flesh-colored stockings

The flesh-colored stockings felt smooth and slightly cool to the touch, making every pore on my body open. I slowly lifted the stockings from the basin, gently running my other hand over them, just like touching my mother's beautiful legs—smooth, soft, and delicate. This reminded me of that morning in the elevator, when my mother was wearing those black leggings, equally smooth and soft. If my mother had been wearing these flesh-colored stockings that morning, would they have felt different?

Just thinking about touching my mother's thighs in the elevator that morning, and now holding those stockings she had worn, instantly made my penis hard. Looking at the stockings in my hand, I inexplicably lowered my head and smelled them. And that smell was like unlocking the dark shackles of my heart, unleashing an uncontrollable urge.

One hand gripped my penis, slowly stroking it, while the other held my mother's stockings tightly against my face, taking a deep breath. The slightly acidic smell of sweat mixed with my mother's fragrance instantly filled my nostrils. So this is what Mom's stockings smell like—it's absolutely heavenly.

My penis was rock hard, it was ready to release immediately. A flicker of hesitation crossed my eyes, but I couldn't resist the allure of Mom's stockings. My hand trembled as I placed the stockings on my penis.

"Ugh... hiss." The cool stockings on my penis brought a trembling, pleasurable sensation that made me involuntarily groan.

Imagining the stockings on Mom's legs, and my penis pressed tightly against her stockinged legs, the forbidden thrill made my teeth chatter.

My hand, holding my penis, seemed to have a mind of its own, trembling as I took Mom's flesh-colored stockings and slipped them onto my penis. In my mind, I imagined Mom wearing the flesh-colored stockings, her legs together like Jiang Yueyue's, my thick, long penis slowly thrusting between Mom's beautiful thighs.

The combined psychological and physical stimulation didn't last long; my penis showed signs of ejaculation. While fantasizing, I rapidly masturbated, imagining myself holding my mother's legs, my penis pressed between her beautiful thighs, my lower body slapping hard against her fair legs, my penis thrusting faster and faster… My penis was rock hard, veins bulging prominently. Leaning against the bathroom wall, one hand rubbed my testicles, the other rapidly masturbated.

"Ugh…" I groaned, my glans throbbing as I finally ejaculated.

*Pfft… Pfft… Pfft…*

Moments later, a large amount of white semen sprayed heavily onto my mother's flesh-colored stockings. My upper body trembled, my penis felt a tingling sensation, and I felt my very soul trembling.

"Phew..."

After the initial excitement and climax, my mind gradually calmed down. So much semen on Mom's stockings—if I didn't clean it up and she found out, I'd probably be skinned alive! The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

I couldn't let Mom find out!

Looking outside the bathroom, it was already dark. Mom should be back from grocery shopping soon; I had to clean up the mess quickly.

I tried wiping it with my hands, but it wouldn't come off. In fact, the more I wiped, the more the semen spread. What to do? What to do? I paced back and forth in the bathroom like a cat on a hot tin roof.

Time was running out, and I was getting more and more anxious. In a moment of desperation, I came up with a solution.

I took the stockings that had been sprayed with semen, threw them in the water to wash them, wrung them out, and smelled them. Once the strange smell was gone, I put the stockings back in the basin exactly as they were.

Then I took off my clothes, stood under the showerhead, and started showering. The bathroom wasn't very big, so the washing machine wasn't far from the showerhead. If I turned the faucet to maximum spray, the water would definitely reach the laundry tub.

Hey, what a clever little devil I am! I couldn't help but praise myself.

But then, the cold water hit my head, and I instantly became incredibly sober, a wave of guilt washing over me.

...

"Did you take a shower this afternoon?"

"It was too hot, so I took a cold shower."

At the dinner table, Mom took a small sip of soup and then questioned me. That's when I gave her the excuse I'd prepared that afternoon.

It's too hot in the summer, and the air conditioning wasn't on yet, so a cold shower wasn't unreasonable, right? I had a perfectly valid reason!

Mom didn't press further, confirming that I had showered. That meant her stockings must have gotten wet while I was showering. But why did I feel like Mom's gaze was a little off?

Did I not wash properly? Or did Mom smell something and find out? I looked up tentatively and asked, "Mom, is something wrong?" "Nothing, I left a pair of pants in the bathroom and they got wet. I guess you didn't notice." Mom frowned but didn't say anything more.

I scratched my head, pretending to be oblivious. Just as I was about to explain, Dad tapped the table: "Just have your mom wash them again. Hurry up and eat." "Okay," I replied, burying my head in my food.

Although I appeared calm on the surface, my mind was a complete mess. Mom must have discovered something, otherwise she wouldn't have been frowning so much.

I quickly shoveled down a few mouthfuls of food, told my parents I was full, and guiltily went back to my bedroom.

Lying on my large, soft bed, I seriously considered the situation. I definitely washed Mom's stockings clean, and to prevent her from smelling them, I even rinsed them several times with water. Was something wrong? "

Ugh

! So annoying!"

I rolled over in bed, sat up with a frustrated look, and figured I'd used up all my brain cells and still couldn't figure out what was wrong. Might as well go get it checked out.

Thinking this, my restless heart started racing again. That ecstatic feeling of wanting to die for my life resurfaced in my mind. Maybe I could even enjoy Mom's stockings again.

Impulsive desire drove me to action. I tiptoed to the door, pressed my ear tightly to the crack, and when I heard no more noise outside, I slowly opened the door, slipped out of the bedroom, and cautiously observed the surroundings.

Dad had been working at the hospital for two days and was exhausted; he was now in his bedroom. Hearing the sound of water coming from the kitchen, Mom was definitely washing dishes. The living room and bathroom were empty, which emboldened me.

I tightened my slippers on my feet, trying to make as little noise as possible on the floor. Holding onto the wall, I tiptoed to the bathroom door. Standing there, I glanced towards the kitchen again, and hearing the running water, I breathed a sigh of relief. If Mom suddenly came out and saw me acting so suspiciously, I'd have to pretend to faint on the spot.

I gently pushed the door open, my heart pounding wildly, my palms sweating with nervousness. But the thought of Mom's stockings so close, soon enveloping my penis again, bringing that blissful pleasure, made it all worthwhile. Even the fear Mom had instilled in me for so long vanished from my mind.

Inside the bathroom, the flesh-colored stockings I had used lay quietly in the laundry tub, as if waiting for my touch. Without any hesitation, I walked over and took the stockings in my hand, my eyes fixed on my mother's stockings with a frenzy, my inner desires surging once again.

I believe that after seeing my mother in person, no one could resist the stockings she had worn next to her skin, including me, her own son. It was an ultimate temptation, a seduction of desire; it was the demon that led me into the abyss of incest.

[The End]

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