Memories are like a dream [Full text]

Memories Like a Dream

[Full Text]
Word Count: 22,000

Introduction

Everyone has various memories. Happy memories are intoxicating, while painful memories are
unforgettable . However, this memory of mine has haunted me for decades, troubling me day and night, endlessly nagging
at me. The feeling is indescribable, only to be understood intuitively.

Ever since receiving the phone call from my mother in our hometown, my heart has been filled with unease. Judging from her voice
, she seemed quite ill. My mother is almost seventy years old; could she really be passing away? After finishing
a few urgent official tasks, I quickly packed my things, and without saying goodbye to anyone, I set off.

The car bumped along the rugged mountain road, the bright headlights tearing through the darkness ahead. The engine
breathed a lonely sigh in the quiet valley, and the familiar mountains on both sides swayed and drifted past.

Sitting in the bumpy car, my thoughts drifted like dandelions in autumn. The Sounds

of Lust in the Middle of the Night

Rewind to the early 1970s, deep in the Taihang Mountains, there was a beautiful little village,
surrounded by green hills and shaded by trees. The people living there worked at sunrise and rested at sunset, repeating
a simple and honest life generation after generation.

My family lived on the east side of the village, in two courtyards separated by a winding path.
My grandmother lived in the two small mud-brick houses in the front courtyard, while my family lived in the three mud-brick houses with brick facades in the back courtyard.
My house was nestled against the hillside to the north of the village, some distance away, surrounded by shady trees, making it quite quiet.

There were seven people in my family. My father worked in the county town, about a hundred kilometers away, a five- or six-hour bike ride home.
My two older sisters did odd jobs with my father in the county town, and my two younger brothers lived with my grandmother year-round.
In reality, only my mother and I lived in the back courtyard. In the village at that time, both in terms of economic conditions
and living environment, my family was considered quite well-off.

The structure of rural housing was very simple. The front door of my house was in the middle of the room. To the left of the entrance were some farm tools and
household items. Behind the door was a row of chests and cabinets for storing clothes and grain. To the right was a simple partition door
with newspapers pasted on it. Opposite the partition door was a long fire pit against the east wall, and to the south was a large earthen
bed where my mother and I slept. Usually, I slept with my head facing west on the inside, and my mother with her head facing east on the outside.

Although it was the height of summer in July, the mountain village nights were still cool and breezy. In
those , the only thing I could do at night when I was only eight years old was to sleep.

The nights in the mountain village were unusually quiet, except for the faint barking of dogs in the distance and the occasional sound of
rats . After a day of running around, I lay down on the bed and quickly fell asleep.

"Hmm—"

"Ah—"

"Ouch—"

"Pat, pat, pat pat…"

Suddenly, I was awakened by a strange noise. By the dim light of a small lamp hanging above the partition door
, I saw my mother lying naked on the kang (a heated brick bed), with a naked man between her legs. The man
was thrusting his hips forcefully, his belly slapping against my mother's body. With each thrust, my mother made
various strange noises.

What were they doing? I suddenly remembered the phrase the children had used to curse. Yes, that's it, they must
be doing *that*. But who was doing it to my mother? I didn't dare make a sound, just watched curiously. Suddenly, the man increased
the pace of his thrusting, and after a series of smoky sounds, the room returned to silence.

After wiping themselves off, the man lay back on the kang, panting, while my mother nestled in his arms along the edge of the kang,
her right hand gently rubbing his penis.

"Isn't it beautiful?" my mother asked.

"It's almost unbearably beautiful, this is the most beautiful time," the man replied between breaths.

I recognized the man's voice as soon as he spoke; he was a neighbor from our front yard named Fuze. He was
strong and sturdy, with regular features, and quite a good match for my mother.

"Every time you say it's the most beautiful time, but which one is the most beautiful?" my mother asked coquettishly.

"Hmm—, the first time, I guess," the man replied somewhat evasively.

"You still remember the first time? Then tell me, how many years has it been?" my mother asked.

"I'll never forget it, twenty years," the man said.

"Come on, you still can't forget it? Let me tell you, eighteen years," my mother said, slightly boastful. "

You remember so accurately?" the man asked, unconvinced.

"Of course! I married here when I was eighteen, and now I'm thirty-six. You do the math, how many years has it been?" my mother
continued confidently, "Not only do I remember the time clearly, but I even know how many times we've been together."

"You're bragging. Tell me, how many times?"

"Including tonight, it's been two thousand one hundred and eight times."

The man laughed. "That's about a hundred times a year. I can't remember exactly how many times,
but I know I've had the most with you."

"Including your wife?" The mother seemed unconvinced.

"Yes."

"Weren't those four or five children your doing?"

"Children are children, how many times can they be used? There are 365 days in a year, and you've used her for over a hundred days. How many days
can ? I'm not made of iron." The man said aggrievedly.

"I've had the most with you too. My old man only comes home once a month or so, stays for a day or two, and then leaves. Even if
he comes twice a night, it's only about twenty times a year. I might as well say I'm your wife." The mother
said as she rolled over the man and started rubbing his penis with her other hand.

"Anyway, I'll never forget the first time." The man returned to the beginning of the topic.

The mother leaned up and kissed the man. "I can't forget it either," she said. "That year, I had my wedding ceremony on the third
day of the twelfth lunar month. The old man stayed for a week before going to work. He left during the day, and you came at night."

"I thought you were going to kick me out, but you didn't scold me," the man said.

"Why would I scold you? It was just a wedding ceremony, and he couldn't even last a dozen strokes a day before he ejaculated. I was so anxious."

"I was still a virgin back then." "

You were strong and healthy. That night, you caught me and did it five times."

"I was young then, but not now, at most twice."

"How many times tonight?" Mom seemed to be checking her head.

"Twice." The man seemed to answer without hesitation.

"You keep your word." Mom said sweetly.

"My darling, my sweet pussy, my good sister, when have I ever been coaxing you? After I've rested enough, I'll
definitely ." The man patted Mom's buttocks.

"Brother—, darling brother—, my mushroom-head brother—, you're really my good brother." Mom
said flirtatiously.

I was a little confused. "Sweet pussy sister," "mushroom-head brother," I was completely baffled. Fortunately,
the following words gave me the answer.

"Brother, is your sister good?"

"Good."

"What's good about her?" "

Everything about her. Good-looking, good-natured, and a good baby."

"What's the best about her?"

"The best about her."

The man said that Mom was good-looking and good-natured, which was the truth. Mom was almost forty, but she didn't look old at all.
She was full-figured but not plump, with fair skin, delicate features, and regular facial features. With her two long braids and wearing the floral dress
her father had bought from the city, she could rival any woman in her twenties in the village.
Everyone in the village, young and old, praised her for her eloquence, competence, and good manners. As for the "good baby," I initially thought she was referring to me, but later I
realized it wasn't like that at all.

"Isn't your wife's 'baby' good?" Mom asked.

"Her thing, it's black and big, hairless and dry, don't even mention it. How can it compare to yours? Yours has lots of hair,
lots of moisture, a tight opening, and it even makes a sound. Just hearing that sound of it going in and out is enough to make a man ecstatic," the man
said, not without praise.

"Yours is good too, thick and big, and lasts a long time. That big mushroom head is amazing, going in and out,
it makes me feel so good, even the tips of my hair feel amazing." Mom didn't hide anything. "Tell me,
who else has such a big mushroom head? We're a perfect match, like the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, a match made in heaven.
A hundred times better than that 'Azure Dragon and White Tiger' stuff they talk about."

...

Listening to Mom and the man's rambling conversation, I gradually became sleepy and fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning,
the man was gone, and Mom was cooking. There were still traces of two people sleeping on Mom's big pillow. I don't know
if they did it a second time.

From then on, I often woke up in the middle of the night to peek at Mom and the man doing that. Mom slept with
many . I knew five or six of them, and if I included the ones I didn't know, there were probably a dozen or twenty in total,
I can't say for sure. But the one she slept with the most was that mushroom-headed guy.

When I was in junior high school, one dark night, it was very late and no one had come. Just as I was getting ready for bed
, there was a knock on the door, and a man entered. He was a bachelor from the west end of the village. This guy was notorious in the village;
he was idle all day, lazy, and over thirty years old and still unmarried. Although we were from the same village, he
had never been to our house before. At least, I had never seen him.

My mother invited the bachelor to sit on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), and sat herself at the other end, asking, "Are you Xian?
What brings you here?"

The bachelor grinned and said, "Sister-in-law, I've been wanting to visit you for a while, but I haven't had the time.
I came back late from the back mountain today, and I just happened to pass by your door."

"Oh, you must be tired. Please rest. Let me pour you a bowl of water," my mother said politely.

"No, sister-in-law, I'll just sit for a while," the bachelor said sweetly.

"Then sit for a while," my mother said, no longer being polite, and went about her business on the edge of the kang. It seemed
my mother didn't like this man very much.

"Sister-in-law, you're such a clean person! Look at how tidy your house is, everything is in perfect order. You
won't find another house like this in the whole village. Everyone in the village, young and old, praises you for being polite, hardworking, and kind—it's all true.
My brother is so lucky to have a wife like you." The bachelor was quite the smooth talker.

The mother didn't respond to the bachelor's comment, but instead asked, "Brother, how old are you this year?"

"Over thirty, I guess," the bachelor mumbled.

The mother looked at him and said, "Thirty-five, aren't you? At over thirty, not having a wife isn't a good thing. You should hurry up and settle down, have a child every few years, to continue the family line. Besides, you'll have someone to take care of you
when you're old ." 　　The mother's words were neither too harsh nor too gentle, but they hit the nail on the head. The bachelor gave a wry smile and said, "Sister-in-law, you're the one who loves me the most. But I'm such a disappointment. Others have introduced me to several women, but I haven't liked any of them. I only like someone like you, even if you're ten or eight years older, I don't care." The bachelor started to skirt around the issue. 　　His mother said, "You're all grown up now, don't be so picky. How many days does a person live in their lifetime? Decades pass in the blink of an eye ." 　　The bachelor said, "No matter what, I don't want anyone but someone like you, sister-in-law." As he spoke, he moved closer to his mother, tugging at her sleeve. 　　His mother shook him off, saying, "Be serious. You're like a toad trying to eat swan meat." 　　"Sister-in-law, I truly love you," the bachelor said, tugging at his mother's sleeve again, which she again shook off. 　　Seeing that things weren't going well, the bachelor said coldly, "Sister-in-law, stop pretending. Everyone knows about you and Fuze. Aren't you afraid I'll tell my brother?" 　　"Go ahead and tell him, let's see who believes you. It won't do you any good. You decide what to do," the mother retorted, though her heart had softened. 　　Seeing the time was right, the bachelor grabbed the mother and tried to kiss her. The mother twisted her arms, seemingly struggling. The bachelor pulled her hands behind her back, holding them tightly with his left hand, and reached into her clothes to grope her breasts. After a while, the bachelor dragged the mother to her feet and put his hand inside her pants . 　　The mother gradually stopped resisting, letting the bachelor grope her everywhere. 　　A few minutes later, the mother began to moan. The bachelor released her hands and quickly turned off the light. The mother gave a reproachful "humph" and turned the light back on. The mother never turned off the light when they were having sex, saying that it wasn't satisfying or pleasurable in the dark.

The bachelor forced his mother onto the kang (a heated brick bed), quickly stripped her of her clothes, then undressed himself, spread her
legs, and began to have sex with her standing up.

His movements were rough, and his mother's cries were urgent. After a short

while, he stopped. He slowly withdrew his penis from her vagina, wiped it haphazardly a few times, then made her lie down,
spread her legs, and began to look at and touch her, clearly enjoying it.

While admiring her, he kept saying flattering things, but his mother lay there ignoring him.

"Good sister-in-law, it's getting late, you should rest. I'll go now, I'll come see you another day," the bachelor
said up.

"Go away, and don't ever come again," his mother said angrily.

The bachelor didn't know what to do, so he sat down beside his mother and continued to fondle her.

After a while, Mom bluntly said, "You're all beautiful now? You're leaving just like that? Are you going to leave tonight?
Aren't you going to let me sleep?"

The bachelor, as if waking from a dream, bent down and kissed Mom's nipple, saying, "Good sister-in-law, I know you're not completely beautiful
yet. Wait a minute, I'll make you beautiful a second time."

Mom didn't say anything, quietly letting the bachelor caress her.

A meal's worth of time passed, and the bachelor's penis still wouldn't get hard. He tried several times but couldn't penetrate, complaining
, "Your vagina is too tight."

Mom grew impatient, gesturing for the bachelor to lie down, and took his penis in her mouth. The bachelor's penis quickly
became hard.

The bachelor sat up, hugged Mom tenderly, and said affectionately, "Dear sister-in-law, I'll never
forget you." Then he rolled over and pressed down on Mom, thrusting into her vigorously.

The bachelor's movements were still very vigorous, but this time it lasted a long time. Mom's moans grew louder and louder;
this time she was definitely thoroughly enjoying herself.

After a passionate encounter, Mom suddenly cried out, "Mom! The door's still open!"

The bachelor, upon hearing this, immediately dressed, kissed Mom, and left. Mom got up, closed the door, and turned off the light,
muttering to herself, "A bachelor is a bachelor, he's got the energy, but he's too hasty."

He came a few more times after that, but not often, and then he stopped coming altogether.

As the saying goes, walls have ears. Eventually, Dad heard about Mom sleeping with other men
. That night, I woke up to find out that Mom and Dad were arguing.

"Tell me, how many men?" Dad demanded fiercely.

"Just one," Mom insisted definitively.

"Who is it?" Dad pressed.

"Don't you already know?" Mom countered.

"How many times?" Dad persisted.

"Just once," Mom relentlessly asserted.

"If you don't want to live, then let's go to the commune tomorrow and get a divorce. I can't stand this kind of anger," Dad said, his
words a mix of gentleness and firmness.

Hearing about the divorce, Mom cried, "Fine, let's get a divorce! Who cares about whom? How many times a year do you even come home? I've
been farming and harvesting all by myself, raising the young and the old alone.
I've suffered so much since marrying you. Other women have men to take care of them, but what's the difference between me and a widow? I'm sorry, but I'm a person too.
You haven't come for so long, I just can't take it anymore... I haven't been bad to you, I promise I'll never do
it again..."

Mom sobbed, and Dad fell silent.

Perhaps to express her remorse, or perhaps due to hormones, about half an hour later, Mom
turned to the side and placed her hand between Dad's legs. The blanket on Dad quickly billowed up.

Dad kicked off the blanket and climbed onto Mom's stomach. This time, neither of them spoke, but their voices suggested they were both
satisfied .

Despite the arguments and disagreements, life had to go on. Later, Dad still came home once a month
or 　　so, stayed Mom continued to coax those men, and neither of them... ( The　　rest of the text appears to be unrelated and possibly machine-
generated gibberish .) Mom nodded. "No, I didn't do anything to get a better look at her vagina." Several days had passed since I changed the light bulb, and no 　　man had come. I was somewhat disappointed, afraid that one day Mom would it with a smaller bulb, and all my efforts would be in vain. 　　That night, as usual, I went to bed early and slowly fell asleep while anxiously waiting. Suddenly, a familiar voice woke me from my sleep. Before I even opened my eyes, I felt the presence of a bright light, and I was secretly delighted. I squinted and looked towards where Mom was sleeping, but I only saw Mom alone. It turned out Mom was masturbating. 　　My mother lay on the kang (a heated brick bed), a pillow under her buttocks, legs spread apart. With her left hand, she repeatedly inserted and withdrew a carrot, while her right middle finger slid rapidly above her vulva, making a "plop" sound similar to a man's during intercourse. She involuntarily made "hmm" and "ah" sounds. Because her hand was constantly blocking her vulva, I couldn't see clearly. 　　My mother masturbated quickly, and soon felt a tightness in her muscles, and the pleasure subsided. 　(When I saw my mother masturbating with the carrot, I suddenly remembered that in the afternoon, my mother had soaked a carrot by the fire. 　　The next day, I found the carrot still soaking in the pot. I picked it up and looked at it; the top of the carrot had been removed, and the front was rounded, somewhat resembling a man's penis. Later, the carrot disappeared; I wondered if my mother had used it for cooking.)

My mother doesn't masturbate often; I've seen it a few times before.

She usually has many men seeking her out, so six or seven days without a single man is unusual.

Four or five more lonely days passed, and still no man came. My mother's mood plummeted, and
her temper worsened. My mother is a woman with a strong sex drive; life without a man is
unimaginable for her.

On Saturday afternoon, I finished my homework early, conserving my energy, hoping for a miracle that night.

It was already late. My mother washed her genitals and feet with a basin of water, preparing for bed.

As I drifted off to sleep, I vaguely heard a knock at the door. My mother immediately ran over and whispered,
"Who is it?"

"It's me," came a man's voice.

My mother let the man in and bolted the door. I squinted and saw it was Mushroom Head.

Mushroom Head walked to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) to sit down when his mother suddenly grabbed his shoulders, trembling as she said,
"My dear brother, my Mushroom Head brother, I've missed you so much!" As she spoke, she
kissed Mushroom Head, then reached into his crotch.

She was practically obsessed with men; before he could even take his pants off, she knelt down and took
his penis her mouth, sucking and licking it, making sounds like she was licking an ice cream cone. Her hands tightly gripped
his scrotum. Mushroom Head touched his mother's face, sometimes tilting his head back and closing his eyes, sometimes looking down at her.

He then stood up, pulled her down onto the kang, stripped off his clothes, squatted down, and buried his head between
her legs. I couldn't see his face from inside, but judging from his movements and sounds, it seemed like he was slowly
licking her.

Mom struggled desperately, whispering, "Brother. Quick. Do me." Before she finished speaking, her juices sprayed
all over Mushroom Head's face. He dodged, and the spray went straight to the wall behind him, like urination. But urination
doesn't have that much force.

Mushroom Head seemed to have no intention of doing anything. He lifted Mom's legs, freeing himself from the bed, and lay down on it.
I squinted and saw a large patch of black pubic hair on Mushroom Head's stomach, extending all the way above his navel. His
thick penis throbbed incessantly, like a rabbit holding a small umbrella. His large scrotum was tightly
clenched, looking like it could hold two eggs.

Mom climbed off the bed and pounced on Mushroom Head, catching his throbbing penis in her mouth. At this moment,
Mom knelt between Mushroom Head's legs, her buttocks right in front of my face. The opportunity I had longed for had finally arrived.
I opened my hungry eyes wide, carefully searching every corner.

The dark brown area around Mom's vagina was swollen and bulging, like a steaming hot bun,
or two inflated balls squeezed together. A slit in her vagina seemed to open and close, revealing her pink vulva.
Two labia minora peeked out from the slit, tender, firm, and plump,
like . A little higher, her round anus resembled a blooming chrysanthemum, its radiating wrinkles like unfolding
petals. Mom was overflowing with vaginal fluid, her thick pubic hair glistening.
Glistening drops of fluid, like pearls, clung to her labia minora and the tips of her pubic hair, growing larger and longer, dripping onto the bed. Mom
's vulva and anus contracted repeatedly, each contraction squeezing out more fluid that flowed
slowly Her round vulva opened and closed, like magic. A beauty
mark the size of a mung bean was beautifully set on her left mons pubis. Mom kept wiggling her hips, a faint
scent of vagina wafting from her opening.

Just as I was watching intently, Mom suddenly lunged forward and squatted on top of Mushroom Head, one hand holding his penis, Mushroom
Head pressing against her vulva, making slight adjustments, and then forcefully sitting down. With a "plop," her penis and nipples were
swallowed into her vagina. Mom and Mushroom Head simultaneously let out a long sigh.

Mom sat on Mushroom Head, tilting her head back and forth, swaying back and forth and side to side. Mushroom Head
would occasionally thrust hard from below, causing Mom to moan intermittently.

After a while, Mushroom Head pushed Mom down onto the bed, crawled between her legs, and, supporting himself on the bed with his arms,
began to have sex with her properly. Mushroom Head's movements were very steady and rhythmic. When entering, he would first press against her vulva
, gently push, letting his penis slide in halfway, then forcefully thrust in all the way. When pulling out, first lift
the mushroom head to the vaginal opening, pause briefly, then pull it out completely with force. With each thrust of the mushroom head, the vaginal opening
makes a "plop" and "thump" sound, quite crisp and loud. The mushroom head's special movements
seem to amplify the sound.

Watching my mother and the mushroom head having so much fun, listening to my mother's moans and the sounds of her vagina, my blood boiled,
my lust was uncontrollable, and I involuntarily reached for my penis, which was as hard as a drill. Waves of pleasure quickly
spread from my center throughout my body.

When the mushroom head reached its peak, it would say a series of lewd words to my mother after each thrust, and for a time, the sounds of vaginal bleeding, moans, belly sounds, and
lewd whispers rose and fell, never ceasing.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

"Absolutely beautiful."

"Where is it beautiful?"

"My baby is beautiful."

"What's your name, baby?"

"My name is 'pussy.'

" "What kind of pussy?"

"A loud pussy."

Every time Mom said "loud pussy," Mushroom Head would suddenly climb on Mom's stomach and fuck her wildly. Finally, the two of them
would hug each other tightly, their bodies convulsing violently as they reached the peak of pleasure.

All my muscles were tense to the extreme, and I shuddered, ejaculating a thick stream of semen onto the blanket.

So beautiful! If one person is this beautiful, how beautiful must Mom and Mushroom Head be! I thought to myself as I
secretly wiped myself with my underwear and placed it on my stomach. This was my first time experiencing sexual pleasure. With this experience,
I would often watch Mom and other men having sex and secretly enjoy it myself.

Mushroom Head climbed off Mom's stomach, pulled down Mom's long underwear to wipe himself, wiped Mom again, and said some incoherent things to
Mom . After resting for a while, he got up and left.

After I ejaculated, my body went limp like a puddle of mud; I didn't even have the strength to open my eyes, and my mind was completely
blank . Although my mother was still naked, I had no interest in looking anymore.

In my dazed state, I vaguely heard a soft knocking on the door. My experience of secretly watching my mother for over a decade had instilled in me a deep sense of...
The sound was unusually sensitive.

Mom heard it too, and walked naked to the door, asking softly, "Who is it?"

"It's me." Another man.

Mom let the man in; it was the village secretary.

Mom knew what the secretary had come for. She lay naked, exposing her vulva, teasing the secretary's
crotch . The secretary quickly stripped naked and lay down, one hand already on Mom's vulva.

Suddenly, the secretary sat up, parting her vulva with both hands, examining it closely.

"Who did you do it with?" The secretary clearly already knew.

"I was just thinking about men and getting all wet. Who did I do it with?" Mom said.

"That wasn't vaginal fluid," the secretary said definitively.

"If it wasn't vaginal fluid, then what is it? So suspicious. If you want to do it, do it; if you don't, forget it. I'm too lazy to serve you anyway,"
Mom said petulantly.

The secretary leaned forward, but didn't leave. It seemed the secretary wasn't going to be disgusted by what was inside her vulva.
The secretary used to be fond of kissing vulvas, but tonight he definitely wouldn't.

Mom stopped talking and made the Party Secretary lie on his back on the kang (a heated
brick .

Mom's buttocks were once again pressed against my face. I stared at Mom's vulva and saw a clump of white, sticky
stuff stuck to the side; it was clearly not vaginal fluid.

The Party Secretary's penis grew hard. He pulled Mom's arm, and she lay down. He turned to his left
, put Mom's right leg over himself, exposing her vulva, and then stretched his own right leg between her legs. He
aimed his penis at her vulva and inserted it upwards, then began to rub it in. While rubbing, he also used
his right middle finger to dab some vaginal fluid and smear it around Mom's vulva.

The Party Secretary was over sixty years old, the oldest of the men, and his stamina was clearly failing. Mom,
however, surprised me; she continued to moan and groan.

The Party Secretary rubbed for quite a while, then sped up a dozen times before stopping. It seemed he had already come.

The Party Secretary stood up, dressed neatly, and left with a parting remark: "Tell me who you sleep with next time. I
don't want to produce semen from kissing a woman's vagina."

My mother saw him off, locked the door, and muttered, "Giving you a nice old lady is already a favor, and you're still
being picky . 'Xiangxiang's vagina' isn't just for you." Then she flopped onto the kang (heated brick bed), turned off the light, and went to sleep.

The next morning, I lifted my mother's blankets and saw the sheets stained and scattered with pubic
hairs of unknown origin.

I had been blazing in the light on my mother for over a month, probably twenty times. I knew every inch of her body,
every nook and cranny. Later, my mother said the light bulb was too big and used too much electricity, so she had a man I didn't know buy
a smaller bulb and replace it. I was too embarrassed to change it to a bigger one, so I could only see her in the dark from then on. Fortunately, the full image of "Xiangxiang's vagina"
was deeply imprinted in my mind, and I could review it anytime.

An Unexpected Surprise

: After starting university, I reluctantly said goodbye to my mother.

University lasts three years, and even during holidays when I returned home, my mother never showed up. Would I ever see my mother, so carefree and unrestrained? I feared I would never have the chance again, I thought dejectedly. Finally, I

finished my three years of university life and was assigned a job in a government office in the county town. My
future .

While I was in university, my father had brought my mother to live with us in the county town. By then, my two older sisters were already married, and my
two younger brothers were in high school and university, both boarding at school. So now it was just my father, mother, and
me at home.

We lived in a small two-room house in the county town. The first room was the living room, and to the east were two
bedrooms of similar size, one in front and one behind. Opposite the living room door was a small kitchen. My parents lived in the front bedroom, and I lived in the back
bedroom.

I hadn't seen my mother make love for years, and now that she was back, I really wanted to see it. The desire to relive those memories
grew stronger day by day, and the longer it went on, the stronger the urge became. I started racking my brains, trying all sorts of methods.

Against the east wall of the living room stood a large iron fire used for heating in winter, its chimney shooting directly into the front
bedroom , then up and turning into my bedroom. Even so, because the fire burned so brightly in winter,
I didn't feel cold at all, even when I was naked in the bedroom. In summer, after the chimney was removed, a large, round hole remained in the wall separating the two bedrooms
. I first moved a table to the front, then placed a chair on it, and stood on the chair to
look through the hole into the front bedroom. Unfortunately, apart from half a window in the front room and a glass
frame , I couldn't see anything. I repeatedly adjusted the angle of the frame, hoping to see my mother's bed through it, but
at most I could only see a strip of the bedside. Even so, I still moved the table and chair over to look through the hole whenever there was any movement. Most of
the time, I could only see Dad's two legs straining; by the time I saw all four legs, the battle was usually over.

Summer passed quickly, and the hole came in handy in winter, so I had to keep looking for other
solutions. After careful observation, I discovered that the door to Mom's bedroom was warped, the latch was useless,
and when the door was closed, the lower half always had a gap more than a finger's width. I tried peeking through the gap and
could see most of the bed. This was a godsend for me. Later, whenever there was any noise in the front room, I
would tiptoe to the door to peek, but due to the limited viewing angle and distance, even the most intense scenes
couldn't compare the shock of seeing it in person. As time went on, the more I looked, the more suffocated I felt; I always felt that listening
was more satisfying. Alas, what could I do? I just made do and endured it day after day.

The following summer, the temple fair in the county town was exceptionally lively, with operas performed day and night on the stage in the south of the town—
a good place for people to cool off and escape the summer heat. Dad is a big theater enthusiast; he often sits in the audience all day. That
evening, right after dinner, Dad said, "Let's go see a play." Mom said, "Okay," and they left one after the other.

I didn't want to see the play, so I wandered aimlessly around the streets for a long time before returning home. I wanted to pour myself a glass of water,
grab a book, and lie in bed to while away the night; I like to kill time like that.

As I went to the living room to get the thermos, I heard a very painful groan coming from Mom's bedroom. Mom...
"Weren't you supposed to be watching a play? Why are you home? Mom must be sick and came back alone. She
doesn't really like watching plays, and she often leaves Dad behind when she comes home." Thinking this, I put down the thermos and
headed towards Mom's bedroom.

I pushed open the door and was immediately stunned by what I saw. Mom and Dad were naked, making love.
Mom was lying on her back on the bed, her legs wide apart, feet pointing upwards, toes almost touching the insteps. Her hands
were clenched into claws, grasping and releasing in the air. Her mouth was open, her eyes closed, and her muscles were taut
like . Dad was on top of Mom, his hands gripping her shoulders, his legs kicking the sheets, his body
convulsing and trembling, his penis inside her thrusting deeper and deeper. Clearly, Mom and Dad were
enjoying the pleasure of orgasm.

It dawned on me—the groan I heard wasn't from pain, but from pleasure.
How could the groans of pain and pleasure be so similar?

The layout of my parents' bedroom was simple. To the right of the entrance was a window, and behind the door sat an old box on a stool
. To the left was a long table with some books and a lamp, which was now emitting
a bright light. Directly opposite the door was a double bed. The room wasn't big, and the double bed was less than a meter from the door
; just one step inside and you were right next to it. I was standing almost touching the bed, right where my father could
stretch out his legs , and I could easily reach out and touch his buttocks.

My mind seemed to have gone haywire; I stood there, frozen in front of the bed, my legs rooted to the ground. Neither of them
noticed my presence. This was understandable; at that moment, one's consciousness is completely detached from the body
. Instinctively, I stared between my mother's legs; I couldn't see her genitals at all, and even her anus was hidden by

my father's bulging scrotum. 　　The climax slowly subsided, and Mom's body gradually went limp. She stretched her arms out on the bed, her legs draped over Dad 's buttocks, and let out a powerful moan, beginning her descent from heaven back to earth. Dad's trembling , and he slowly moved between Mom's legs, as if the afterglow still lingered on that spot. 　　Mom's breathing calmed, and she opened her hazy eyes. When she saw me, her face immediately turned as red as a carrot. 　　Mom nudged Dad's shoulder, but he ignored her, continuing to move that spot. Mom grew impatient and whispered angrily in Dad's ear, "Child." 　　Upon hearing this, Dad immediately knelt on the bed, his penis withdrawing with a "thud" from Mom's vulva. 　　My God! I shuddered. Through Dad's legs, Mom's exposed vulva was laid bare before . Mom had gained weight; her plump, round breasts were even fuller. Her pubic hair clung damply to her skin, and her stretched pubic slit hadn't closed yet. Her labia minora resembled upright cat ears, one side sticking out, the other side. A pearl the size of a red bean shimmered, and below it, the pink vulva was barely visible, like a fairy's slightly parted red lips, or a peach blossom just beginning to bloom in March. The pink flesh around the vulva formed a circle, and in the center, a pool of water shimmered, inspiring endless fantasies. 　　Dad, startled, knelt on the bed, his penis quickly becoming soft and long, dangling between his legs. A mixture of vaginal fluid and semen dripped down his glans, and a few strands of Mom's pubic hair clung to his walnut-like scrotum. 　　Faced with Mom's alluring beauty, my penis thrust forward recklessly, my thoughts racing like wildfire.

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