[My Son and His Classmates] [Chapters 1-2]

(A Widow)
I have a beautiful face and an enviable figure. I once had a very sweet and happy
relationship and marriage, but misfortune made me a widow and a single mother.
My husband and I fell in love freely in college and even consummated our relationship. We loved each other very much.
After graduating from college, I married my husband, who had been working for two years, and we started our own family. The following year, we had
our son, Xiaoyu, and life became even sweeter and happier.
My husband and I had a very good relationship. He not only loved me dearly, but he was also very strong and energetic
. This was undoubtedly a blessing for me, as I have a strong libido. My husband was also very fond of my body, and we had
sex very frequently. We made love almost every day. If my husband was away on business for a few days, he would make love
to me even more intensely when he returned home, sometimes two or three times a night, as if he wanted to make up for the lost time.
The year after our son was born, my husband, who had a certain financial foundation, partnered with some friends to start a company engaged in
electronics and trade. After more than a year of hard work, the company had grown to a considerable size. My husband, through
his own abilities, became the company's CEO and owned the largest share. I also focused on taking care of our son at home,
becoming a full-time housewife, devoting myself entirely to our family and son. Every day
, after my husband returned home from a busy day, I would offer him warmth and love, and at night, we would enjoy the pleasure of intimacy in his arms.
Life at that time was both happy and joyful. My husband and I loved each other dearly, and our son was healthy and lively. Our
lives also changed significantly. We moved from an apartment to a villa. Every day, I would drive our son to and from kindergarten
, go to the market to buy groceries, do housework, and regularly exercise and get beauty treatments. I no longer worried about the future;
our savings were more than enough to last a lifetime, and they were increasing year by year.
As our son grew up, our lives became even more relaxed and joyful. My husband's company had
grown considerably, and our bank savings alone were over ten million. My husband no longer had to work so
hard every day, and he didn't have to handle so many things himself. He
had more time to spend with me, and our relationship became even more loving, just like when we were first dating. We spent our time together, being affectionate and tender.
Because the mental and psychological pressure wasn't as great, my husband's energy became more vigorous, and my libido seemed
stronger than in the previous years.
Just when we were enjoying the happiest time of our lives, a sudden tragedy devastated me.
My husband had an accident during a business trip. When I heard the news, I felt like the sky had fallen
, and I fainted on the spot.
After handling my husband's funeral arrangements, I was faced with an even more overwhelming situation: after my husband's death,
everything in the company fell on my shoulders. I hadn't worked for several years, and I
was completely unfamiliar with the business of my husband's company, let alone capable of managing such a large enterprise.
After several days of consideration, I gathered a few friends who had invested with my husband. I explained
my decision to them and decided to hand over the company to them for management. I also decided to transfer all of my husband's shares to them.
They were also in a dilemma because the company was now very large, and my husband owned more than 50% of the shares
. They couldn't possibly buy them all.
After discussion, I finally sold some of my husband's shares to them, and the company was managed by the person with the largest shareholding
. I kept the remaining shares as a shareholder. I didn't participate in the company's management, but only attended a few
shareholder meetings each year and received my share dividends at the end of the year.
After handling my husband's shares, my savings became tens of millions, not counting the very
substantial annual dividends. Although I had no financial worries after my husband's death, I was emotionally
devastated, constantly immersed in the pain of losing him. You see, my husband and I had a very good relationship, especially
in the last two years when our love grew even stronger. I just couldn't accept this reality.
My mood became extremely low, especially when I was alone or at night, often crying myself to sleep, constantly thinking
about the days I spent with my husband, our love, and the
sweet moments we shared. During the day, I take care of our son. After my husband passed away, he became my only source of emotional support.
For my husband's sake, I must raise him well and nurture him into adulthood.
Although some people have advised me to remarry, I have resolutely refused. After my husband's death, I
made a decision in my heart: for my husband's sake, and even more so for my son's, I have decided to raise him alone. I
know it would be easy to find another man. I'm not even thirty yet; my years of comfortable life
make me look younger than my actual age. More importantly, I have substantial assets; I could find any kind of man I wanted.
But that's not what I want. I deeply love my husband, and we have a son. I only hope that
my son can grow up happily. My son will soon be starting elementary school. If I were to find a stepfather,
it would have a significant impact on his young mind. I have already lost my husband; I absolutely cannot betray my son as well.
Although my son is starting to understand things, a child's heart will quickly forget the pain. Six months later,
although I have gradually emerged from the grief of losing my husband, I still feel very depressed. Daytime days
are manageable, but nights are a struggle to fall asleep. Lying in bed, watching my son sleeping soundly in my arms, I
toss and turn, my mind constantly replaying the happy moments with my husband.
I'm not even thirty yet, and whenever I think of those pleasurable times with him, I feel waves of heat 　　coursing through my body, and I
can't help but recall the pleasure of making love with him. The more I think about it, the more my heart races, desire ignites like a fire within me, growing stronger and stronger until it becomes unbearable 　　, a burning lust. 　　At these times, I can't help but caress 　　myself, grabbing and kneading my breasts in the heat of passion, sometimes pinching my erect nipples hard to relieve 　　the restlessness within. Sometimes, unable to extinguish the fire within, I'll take off 　　my underwear, already soaked with vaginal fluid and clinging uncomfortably to my body, and rub my labia with my fingers until...

The pain subsided slightly after masturbation.
Since my husband passed away, my son has been sleeping with me. Every night after bathing him, we
play naked on the bed. My son has always been very attached to me, especially to my full breasts. Whenever he gets
the chance, he puts his little hands on my breasts or sucks on my nipples, as if
he hasn't had enough milk. Because he's young and doesn't understand, I don't mind. Lying on the bed, his small body
climbs on top of me playfully, sometimes sucking on my nipples.
During the day, when I'm alone, I often find myself lost in thoughts of my husband, and my mood becomes very low.
Being with my son is the happiest time for me. At this time, I can temporarily forget the pain of losing my husband. I
hold my son on top of me, stroke his back and bottom, kiss his tender little face, and
touch his soft skin, which makes me happy.
I often touch my son's soft, white penis and testicles, like any mother would
, and even kiss them. My son seems to enjoy it too; he always
spreads his legs for me to stroke, and his little penis, about the size of a fingertip, often gets hard during my touch.
Sometimes, when my son sits on my chest and plays with me, his little penis in front of my chin, I ca
n't help but take it and kiss it.
When my son sleeps in my arms, his little hands are always on my breasts, and even in his sleep, he often squeezes
and kneads them, sometimes even directly grabbing and kneading my nipples. My husband has been gone for
over six months now, and sometimes when my son kneads my nipples in his sleep, a strange sensation
rises from them, and I quickly feel waves of heat within me. My breasts haven't been touched by a man for over six months
. My husband used to love touching my full, firm breasts, often holding one even when I was asleep
. Although it's my son's little hand, it still gives me a strange feeling. Sometimes I hold
his little hand and rub it against my breasts, experiencing that unusual pleasure. When I'm aroused, I hold my son
tightly in my arms, sandwiching one of his legs between my thighs, and rubbing my wet labia against his
calf, imagining myself reaching orgasm.
Sometimes, after playing for a while, my son lies on top of me, his little hands clutching my breasts as he falls asleep. I
quietly let him sleep on top of me, stroking his soft little bottom with one hand, enjoying
the feeling of being pressed against him. Sometimes, when I'm feeling hot, I spread my legs and sandwich my son's legs between them,
rubbing my labia against his soft skin, experiencing pleasure from the friction.
My son is still young and doesn't understand anything. He was naughty all day and slept soundly, so he
didn't react to my actions at all. Sometimes, when I'm overcome with desire, I'll grab my sleeping son's little hand and
rub it against my labia. Although I experience pleasure when I masturbate, the pleasure from my son's little hand is much stronger. In
my burning desire, I even put my son's little hand inside my vagina. Whenever this happens, my pleasure is exceptionally
strong, and I often reach orgasm very quickly.
Every few days, when my desire is high, I play this little game to satisfy my desire. I
also stroke my son's penis while he's asleep. His penis is still very small, like a small candy
. Although it's small, it reacts to my touch. Sometimes, I can get an erection just from gently rubbing it for a while
. I also often put my son's penis in my mouth, like a small candy,
while rubbing my labia with my hand. After orgasm, I always hold my son tightly in my arms and
drift off to sleep with inner satisfaction.
One time, my son was fast asleep, but I couldn't fall asleep due to overwhelming desire
. My desire is always very strong during my ovulation period. While touching my son's penis, I rubbed my labia with one hand.
His penis slowly hardened under my touch, and my desire intensified. I held my son
in my arms, my thighs clamping his legs together. In my rubbing, I unconsciously pulled him onto
my body and lay down on the bed. His small body lay against me in my arms. I raised my legs, trapping
his small body between them, his little face against my stomach, his tiny bottom between my thighs. I swayed my legs around
his small body, moving my hips up and down, rubbing my wet labia against his thighs and lower
abdomen. I closed my eyes, savoring the pleasure of his soft skin rubbing against my labia.
Suddenly, something hard pressed against my labia. My body shuddered violently, and a
long-lost pleasure spread from my labia throughout my body.
I opened my eyes abruptly, realizing it was my son's penis. The thing pressing against my labia was his
penis, which I had been rubbing until it was hard. A gush of vaginal fluid flowed from my vagina. For the past six months, my labia
hadn't been touched by anything other than my own hands and my son's legs. Although my son's penis was small,
like a tiny finger, the real touch gave me a powerful shock. My mind
was blank at that moment; I instinctively strained to lift my legs up, raising my buttocks off the bed,
pressing my labia against my son's body. In this position, his penis was pressed against my labia.
I swayed, and with each movement, his penis pressed against my labia, waves of pleasure
radiating from my labia throughout my body. Because my labia minora were covered in vaginal fluid and slippery, my son
's penis slid between them after a few strokes. My body trembled violently
, my vagina contracted sharply, and a gush of vaginal fluid flowed out. My labia minora twitched and writhed, sucking on my son's
penis.
At that moment, my lust intensified, and the pleasure became exceptionally strong. After a dozen more thrusts,
I reached orgasm, my whole body trembling violently. This orgasm was exceptionally intense, and vaginal fluid continued
to flow from my vagina, running down my buttocks and onto the bed.
From then on, every few days, after my son fell asleep, I would first kiss his penis with my mouth.
When my son's penis became erect, I would gently hold him close and
slide his tiny penis, about the size of my little finger, between my labia. Each time, I would fall asleep contentedly holding him after an orgasm.
Before I knew it, my son was in elementary school. As he grew older, I became increasingly careful during our play.
Perhaps because of my frequent use, his penis had grown thicker than my little finger and
was about the same length. Now, his penis felt different; it had grown long enough
to touch my vaginal opening. He had also grown much taller, almost reaching my waist when
standing, and he felt quite heavy on me.
I knew in my heart that my behavior was unethical. Almost every mother has touched her son
's penis, and some have even kissed it. When sons are small, they sleep in their mothers' arms
, and mothers have all had the most intimate contact with their sons. But at that time, the son was very young, and I didn't
feel anything unusual because he was my son, born from my womb.
However, as her son grew older, the mother naturally maintained a certain distance in their physical contact.
The intimacy of his childhood seemed to transform into something else entirely. Sometimes, physical contact would shock the mother,
stirring strange feelings within her, even generating unusual psychological responses.
I am a single woman; my husband has been gone for two years. I sleep with my son every night.
Although I've grown accustomed to close contact with him, as he's older, I've begun to develop
romantic feelings for him.
While I yearn to continue this closeness, I know he's growing up
, and this behavior might already have an impact on him, potentially even evolving into a more serious condition.
Before, when my son was young and unaware, I could do whatever I wanted. Now that he's starting to understand, I'm beginning
to worry, fearing that if he finds out, it might affect his mental well-being.
Therefore, whenever desire begins to stir within me, I try my best to restrain myself until after 11 or 12 o'clock, when
my son is in the deepest sleep. I carefully stroked my son's penis with my hand. When it became erect
, I held him in my arms and slowly pulled him onto my body. By then, his penis was long enough
to penetrate my vagina. Although I knew I shouldn't,
I couldn't resist letting it slide between my labia minora.
The pleasure from his penis was more intense than before; my vagina tightly gripped his penis each time,
letting it slide against my vulva with each movement .
Because I hadn't had sex for two years, my desire was always strong, my body was more sensitive, and my vagina
became very tight. I quickly reached orgasm from the stimulation of his penis. A few times, perhaps because I
moved too vigorously in the heat of passion, my son, who was lying on top of me and in my arms, seemed to be waking up .
I was terrified and quickly stopped, my heart pounding. Thankfully, he didn't actually wake up.
The next day, my son didn't show any unusual reaction. Actually, my son and I have always been very close.
I haven't worked since he was born and have always stayed home to take care of him, so he's always been very attached to me.
After my husband passed away, my son and I relied on each other even more. Even now, I don't sleep in a separate bed from him. We both
sleep naked after showering, and he still loves my breasts, habitually grabbing them with his little hands when he's asleep.
Years have passed, and as my son has grown older, I've become more cautious and less likely to play games with him. It's not that
I don't want to, but I have fewer and fewer opportunities. After he entered third grade, my son was ten years old and started to
feel shy. Sometimes he would sleep in his underwear. I also started to pay attention to these things. I would wear
a thin nightgown at night, without a bra, but always with underwear underneath. Sometimes my son would
go to shower by himself and put on his underwear afterward. Sometimes he would still shower with me, but he almost
never wore underwear when showering with me. This gave me the opportunity to play my own games after he fell asleep.
My son's penis has grown a little more. Every time I make it hard and then put my sleeping son
on top of me, it's already big enough to fit inside my vagina. When I move
my hips, it easily slips inside, sliding around as I move
. I can clearly feel its presence. When I arch my back with my genitals facing
upwards, it can penetrate my vagina, and I often
reach orgasm after only a dozen or so thrusts.
Before my son started middle school, I stopped our "game." A sudden event made me realize I had to
end it all and decided to sleep separately from him.
It was two months before he graduated from elementary school. One Sunday afternoon, he went to play soccer with his classmates. When he came
home that evening, he was covered in sweat and complained of being tired and hungry. After dinner, I watched TV for a while. It wasn't even nine
o'clock yet when my son complained that he was tired and wanted to take a bath and go to bed. I told him to take a bath and go to sleep first, and I would sleep after watching TV.
My son went upstairs to take a bath. Looking at his increasingly tall body, I sat on the sofa,
unable to calm down for a long time. It had been over a month since I had played any games with my son while he was asleep; when I felt aroused, I
would always masturbate. Seeing how tired my son looked today, I knew he would sleep soundly tonight,
and my heart suddenly stirred again. Although I often masturbated, I felt
very empty after orgasm. The games I played with my son while he slept, while not comparable to making love with my husband
, excited me with their intimate physical contact, and I always felt very satisfied.
I sat blankly on the sofa, staring at the TV, my mind wandering. My son is growing up,
looking more and more like my husband. Although he still has a childlike face, I can already see what my husband looked like when he was young.
If my husband were still alive, how happy our family of three would be. As my son grows older
, I've clearly sensed a sense of inferiority in him, even though our life and circumstances are very comfortable.
But a father's role in life is irreplaceable. My son is more lonely than other children at school;
the teacher mentioned this to me during parent-teacher conferences, but it's a problem I can't solve. Fortunately, my son is very sensible
, studies hard, and consistently gets excellent grades; his teachers all like him.
My mind was wandering, and when I came to my senses, the TV show was over. I checked the time; it
was almost midnight. I shook my head self-deprecatingly, got up, turned off the TV, and turned off the downstairs
light as I went upstairs. Since my son was already asleep, I didn't go to the bedroom to get a change of clothes; instead, I went straight into the bathroom.
He was asleep anyway, so even if I went back to the bedroom naked, he wouldn't see me.
After showering, I dried my hair with a towel as I walked into the bedroom. As soon as I entered, my face flushed and my heart pounded
. Because it was summer, my son wasn't covered at all; he was lying naked on the bed, his little penis erect
. My son's little penis had grown into a real penis. I walked to the bedside in a daze, my eyes fixed on his penis.
He had grown a dozen short pubic hairs, and his penis, erect, was six or seven centimeters long and about the thickness of a small sausage . Although the glans was still covered by the foreskin, the tip was already visible, and 　　its shape
was clearly visible through the foreskin . 　　My heart was pounding, my mouth was dry, my face was burning, and my whole body felt like it was on fire. 　　I carefully sat on the edge of the bed, and couldn't help but reach out, my hand trembling, to gently touch my son's penis. Although he was fast asleep 　　, I was still afraid of waking him. 　　His penis was hard, stiff as a small stick in my hand. I slowly rubbed it. After a 　　while, I gently pulled the foreskin back down, afraid to use too much force, lest I hurt his penis. His glans gradually 　　emerged, the pink glans smooth from its swelling. Looking at my son's penis, I couldn't help but swallow hard. 　　My thighs were noticeably wet, and desire began to burn within me. 　　I gently stroked it with my hand, then couldn't resist lowering my head to take his penis into my mouth. I gently sucked on 　　it, and it twitched occasionally as I did. I didn't dare 　　to masturbate like I did with my husband; I simply took his entire penis into my mouth and sucked on it. Soon, I felt my juices flowing down my 　　inner thighs. I couldn't hold back any longer. I felt a heat and swelling in my vagina, waves of itching 　　emanating from deep within, causing my thighs to tremble uncontrollably. 　　I gently got into bed and rocked my son. He was fast asleep. I turned off the light and held him close 　　. His penis was still hard and erect. Holding him, I stroked it with one hand, my desire 　　growing even stronger. My thighs were already overflowing with juices. I slowly turned over, holding my son 　　, and rolled him onto me. He was still fast asleep, his face pressed against one of my breasts. I spread my 　　legs and lifted them up, trapping his lower body between them, his hard little penis pressing against my labia. 　　I reached down and grasped his penis, rubbing it against my wet labia a few times before 　　sliding it between them. I gently lifted my hips, and his penis slid into my vagina. 　　My body trembled violently as my vagina immediately gripped it tightly. 　　I released his penis, grabbed his buttocks with both hands, and pressed down hard, then slowly moved 　　my hips upwards. His penis was no longer the little worm it used to be; it gave me a distinct 　　sensation inside my vagina. With each upward movement of my hips, his penis passively moved in and out of my vagina 　　. 　　As my son's penis slid inside me, the pleasure in my vagina was incredibly intense. My vagina tightly gripped his small 　　penis, and my body trembled uncontrollably from the friction and stimulation. My vaginal fluids flowed uncontrollably 　　. 　　My son's penis had only been sliding inside me for about two minutes when I was on the verge of orgasm 　　. My vagina contracted, tightly gripping his penis, and I involuntarily began to writhe rapidly with my hips. With each 　　writhing motion, his penis slid quickly inside me, becoming much harder than before 　　, throbbing with each powerful contraction of my vagina. 　　Overwhelmed by the intense pleasure, I suppressed my moans and groans, my body 　　trembling even more violently. I writhed my hips a dozen more times, and suddenly, a powerful wave of pleasure 　　surged from my vagina. I pressed my son's buttocks down forcefully with both hands, my body trembling violently as I reached 　　orgasm. In the throes of orgasm, I arched my legs high, thrusting my buttocks upwards with force, my vagina contracting and spasming continuously, 　　tightly sucking on my son's small penis. My buttocks trembled rapidly as if electrocuted. 　　Just as I was climaxing, amidst the tight contractions and spasms of my vagina, I suddenly felt my son's small penis, which was being tightly sucked by my vagina 　　, twitch a few times, followed by a surge of warm fluid flowing into my vagina. The sudden throbbing of my son's small penis 　　and the influx of warm fluid made my body tremble even more violently during my orgasm. I gripped my son 　　's buttocks even tighter with both hands, and crossed my legs tightly over them. 　　Suddenly, my son hummed a few times through his nose, and his body, which I was holding tightly, trembled a few times, followed by 　　several more surges of warm fluid flowing into my vagina. I couldn't help but moan, trembling as I reached 　　orgasm once more. My mind went blank, my entire body immersed in the unparalleled pleasure of continuous, intense orgasms 　　. I held my son's body, which was lying on top of me, tightly, experiencing a pleasure I hadn't felt in years 　　. 　　I lay on the bed, panting heavily, my limbs sprawled out, limp and lifeless. My son was still 　　asleep, lying on top of me, his small penis slowly shrinking inside my vagina. Suddenly, my body jolted, and my consciousness 　　snapped back to reality. I abruptly realized what had happened, and a sudden panic gripped me. My face flushed, and my heart pounded. Although my son was still fast asleep, 　　I remembered his physical reactions; the powerful throbbing of 　　his penis inside me ; the warm flow that surged into my vagina; my son had ejaculated. In his sleep, 　　his penis had been tightly gripped and stimulated by my vagina, and he had reached orgasm. 　　I rolled over and laid my son's body on the bed. His now limp penis slipped out of my vagina.

I scrambled to my feet and ran into the bathroom. I stood there, leaning against the wall, hands pressed to my chest,
gasping for breath. Oh my god! I had made love with my son! I had truly made love with my own son! His
semen had entered my vagina.
Since my husband left us six months ago, when my son was very young, I had played this game with him, but I had
never realized I was having sex with him; I had always considered it a form of masturbation. But today,
when his semen entered my vagina, I suddenly realized I was having sex with him, and today was
a real sexual experience, because his little penis was thrusting inside me and ejaculating.
My son had passively completed his first sexual experience while asleep, and it was with me—his mother.
I stood in the bathroom for a long time without showering. Honestly, deep down, I wanted to
keep it all inside myself. Back in the bedroom, I put on my pajamas and underwear and lay on the bed. I didn't hold
my son anymore; I didn't dare to. I was afraid I would lose control and do it again. I lay in
bed, my mind racing, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I didn't even know what I was thinking. In my hazy state,
I barely managed to fall back asleep.

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[My Son and His Classmates] [Chapters 1-2]

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