【The Blissful Sexual Life of a Teenager】(02) 【Author: Let's Play】

Author: Let's Play
Word Count: 4478 (
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What's going on? Am I still dreaming? I rubbed my eyes. It turned out
that Mom had come to bed for a nap sometime during the day. She and my aunt are sisters; not only do they look alike, but their figures
are also similar.
I let out a sigh of relief and leaned against the headboard, but my eyes couldn't help glancing at Mom. Mom was sleeping soundly,
lying flat on the bed with a towel draped over her body. Perhaps because of the heat, the towel was only covering her upper body. A pair of snow-
white thighs were exposed, and her sexy little white thong caught my eye.
Although my mother was already in her thirties, she looked more than ten years younger than her actual age.
In my memory, Mom looked a lot like this photo.
[attach]3030608[/attach]
Her breasts were small but firm, and her buttocks were sexy and round.
For me, the greatest comedy of life is having a stunningly beautiful woman by my side every day; the greatest tragedy is that this
beautiful woman is my mother. Sigh!
My mother slept peacefully at the other end of the bed, her snow-white thighs slightly parted, wearing only small white panties.
I tried hard to look away, but my eyes involuntarily lingered between her legs.
My mother looked just like in the picture, her snow-white skin exposed, her small panties covering her private
parts. I tried again and again to look away, but couldn't help glancing at her, my heart pounding.
I looked at my sleeping mother, her beautiful face, her even breathing. I quietly lay down, staring at the ceiling to
calm my mind. An uncontrollable desire made me turn to look at my mother. Her smooth abdomen, snow-white thighs, and
the alluring bulge of her tight white panties outlining the shape of her vulva. When I saw the barely visible slit
of her vulva through the clinging fabric, in an instant, memories flooded back: waking up in the middle of the night as a child to find my mother kneeling on the bed, being forced
against the wall and stripped naked by a rapist—all these images flashed through my mind. My mother's sexy body and
the posture of her being violated filled my mind.
I don't like watching porn because no actress is as beautiful as my mother, and I rarely encounter anyone with a
similar figure. Fortunately, I did, allowing me to recreate those memories through pictures.
My mother's skin was smooth and delicate, her pubic hair sparse, her buttocks round and perky, and her breasts, though not large, were full and firm. You could say
my mother's figure was exactly like the one in the pictures.
[attach]3030609[/attach]
What I saw from my perspective when I woke up in the middle of the night as a child. My mother was kneeling on the other side of the bed, and my father went to
the bedside table and took out a balloon (a condom; I always thought it was a balloon when I was little). Then my father approached my mother, and
after a while, the light went out, and
I heard a series of slapping sounds. My parents were usually very careful; they always turned off the lights when they had sex. This was the only time I accidentally saw it. On the contrary
, I witnessed almost the entire time my mother was raped. From the moment the perpetrator forced my mother against the wall, stripped her naked, and kissed
her, to the moment she was pinned to the ground and raped in various positions. The pictures can recreate most of the situation, especially the perpetrator standing there
with his erect penis pointing and touching my mother. The images can be almost identical to the actual scene. However,
some scenes cannot be recreated. For example, the mother leaning against the wall, the assailant kissing and caressing her, kneeling down and lifting one of her legs to lick;
the assailant standing and thrusting at her after she was being manipulated; the mother kneeling and being licked by the assailant spreading her buttocks, etc. I hope fellow enthusiasts
can provide images similar to my mother
's figure. At that time, the assailant was face-to-face with my mother like this, his penis erect against her body
.
I still remember my mother being held down like this, her struggle and resistance as the assailant's glans was about to enter her body
, and that desperate cry.
Looking at my mother's tight underwear outlining the alluring shape of her flesh, memories of my mother's erotic past flood my mind.
My pants are bulging. A burning desire ignited within me. The urge to lift that narrow strip of cloth
throbbed within me. Several times I trembled as I reached out to touch my mother, several times I lacked the courage and gave up halfway.
In the end, reason prevailed over lust, or perhaps you could say I was cowardly. I went out of the room and washed my face with cold water
to calm myself down. But for the next few days, my eyes couldn't help but dart under my mother's skirt or her buttocks.
When my mother slept, I would unconsciously steal glances.
Those who haven't seen her wouldn't know how sexy my mother is. From a young age, the moment she took me to the swimming pool and we stepped out
, she immediately drew the attention of men. Men of all ages played diving around her. My mother sat on the lawn in the park, and accidentally,
her private parts were exposed, while a couple in love laughed and joked. As they passed by, the young man's smile suddenly vanished, and he froze, his gaze darting
under his mother's skirt. The young woman angrily walked away, and only then did he snap out of his daze and chase after her,
the sound of her angry shouting echoing in the distance. I've witnessed far too many things like this.
My mother is so beautiful; even her unintentional actions have a profound impact on others, like the butterfly effect.
The chain reaction triggered by a seemingly insignificant incident is beyond imagination.
Readers, do you feel this is a bit disorganized? I just want to vent as much as possible what has been suppressed
in my heart for years. I'm not writing erotic fiction now, but recounting true stories. True stories
are often not so smooth and lack drama. If I were to elaborate on erotic fiction, I could tell the story of my aunt...
I'll continue writing, turning it into a passionate love story between me and my aunt, even adding
an incestuous tale involving my doctor aunt.
I can also continue writing about my mother's afternoon nap, turning it into an illicit sexual game between us. Even
the events at the swimming pool and park can be turned into short stories. Some might question whether I'm writing erotica or erotica; true
stories don't distinguish between the two. Some might find my writing too verbose and lose the patience to continue reading.
That's okay; I will continue writing, recording my true stories.
A small incident can trigger a chain reaction that is often unpredictable. My mother's unintentional bending over sparked
a series of events. The story begins before my affair with my aunt, before summer vacation. One
day after school, two classmates and I encountered my mother on our way home. They were shocked to hear me call her "Mom
." They politely greeted her,
saying in surprise, "Auntie, you look so young! Is that really your mother? Your biological mother?"
"Of course," I replied impatiently.
Then they came to my house to play. We sat on the sofa, and then Mom was about to go out. Mom was changing her shoes at the door, and
when she bent down to lift the heels, her back was to them. Mom was wearing the tight-fitting leggings that were popular at the time, and when she bent over,
her buttocks were sticking up high, her round, beautiful buttocks facing them. Those two guys stared, their hands in their pockets.
This made me feel very ashamed and angry.
I knew their pockets didn't have inner pockets. They were staring at Mom's buttocks and touching their penises. Those two guys
were precocious and usually lewd; they had cut off the inner pockets so they could masturbate anytime. Seeing
their hands in their pockets, they were probably touching their penises. After that, those two guys came to my house often. Their eyes were always lewdly
lingering on Mom. Their conversations were always about pornography. Sometimes they would even smirk and say, "I dreamed about your mom again."
They would show off some tattered pornographic magazines and books to me.
"Want to see? I'll take a few pictures of your mom's legs when she's sleeping
, hehe."
"Get lost, why don't you take pictures of your mom?"
Damn it, these two guys became my dream girlfriends because of a moment when my mom unintentionally bent over and stuck out her buttocks in front of them
.
Later, these two guys inexplicably started to distance themselves from me. They wouldn't be with me after school, and sometimes when I saw them
chatting animatedly, they would immediately shut up when they saw me. They even asked about my mom's schedule, what time she got up
, what time she went to and from work, and when she went to the bathroom. I was completely baffled. After summer vacation started, they simply disappeared, and
I had no idea what they were doing. It wasn't until later that I found them, and they mysteriously led me to
the grove of trees next to my house that I suddenly realized—these two guys were peeping into the girls' restroom.
My first time peeping, I was lucky enough to see two beautiful girls. The visual shock of women's private parts, the addictive
attraction to the opposite sex, made me uncontrollably obsessed. Whenever I had a spare moment, I would peep, searching everywhere for
women's restrooms to watch. For me, voyeurism was a different kind of sexual intercourse. Watching beautiful girls enter
the restroom, my penis would involuntarily become erect. When they pulled down their pants or lifted their skirts, I would unzip my
pants and release my penis. The moment they squatted down, I felt like I entered a state of complete absorption, my eyes and mind filled only
with their vaginas. As I masturbated, it felt like I was penetrating their flesh; the sounds they made or the occasional
twist of their bodies would make me ejaculate uncontrollably.
Voyeurism actually reduced the frequency of my nocturnal emissions, and the objects of my dreams of sex
started appearing as the beautiful girls I had peeped on, starting with my aunt. The guilt of having sex with my aunt disappeared, and my spirits were no longer
as low as they had been when I had sex with her every night.
After voyeurizing for several days, I realized that the restrooms near my house were also treasure troves for voyeurism. At first,
those two guys didn't tell me. It wasn't until a few days later, after several other places had been occupied by peeping Toms, that they
finally took me to the toilet next to my house.
That day, luck seemed to be against us; we waited a long time, but no one went to the toilet. The three of us climbed a big tree and
peered into the distance, anxiously hoping a pretty girl would use the toilet. I remember that afternoon was very hot, the sun was very
strong. Around four o'clock, just as we were getting disappointed and bored, a
graceful figure in a dress, carrying a small floral umbrella, appeared in the distance, walking slowly and elegantly.
Seeing the figure in the distance, the two guys excitedly jumped down from the tree and ran wildly towards the toilet wall. I
, however, froze. It was my mother! This surprised me greatly; it was only four o'clock in the afternoon, my mother should be at work, how
could she be home so early? I silently prayed that my mother wouldn't go to the toilet.
But things didn't go as planned. When my mother stepped onto the path leading to the toilet, I despaired. I quickly jumped down from the tree, trying to stop them
from peeping at my mother. I ran to the outside of the toilet wall, where they were nervously peering through a crack in the wall. One of them
unzipped his pants, while the other pulled them down to his knees, both of them masturbating and waiting.
The sound of my mother's high heels clicking on the concrete floor grew clearer as they approached. I pushed them away forcefully,
covering the gap in the wall with my hand. Suddenly pushed away, they immediately tried to pull me aside. I
said to them, both ashamed and anxious, "It's my mother." To my surprise, they replied that they knew it was my mother and threatened to
yell if they stopped me again, letting my mother know I was peeping into the women's restroom. I was immediately discouraged and, pulled aside, could only
squat against the wall, sulking.
"Tap, tap," came the continuous sound of high heels hitting the floor from inside the toilet. My mother walked into the toilet,
and everything instantly became quiet. They held their breath, and I could hear their hearts pounding.
I listened intently to the sounds coming from inside the toilet.
"Thump—thump," two intermittent clicks of high heels, the sound of heels stepping onto the squatting position. I
couldn't help but turn my head to look through a small hole in the wall towards the direction of the sound. Just a wall away, a pair of shapely
legs in flesh-colored stockings stood apart in the squatting position, the skirt being pulled up.
I hurriedly turned my head away in a panic.
They, however, were filled with excitement and agitation, their eyes wide open, as if their eyeballs were about to pop out.
I painfully listened to the soft slurring sounds of my mother lifting her dress and pulling down her underwear. With an extremely light...
The sound of their thighs and calves touching, their expressions frantic as they masturbated. Oh no, I knew
Mom had squatted down.
"Shh, shh," "sizzle, shh," the whistling sounds of water assaulted my senses. It was as if
some kind of magic was tempting my soul. I forced myself to stay away from the small hole in the wall, my body trembling uncontrollably
, beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
One of them, masturbating, muttered nervously, "Bitch, pussy, fuck, fuck pussy."
The other, fantasizing, explained, "Your mom's squatting down, ah, her pussy is so beautiful, her ass is so white and
round, her snow-white pussy is like a broken bun, see? The clear fluid from my cock is smeared into your mom's pussy, and
then you insert it into her fleshy opening—that's fucking."
"Shh, sizzle, drip," the water sounds weakened, and I heard the sound of tearing toilet paper. I felt my
heart being ripped apart.
The two guys were masturbating even more frantically. They pursed their lips and stuck out their tongues in a kissing, licking motion. Their glans
twitched, dripping clear, sticky fluid.
"Hiss, hiss—hiss," was the sound of toilet paper rubbing against my mother's genitals. One word lingered in my mind:
cunt, cunt, cunt…!
The two glans next to me ejaculated onto her one after another, their expressions contorted with excitement, their penises throbbing against
the wall.
"Tap—tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-tap," the sound of high heels rang out, fading into the distance.
They climbed a tree, gazing at my mother's receding figure, smacking their lips with lingering satisfaction.
"Your cunt is so beautiful, fucking your mother is so good, hehe."
"Get lost, I'll fuck your mother!" I snapped.
"Stop swearing, look down first, haha, you want to fuck too."
I looked down and saw that my crotch was bulging. I felt a burning sensation on my cheeks, and instantly felt utterly ashamed.
How could this be? I only heard my mother's voice, and I felt sexually aroused by her. I felt
a heavy sense of guilt.
What made it even worse was that they told me they had spied on my mother many times before. And it wasn't just them
; other people were also there, ejaculating on her while watching.
The truth was that ever since they were seduced by my mother
's sexy, shapely buttocks, they often followed her, staring at her backside and fantasizing. One day, they followed her to the restroom. They listened to
my mother's urination in the men's restroom next door, and, scratching their heads, they quietly climbed over the wall to try and peek. Unexpectedly, they discovered a man outside the restroom wall
masturbating on my mother. They went to the grove outside the wall and were shocked to find
a vast world of voyeurism.
Alas! My mother would never know that her unintentional gesture of raising her sexy buttocks would lead me to become a voyeur.
And what's worse is yet to come.
I returned home in a daze, and my heart tightened when I saw my mother. My mind was filled with the memory of my mother being spied on. I
watched my mother busily preparing dinner. We sat facing each other, her beautiful face smiling as she spoke to me,
placing delicious dishes on my plate. My heart ached terribly. That night, lying in bed, my mind was filled with memories from my childhood
of my mother being spied on, molested, and raped. I drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the daytime events,
only this time it was me, not my classmate, masturbating and spying on my mother. When I woke up in the morning, I realized I had a wet dream.
I quickly washed up, and my mother got up. She quickly washed, dressed, and put on a dress,
carrying a wad of toilet paper as she changed her shoes. I knew what that meant.
A panic gripped me, and without thinking, I instinctively grabbed my backpack and ran outside.
"Why are you leaving so early? Don't forget breakfast," my mother reminded me with concern.
I ran frantically, scaling the residential wall and heading straight for the women's restroom. I was
sweating profusely and panting heavily from running so fast. I climbed a large tree, but my mother still hadn't appeared. Suddenly, I asked myself, what am I
doing?

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【The Blissful Sexual Life of a Teenager】(02) 【Author: Let's Play】

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