Unable to Quit the Pleasure of the Illusionary Mother (Chapters 1-3)

(Chapter 1: The Spark) First published
on September 9, 2012
: sexinsex

I don't have the delicate writing style of the author of "Memoirs of a Mother's Love," nor
the sentimental dialogue of "The Mother-Son Breakthrough After the New Year." My "experience" is just a story, dear readers. You can read it and enjoy it without worrying about its authenticity.

Prologue: I know it's wrong, but once I've tasted that feeling, I can never give it up.

Chapter 1: The Spark

I believe many people are interested in their mothers, mostly because of pornography
and erotic stories. I don't really believe anyone would want to have sex with their mother from elementary school. The reason for being interested in one's mother is not only influenced by external factors, but also by sex education, leading to sexual fantasies about one's mother. In mild cases, it's imagining masturbating to one's mother's naked body; in severe cases, it's trying every means to commit incest with one's mother.

"And I am the latter, alas... I am truly a beast."

Enough of the small talk, let's get straight to the point. But sharing my experiences is one thing, but I still need to give some basic information. I live in a busy city, in an old neighborhood. Most of my neighbors rarely talk to each other. After all, we are city dwellers, going to work and coming home, each living our own lives. At that time, I was a senior in high school, facing the school's skills test, plus the university entrance exam. I was extremely busy. My way of relieving stress was masturbation.

It's shameful to admit, but at that time, moderate masturbation did relax my tense nerves a little. It was also at that time that I became obsessed with erotic articles. Basically, I am a person with a rich imagination. I indulged in the erotic pleasure of erotic articles. I imagined myself as a god, "having sex with all the beauties in the world and ejaculating into the bodies of mature women." In my imagined world, I reigned supreme. Unfortunately, after ejaculation, everything returned to the reality of being a poor student.

While my father was ranting and rave on political talk shows every night, I was still studying diligently in my study. One night, when I was studying until midnight, I felt my bladder was about to burst, so I went to the toilet to pee. I thought no one would be around at night, so I didn't even turn on the toilet light. After I finished peeing, I opened the door and was startled by the person outside. I cursed, "Damn it!"

"My mother doesn't turn on the light when she goes to the bathroom, is she trying to scare me to death?"

I turned on the small light, and the soft orange glow slowly spread in the dim bathroom. My mother stood in the doorway, her long, wavy hair curly and sticking out, half-covering her face. She wore a loose nightgown and only a pair of briefs on her lower body. Her shapely thighs were visible. My eyes were fixed on my mother's private parts, the slightly raised triangle, while my mind was filled with all sorts of perverted scenarios.

"Remember to turn on the light next time, and go to bed earlier," my mother said softly, sounding very apologetic.

I deliberately slowed my movements, passing by my mother's side. We each stood at the doorway, so we both had to turn sideways. My mother had her back to me, and I looked at her fleshy buttocks from behind. Her underwear looked tight against her round, full hips. I moved like a crab, and my penis was already so erect that it was pushing against her underwear. I thought of the "buttock-pressing" scenes in some erotic novels. Does such a thing really exist? However, reason prevailed over my inner demons. At that moment, I only felt my face burning, and I hurriedly went back to my room. I masturbated then, imagining how my mother would react if I pressed my penis against her fleshy buttocks. When I regretted not rubbing against her, I had already masturbated and ejaculated. Exhausted and sleepy, with the image of my encounter with my mother in the bathroom still lingering in my mind, I fell into a deep sleep.

Admittedly, what happened that night shocked me greatly. I had never had a girlfriend, so this was the first time I had ever seen a woman naked. Although I felt guilty several times, I just masturbated with the thought, "It's just imagination, nothing will happen." From that time on, my mother became the object of my masturbation.

After reading articles and watching videos about incest between mothers and sons, I realized that many things are impossible, but they also gave me a lot of ideas. Observing my mother's life made me pay more and more attention to her every move. My mother usually had to go to work, my father would get up early, and I also had to go to class. The only time I could spy on my mother was in the middle of the night.

Every time, I would hide in my room pretending to read, but actually I was waiting for my mother to get up and go to the toilet. After she finished urinating, I would pretend to urinate for a moment before going in myself, just to masturbate while watching her body. My mother is about 165 cm tall and thin. Perhaps because she was a volleyball player in her student days, her thighs and calves are very strong and well-proportioned. The key point is her beautiful buttocks. Exercise has made the muscles of her buttocks firm and perky. She lacks the semi-sagging flesh of a mature woman, but in return, the way her buttocks sway when she walks makes me hard every now and then.
I had never realized how well my mother maintained her figure. She works at an electronics company and regularly goes to the gym after work. Even though she's over forty, she's still very well-maintained. I heard that some people at her company even pursued her, but after learning about my father's past involvement with the underworld, they quickly gave up on the idea.

Honestly, my mother and father's story could fill many pages, but I'll talk about it later. My mother probably never imagined that her son would be interested in her. Naturally, she's rarely home, only spending time there on weekends. But that's how the opportunity arose.
Because I often studied late at night and always waited for her to use the restroom, she gradually changed her habits and started asking me if I wanted anything to eat. I always ask my mom to make me a cup of oat milk, and while I'm drinking, I chat with her for a bit.

"Mom, thank you for making me a drink."

"Studying must be very stressful, right? If you need anything, you can tell me."

It was this sentence that made me decide whether to take the plunge and honestly tell my mom something like, "Mom, I'm under a lot of pressure, can you help me masturbate?" But I immediately dismissed it. My mom would only agree to such an idiotic scenario if she were a slut. It's impossible. "Leading questions," I thought, and started asking some questions.

"Mom, how did you deal with stress before?"

"Going for a walk, doing things that make me happy."

"Mom, I don't know if I should tell you, I'm afraid you'll be angry."

"Heh, what are you being silly about, just tell me."

"Well... sometimes I masturbate to relieve my urges, I don't know if that's normal."

My mother paused for a moment, then stared at my crotch, looked at me for a while, and slowly said, "It's normal for boys to masturbate, just don't overdo it."

"What do you mean by overdoing it?"

"Doing it several times a day."

"But Mom... I do it an average of three times a day..."

I really admire my own acting skills. If there were an Oscar, I would definitely be the winner. In front of my mother, I pretended to be an honest, innocent teenager, and even I was almost fooled by myself.

"Three times...? That won't do, it's too harmful to your health, child."

"Mom, I'm sorry, but sometimes when the pressure comes, I really want to masturbate."

"Sigh..."

The mother fell silent. It seemed that this was the first time a mother had encountered such a question from her son, and she was at a loss. After all, in Eastern countries, matters of sex are not usually discussed openly, especially by traditional mothers. Faced with these questions from their sons, they were half ashamed and half cautious in their answers, caught in a dilemma.

"Then... Mom, do you masturbate?"

Damn, I really admire my own courage to ask my mother such a question. Thinking back now, I was really blinded by lust and didn't think about the consequences.

"Go to sleep early."

The mother didn't say anything and left the room.

After my mother left, I lay on my side on the bed, stroking my penis through my underwear with my right hand. I imagined that after I had confessed to my mother, she was understanding and willing to help me masturbate. I imagined her slender right hand, her palm rubbing against my penis through my underwear, her fingers teasingly scratching my scrotum. In the middle of the night, the two of us, mother and son, were doing that forbidden thing on my bed.

I drew back the curtains, and the dim light from outside brightened the room slightly. My mother's face was half-hidden by her hair. Her left hand hooked around the top of my underwear and slowly lowered it. I lifted my buttocks to make it easier for her to remove my underwear. My mother's warm palm grasped my penis, and my breathing quickened as her hand began to stroke it up and down.

I propped myself up with my hands. I had been lying down. My mother's face was slightly flushed, and with each downward stroke, the pink glans would be exposed. As my mother stroked it, my penis grew larger and hotter, harder and harder. When I tried to ask my mother some questions, she made a shushing gesture, probably to avoid disturbing my father who was sleeping soundly next door.

As I imagined my mother masturbating me, her image became increasingly vivid in my mind. What exactly were my feelings for her? Was it infatuation with a mature woman? Or the pleasure of incestuous relations? Was it love for her? Or simply a desire for release? Forget it. Just imagining my mother providing various sexual services numbed me. That forbidden pleasure of breaking moral boundaries was like a poison, uncontrollable.

In my imagination, my mother's hands encircled the lower edge of my glans, her movements faster and faster, and I lasted for about five minutes. Mother, now you know how strong my sexual prowess is! My mother straddled my waist, her plump buttocks right in front of me, making my blood boil even more. Just as I was about to squeeze those peach-like buttocks with both hands, I reached the limit of excitement and ejaculated a bunch of semen after fantasizing about my mother.

But I knew that my relationship with my mother had undergone a subtle change, even if it was slight. After that, when my eyes met hers, there was an unnatural atmosphere between us. Because of my mother's chatter that night, the next morning, when I was putting on my shoes to go to class, my mother had already changed into a suit. A well-fitting suit can better accentuate a girl's figure. Seeing her plump buttocks swaying under the tight skirt made me unconsciously get an erection again. When I left, my mother picked up the keys and said to me...

"I'll drive you to class today."

What? I usually take the bus to class. My mother actually wants to drive me. I can only get on the back seat. I wrap my arms around my mother's slender waist and press my thighs tightly against her fleshy buttocks. I smell the fragrance of my mother's hair. My mother rarely drives me. My half-thick penis is pressed against the tailbone of my mother's spine. The plot in the novel makes me even more excited on this ride.

"I know it's normal for someone your age to have wild thoughts, but you need to learn to control yourself and not make a big mistake in a moment of impulse. Don't think I don't know what you're thinking. I've been there too, and I've seen those things before. So when you asked me last night, I knew exactly what you were up to. Don't learn nothing good and only pick up bad things."

My mother scolded me sternly in a corner by the school gate. I was just a child who had done something wrong, and I was scolded mercilessly. I was also distracted in class that day. I even peeked at my mother going to the toilet in the middle of the night. Did my mother already know about these actions? At that moment, I just felt stupid, stupid enough to want to jump out of the window.

"Mom, you're human too, of course you masturbate too."

Those were the words my mother said to me as she rode away on her motorcycle after scolding me at the school gate.

[Unable to Quit the Pleasure of the Mother Complex] (Chapter Two: Espionage)
Before starting the story, I still like to share my recent situation with everyone, as it's a habit of mine. Five years after my mother complex was resolved, I stopped writing due to family and work matters. A major reason was that my writing was no longer being discussed. I knew that over time, everyone would forget about it. I thought, since no one is discussing it anymore, maybe I shouldn't write anymore.

Moreover, more and more excellent writers are writing mother complex stories. I remember it was "A Recollection of a Mother Complex Past," and someone said it could be as excellent as a "Mother Complex Memoir." At that time, I thought, since someone has the same writing style as me, let them continue.

(To meet reader demand and respect the fact that most readers are Simplified Chinese users, the text has been converted to Simplified Chinese.)

Chapter Two: Spying

Although I was severely reprimanded, when I returned home that evening, my mother and I were
as usual . My mother liked to wear tight pants, white, tight, thin long pants, cropped at seven-tenths length, revealing her fair ankles. The curves of her calves and thighs looked exquisite under the pants, and her private parts were slightly protruding. Her fleshy buttocks were even more exquisite, with the entire outline of her briefs protruding from her pants.

I peeked into my mother's room from outside the curtain. My mother was used to reading at night. Her long, wavy hair was tied in a ponytail, and she wore frameless glasses, which made her look even more elegant. Her short t-shirt revealed her side breasts, but unfortunately, they were only a B cup. My mother got up, yawned, and stretched her arms upwards and backwards. Her breasts stretched taut over her clothes, making their shape even more alluring.

My mother looked a little tired. After stretching, she patted her fleshy buttocks with both hands. The sight of her swaying lower buttocks instantly aroused me. While rubbing my penis with one hand, I imagined my mother's beautiful figure in my mind. Am I sick? The shape of my mother's buttocks was round, full, and pert. No wonder men would steal glances at her on the street. I fantasized about squeezing those buttocks.

That night, I was restless while reading. I looked at erotic articles online and analyzed the possibility of my mother committing incest with me. "Damn, that's impossible." I thought about it. My mother's family received a Western education, so her family's values were more open from a young age. In contrast, my father was from a farming family and seemed much more reserved and stable.

Assuming my mother was a traditional Eastern woman, the chances of her being sexually harassed by her son and not daring to speak up were higher. I imagined my mother as a traditional, virtuous woman, with freshly washed clothes hanging on the balcony, her clothes slightly damp. I was behind her, and I lightly touched her buttocks a few times with my penis. At first, my mother pretended not to notice.

As my movements became more vigorous, the shape of my entire penis squeezed into my mother's buttocks. As I rubbed up and down, my mother blushed with shame and let me rub against her. I loved

this "rubbing buttocks and penis" action. On the one hand, it didn't have the same pleasure as direct penetration, but it gave me the feeling of forcing my mother to do something she didn't want to do. The excitement was even greater than if I were thrusting directly from behind.

My mother's brows furrowed slightly, as if she wanted to leave me but couldn't escape. My hands roamed up and down my mother's slender waist, and my fingers scratched the inside of her thighs. As my fingers were about to touch her private parts, my mother pulled inward, and her fleshy buttocks naturally arched and twisted back, further deepening the tightness between my penis and my mother's buttocks.
I slightly bent my right middle finger, as if hooking it, and pulled my mother's shorts and panties upwards, making her vulva rub against the fabric. My mother let out a soft "Ah..." I rested my chin on my mother's shoulder, breathing into her ear. My left hand, like a snake, reached under her clothes, cupping her breasts and making circular motions. Then, I spread my fingers and kneaded her white breasts that were exposed through the bra. From the outside, only the movements of my hand were visible; inside, my left hand was playing with and kneading my mother's breasts.

"Mom... don't make a sound."

"You... if you keep doing this, I'll tell your dad."

"Mom... you don't want to, and if you just let me finish quickly, it'll be over, right?"

"Ugh... hurry up... pull."

My mother, bound by family, dignity, and societal pressure, could only silently let me have my way again and again. In the end, my mother became my sex slave, a middle-aged woman teased by me again and again, until...

Don't be silly, this kind of plot is so cliché. Even I don't believe it myself, let alone others. In today's society, which son wouldn't get a beating if he rubbed his penis against his mother's butt? So, this traditional approach to women is completely ineffective. Besides, my mother is quite open-minded; if you bully her, she'll shock you on the spot. So I've been thinking, should I find something to hold against my mother? Sorry, threatening people isn't my style. A pure love affair with my mother? Sigh, I admit I'm perverted, but to be

like the mother and son in "Memoirs of a Mother Oedipus Reaction," where sex turns into love, my current situation isn't tragic enough.

So I understand that I simply enjoy the pleasure of incestuous mother-son relationships. Yes, like masturbation; I don't usually think about it, but when the urge comes, I really want it. When I realized that ordinary fantasies of my mother masturbating couldn't satisfy me, I started discussing sex with her. This allowed me to better understand where her bottom line was regarding sex.

"Knock, knock, knock," the knocking sound came from my mother. It seemed she was going to make me a late-night snack. Actually, I had already planned this. I pulled down my pants, looked at the computer, and while my right hand was masturbating, my mother opened the door. I pretended to be startled, hurriedly pulling up my pants and even falling off the chair. When my mother saw me on the floor, she was surprised for a moment, then blushed, realizing what I had just been doing.

"Mom...why did you come in so quickly?"

I asked shyly after pulling up my pants. "Oh, how was I supposed to know? You were doing...doing that kind of thing...hehe." My mother chuckled twice.

"Mom~" I protested, emphasizing my words.

"I understand. Next time, Mom will wait longer. Also, reading until midnight and
masturbating , aren't you afraid of being tired for class tomorrow?"

"Mom, you underestimate me. I have plenty of stamina."

I glanced at my mother, thinking that since she hadn't turned away after seeing me masturbating, but instead chatted with me for a bit, it seemed my mother was quite open about sex. What if I probed and questioned her further? "Mom, let me ask you something. Do you really masturbate?"

"Sigh... both women and men have physiological needs, just to varying degrees."

"So, Mom, is your sex drive strong?"

"You child, you're talking nonsense."

"Mom, I dare to talk to you about these things because you're more open-minded. If it were Dad..."

"Sigh, Mom understands you're in your adolescence, so it's normal to be interested in women."

"So, Mom, I think my sex drive is very strong. I always fantasize about you..."

"You still dare to say that? I'll beat you up! I told you this morning, and you still want to mess around with me!

" "But I can't even think about it?"

"Your thinking is really bad. Who can accept incest?"

"Mom, but no one knows. Besides, you have a good figure and are beautiful. Maybe strangers fantasize about you too."

"Pah! Don't talk nonsense! Do you want your mother to be messed around with by other men?"

"I wouldn't do that, Mom. I only think that way because you're sexy."

Actually, it wasn't just about my mother's appearance. The main reason was the incestuous relationship from Kansai, which excited me. In this process of developing a mother-son incestuous relationship, my mother gradually accepted the idea that incest was acceptable through my persuasion and guidance. But initially, I planned to let my mother accept another method first. Rather than the radical method of directly peeping at my mother while she was showering and masturbating on her underwear, I chose to let my mother understand it herself.

"Stop being so sweet-talking. You should stop masturbating. Get a girlfriend; it'll be better for your physical and mental health."

"But Mom, I'm a virgin. Can you help me lose my virginity?"

Note that when you say this, it means you've already given up. Because your mother is your mother, when you say this, she will imagine you on top of her and masturbating. What mother can withstand such an impact? It's a miracle she didn't slap you on the spot.

"Ugh... Mom, could you wear something a little sexy sometimes, so I can think about you more?"

"You... son, I'm getting old, are you really going to insist?"

"Mom, please, I'm begging you. I've been under a lot of pressure from studying lately, and I'm thinking about you while I masturbate to relieve that pressure."

"That's weird. Don't people usually just watch porn to take care of themselves?"

"I can't help it, what can I do? Mom's so beautiful, haha."

Praising a woman is always effective, no matter the era. "You... really... can't... do... anything..."

the mother pouted. "Then, Mom, can you do something seductive now? I haven't finished masturbating yet..." "

Now? Here?"

"No, Mom, don't be nervous, I won't masturbate in front of you, that's too embarrassing..."

"Just do something for me to admire,"

my mother said, stretching out her arms and tightly clamping her breasts together, revealing a deep V-shaped cleavage. As I praised her, I also intentionally or unintentionally rubbed my penis a few times. When my mother turned to face me, she bent over, her fleshy buttocks sticking out. The curve of her waist made her buttocks look even sexier. I wanted to thrust into her hard, imagining the swaying flesh of her buttocks.

"Snoring,"

my mother's playful manner showed me a different side of her. Should I take drastic measures or try a gentler approach? At this moment, I had completely put my mother in my heart. It seemed that her open-mindedness had unexpectedly created a good situation.

"Mom, you've gotten me into trouble again."

"What?"

"You made me think you'd do it twice more."

"Aren't you ashamed? Keep your voice down, don't let your dad hear."

Several times I've wanted to just grab my mother's buttocks, but I've held back for fear of being scolded. Her eyes seem to be telling me to keep it a secret. But sometimes when I ask her, she won't say anything, turning into a strict mother. A woman's heart is unfathomable. I've tried lightly touching her buttocks with the back of my hand, but several times I've only just touched them before she grabs my hand and glares at me fiercely.

Or I'll sneak peeks at her cleavage, thighs, buttocks, etc. My mother is becoming increasingly uncomfortable with me. It seems that getting her to overcome this barrier will require a lot of courage. First, I need to make her understand one thing.
"Adultery."

The thrill of a mother-son affair is unparalleled, fueled by the fear of being discovered. It's like a lover's affair, with both parties craving each other's bodies. But both must have hidden aspects of their personalities. For example, I'm a typical Oedipus complex, and what about my mother? Is she a nymphomaniac? A virgin? A slut? I don't know, so there are too many factors involved. It seems I can only take it one step at a time.

The next evening, when my mother cooked me a late-night snack, she was wearing pajamas, but with super short hot pants on the bottom. The key point is, she was wearing stockings with

garter belts—super seductive, practically the kind a maid would wear. My eyes almost popped out of my head. My mother then said, "This time you'll have your fun. You're not always this lucky." It's a pity she had that extra pair of shorts; otherwise, she would definitely be wearing lace panties with the garter belt fastened. No wonder there were moans coming from my mother's bedroom that night. It seems my mother hasn't had any intimacy in a long time. So why did she have sex with my father tonight after talking to me about those things last night?

[Unable to Quit the Pleasure of My Illusory Mother] (Chapter 3: Flirting)
Chapter 3 Flirting

It was an indescribable feeling. The barrier between my mother and me, with my increasingly bold actions, perhaps my mother's thoughts were gradually lowering their guard in these actions. That pleasure of walking on the edge of moral taboos was perhaps also a faint desire deep in my mother's heart. Unlike typical incestuous situations, I wanted my mother to slowly, from the bottom of her heart, accept the barrier of mother-son incest.

When I woke up early in the morning, my mother looked slightly tired. I smiled and walked to her side, secretly gazing at her figure and fantasizing. It seemed that my mother had made love with my father last night, and hadn't had sex in a long time, so her body was tired. Perhaps it was the way my son half-confessed to her the day before yesterday that reignited her desire. How long had it been since she had been teased like that by words, especially since it was her own son who had crossed that line?

A middle-aged woman, who had spent her life leisurely working, taking care of her family, and raising her children, had a different approach to sex over time. She went from making love every day to just collapsing into bed as soon as she got home. Perhaps that's how it is. My mother is an internet-savvy parent, absorbing a lot of new information online. I once saw her internet history and discovered she had secretly visited pornographic websites, but that was a long time ago. Since her internet broke, she hasn't gone online anymore.

I rested my chin on my mother's right shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Mom, will you dress a little sexier tonight?" My mother shrugged, trying to push me away, but I pressed myself against her back. Without turning her head, she said, "What are you saying? Your dad hasn't left yet."

My penis gradually hardened again, and I secretly nudged my mother's buttocks a few times before reluctantly leaving.

It was evening again, and I was studying alone. How long had it been since I'd spent so many quiet days studying? With my mother, a woman who always wanted what was best for her son but was also reasonable and wouldn't readily grant his every request, I started trying to flirt with her. Tonight, she was wearing a low-cut top that revealed her breasts, and long cotton pants, seemingly trying to hide the plump curves of her buttocks. After all, if I kept staring at her backside, she'd feel uncomfortable.

"Mom, you dressed like that today, it really got me hard right away."

"You still say that? If it wasn't for you, what mother in the world would do that?"

"Sorry, but I just love you, Mom."

"Stop flattering me, hurry up and finish this, go to sleep."

I leaned against my mother, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the bed. Seeing me so close, she tried to stand up, but I held her shoulders down. Looking at her ample bust, I stroked my penis directly in front of her face with my right hand. She glared at me and said, "Didn't we agree to take care of it ourselves? Now what…?" I half-wrapped my left arm around her shoulder, and after our eyes met, she stopped talking.

"Mom, listen to me first. If you think it's acceptable, I promise I won't tell anyone."
My mother glanced at me, seemingly wanting to say something, but then stopped. "Mom, I know you and Dad rarely have sex at night anymore. You also know I like mature women, but I don't like going to prostitutes because I'm afraid of getting diseases. But I really do like mature women, especially you, Mom. There aren't many women who maintain a figure as good as yours. Let me ask you honestly, when you walk down the street, don't people sometimes steal glances at you? Right?"

"Um..."

My mother's expression was slightly shy. "So, Mom, you've been single for so long, don't you ever think about having sex with other men?"

"Shame on you! I'm your mother, and you're saying things like that to me? Aren't you afraid I'll beat you to death?"

"Mom, tell me, do you like me?"

Time seemed to freeze. My mother stared at me, and I felt that this minute was the longest I'd ever experienced. I knew I was doing something beastly, something that would be struck by lightning. Was I just incredibly lustful, or did I have a personality that was utterly unafraid of family ruin? My mother's body, her sexual desire—I wanted to enjoy it. Perhaps I was the most perverted and deserving of death.

My mother stood up, and I hugged her from behind, my genitals rubbing against her fleshy buttocks. Her plump, round buttocks, combined with the slippery feel of my long pants, instantly made my penis even harder. My mother struggled, trying to shake off my hands, but I held her tightly, my arms wrapped around her buttocks, my genitals rhythmically moving up and down. After a while, my mother coldly said, "You'd better hurry up, or your father will come looking for me, and you'll be dead."
I immediately pulled down my underwear, revealing my penis. My mother was stunned for a moment. Although I didn't have an impressive length, my hardness and girth were not to be boasted about. I eagerly tried to pull down my mother's pants,
but she exclaimed, "I'm not going to let you have sex with me! Don't do anything rash!" I was stunned. My mother was panting, trying to catch her breath. "Don't rush, son," she said. "I understand what you just said, but it's impossible for me to accept it suddenly. Even without the blood ties between us, I would never let you have sex. You've been reading those erotic articles, and I understand your impulsive reasons. But some things need to be cultivated slowly. I'll say it again, I'm not against it, but you want me to treat you like a woman, not a sex slave."

I nodded. My mother, being highly educated, quickly grasped some of my points. I know women value feelings. Sometimes, when the feeling is right, a woman will take the initiative; when it's not, she won't even let you touch her. Perhaps my behavior tonight was too impulsive, giving my mother a very unpleasant experience. I silently put my pants back on, and my mother went back to her room.

I woke up early this morning, feeling a morning erection, and rushed to the toilet to urinate. After a gush of urine, I opened the door, and my mother was standing there. I glanced at her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her inside. I closed the toilet door, and my mother, still half asleep, was instantly awakened.

"Mom, you have to make it up to me."

"What are you talking about? Didn't you thrust hard enough into my butt last night?"

"That doesn't count. Besides, Dad's still changing clothes in the room."

"You know that, so why don't you let me out? Why are we talking so quietly?"

"Mom, it's because we're both afraid Dad will find out."

My mother and I stood facing each other, the cold toilet tiles behind her. I squeezed her buttocks tightly with both hands, feeling the flesh squeeze through my fingers. I pressed my whole body against her, sandwiching her between the wall and me. Her breasts were pressed tightly against my chest. I used my knees to forcefully spread her legs, so that my entire penis was pressed against her genitals, belly to belly.

Although both of them were dressed, the thrill of this clandestine affair made the mother blush unconsciously. Mother and son remained silent, only my penis pressed against her lower abdomen, rubbing up and down, sometimes circling, while I secretly pinched her buttocks and kissed her earlobe. The mother seemed to have given up resisting, letting me writhe and rub against her, as if to say, "You're done, so hurry up and leave."

I exposed my penis, pulling the back of my mother's hand to touch my glans. The mother whispered, "It smells so fishy." A trail of fluid from my glans stained the back of her hand. Finally, the mother had no choice but to grasp my penis and slowly stroke it up and down. The sounds of my father walking outside the door filled the mother with both fear and excitement.

"I can't take it anymore, you have to make it up yourself, I need to get out of here quickly," my mother said hurriedly.

"Mom, almost there, can't you see how hard I am?"

"Okay, I'll rub it for you a little more, if you still can't ejaculate, you'll have to figure it out yourself. And don't touch my private parts with your fingers anymore, I'll get angry."

My mother's right hand formed a rounded shape, grasped the base, and slowly moved up and down from bottom to top, finally her entire palm tightly covering the whole penis. I deliberately thrust a few times, and my mother glanced at me, her eyes even slightly smiling. My left hand did the same, rubbing my mother's buttocks to increase her sexual desire and help me ejaculate faster.
"So hard, aren't you ashamed?"

"Mom, it's because of you that I'm hard, don't you like it?"

"Go away, you just love to bully your mother. You dare to ask me to do this when your father is here, what about when he's not?"
"I'll eat you up, Mom~"

The mother's wrist moved faster and faster, combining adultery, incest, and discovery into a volley of desires. In the toilet of lust, mother and son, one half-dominant, the other half-compromising, each playing their own game in this incestuous relationship. The son wanted his mother to help him achieve pleasure, while the mother was caught in a moral dilemma, torn between wanting it or not, between being able to and not being able to. Perhaps, by helping her son masturbate, she had already proven herself. She realized that flirting with her son had escalated into adultery, and that harassment had led to her understanding of her own charm as a woman. The virtue and restraint that Eastern women were taught from childhood were all shattered in this instant.
The semen spilled on the floor, and my mother's hands were covered in a warm, fishy smell. My legs went weak, and I had to lean against the wall to stand up. After washing her hands, my mother pulled at her underwear in front of me, saying sullenly, "You've rubbed my underwear so much it's all crooked and sunk into my butt crack. Aren't you ashamed?" I pressed my penis against my mother's butt crack and said, "Mom, next time try wearing your underwear and let me rub it against your butt crack, okay?"

"Wife~~~"

A loud shout pulled me back to reality. My mother stood in front of the mirror adjusting her appearance and then called out, "In the bathroom, about to come out." I grabbed my mother's hand like a spoiled child. My mother glanced at me, and I immediately leaned in and kissed her deeply. My mother didn't say anything and left the bathroom.

During class this morning, I was restless all day, my penis almost always erect. I don't understand my mother's thoughts. Perhaps those incestuous scenarios between mother and son are impossible in reality, yet I tried to experience them. People always feel a strange sense of loss after getting what they want. After the passion subsided, the thought of "my mother giving me a handjob" popped into my mind. It wasn't too bad, though; it didn't feel particularly pleasurable.

But in that moment, that drug-like thrill of infidelity was irresistible. My mother's every move, her slender hands, her teasing caresses of my penis, that woman playing with my penis with a slightly disdainful look, that mother who, as a mother, was afraid of being discovered by her husband while giving her son a handjob—many times, I could only understand it in the moment.

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Unable to Quit the Pleasure of the Illusionary Mother (Chapters 1-3)

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