[My Relationship with My Mother][Part 1]

After carrying several bags of things into the room, I was exhausted and covered in sweat. Before I could even drink some water, my mother followed me in, carrying a cardboard box.

"Mom, there's no hot water, just make do..." I offered her a bottle of mineral water. But she didn't take it. Her arched eyebrows furrowed as she paced back and forth in the small room, less than 30 square meters.

"How can anyone live in such poor conditions?" she muttered to herself, a hint of resentment in her voice...

"It's alright! I'm all grown up now, I have to learn to take care of everything!" I gently comforted her, opening the boxes and taking out the utensils to arrange on the bed.

My mother sighed quietly and said nothing more. She quickly pulled her hair back, went to the balcony to change into slippers, rolled up her trousers, and started mopping the floor for me. There were only two rooms; it seemed the previous owner had been quite nice, as the room was generally clean. I only brought a few simple items, and soon my mother and I finished cleaning the room.

Seeing that it was getting late, my mother and I went to the small restaurant downstairs for dinner. We ordered a few simple dishes, and neither of us spoke.

My suggestion to move out was too sudden. My mother only has one child, and I'm still in high school, so she's always worried about me and suspects we've grown distant. She's been feeling uneasy. I want to swear that this is definitely related to her, but it's not because we've become estranged. I could only tell her I wanted to live closer to school so I could focus on my studies.

The meal was a bit somber; my mother was probably tired, as she kept repeating the precautions for living alone. Looking at her concerned and loving eyes, I almost wanted to move back immediately, but I forced myself to suppress the thought. It was almost dark when we finished eating, but my mother insisted on going upstairs for a while, so I had no choice but to go with her.

"The water heater doesn't seem to be working properly, and the kitchen utensils aren't complete. I'll get you some more later... Also, make sure to lock the door properly at night, these days..." Mom's eyes welled up with tears as she spoke, and she secretly wiped them away from me. "Mom, don't worry! I'll come to your place this weekend anyway, and besides, it's not like we're worlds apart..." I felt my voice choke up, and I could barely continue.

The marks of time had crept onto Mom's face; fine lines appeared around her eyes and lips. It seemed like only a few days had passed, and a few strands of gray had appeared in her once beautiful hair... After much gentle persuasion, Mom finally left my little apartment.

From now on, I would be living alone, although it wasn't complete independence, since Mom and I were still in the same city, and I had promised her I would visit her whenever I had time off.

After seeing Mom off, I carefully looked at the furnishings again. This would be my little nest from now on, and a feeling of joy washed over me, all my fatigue vanishing. I plugged in the computer, brought up a hidden folder, and examined the photos inside one by one. These are all photos of my mother, some casual snapshots, others stills from dramas.

On the screen, my mother is wearing an ancient costume and headdress, smiling with pursed lips, her eyelids heavily made up, her clear, watery eyes radiating an alluring light. The lipstick on her lips shines, making them appear full, moist, and luscious. I realized I was showing signs of losing control again, sighed, and opened my notebook.

The first Saturday after International Women's Day, I finally moved out of that home that filled me with guilt. To this day, my mother still doesn't know why I moved out, but how could I tell her? Dear Mom… Just now, the moment you rolled up your trousers and bent over to mop the floor, the way your fair feet and shoes opened and closed almost made me want to pounce on you, undo your belt, and insert my genitals into the place that gave birth to me. You usually dress so conservatively, even in this hot weather, wearing long sleeves and trousers, but whenever your mature, feminine body gets close to me, my breath quickens. So many times you come home, change into slippers, and reveal your beautiful, fair feet—enough! Even the slightest bit of skin exposed makes my penis instantly erect, especially when you lift your hips and stand on tiptoe to hang your bag on the coat hanger. I desperately want to hug you from behind and press our genitals together tightly against the wall…

This feeling grows stronger and stronger, and I'm terrified that one night I won't be able to control myself and will sneak in while you're asleep, pressing my body against your mature form… Oh! Just thinking about this makes my penis swell again. I know this shouldn't be happening; you're my mother…

“Xiaowei, come home early today, Mom will make you something delicious!” My mother called my nickname, her loving voice coming from the other end of the phone. “Um… okay, I'll be back after I shower…” I stammered, frantically rolling up the towel into a ball. It was covered in my semen, the result of fantasizing about pressing myself against my mother's mature, voluptuous body. Even though I knew no one would see, I still felt guilty and quickly went to the bathroom to throw the towel into the sink.

This was the first time my mother and I had dinner together after a week apart. My mother busied herself preparing a huge feast. Most of the dishes were heavy on meat and oil. I know my mother prefers light flavors and loves vegetables, so she must have thought I often ate instant noodles alone outside, so she specially arranged this for me. "Is it good, Xiaowei?" "So good!" My stomach was so full, I almost felt like it was going to overflow. But seeing my mother's loving gaze, I forced myself to eat more meat and fish. I slumped on the sofa, my belly protruding, loosening my belt a few turns and panting. I had eaten too much today, and my face and arms were covered in sweat. "Mom, turn the air conditioning up a bit!" My mother found my appearance amusing; she could tell she was in a good mood.

The air conditioner in our house wasn't a standing type and couldn't be remote-controlled. My mother went to the wall and fiddled with it. That scene that stirred my desire appeared without any warning. A graceful and beautiful woman stood on tiptoe, her left hand on the wall, her right hand reaching for the buttons. Soft toes peeked out from the shoe, gripping the ground. The toes were pink from engorgement. Rounded heels lifted off the ground, and a small row of irregular wrinkles lined the delicate soles. I could almost smell the faint scent of flesh…

A surge of heat quickly spread from my lower body to my entire being. “Mom, let me help you…” My voice trembled noticeably.

Ah! Closer now, what an alluring body… Even in this heat, Mom was wearing long pants that reached her ankles. At least she wasn't wearing an outer garment today, but a beige long-sleeved shirt with a high collar that obscured her wrists. The fabric was a bit thin, and I could vaguely see the bra strap digging into her back.

My hand almost wanted to press against that slightly upturned, round, plump buttocks… No! She was my own mother!

My penis was painfully hard, swollen as if it wanted to burst forth. I could clearly feel some liquid slowly sliding out of my urethra; my underwear was definitely soaked… Whew!

"All done..." Mom turned back and smiled at me, smoothing her hair behind her ear. Thankfully, Mom hadn't noticed anything; my earlier overeating had conveniently masked my lustful urges. I didn't dare straighten up, trying to calm my desires before sitting down on the sofa. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Yet, it felt like a dream...

After saying goodbye to Mom, I returned to my carnal little room. I say it was carnal because I rented it alone to escape the Oedipus complex that left me bewildered. But in reality, even though I was away from Mom, I had become unrestrained, and in just one week, I had already fantasized about masturbating while holding her.

My penis had been extremely engorged the whole way, Mom's alluring back constantly swirling in my mind.

The computer silently turned on, my penis hovering near "Mom's" lips, a shudder, and cloudy semen spurted out...

Doing this in front of Mom's photo, anger, shame, and a host of other emotions surged into my heart. The immense pleasure couldn't mask my long-held ethical views, and I shed a few painful tears...

I feel I can't continue like this. Sleeping with my own mother is impossible. Putting aside societal norms, she would absolutely resist. Although she's in the arts, she's introverted and conservative by nature. You can tell just by looking at her clothes; such a thing is simply impossible for her… I'm so glad I managed to control the urges I had a few days ago from fantasizing about my mother. I've tried everything—cold showers, push-ups—I must persevere!!!

As a person, the most unforgivable thing is lacking willpower. To avoid seeing my mother again and having those urges, I've made excuses not to go home for two weeks. Although my mother's figure never truly disappeared, at least I didn't... A 　　few nights ago, a rare downpour suddenly struck, and I was half asleep when my mother called, worried about me. She was probably still half asleep, her mind hazy. Her voice drifted lazily from her nose, occasionally distorted by yawns. I

suddenly 　　thought it sounded like irregular moans from being violated. As if possessed, I grabbed my penis and masturbated amidst her dazed voice. Her moans, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, were like soft gasps. 　　Afterwards, I felt that was the most pleasurable time; I ejaculated for a full five or six seconds before stopping. The most terrifying thing was that I later deliberately called my mother during her afternoon nap, listening to the sounds coming from her throat with her eyes closed, and I found myself ejaculating with great pleasure every time. My God! I actually used maternal love to satisfy my lust… 　　The area around the cultural center is a real mixed bag—vendors, people selling pirated DVDs, and after dusk, there are even some figures covered in cheap cosmetics wandering around in the night… I never usually go there. But today is different; it's May Day. My mother's theater troupe has put on several plays to celebrate May Day and notified me to go see them early on. 　　I've never been interested in Peking Opera, let alone Yue Opera. I think the reason China's ancient national treasure is in such a precarious situation is because there are too many people like me who don't know how to appreciate high art; I'd much rather go to a bar to watch striptease dancers in miniskirts and with exposed breasts. My mother's Yue Opera troupe isn't doing well, but fortunately, such organizations receive special subsidies from the municipal government. The troupe leader is probably an incompetent fellow; the troupe just barely scrapes by, performing only a few shows a year. 　　Although today's performance is a special "May Day" celebration, it seems most tickets are complimentary; very few people actually pay to see this city-level troupe perform. When I was little, I came here with my father to see my mother perform, but I barely remember the surroundings. 　(In recent years, the theater has been converted into a cinema, everything is standardized for film screenings, all double seats.) 　　The performance began, a group of clowns tumbling and rolling around, creating quite a spectacle. Soon, a young female lead and a young female lead began singing. Today's performance consisted of excerpts from famous plays, like "The Butterfly Lovers." My thoughts drifted to my mother's image, though I didn't know what she was singing. After a long while, a drumbeat startled me—my mother was on stage. It was "Mu Guiying Takes Command," and the "Mu Guiying" kicking her spear so vigorously was my mother, the one who had captivated me. 　　Oh! Her face was covered in thick makeup, and her body was wrapped in layers of costumes. If I hadn't known beforehand, I wouldn't have recognized my mother at all. After performing on stage, she began to sing, which I, of course, couldn't understand. But I couldn't help but be taken aback. The Yue Opera troupe rarely performed, and I hadn't seen my mother perform in a long time. I never expected her voice to be so clear and crisp; it was hard to imagine such a high-pitched voice coming from a middle-aged woman. This must be what opera fans usually call "singing style," right? It seems that even as my mother gets older, her vocal skills haven't diminished. I had originally gone to the theater to watch the opera because my mother had invited me so earnestly, but as soon as I thought about it, I was immediately distracted and couldn't control myself. In a moment, my mind was filled with fantasies of oral sex. It turns out that my mother's oral skills hadn't declined either; her movements were also very agile, dodging, weaving, leaping, and shifting—quite nimble. How ecstatic it would be for such a body to writhe in bed… 　　My lower body started to stir again, rising inch by inch. My mother spun rapidly on the stage, and my piercing gaze seemed to try to penetrate the thick costume, to see everything beneath. Beautiful mother, you truly bring me both joy and sorrow… “Mom, your performance was amazing! Your singing, your movements, were absolutely incredible…” Back in the living room, I frantically complimented her. When I talked about her singing, I stared at her full lips; when I mentioned her movements, my gaze lingered on her curvaceous hips. 　　Although my mother still practices every day, she hadn't felt the stage presence in a long time, and today she had truly indulged her passion for the performance, her excitement still lingering. 　　“Really? You didn't want to come when Mom gave you the tickets… Hehe!” 　　It was too late last night, so I stayed home and slept through the night—what a nightmare! I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Several times I thought of sneaking up to check if my mother's bedroom was deliberately left open, preparing to invade her body in the middle of the night. I know this is just a fantasy; my desire for my mother's body is only one-sided… 　　How can I summarize my recent psychological journey? Recently, I've started fantasizing about having sex with my mother in various positions in bed 　　again. The initial embarrassment... [The rest of the text appears to be unrelated and possibly machine-generated gibberish. It's omitted from the translation.]

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[My Relationship with My Mother][Part 1]

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