[Marrying My Mother] Author: Unknown

【Marrying My Mother】

Author: Unknown
Word Count: 5801

Some say fate is unchangeable. Ever since reading *Oedipus Rex* in college, I felt I was the next
Oedipus, destined to marry my mother. This awakened my reason, leading me to leave my hometown and rarely return. But fate
still struck when I was 38. My story, Liu Zuojun's, is simple and unpretentious, and I fear it might not interest everyone.
However, in this forum, it seems inappropriate to only discuss others' stories, so I'll share my own, hoping some like-minded people will
enjoy it .

On September 13, 1971, the day Vice Commander-in-Chief Lin Biao died in a crash, I was born into this world,
but not in Outer Mongolia, but in a backward little mountain village in Jiangxi (
Liujiawen Town, Guang'an City, Jiangxi Province), where the Red Army had once made its way through the revolution. I strongly suspect that I am his reincarnation because I feel that my personality is very similar to his. He
commanded battles in Northeast China, and as the commander of millions of people, he often commanded divisions and regiments. He had no personal friends and was not good
at socializing . Although I have always had excellent grades and even
managed to get a formal physics teaching position at an ordinary high school in Shanghai after graduating from university in 1993, I have suffered a lot because of my poor interpersonal skills. Of course, saying
that I resemble Vice Chairman Lin is probably just self-aggrandizement. In reality, it may also have
a lot to do with my mother or family environment. My father was an ordinary, honest farmer with four younger brothers, all of whom were farmers. My mother, Shulong,
was born in 1952 and didn't attend school for many years. She was raised by relatives after her parents passed away when she was ten.
There were many children at that time, so my mother was still a child herself, but she was actually helping relatives take care of their children. She did all the housework
and sometimes didn't even get enough to eat. This led to her extreme distrust of others. You could say that my mother was
someone with high IQ but low EQ, with high health quotient (she knew how to take care of herself and was always in good health) but low financial quotient.
In my memory, she was always arguing with the neighbors and my father. When I was in high school, the two of them even scratched each other in front of me
. She also treated my uncles like enemies. But when she was with strangers, you couldn't see
any of shortcomings. On the contrary, she seemed to be very considerate of others.

My mother was thin and frail, with a figure and face somewhat resembling Liu Shiwen. She had a sharp tongue,
never letting up when she was right, and was incredibly quick to argue; no one could out-reason with her. In high school, I began to experience
puppy love and started having crushes on girls. I often fantasized about being like my mother, just not so argumentative.
After reading *Oedipus Rex* in college, I even wrote several pages of rambling analysis, claiming that mothers and sons were the best sexual
partners because sons inherited their mothers' genes and were half a head taller, making their sexual experience the most suitable—all sorts
of nonsense . I even tried to use these ideas to persuade my mother to have a relationship with me. Of course, all these fantasies remained buried in my heart;
I never dared to voice them.

After graduating from Shanghai University in 1993, I got a job as a high school teacher. Although I had two
vacations a year, I only went back to my hometown four times before bringing my mother to Shanghai in January 2009. The financial reason
was secondary; the main reason was that I simply didn't know how to
interact with the villagers, the so-called neighbors, and the so-called relatives. It was pure torture for me. The first time was during the Spring Festival of the year I started working after graduation; the
second time was in 1999, the year I got married; the third time was in 2003, the year my father passed away; and the fourth time was
after New Year's Day in 2009 when I brought my mother to Shanghai.

I married Chen Xiaowen in 1999. She was six years younger than me, only 22 at the time.
We were introduced . She was a very upright person and was always satisfied with my teaching performance. She felt
it was unfair that I couldn't get promoted to senior teacher, but there was nothing she could do about it. Chen Xiaowen graduated from a vocational school with a degree in accounting and had been in Shanghai for three years
without a stable job. When the dean introduced us, she had just joined our school's accounting department and wasn't
a permanent employee yet. Shortly after our marriage, she became a
permanent employee as a family member of a teacher. At that time, many colleagues said that although I wasn't very talkative, I taught well and, more importantly, I was incredibly hardworking
. We took her back to my hometown for the Chinese New Year after our marriage. For some reason, my mother seemed to have a sour look on Chen Xiaowen's face,
and we had to return to Shanghai after less than a week. Marrying Chen Xiaowen also gave me a lot of confidence.
Although my income wasn't high, it was enough to make ends meet. Our nine-year marriage
can be described as three years of bliss, three years of stagnation, three years of cold war leading to our separation. We never had children. After a hospital checkup,
it was discovered that Chen Xiaowen had a problem with cold uterus. She took medication for over a year without improvement, and eventually, she got tired of it and
stopped . Instead, she increased her social activities, transforming from an ordinary, simple village girl into someone who dressed up and became increasingly seductive
. Sometimes she would want to have sex multiple times a night, leaving me unable to keep up. In 2007, she switched jobs to a South Korean company and
rarely came home. When she did come back, she only wanted me to have sex with her, claiming she would do her best to satisfy me. However, I
became increasingly uninterested, or rather, unable to. In September 2008, she filed for divorce. Initially, I
disagreed , but ultimately, I couldn't hold onto a woman who had fallen into another man's arms. After more than two months, at the end of November
, we divorced. She went to Qingdao with her boss to live the life of a wealthy wife.

My father passed away from lung cancer in 2003. I returned home to handle the funeral arrangements. Looking at my mother's frail shoulders again,
I felt an urge to embrace her several times, but reason prevailed over impulse. I had considered
bringing my mother to Shanghai, thinking she would be alone at home without care, but Chen Xiaowen strongly opposed this. We had a huge argument.
She complained that I barely earned enough to support myself, asking where my mother would live in our shabby one-bedroom apartment.
I knew the apartment was too small, my income wasn't high, and she had suffered because of me, so I had to give up the idea. Every year I
sent my mother four or five hundred yuan and wrote two or three letters. Her replies were always the same few large, crooked characters, saying she
was fine and telling me not to worry about her. But this "don't worry" seemed to change along with my marriage to Chen Xiaowen,
because in my last two letters, my mother's words became longer, containing more complaints about the people in the village. In the letter I wrote before the divorce,
she mentioned that she was going to go out to work and no longer stay in the village. This strengthened my
resolve . I thought it would be better to divorce her so I could bring my mother to Shanghai and take care of her.

So, taking advantage of the week-long social practice I was teaching during New Year's Day 2009, which meant no physics classes, I took leave to go back to
my hometown to bring my mother to Shanghai. Before boarding the train, I bought a copy of the "Shenbao" newspaper. While idly waiting on the train, I noticed
a rather unusual advertisement for a domestic helper: "Seeking a companion, monthly salary 15 yuan, female preferred, kind-hearted, and able to communicate effectively."
"Speak the Guang'an dialect, no bad habits required, job involves chatting with the elderly, age preferably between 40 and 45
(not older than 50)." Hey, Mom wanted to work, this is perfect! No special skills are needed, just
need to speak the Guang'an dialect. The only problem is Mom's age is over 56.

When I got home, I sensed something was wrong with Mom. It turned out there was a problem with her newly issued second-generation ID card;
it clearly stated "Liu Yunduo, born November 18, 1964." What's going on? My neighbor
told me that because my mother had a fight with the village chief's wife, the village chief changed her age to be 1 or
2 years younger when processing her ID card, saying that since they were both born in the Year of the Dragon, the county and higher authorities had already entered the information into their computers and couldn't change it. I wondered,
"What good would it do him to change my mother's age to be younger after an argument?" My neighbor explained, "You haven't come back for years. Don't you
know that now you can get a senior citizen card if you're over 55? You get a bag of rice and free transportation to the county town
. The village chief did it on purpose from the start. I heard he even gave the clerk a pack of cigarettes to make my mother's age younger." Now
I'm almost speechless. How can rural people do things like this? Oh well, my mother does look a bit younger,
with only a few gray hairs. She does look younger than others her age. If she goes to Shanghai to work as a domestic helper,
her age will be suitable, right? So I didn't hesitate to ask her
to go to the town government office and get two certificates: "This is to certify that Liu Yunduo, a villager of our town, is 44 years old, widowed,
in good health, hardworking and honest, and the above information is true. Liujiawen Town, Guang'an City, Jiangxi Province, January 3, 2009."
After stamping the official seal, I carefully packed everything away, and the next morning I took my mother on the train back to Shanghai.
On the train, I showed my mother the advertisement and explained that in the city, everyone wants to look younger, especially
those officials who are about to retire. My mother was excited the whole way to know that she could still work and earn money. That's the kind of
person she is. Actually, I don't need her to do housekeeping to earn money. My salary should be enough if I don't squander it. But what makes
a person, especially an elderly person who always feels that things aren't going well, happy is that she can still contribute her energy and warmth.

After arriving in Shanghai, I contacted the company that provided companionship services. It turned out to be the director of Hongkou Hospital. The director's mother was actually from a neighboring village in
our hometown. She had been in Shanghai for over ten years and was currently 73 years old. She had been diagnosed with stomach cancer before New Year's Day and underwent surgery,
but was still very weak and recuperating at home. Recently, she had been involuntarily speaking her hometown dialect, so I wanted to find someone to
keep her company. After seeing my mother's ID card and the letter of introduction I provided, they went with me to the street
office to get my mother a temporary residence permit. I, as the guarantor, also left a copy of my ID card. My mother would sometimes
go to the director's house in the mornings and sometimes in the afternoons to chat with the director's mother and do some housework. When she wasn't going, she would stay at my house, tidying
up . Of course, because of our age on our ID cards, we couldn't call each other mother and son to outsiders. Instead, we said my mother
was a distant relative from my hometown village who came to work here and was temporarily staying at my house. When there were other people around, such as at school and the director's house
, I would call her my mother's cousin.

Half a year has passed, and my mother has been in good spirits. She no longer argues with people as she used to at home,
and she gets along well with her neighbors, especially Zhang Keqin from the neighborhood office. Zhang Keqin is very warm and friendly, and she seems like
the kind of her neighbors. My mother's behavior reminds me of
the saying, "Oranges grown south of the Huai River are sweet, but those grown north of the Huai River are bitter." When I got home on June 1st, Sister Zhang from the neighborhood committee was also there. It turned out that Shanghai
was going to host the World Expo in 2010, and they were checking the temporary residents. They mentioned there would be a cleanup before August 1st, 2009. My mother's current
temporary residence permit was fine, so it was estimated that the August 1st cleanup would be fine, but there might be
problems So she came to remind her. Sister Zhang also explained the notice to my mother and me about the people who needed to be evicted and those who could stay temporarily: "...
People to be evicted: ...5) Parents and parents-in-law who are not Shanghai residents visiting Shanghai... People who can stay temporarily:
...2) Spouses who obtained blue-stamp household registration before August 1st, 2009, due to marriage with a person with a formal Shanghai household registration..."
Finally, she left a "Notice from Shanghai Municipality Regarding the Eviction of Temporary Residents Before the 2010 World Expo" and left. After Sister Zhang
left, my mother was a little down. I comforted her, saying I would find a way, but in reality, I didn't have any good solutions
until summer vacation started.

On July 1st, the former dean of academic affairs came to my house to pick up the peanut oil I had collected for her. My mother was also there, and the three of us
chatted about my mother's temporary residence permit. I even showed the former dean the notice left by Sister Zhang. The former dean
carefully read through the notice word by word, then suddenly glanced at our very clean and tidy house and said to me:
"Your cousin is really hardworking! You've been divorced for over half a year, haven't you thought about finding someone else?" Just as I was wondering
what the old dean of studies was going to say, she looked at my mother and said, "Actually,
when it The one I introduced to Zuo Jun was too unreliable. Actually, you two are quite suitable. If you're willing, I'll be
your witness, haha." I hurriedly protested, "We're not suitable." The old dean of studies looked at me and said, "Why
not? You think your cousin is too old? I've seen her information, she's seven years older than you. Actually, I think you two are quite suitable to
live . Hurry up and get your marriage certificate before August 1st, and you'll solve the temporary residence permit problem." My mother and I
didn't know what to say, we just stammered. After the old dean of studies left, I was filled with emotion. I told my mother that I wanted to get a marriage certificate with her
, and I also told her about those examples of fake marriages and fake divorces for the sake of property. In the end, my mother and I both thought it was a
good idea. What followed went smoothly. I had time during summer vacation, so a week later, on July
7th, my mother and I took photos and got our marriage certificate. The certificate I'd seen in our hometown town played a crucial
role again; I only slightly altered it, changing the date of issuance from January to July.
After a few more days of intensive work, my mother's blue-stamp household registration was finally completed on July 18th. On August 1st, I invited
Sister Zhang from the neighborhood office, the former dean of studies at the school, and two or three colleagues to my home as a kind of
celebratory feast for my mother and me.

It wasn't until two months later that I actually had sexual relations with my mother. On September 13th,
the headmistress passed away. My mother started spending a lot of time at home. Although she still chatted with our neighbor Sister Zhang,
helped me with chores and cooking every day, and went out to buy groceries and take walks, she always felt something was missing. She felt listless at home
and complained to me that she was useless, just a freeloader. During the National Day holiday, if I remember
correctly it was the 3rd, we were sitting on the sofa that night. She threw another tantrum, complaining about how useless she was.
Instead of trying to comfort her as usual, I suddenly pulled her into my arms. She looked at me in fright and asked what I was doing.
Kissing her earlobe, I said, "Liu Yunduo, Yunduo, you are your son's wife now. Cooking and washing clothes for him is your
job. What use are you if you want to be yourself?" My mother seemed to try to break free, but I took the opportunity to push her down onto the sofa
and started tearing at her clothes. Soon, her top was completely off. Looking at her
breasts, which sagged like bags, her thin shoulders trembling beneath me, and her murmuring, "I am your mother, your biological mother. You
can't this to your mother," my desire to possess her and merge with her became even stronger.
For over twenty years, since I started fantasizing about her body in my teens, I was determined to merge with my biological mother today. I lifted
her up and carried her to the bed. The bedroom was dimly lit, the lights off. Using
the flickering light from the television and fluorescent lamp in the living room, I pulled down her pants. She struggled and whimpered, but not violently. When I kissed
her breasts and her flat stomach, she just covered her face. When I kissed her vulva, she
just said, "Zuo'er, no, it's dirty there." I couldn't control myself anymore, sucking on her labia, smearing them with my saliva
. She grabbed my shoulders, trying to pull me up, but I took the opportunity to press myself against her, kissing her
lips. She turned her head away, while at the same time, I guided my already engorged penis
into I was born thirty-eight years ago. My mother's vagina was so tight, gripping my penis tightly,
squeezing it. There was a slight stickiness in the rawness, but more than resistance, there was tightness. The feeling was incomparable to any time
I made love , and it wasn't just the psychological effect of finally entering my biological mother's body.
Each time my penis slowly entered, my mother's agonizing moans reminded me that she was almost 57 and
hadn't experienced sexual pleasure in years. I had to love her, not act recklessly. So I tried to control the speed of my thrusts. After
about seven or eight minutes (because when I entered her, the theme song of the TV series we were watching had just started, and
the actual episode had already started), I couldn't hold back any longer. I slowly pushed my entire penis into
her vagina again, then thrust it in hard, as if I wanted to melt into her body. My semen gushed
uncontrollably into her uterus, and her hands tightly embraced me. I pulled the blanket
over us and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I woke up in the pleasure of morning erection to find my penis tightly gripped by my mother's vagina,
not slipping out at all. My mother was also awakened by the throbbing. "Mom, you're really my wife now. I'll take good care of you,"
I said, gently thrusting in and out, gradually increasing the distance, experiencing sensations I'd never felt before. With
Chen Xiaowen, she was very wet, but with my mother, it felt like there was no wetness at all, more like a thin layer
of oil, smooth yet slightly rough, increasing the tightness of my penis against her vulva. The roughness wasn't
uncomfortable at all, just a gentle, warm touch. "Mom, you're so tight and it feels so good," I said, suddenly increasing
the frequency. "Oh, slower, Mom hasn't done it in over thirty years. Yours is too big." "Over thirty years?"
"Yes, it stopped when you were two or three and I was old enough to understand. Giving birth to you was too painful, Mom was terrified." I suddenly remembered how my mother always slept in long pants
when I was little , and a surge of love welled up inside me. I began thrusting gently again. I didn't
know why, at fifty-seven, my mother was much tighter and more moist than the younger Chen Xiaowen; perhaps it was just her nature.

Since I had a physical relationship with my mother, our lives have both changed. I feel that life has never been
so real and precious, and my mother's temperament has also changed drastically; a smile often involuntarily appears on her face.
For more than three years, we have tried various positions, including anal sex five or six times, and my mother always seems to enjoy it.
In later conversations, I learned that since my mother was thirty-five, seeing my grandmother suffer from rectal prolapse, she
was inspired to begin practicing Kegel exercises, which she has continued for over twenty years. This is why her vagina is so tight,
allowing her anus to comfortably accommodate my penis and provide pleasure. It enabled her to fully enjoy sexual pleasure with her own
son , and to affectionately tell him on her sixtieth birthday, "I've
truly started living with your stepmother; I wasted my life living in the village before." And I would reply, "Son, it's the same. Only you, Mom,
are the one I've been waiting for my whole life. I want to love you for another fifty years." Who says it's impossible? Her ID card
says she was born in 1964, so she's only forty-eight now. Looking at her happy face, despite the wrinkles
and gray hair, her blood pressure has improved from 85/135 when we got our marriage certificate (without medication) to
75/135 before her sixtieth birthday. 120. Her knee pain, which she often experienced in the village, has now completely improved, astonishing
the doctors . Who would doubt that she couldn't live another fifty years? As Sister Zhang said, "Sister Liu, you
look younger at forty-eight than you did at forty-five! Everyone talks about reverse aging, and I've seen it in you!
What kind of magic do you and Zuo Jun practice? Teach me!"

My mother has gone through menopause and is no longer fertile, but sometimes when we make love, her saying, "I wish Mom could have your child
, " still ignites boundless passion and love in me. Actually, we don't need children to prove anything, nor do we need children to... (The last sentence is a diary entry
and doesn't directly relate to the preceding 　　　　　　　　　　　text.) November 18, 2012

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