[A Mother and Child Dance Gently in This Life] (Part Two)

Chapter Two:

A Virgin's First Time.

They say after hardship comes the rainbow, but for me, my mother vividly taught me a new lesson: after the rainbow

comes the cloudy day. Last night's masturbation not only failed to bring about the change between my mother and me as I had imagined, but instead made our harmonious

mother-son relationship of over ten years suddenly awkward.

I didn't know that at this moment, my mother felt a little bit of fear towards me. Her son had given her

fear , disappointment, shock, and repressed emotions. She had actually masturbated her son; although it was her son's initiative,

she was still an accomplice.

Her son's penis wasn't big, really not big, so why was she so aroused? Was I a

wanton ? My mother's mind was a mess, as if it had been ransacked by the Japanese.

In her panic, she didn't dare to speak to her son anymore. She hadn't felt it before, but now

that she knew her son's feelings for her—those mixed with strange emotions—she felt a slight distance from him. Of course,

my mother still loved her son. She truly loved him, and because of love, she distanced herself.

After that night, my mother and I tacitly reconciled as before, a little awkward, but nothing serious.

You might say, how could I give up so easily? The truth is, if you've actually experienced it, you know

that the feeling is extremely exciting at the time, but very painful afterward. I don't expect everyone to understand my feelings for my mother.

But I also hope everyone understands that a mother-son incestuous relationship might really take two years, even ten years, to develop,

not to mention it needs some catalysts.

Time flies, until the summer of my 17th year, when everything changed.

"Xiaolan, our son is so grown up now, he doesn't need us to control him anymore, and of course, we can't control him anyway,"

my father said softly from the bedroom.

I pressed my ear against the crack in the door, listening to my father's earnest words.

"What are you saying, Zhang Wenlin? I understand you've been working away from home all these years, only coming home once a month for the factory.

You've done it all for the family. But who forced you to go south? Why, out of so many people in the factory, is it you,

the supervisor, who has to go?"

"I wasn't thinking about earning more money. Two years in the south, and I'd be a deputy factory manager, making 250,000 a year

. Now, a mere supervisor only makes 100,000 a year, managing just a few people. If someone gives me a few gifts, I'd barely make 20,000 or 30,000 at most. Zhao Youli

was promoted to deputy factory manager last year, and this year he's driving a new car, provided by the factory. Who do you think I'm doing this for?"

"For whom? Isn't it just for your own enjoyment? If you were doing it for us, mother and son, we don't need it.

My son needs his father, and I need my husband. Two years apart, who knows what you…you…"

"You're getting more and more ridiculous. I...I what? Talking nonsense..." I'll be leaving in 10 days. Pack your

things . "If you keep spouting nonsense, I'll fuck you."

After saying that, I saw something through the crack in the door that made me gasp. My father grabbed

my mother's breast, who was sitting cross-legged on the kang (a heated brick bed) wiping away tears, and whispered, "We'll do that tonight. We haven't seen each other for two years, so we need to replenish our energy in these 10 days. "

So, for the next 10 days or so, I was honorably assigned to sleep at my grandmother's house, without even a chance to be a third wheel.

...

Ten days later, watching my father's train disappear into the distance, I stood at the station, holding my mother in my right arm.

A phrase popped into my head: Is Heaven helping me?

When I got home, my mother seemed very down. She came into the house and sat on the sofa my father had bought from the factory,

sobbing .

"Ming Song, can I cook for you later? I want to sit for a while."

"I'll stay with you, Mom." Saying this, I went over and pressed myself against my mother, turning her body so she could lean on my

shoulder. She didn't seem to think much of it, tucking her long hair behind her ear and leaning against me. This was

the first intimate contact between my mother and me since our lovemaking that night when I was thirteen or fourteen.

Smelling the fragrance of my mother's hair, I looked down and vaguely saw the bra strap, the white, tender breasts faintly visible.

The scent of soap, which I hadn't smelled in a long time, stirred a wicked thought within me. My right hand, which was around my mother, began to move

downwards , little by little, so that it could touch those white, tender breasts. I was like

Yu Zecheng in the undercover operation, moving cautiously, as if walking on thin ice.

In the summer, my mother wore a white gauze skirt and sat on the sofa. Her fair, tender thighs were faintly visible

, pressed tightly against mine. I freed my left hand and slowly caressed my mother's thigh, following the soft flesh towards the root of

her thigh . My right hand was not idle either, continuing to chase down her soft, round breasts.

The pleasure in my hands gradually filled my entire brain. The mother and son's bodies were completely intertwined, and my mind was

almost completely blank, with only the primal instinct of animalistic behavior erupting. My engorged penis instantly

swelled , and I wanted to shout out a satisfied moan: "So beautiful! So good!"

"Ming Song, Mom is going to cook." With that, my mother pushed me away from her pleasure and quickly walked towards the kitchen.

"I'm getting a little anxious," I thought to myself. "Two more years, Zhang Ming Song, Zhang Ming Song,

what's the rush?"

"Li Lan?"

"What did you call me?" My mother peeked out from the kitchen, somewhat incredulous and a little angry.

"Oh no, I got carried away." I regretted it a little; pride comes before a fall.

"Mom, I... um, it's nothing." I said, turning and running out.

"Come back for dinner later!" My mother called after me.

That evening at dinner, my mother said, "Tomorrow's Sunday, let's go to the market and buy some things."

I didn't object. Actually, I usually didn't go to the market with my mother, but this

time , the timing was perfect, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to connect with her. However, I was more curious about why

my mother acted as if nothing had happened when I did that evening on the sofa. I was a little conflicted.

Going to the market is a custom in our rural area, also known as going to the market or the market fair. It's an indispensable activity in

the lives . Early the next morning, my mother and I took my second uncle's tricycle to

the market. Because my second uncle often sold fried dough sticks at the market, my mother often benefited from it.

Countless stalls had already been set up on both sides of the street, like a long dragon. The goods at each stall were

different . Some were hung with brightly colored clothes; some were filled with all sorts of cute toys; some were filled with

inexpensive and good-quality daily necessities…

all kinds of goods were available, making my head spin. "Big sale! Big sale…" "Ten dollars!"

"No, five yuan."

"Sweet and fragrant sesame cakes!" "Buy Xinjiang specialty lamb skewers..." The cries of vendors and the sounds of bargaining rose

and fell . The air was filled with the aroma of roasted chestnuts, the creamy scent of cakes, and the fragrance of various fruits,

all wafting into my nose and making my mouth water.

My mother, seeing my gluttonous look, couldn't help but chuckle.

As time passed, more and more people gathered in the crowded market. My mother unconsciously took my arm,

carrying a bag in her other hand. Due to the crowd, her ample bosom pressed firmly against my arm, and

I couldn't help but nuzzle the place I longed for with my elbow. Seemingly sensing my movement, my mother loosened

her grip, but still took my arm again. Then, I intentionally or unintentionally touched her firm breasts, and

my mother's complete indifference seemed more like encouragement, making me uncontrollably fantasize.

"Mom, let me carry your bag." Before my mother could reply, I freed

my the other side to pick up the bag. I then pulled it back along her buttocks. My mother

glared at me but didn't say anything. The arm I had pushed away before she picked up the bag came back up.

"This is going to work!" That was the only thought in my mind. We

'd bought a lot of things at the market that morning. As if punishing me, my mother dumped a pile of things

on her poor son, leaving me with no other thoughts but exhaustion.

"Let's go home," my mother said, glancing at me and suppressing a laugh.

"Go home what?" I said resentfully. "Keep buying, work your son to death."

"Silly son, are you angry?" My mother couldn't help but laugh. Just as I was about to say something more, I suddenly noticed

a white van speeding towards me in the lane, less than 20 meters away. In a panic, I pushed my mother aside, and the

speeding car braked less than a meter in front of me. My mother, realizing what was happening, rushed over

and grabbed me, hugging me tightly. "Honey, are you alright? Are you alright?" I hugged her back

and patted .

"How can you drive like that! Is that how you drive?!" Seeing that I was alright, my mother rushed to the front of the car and

shouted.

"I'm sorry." The driver, probably an honest man, didn't dare to say anything more under my mother's outburst.

"What the hell!" my mother said angrily.

When we got home, I opened the door, closed it, and my mother pulled me to the doorway, asking, "Child, were you scared?

Why did you push me? It's okay if something happens to me, but you're the apple of my eye. What would I do if something happened to you

?"

Seeing my mother's agitated state, for the first time, I hugged her without any desire and whispered in her ear,

"Mom, you're the apple of my eye too." Hearing my words, my mother looked at me with tender eyes.

Our lips were less than two centimeters apart. I restrained myself, feeling that pride would lead to defeat, and that it wasn't the right time

to make a move . But finally, desire overwhelmed reason, and I kissed my mother's lips fiercely, sucking hard.

At that moment, I didn't care about anything else. What about ethics, what about moral principles? In the face of desire, in the face of my mother's

voluptuous body, everything was bullshit, or to put it politely, it was all just fluff! I only thought of two words:

possession!

I straightened up, spread my mother's legs, and pushed her to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) in the bedroom while kissing her.

The things I bought at the market were thrown on the floor. My mother lay on the kang and whispered, "Do you know what you're doing?" I pressed

my body against hers, pulled her hands away, and gazed at her face. Her long hair was spread

across the pillow, and her thin gauze dress revealed her black bra, her bare shoulders and beautiful legs, making my penis

hard .

I kissed her lips deeply and said, "If Mom doesn't like it, I won't kiss you."

My mother turned her face away, not looking directly at me, and said, "You've been holding back since you were thirteen or fourteen?"

I gently kissed her lips, nose, forehead, ears, neck, and breasts, kissing her until her eyes

were half-open, her gaze hazy.

"I'm tired from the market, Mom, don't resist, okay? I want to tease you a little," I laughed.

My mother then giggled and said, "You've been planning this all along, child?" Then, as if remembering something, I said in a low voice,

"It seems you're quite happy that your father is gone."

I pulled down my mother's bra strap and said, "Mom, you've wronged me. Whether Dad is gone or not, it can't stop me from

loving you..."

As I finished speaking, I pulled my mother's clothes off her legs. Her black bra covered her breasts,

the deep cleavage indicating her ample bosom. She tried to close her thighs, but I blocked her way. It seemed that

my heroic rescue at the market had really spurred her on; she didn't object as fiercely as she had when I was a child.

Looking at my mother beneath me, I thought excitedly, could it be that today... I can finally get my wish?

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[A Mother and Child Dance Gently in This Life] (Part Two)

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