Mother-in-law, happy

I'm a middle-aged man now.

I got married in 1989. My father-in-law passed away in 1991, but I couldn't go back to handle the funeral arrangements due to work.

In 1996, I went on a business trip to the south to visit my mother-in-law (whom I usually call "Mom"). The moment she saw me, tears streamed down her face, and she held my hand

, pouring out her heart. Although she had a son with her, I really wanted to invite her to my home to show my respect.

When I suggested she come with me, she was so happy, like a little girl.

To be honest, while we had a good relationship before, we weren't particularly close.

That year, she was 55, and I was 27.

When we arrived in Beijing, perhaps because she had never been to a big city before, she stayed close to me. The first time we crossed the street, we walked side-by-side, but she hesitated to move. I had to hold her hand.

I had been away on business for over a month and hadn't been near any woman.

Although I knew she was my mother (even though she hadn't given birth to me), the feeling of holding her hand was still quite nice; I remember her hand was very soft.

The second time we crossed the street, I took her hand, and she naturally gave it to me. After we got to the hotel and settled in, we rested for a while, and then it was time for dinner. When we returned after dinner, the city lights were shining brightly, and the night view was truly different

from that of a small city. Seeing her excited eyes, I walked with her on the street, admiring the Beijing night view and reminiscing about the past. I felt so relaxed. Before I knew it, I found myself with my arm around her waist.

I turned to her, and she looked up at the same time. Our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, she lowered her head, but I could still see her shyness.

We were quiet for a while, then continued talking about the past and the night view. We didn't return to the hotel until after midnight.

Beijing in late September is truly beautiful. Touching her soft waist through that thin veil, smelling her faint feminine scent, gave me a sense of satisfaction, at least psychologically.

The next day, I suggested we go to Tiananmen Square and the zoo, and she readily agreed.

At Tiananmen Square, when I put my hand on her waist, she softly said, "It's broad daylight, so many people are watching."

I whispered in her ear, "These people don't know us. If I do this, people will just say how filial the son is. Besides, you are my mother."

She smiled, a happy smile tinged with the same shyness I'd seen the night before.

I kept my arm around her waist as we walked through the Memorial Hall, Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City, and the zoo. We also bought her some clothes at a shopping mall near Qianmen, including two sets of underwear.

On the way back, we had dinner near Xizhimen, which wasn't far from our hotel if we wanted to take a walk.

After dinner, I put my arm around her waist and we slowly walked back to the hotel.

As we approached the hotel, she told me she never imagined she'd have such a wonderful time in Beijing at her age. From her words and expression, I could feel her joy, even happiness.

On the morning of the third day, we boarded the train heading north, looking after each other along the way.

When we got home, the whole family was overjoyed, especially my wife. We lived in a two-story house. Mom lived on the first floor, close to the living room, making it convenient for watching TV and using the bathroom.

Considering she was new to the area and unfamiliar with everyone, and since my job was relatively easy at the time, I spent a lot of time with her, mainly watching TV and talking.

One day, I woke up after my wife left for work. After washing up, I went to Mom's room and found her awake but still leaning against the headboard. I turned on the TV, sat down beside her, and talked to her.

It was a chilly autumn morning in Northeast China, and I was shirtless.

After chatting for a while, Mom said, "Aren't you cold? Go put on some clothes." I said I was fine. A little while later, she urged me again, but I still didn't go. She said, "Then come up here, don't catch a cold."

To be honest, I had initially just forgotten to put on clothes, but when she reminded me, I was already thinking about whether I could get into her bed.

Hearing her invite me to bed was exactly what I wanted. After getting into bed, we leaned against each other watching TV. Later, I lay down, while she leaned against the headboard. After talking for a while, I turned to her and put my arm around her waist. She continued to recount stories of the

past, and I just listened, but inwardly I was savoring her fleshy body and fragrance. Although I was indeed very excited at the time, I still just leaned against her.

After a while, we talked about her health, and she said that she sometimes had a little back pain, so I said I would massage it for her.

I had her lie down, lifted the blanket, and saw that she was wearing thermal underwear. I knelt on either side of her and massaged her lower back from under her shoulders. After a while, the warm, soft flesh stimulated me, so I sat directly on her lap and expanded the massage area to her buttocks, sometimes with my lower body pressing against her cleft. She just lay there quietly. After massaging

for a long time, she said, "Are you tired? Don't massage me today, take a break before going to work."

I got down, lay in her arms, and told her some things she should pay attention to. She said, "Go to work."

The next day, I waited until my wife went to work before going downstairs.

This time, after turning on the TV, I went straight into Mom's bed. She said she felt much better after the massage yesterday, so I said we could continue today.

After she got down, I massaged her as I did yesterday. The difference was that this time I sat directly on her lap, sometimes lifting her clothes to give her a direct fleshy massage, and I even deliberately pressed my penis against her genitals.

After a while, she said she didn't need to massage anymore today and should rest for a bit.

I got down and lay in her arms, asking her how she got this back pain. She said it was from childbirth. Continuing on this topic, she lectured me not to overdo it, especially not in the morning, as it could easily harm my health. After talking for a while

, she told me I had to go to work. I obediently got out of bed.

On the third day, I still waited until my wife went to work before going downstairs. Just as I was about to crawl into her bed, she said I should eat something in the morning, otherwise it wouldn't be good for my health. There were two eggs on the table, so I went to eat them. I asked, "Mom, have you eaten?" She replied, "I ate them a while ago."

After eating the eggs and rinsing my mouth, I crawled into her bed.

I rested my head on her right arm, put my arm around her waist, and after saying a few meaningless words, I suggested a massage.

She climbed down as usual, but unlike yesterday, she wasn't wearing thermal underwear; instead, she was wearing a tank top and briefs.

Seeing this, I first took off my underwear and sat directly on her lap. To be honest, she really excited me more today than usual; most of the time, I wasn't really giving her a massage.

Her briefs made it easy to see that area, greatly enhancing the accuracy of my thrusts, and the hot, moist sensation intensely stimulated me.

I rolled over and lay in her arms, moving my head to her chest, my mouth close to her soft breasts.

My left hand was under her, holding her waist, while my right hand moved over to her back. I said, "Mom, your skin is so smooth" (which it truly was), while my right hand moved across her back, gently stroking it.

Her right hand also moved to my back, and her left hand was on me, saying, "It's been so many years since I've felt like I'm taking care of a child," but there was no obvious movement.

Hearing her sigh, and with my mouth pressed tightly against her breast through her vest, I used my mouth to pull it open and suckle her nipple.

She said, "You think there's still milk?"

I continued sucking; although there was no milk, and her breasts were soft and not full, the nipple was still very fleshy.

My right hand increased the range of its caresses, from her shoulder to her buttocks to her thighs…

I felt her hand moving gently against my body.

I slipped my right hand inside her panties, directly caressing her buttocks and cleft, gently stroking her pubic hair. I felt her body tighten, felt the heat and moisture emanating from her opening.

My heart raced faster and faster. With a quick movement of my left hand, I flipped her over, pinning her down, and pulled her panties down with my right hand. She seemed to know what I was about to do; her legs clamped tightly together, her hands gripping the hem of her panties, saying, "I'm your mother-in-law." I said, "You're my mother, but can't a son-in-law be with his mother-in-law? Besides, I like you." She said, "I'm 28 years older than you, don't you think I'm too old?" I replied, "If I thought you were too old, I wouldn't like you so much. Besides, you have such a great figure and such smooth skin. So what if you're a few years older than me? I want you!" I

don't know if she wanted to have sex too, but although her hands were still gripping the hem of her pants, I could feel that her underwear had loosened. I lifted the hem of her pants and slid my penis down her thigh into her pants. The area around her opening was already wet and slippery. I thrust my hips down and easily inserted myself into her vagina. (It's unbelievable how similar things are in the world. The first time I slept with her daughter was with my wife, and I also penetrated her through her pants. You can imagine that she wasn't a department head at that time.)

As I thrust vigorously, she let out a pleasurable moan, her hands tightly holding my waist, her buttocks moving rhythmically up and down. What's even more amazing is that her vagina relaxed when my penis entered and tightened when I withdrew. This is a skill my wife doesn't have, and it's the only one I've encountered so far.

Perhaps it was the first time and I was too excited, or perhaps it was her gripping technique that made it hard for me to control myself; I ejaculated in just a few minutes.

I lay on top of her to rest for a while, then pulled my penis out. She pulled up her pants and said the sheets were dirty. I said it was okay, got out of bed to get a basin of water, and we washed the sheets together before lying back down.

She said she'd only ever heard of mothers-in-law and sons-in-law before, never expecting to actually experience it herself.

I said, "Isn't it good?" She said, "What's good about it? I just never had you!"

I said, "Even if you had me, I would still have done it, because you're so cute."

She said, "I'm 28 years older than you, after all."

I said, "Is that a problem? Your gripping technique drives me crazy!"

She gently pinched me and said, "Get lost!"
I said, "Mom, how did you get this skill?"

She said, "I don't know. It's just that when I was younger, your dad once slapped my butt, and when I tightened up, he said it felt good. After that, he would slap me a few times every time, and then he told me to tighten up more often. It gradually became a habit."

I told her that her gripping skills really made me feel great, and that she was really good at it. I was impressed. So, did you feel good about it? She laughed and pinched me. "If I didn't feel good, would I be gripping?"

Her action aroused my interest again. I hugged her tightly and said, "Mom, I'll give you a gripping experience."

She hugged me tightly too. "Didn't you do it with her last night?"

"Yes."

"Want more?"

I said, "Because you're so great!"

She said, "We can't do too much. "

I said, "No, Mom, I want more!"

I threw off the blanket, climbed on top of her, and pulled off her pants. I climbed between her legs and saw that her pubic hair was sparse, less than her daughter's. I could clearly see her fair skin through the pubic hair. A plump, glistening bead of flesh stood like a lighthouse in the night sky. The opening was half-open, half-closed. The two dark red labia were large and thick (why isn't my wife as fleshy as her mother's?). The few hairs stuck to the surface by the previous wetness looked like a few drunken immortals enjoying the aftermath of intercourse. I lowered my head and smelled the unique, pungent odor of semen mixed with vaginal fluid, which made my penis even harder and hotter.

I buried my head between her legs, took her opening into my mouth, and used my tongue to pry it open. With one suck, it felt as if a burst of fire, pungent in its scent, was being sprayed into my mouth. I sucked greedily.

She held my head tightly with both hands, her buttocks moving up and down involuntarily.

As I sucked on her opening, I rubbed the clitoris above it with my large nose. Although I swallowed mouthfuls of the fluid flowing from her opening, it still smeared all over my face.

I never expected a woman nearing 60 to be so wet!

Perhaps it was too stimulating, she moaned softly.

I continued to suck, and suddenly, I felt her buttocks sink, and her whole body relaxed.

I knew she had already passed her climax, so I reduced the intensity of my sucking, only gently licking the moisture around her opening and lightly playing with her two thick labia, my hands gently teasing her soft nipples.

After a while, her buttocks gently rose and fell with my licking. I climbed on top of her, and she hugged me tightly. I placed my penis at the entrance, moved it back and forth for a while, aimed it at the opening, and thrust it in hard to the bottom, holding it firmly for a full minute. Then I gently pulled out my penis, gently thrusting in and out about ten times, then thrust it in hard to the bottom again, gently rubbing the bottom with the head of my penis. She moaned and cried out in rhythm with me, and after several dozen rounds, she said weakly, "Baby, I'm about to die, send me to heaven."

I knew she had reached her climax, and it was time to send her on her way so I could enjoy her squeezing sensation.

I increased the force, thrusting hard and pumping rapidly. All I could hear were the sounds of slapping and squelching. After about a hundred thrusts, I felt the urge to ejaculate. I quickly grabbed her buttocks with both hands, shouting, "Mom, I'm going to cum!" A few more thrusts, and a gush of hot fluid shot into her. I continued thrusting until I squeezed the last drop into her hole, then collapsed onto her, completely still. It

took us a while to come to our senses.

She pulled me into her arms. "Son, you're amazing! I don't even know how many times you've made me feel like I'm dying!"

I said, "Mom, do you like this feeling of dying?"

She said, "I haven't felt good in years, let alone the feeling of dying."

"Do you like it?"

"Mom likes it! It's just tiring for you."

"I like it too. As long as Mom is happy, I'm willing to be tired!"

"But you can't just think of me, there's her too."

I said, "It's okay, I can satisfy her."

"She can't know about this," Mom said, a hint of worry on her face.

"No, I'll be careful with the timing. It's just tough on you as her mother," I comforted her.

"I'm fine. Just don't let her know. Otherwise, I really can't live."

"Don't worry. We'll both be careful, and we promise no one will find out!"

From then on, my mother-in-law and I frequently took advantage of various opportunities to have sex, which remained a secret and happy affair between us. Although she would sometimes stay at her son's place for a while (never for more than a month), she spent most of her time with us, perhaps related to our secret affair.

Although she is nearly seventy and shows signs of aging, and her pubic hair has all fallen out (leaving her completely white), she can no longer engage in the same passionate acts as before, and her intercourse is limited to a few strokes and cannot last long. Although she is wet, it is not overflowing with vaginal fluid. But perhaps because we resonate with each other and love each other, we have always been in perfect harmony, our bodies and souls connected (we still have sex five or six times a month).

This affair has lasted for over ten years, and no one else knows about it. Mother's Day is approaching, and I only wish her happiness every single day! If I can give her even a little happiness, I will never give her just a fraction!

I write this down for no other reason than to remind myself that incest is merely a manifestation of power. If both parties can handle it well and feel joy and happiness, then it is fate, it is what we should have.
[The End]

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