A Lifetime [Full Text]

A Lifetime

[Full Text]
Word Count: 10,000

I have never seen my father since I was born. My mother told me that he had
passed away before I was born, and I was a posthumous child. Strangely, my mother had no relatives in the city where I grew up.
I often wondered if they had disappeared like my father.

In my mother's description, my father was a learned and refined scholar. He left behind only a few yellowed black-and-white
photos, not even a single picture of him with my mother. My mother explained that they were burned by the rebels. From the photos my mother
cherished , my father's handsome face and refined military bearing became my idol.

My mother was young and beautiful. I know from the household registration that she was just 15 years old when she gave birth to me.

My mother was a kindergarten teacher. From my earliest memories, I remember that my mother doted on me immensely.
Almost any request was fulfilled. Even unreasonable tantrums like "wanting the moon or choosing stars"
were never scolded by my mother; instead, she would patiently coax me until I was happy.

After I started elementary school, my mother began to be strict with me. Having always gotten what I wanted as a child
, I went from misunderstanding to resentment towards her strictness. My mother, in desperation, resorted to corporal punishment, but
this backfired . I deliberately went astray and associated with many hooligans and scoundrels.

One time, my mother's scolding and beating drove me to run away from home. When my worried mother finally found me,
tearfully begging me to come home, I made her promise not to scold or punish me again. She had no choice but to swear. After that,
no matter how much my mother pleaded, I continued to misbehave. My mother often wept helplessly over my father's photograph…

My mother could no longer discipline me, and I gradually went astray.

Having only a vague understanding of women, I once competed with some hooligans to see who knew more about women. My
ignorance drew ridicule from everyone, and feeling deeply humiliated, I often spied on women bathing.

One day, by chance, my mother became my target. She was so beautiful, and I
couldn't resist my voyeuristic desires. The descriptions of sex by the hooligans and my mother's perfect naked body constantly stimulated me, making me
often fantasize about having relations with women.

When I was in junior high school, a group of hooligans tied up a woman with ropes and took turns raping her, making me
a juvenile delinquent . Terrified, I severed all ties with them. But at 14, beginning puberty, my desires
grew stronger, and I yearned even more for my mother's body, who was not yet 30.

One day, I finally lost control and went to my mother's bedroom,
raping . Her silence allowed me to release my pent-up desires brutally and completely.

Afterwards, my mother reacted frantically, initially hitting me relentlessly, then desperately holding me and weeping. Finally,
she wept incessantly, tenderly and painfully applying medicine to my wounds. I was terrified and dared not move.

In the days that followed, my mother stopped speaking to me and often cried alone.

My mother's grief filled me with immense guilt. For the first time, I took the initiative to admit my mistakes and beg for her forgiveness. Although
she continued to silently care for me, she was constantly on guard, avoiding me and resolutely refusing
to speak to me, revealing that she had no intention of forgiving me.

Her refusal to forgive and her endless weeping made me even more fearful and uneasy, and I resolved to study hard to beg for
her forgiveness. My intelligence, hard work, and timely remedial efforts led to a rapid rise in my grades, earning
praise from my teachers and the envy of other parents. My transformation gradually eased my mother's sorrow. But I
knew that without perseverance, I could not make up for my mistakes.

My mother began to show me caring greetings again, but I often saw her secretly shedding tears. With incredible
perseverance, I graduated excellently from junior high school and successfully entered a prestigious
key high school with the highest score in the city.

When I, now completely excellent and well-behaved, presented my report card to my mother and confessed my mistakes, I realized
that had already forgiven me long ago. When I was moved to tears after my efforts earned my mother's forgiveness,
she comforted me, telling me she didn't resent me. When I told her
I would commit suicide if she still wouldn't forgive me, she was terrified and agitated, pulling me into her arms and crying, forbidding me from having such thoughts, and
apologizing for her neglect of me for the past two years. My pent-up resentment turned into loud sobs, and we cried together in each other's arms
.

As we calmed down, she reiterated her promise, telling me that no matter how big my
mistake , I must never have suicidal thoughts, and she would forgive me. I looked at her in disbelief. Seeing my
expression, she swore that no matter what mistakes I made in the future, she would never blame me.

I hadn't expected that unintentionally exaggerating my remorse would make my mother more forgiving. I excitedly
hugged and kissed her, and she responded even more warmly. During this holiday, my mother and I seemed to have forgotten the past; our relationship
was incredibly harmonious, and our home was filled with warmth and laughter.

Because my mother was also a teacher, she could spend all day with me. I also had time to go shopping with her and
do housework together. My happy mother radiated beauty, more beautiful and charming than ever before, often making me
lose control, but I never dared to be disrespectful to her again.

At 15, I was already a tall boy of over 170 cm, but when I was with my mother, my classmates often
thought she was my older sister. Sometimes, when I deliberately told my mother about my classmates' opinions, she would
giggle with pride and shyness, which made my heart flutter...

The unexpected event on my 16th birthday completely changed my relationship with my mother.

Since it was winter vacation and the Lunar New Year was approaching, my mother prepared to celebrate my birthday for the first time to add some joy.

When I was about to make a wish, my mother, in the dreamy candlelight, wore a white nightgown that accentuated her slender figure,
her long hair flowing like a waterfall, and her beautiful face with mischievous eyes and an incomparably charming smile, was like a
Greek goddess sculpture.

Facing my mother, I suddenly changed my mind about the wish I was going to make. I closed my eyes, solemnly made a wish I
intended to cherish for a lifetime, and my seriousness made my mother laugh incessantly, relentlessly pressuring me to say it.

Pressed, I felt a pang of sadness, and my mother tenderly stroked me, letting me lean against her, urging me to speak
my heart and share my burdens.

This wish was too difficult for me to utter, and I declined, saying, "How wonderful it would be if Father could share this
joy !"

My mother fell silent. Her reaction was strange, her face revealing resentment and sorrow. I was terrified and quickly
apologized . My mother weakly collapsed into my arms, sobbing. I kept stroking her back, apologizing for
hurting her. My mother shook her head, saying it wasn't my fault. Curious, I asked her if she hated my father. She nodded, then shook
her head again, bursting into tears.

I quickly comforted her. After she calmed down, I gently consoled her, hoping she would tell me her
troubles. I noticed helplessness and sadness in her eyes, filled with confusion and despair. She shook her head,
unwilling . I said, "I'm grown up now, I understand, and I want to share your burdens." My mother remained silent.

What should have been a joyous birthday turned into my mother drinking incessantly, ignoring my pleas and
downing glass after glass of wine. I couldn't contain my anger and suddenly snatched the bottle, downing it in one gulp. My mother stared in shock
, begging me to stop, but I ignored her, finishing the bottle in one go and smashing it. My head
immediately spun, and my mother rushed to support me. I soon collapsed, unconscious.

Late that night, when I awoke, I found myself lying in bed, covered by a thick, warm quilt
. My mother lay beside me, fully clothed. Being so close to her, I was struck by the beauty of her face, so delicate and beautiful
, untouched by time, yet bearing a faint trace of sadness, tears still visible.

A pang of pain shot through me, and I instinctively embraced her.

My mother awoke, but offered no resistance, silently letting me hold her. I encouraged her to tell me about her
past , vowing that if she did, I would tell her my own secrets.

My mother looked at me helplessly, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, I felt I should be brave and make her
helplessness disappear. I hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear that I loved her more than anything,
that she was so beautiful and captivating that I couldn't resist her, and that I dreamed she would let me repeat
the mistake I made when I was 14.

My mother stared at me, her mouth slightly open, dumbfounded. I couldn't help but kiss her soft lips. She
pushed me away, and I desperately swore that if my wish could come true, I would be willing to die immediately.

Hearing that I wanted to die, my mother covered my mouth in horror, preventing me from saying anything more. She begged me to
give up the idea; I was her son, and she would never let me have an incestuous relationship with her. I was utterly disappointed and closed my eyes in
despair . At that moment, I felt I had lost the meaning of life.

I was desperate. My mother was crying softly beside me. After a long period of blankness, I
kissed her lips as if relieved, got out of bed, and went to the sofa in the living room to calm myself down.

Although my mind was clear, I was completely drunk. I slipped and fell, and shards of a broken bottle mercilessly
cut my arm. I stared blankly at the deep wound on my hand, letting the blood flow, feeling no
pain .

My mother heard the sound of my fall and rushed out of my bedroom. Seeing me,
she cried out in alarm, "Xiaowei, don't do this!"

She rushed to me frantically, hugged me, and burst into tears. After a moment, she helped me up, still somewhat dazed,
and went into the bedroom. Sadly and carefully, she cleaned and bandaged my wound. After finishing, she looked at me with tears in her eyes
and said sorrowfully, "Please, whatever you want, Mom will agree to it. Please don't do this again, Mom begs you!"

I nodded and vowed, "I'm sorry, Mom, I'll never worry you again."

My mother hugged me and cried, moved. I gently stroked her smooth back, searching for her lips. She
didn't resist, letting me fully enjoy the sweet and wonderful feeling.

In bed, my mother made me obediently undress. As I shyly guided her, I inserted my
well penis into her warm, moist, narrow vagina. My tense mother couldn't help but
groan in pain. I deliberately remained still and gentle. My mother gratefully kissed me passionately, gradually relaxing her body, allowing me to
enter and exit smoothly.

My mother's burning vagina enveloped me, allowing me to return to the deepest part of her body after 16 years. After
deeply injecting my vibrant life force into my mother's depths, I wept in her arms, repeatedly
thanking her.

My mother gently kissed me, causing the part of me still attached to her body to quickly recover, making me even
stronger as I began to penetrate her.

…After two storms, when my mother lay weakly in my arms, the happiness I felt was
indescribable . I felt that after successfully entering the deepest part of my mother's body, I was fully capable of entering her tightly closed
heart.

Finally, after my constant pleas and encouragement, my mother tearfully told me a secret that shocked me beyond measure.

Back then, my mother's father, who was also my maternal grandfather (let's call him that for now), was a gangster
boss . My mother was his only daughter. My maternal grandmother died from excessive blood loss after giving birth to my mother. My grandfather
raised my mother, but considering that he was the only son in three generations and that my mother would not be able to continue the family line, he remarried.

My mother was only 14 years old at the time, but my stepmother had already laid a trap to usurp his position. My grandfather was betrayed and
surrounded by rebellious gangsters in his home. Knowing that he could not escape death, my grandfather fought back with his gun. Because my grandfather
was terrifyingly skilled, the rebellious gangsters were afraid of his strength, and the two sides were deadlocked inside and outside the house.

Suddenly, my grandfather began to gamble wildly, kneeling and begging my mother, who was also my grandfather's own
daughter, to continue the family line that was about to be completely extinguished, in place of my grandfather, who was also my mother's biological father.

My mother, who was old enough to understand, could not resist my grandfather's desperate pleas and tearfully agreed to his request, vowing that if
she gave birth to a boy, she would fulfill her father's wish to continue the family line.

Afterwards, my maternal grandfather shot himself, and my mother fled her home to this city. She bravely gave birth to me and
found a job as a kindergarten teacher to raise me, living a life of anonymity.

I finally understood everything: my mother's father, my maternal grandfather, was my biological father. The
woman weeping in my arms, the first woman in my life, was my biological mother, and also my
sister!

My heart was filled with deep sympathy for my mother's painful experience, and I was moved by her extraordinary strength. I
lovingly embraced her and whispered, "Mom, my beloved mom, God has made you suffer so much
. You are a great mother! Let your son bear this pain for you! I love you."

My mother finally broke down in tears, as if releasing all the pain she had buried deep inside for 16 years
, and we clung to each other once more.

Released from her pent-up suffering, she fell peacefully and happily asleep in my arms; perhaps
this was the first time in 16 years that she had truly relaxed and slept soundly. I couldn't calm down. I secretly vowed that from now on,
I would make my mother...

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A Lifetime [Full Text]

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