also came to our house once; Dad warmly invited him to stay for a few days, but he didn't stay. I've kept those childhood events to myself, never telling anyone. Mom is still a loving mother and Dad's virtuous wife; I won't tarnish her image, and Dad will never know that his beautiful wife was once abused by another man. (3823 bytes)

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/190511.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=190511&aspx=1

Previous Page : Stop laughing

Next Page : The Condor Heroes: The Lustful Wife and the Cuckolded Husband

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

When I was little, I went to visit my father with my mother.

comment Open a new window to view comments