Oedipus complex

Is it a real mistake, or the right thing to do, when someone does the wrong thing at the right time? Love and desire, the good and evil of human nature, are separated by a single thought. What is right, and what is wrong? Many things, caught between sin and evil, go back and forth. Looking back on my past experiences, I've always felt bound by my past self. Perhaps, letting go is the only way to truly let go.

From a young age, I had a strong attachment to my mother; my longing for her stemmed partly from love and partly from sexuality. But in reality, my mother only helped me masturbate once when I was young. After that, no matter how much effort she put in, there was never an opportunity for incest. Perhaps this is the reality of life. Incest between mother and son in novels is almost impossible in reality. Perhaps it happens, but I won't be one of them.

As my mother grew older, her appearance began to show signs of aging. Since I started dating, my lustful desires for her haven't been as strong. Unfortunately, people are always prone to this; in the mundane routine of life, I felt bored and dull. My girlfriend is perfect—slender, tall, and innocent. When I'm with her in bed, I gradually develop the thought that no matter what I do, it will always be the same.

Tonight, after a passionate encounter in my girlfriend's room, I'm shirtless, wearing only my underwear, gazing at the night view from the back balcony. The image I've always projected to my girlfriend is that of a refined, tall, and quiet person—strange, yet very real. Actually, I think I'm rather repressed and indifferent. I'm cold to everyone, but once we get to know each other, I'll at most nod and smile. Only with people I truly trust will I open my heart.

Having worked for many years, the pressure on my shoulders has actually decreased rather than increased. Often at work, I think about the past: my days with my mother, school life, my workplace. Many times, I wish I could go back to that period. Though bittersweet, it was still a part of life. Now, I'm alone, with a girlfriend and hypocritical colleagues. I don't know if it's my fault; maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I

've long since stopped answering calls from old friends. Every time I go online, I check Skype to see if my old friends are still around. But after that incident, my heart has become numb. People are always like this; once they get used to isolating themselves, they feel the world is nothing special, full of resentment and lacking in understanding. Perhaps during this time, I've been a terrible boyfriend.

I walk in my girlfriend's living room. My own home is shattered. I want to go back, but I can't. I used to dream of this place, of everything I did with my mother, but it's all a mirage. The sorrowful atmosphere in the air is suffocating me. Why? I'm so tired. Negative thoughts surround me. As I wander aimlessly, I unknowingly end up in another room—my girlfriend's mother's bedroom.

The door wasn't closed. I listened to the sounds coming from inside, the splashing of water. Suddenly, it occurred to me, "Is Auntie taking a bath? At this hour?" I wanted to turn around and leave, but my suspicious nature led me to make unusually vivid associations. Last night, when I was intimate with my girlfriend, I always felt a certain gaze watching me, however faint it was, I still noticed it.

Speaking of which, since the first time I met my girlfriend's mother, I've found her to be very gentle and refined, with an elegant demeanor and gestures, completely different from my mother's cold and aloof air. Auntie gives me a very approachable feeling. The key feature is a small black mole at the corner of her left eye, which makes her even more alluring when she smiles—to put it subtly, she's glamorous; to put it bluntly, she's lewd.

I have to admit that after meeting my aunt that night, the main reason I ejaculated while having sex with my girlfriend from behind was actually because of my aunt's appearance. My sexual fantasies have always been mostly about my mother, but tonight it was my aunt. She doesn't have my mother's figure—full breasts, a beautiful bottom—but she has slender hands and pretty legs.

Yes, my aunt is a little younger than my mother. Perhaps because my girlfriend is younger than me, my aunt is a slightly naive mature woman, with a touch of playfulness. She doesn't have my mother's typical virtuous personality, nor does she have the lewd, seductive smile of my younger aunt. Instead, she maintains a youthful mindset even knowing her age, making her a modern woman.

Undeniably, lately, I've transferred all my thoughts about my mother to my aunt. And since my girlfriend comes from a single-parent family, does that mean my aunt has also been alone for many years, and the restless desire within her has gradually shifted to her daughter's boyfriend as the object of her sexual fantasies? For a long time, I've been thinking about my husband and masturbating. Now, I wonder if a young man's body can arouse my desire even more.

Indeed, every time I visit my girlfriend's house, her aunt always wears light makeup and dresses appropriately, showing me her best side. She doesn't dress like she does in her private life. But actually, I like her private attire—simple, elegant, and closer to her real self. It's a pity I've never had the chance to see it.

As I lingered at the door, I pondered the reason behind her showering. Could it be like those porn scenes? Spying on her daughter and boyfriend having sex, then going back to her room to masturbate, and after orgasm, cleaning up in the bathroom. Sometimes I really admire my own imagination; it even scares me. I gently pushed the door open, and everything in the room came into view.

The sheets on the bed weren't soaked with any vaginal fluid, and there was no toilet paper in the trash can. Had I guessed wrong? My heart was pounding, and my penis was hard, pressing against my underwear. Like a thief, I wanted to catch my aunt masturbating, but I couldn't even see the vibrator. Finally, I looked at the bathroom in my aunt's room. The sound of water running was constant, and steam was faintly visible under the door.

I tiptoed closer to the bathroom door, listening intently, but unfortunately, there was nothing. Sigh, I really have no resistance to mature women. I pulled open the drawer and saw my aunt's underwear. It was incredibly sexy. I hadn't expected my aunt's breasts to be around a C cup. She probably always covered them up so I couldn't tell at all. The style of the underwear was rather simple. After rubbing my penis, I grabbed the underwear and smelled it hard. The scent of the underwear, imagining my aunt's fleshy buttocks pressed against it, and the pungent smell of her genitals made me grab my penis and start thrusting up and down.

The scent of the mature woman almost made me ejaculate. After the sound of water in the bathroom stopped, I hurriedly tidied up and went out. To my surprise, I heard a soft moan. In the quiet of the night, this small, brief moan was exceptionally clear. If I hadn't been in the room, I would never have heard it. I felt my chest heaving.

Although I had guessed wrong that the aunt wasn't masturbating in bed, it turned out she was in the bathroom. I tried to calm myself down and, mustering my courage, went to the bathroom near the room and pressed my ear against the door. The sound coming from the door was the aunt's low moaning. At first, it was very soft and gentle; you could easily imagine the scene as I listened to her moaning.

I imagine my aunt completely naked, covered in shower gel, her right middle finger rubbing her clitoris and vulva against her vulva, her left thumb pinching her nipple, eyes closed, head tilted back, tongue licking her lips, right foot raised, stepping on the edge of the bathtub, her mind filled with the sounds of her daughter's moans. How long has it been since her daughter's boyfriend came to their house and they secretly made love every night? When did she also secretly listen to the sounds of lovemaking and become aroused?

A long "Mmm~" sound... Why is that child so sexually potent? Two rounds in one night?

Doesn't she get tired? Her lower body... she longs for her daughter's boyfriend to penetrate her, but this thought can only be kept hidden in her heart... After all, isn't that incest? But it doesn't matter, masturbating in the toilet... it doesn't matter, right? Thinking of herself as a slut... so embarrassing, yet also exciting.

One finger is no longer enough for me. My genitals haven't been this sensitive in years. My daughter's boyfriend, why do your eyes always look so sad? Let me comfort you. The sound of your breathing when you're being intimate with my daughter is intoxicating. When you took my daughter's virginity for the first time, she told me with tears in her eyes. I comforted her because I knew she did it willingly.

Seeing my daughter's head and knees red and swollen from the morning you took her virginity, my intuition tells me it was a rear-entry position. You seem experienced; coming from behind reduces the pain for a first-timer because of the angle. But once her vagina got used to your penis, you thrust in and out roughly and forcefully. Looking at her swollen buttocks, I can imagine your thighs must be swollen too.

But these are just my guesses. Two fingers are constantly probing inside her vagina. If that hand were yours, how wonderful that would be. Like a pervert on a train, you're relentlessly violating me. Just imagining you teasing my pussy through my underwear makes me wet with excitement. My whole right hand is covered in your lustful fluids.

After imagining my aunt masturbating in the bathroom, my penis got so hard. Unfortunately, her moans only lasted a dozen or so times before falling silent, as if she was enduring something. I walked out the door, still hard. That night, I woke my girlfriend up and fucked her hard again, but this time, the difference was that while I was fucking her cunt, I was thinking about my aunt's.

The next morning, my aunt, looking radiant, made me some breakfast, while my girlfriend, exhausted from my ministrations, couldn't get up. In the kitchen, I was looking for jam, back to back with my aunt. Our buttocks accidentally touched. I turned my head, and my aunt turned hers too. I awkwardly glanced to the side, and my aunt smiled shyly before turning back to continue frying eggs.

I gently approached my aunt, smelling her fragrant hair. My aunt knew I was attracted to her, but neither of us said anything. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking on my part. Who was thinking this? I've been struggling with this. To my aunt, she's my girlfriend's mother; to myself, I'm just a middle-aged woman…? The beautiful woman—that incestuous allure was stirred once more. For years, I'd been unable to let go of the moral qualms about my affair with my mother, but this time, I couldn't resist the fantasy of being with my aunt.

[The End]

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/201310.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=201310&aspx=1

Previous Page : Hotel prostitute

Next Page : My family's maid, Sister Wang

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Oedipus complex

comment Open a new window to view comments