Incest Memoirs

I remember it was lunchtime one day after school. My mother was 170cm tall, slim, with long hair and a decent appearance. Because I resemble her, I inherited her height; I'm 180cm tall and also slim, and I don't gain weight easily.
My mother worked at a nearby electronics factory, I think she assembled NB parts. Because it was close to home, she would buy lunch to eat at noon. I had just finished my midterms, and when I saw her come home, she asked how the exams went. I said they were good. Then, I deliberately asked if I would get a prize if I improved. My mother asked how much allowance I wanted. I hesitated and said I didn't need allowance; I wanted my mother to help me masturbate, just once.
My mother looked shocked and asked why I had such thoughts. I blurted out that some mothers in other countries help their sons masturbate.
I was really driven by lust and babbled incoherently. My mother scolded me severely, telling me not to think like that, and then went to work. Afterwards, I regretted it; I shouldn't have blurted it out so quickly.
Later that evening, my mother was cooking in the kitchen. I stood at the kitchen door, staring intently at her buttocks. My mother is 170cm tall, and her beautiful buttocks, accentuated by her tight jeans, had already made my penis hard for quite some time. I was incredibly stupid then, running over to my mother and asking her to come with me to the bathroom, since it was right next to the kitchen. I kept calling her, and finally, she came with me.
I even locked the door—the kind with a doorbell lock. When
my mother asked what was wrong, I immediately pulled down my pants and underwear, revealing my penis. It was a normal length, but quite thick. My mother looked at my penis; the pink glans stretched the foreskin back. I deliberately masturbated with my right hand and said to my mother, "I've been trying for so long, but I can't ejaculate. What should I do?"
I know it was stupid, but at the time, I didn't think that much about it. Looking back now, it was incredibly idiotic.
My mother suddenly panicked, saying she didn't know what to do. I told her to use her hand to help me masturbate. Finally, she actually extended her right hand, using a normal grip in the same direction as me, not the reverse grip like in porn movies where you're kneeling on the ground.
At that moment, I thought my trick had worked. But then, after my mother stroked my penis a couple of times, it seemed like some secretions from the tip of my penis got on her hand, so she quickly rinsed it with the tap, telling me to rinse it with cold water myself, and then left, leaving me a little bewildered. But I think I'll never forget the feeling of my mother's touch.
After that, for a while, no matter how hard I tried to get my mother to help me masturbate, she refused, saying that if my father found out, she would beat me to death. I was very naive then, thinking that masturbating wouldn't hurt, as long as I had some pleasure.
Later, as time passed, my mother stopped mentioning it.
After my mother held my burning penis, for a while…
Whenever my mother went to the kitchen, I would pretend to go to the back to get a drink of water and casually ask if she needed any help. Once, when my mother was busy cooking, I really wanted to pinch her plump buttocks. My fingers were slightly spread, only a few centimeters away from her shapely buttocks, but I stopped myself because I was afraid she would get angry.
Another time, I was watching TV with my mother in the afternoon. By then, she already knew what I was thinking. When I stared at her, she spoke up, telling me not to have such thoughts and giving me a long lecture on self-respect. I just kept saying, "Okay, okay, I know."
Then I deliberately asked her, "Do you think my...things are big?" My mother said they were quite big, and I got really excited then. My mother even told me that you could tell how big something was just by looking at its nose.
My family is a traditional one; my parents came from the countryside to Taipei to make a living. My mother had me very early, so I think she was hesitant to talk about sex, mostly due to the traditional views of the older generation. Later, when I went to university, my feelings for my mother gradually faded, but incest still attracted me, especially mature women. However, in real life, older women are often not very attractive; those in porn are high-quality, and it's hard to find them in the real world.
One weekend, I came home. The washing machine was in the back, and that night I wanted to take a shower, so I went to collect the laundry. I saw my mother washing clothes by the washing machine, wearing pajamas, a thin top and shorts typical of housewives. My mother's breasts were about a C cup, her thighs and calves were well-proportioned, and her hips were a bit fleshy but firm. She was 170 cm tall, and from behind, she was quite alluring.
Perhaps because my father had been making tea since childhood, my mother's skin was also well-maintained, much better than her sisters'.
The back hallway was crowded. I squeezed past my mother from behind to grab a stick to hold down my clothes—one of those clothes hangers. My penis accidentally slid past her buttocks from left to right, sending a jolt of pleasure through my glans and instantly making me hard. It made my mind wander to a bunch of incestuous stories; I wonder if my mother noticed.
The washing machine was running loudly, and I slid past again, this time deliberately stopping behind my mother's buttocks, but not too close. I pretended I couldn't find my clothes because it was too dark, and even asked my mother if that was mine. At this point, the washing machine was directly in front of my mother, and my clothes were directly above and in front of it. My mother asked me for the stick, braced her left hand on the washing machine lid, slightly raised her toes, leaned forward, and struggled to hook my clothes with her right hand.
I stared directly at my mother's plump, peach-shaped buttocks, the way they naturally arched from her body. My penis swelled to its limit. I placed it against her waist, and finally, she pressed her lower abdomen against the washing machine lid, propping herself up. Using both hands and feet, she lifted her right knee, her left toes barely touching the floor, while her right knee and thigh straddled the washing machine. I watched as her genitals rubbed against the edge of the lid, but only for a few seconds.
My mother then took the clothes down, saying the hanger was somehow caught on it.
I quickly said, "Mom, be careful when you get down, it's dark. Make sure your right foot is on the right spot." She said, "Don't worry," but as soon as she finished speaking, her right knee slipped on the edge of the lid. I quickly supported her waist with both hands; the firm feel gave me a thrill. I subtly helped her down, and she joked, "You scared me!"
I told Mom not to scare me. By then, she had regained her balance, but I deliberately thrust my penis forward, preventing her from moving her buttocks. She could only slide straight down from above, my penis bulging out of her basketball shorts. My mother's private parts were right on top of my glans, tightly gripping my buttocks in the cleft between her fleshy buttocks. The whole process was very short, less than ten seconds.
My mother seemed to notice my penis, and suddenly neither of us spoke, only the sound of the washing machine motor could be heard. At this moment, my penis, protruding from her basketball shorts, was only a short distance from my mother's fleshy buttocks.
My mother said she would grab her clothes and go take a shower quickly, but I didn't want to miss this opportunity.
I deliberately pushed my penis forward. My penis was still in my pants, but through my underwear and the basketball shorts pressed tightly against my mother's thin shorts and thong, it felt really good. I never thought that after so many years, I would still have such a romantic encounter. My dad seemed to be making tea in the living room, and my sister was still working outside and hadn't come home yet. How could I let go of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
Seeing that my mother didn't react, I boldly wrapped my arms around her slender waist and plunged my penis deep into her buttocks. My mother just turned her head and looked at me in surprise, without saying a word. Her body began to sway from side to side, trying to struggle to get rid of my intrusion. She kept trying to remove my hands from her waist. I decided to play along and simply put my hands on the washing machine lid. Between my arms was my mother's slender waist and fleshy buttocks, in front of her was the washing machine, on her left and right were my arms, and behind her was my penis. I deliberately squeezed my penis in a circular motion, teasing my mother's tender buttocks. Even through my pants, my penis felt a tingling sensation from those soft and plump buttocks.
I simply rested my head on the back of my mother's neck. It was dark, with only a small nightlight above the washing machine. Through the light, I gazed at my mother's collar. Beneath the loose collar, a pair of white breasts with a deep cleavage appeared, even more alluring against the backdrop of an unknown-colored bra. I pressed my entire body against my mother's back, and her breasts swayed from side to side with my movements, making my penis harden. I deliberately moved the head of my penis to my mother's genitals, directly below, and rhythmically squeezed her vulva up and down. I noticed my mother didn't even turn around to see me, letting me tease her body. However, when my hands were kneading the base of her C-cup breasts, my mother turned around and stared at me intently. I realized I had really upset her this time. My mother didn't show much expression. Just then, my father called to my mother, and she only said, "Hurry up and take a shower."
I quickly left.
While showering in the bathroom, I masturbated twice, still hard. Thinking back to when my mother's buttocks moved slightly up and down with my movements, I vaguely heard a soft groan. I was terrified she would tell my father. The next day, I made an excuse to rush back to my dorm. My mother, as usual, waited at the door for me to take something to eat.
As I left, she gave me her usual advice, telling me to take good care of myself and that my sister was well-behaved at home, so I shouldn't worry.
Then she said she knew I had a lot of energy and told me to be more self-controlled to avoid hurting myself. I actually laughed. I said I was young and energetic and got hard easily, three times a day was no problem. My mother didn't say anything, only that I should masturbate less before coming back next time, and that studying was more important. I felt there was a hidden meaning in her words, but I didn't say anything and left.
My mother is a traditional Taiwanese woman, the reserved housewife type. She has a proud, even rebellious, personality. She doesn't smile much, but when she does, it's beautiful, like Gwei Lun-mei, not like the big-mouthed Cai Shishi.
I love it when my mother wears her hair up in a bun, probably influenced by the ancient Chinese custom of tying hair into a bun, exposing the neck, with a gold hairpin inserted, and a few strands hanging down from the bun. Every time I imagine it, it gets my penis hard again.
Unfortunately, in real life, my mother rarely wears her hair up. She has medium-length, thick, black hair, and only ties it into a ponytail when cleaning or busy.
My mother's profile is exquisite, especially the inward curve of her waist, meeting the graceful outward curve of her buttocks, flowing down her peach-like buttocks to her private parts, along her snow-white thighs to her calves—a natural and incredibly alluring sight.
Like the Coca-Cola bottle with its curved shape, it retains the natural curves of a woman's body from both the front and the side. I used to imagine myself kneading and playing with her left breast from behind with my left hand, while my right hand scratched her private parts from the front, and finally, my penis enjoying the elasticity of her buttocks between my thighs. Just imagining it made me ejaculate every time. After all, I have a strength that is also a weakness: my imagination is too rich.
I remember when I first wanted to have an incestuous relationship with my mother, she immediately refused and even threatened to tell my father if we did it.
Unexpectedly, a few years later, although my mother is proud and rebellious on the surface, she seems to have started to have a bit of femininity, the kind that is fashionable. Maybe it's because when we were young, she couldn't focus on herself and could only take care of the family. Now that we children are all grown up and can take care of ourselves, my mother has started to dress up lately. However, she only wears light makeup when she has to attend banquets or go out to run errands. Otherwise, she still maintains the appearance of a housewife at home.
The pleasurable sensation of masturbation last time is unforgettable. Seriously, a woman's service is definitely more pleasurable than masturbating yourself, but you need technique. I feel very lucky; my mother's hands are very skillful. I don't know where she learned it. A traditional Taiwanese woman like my mother probably hasn't had many men in her life. But it doesn't matter. One advantage of incest is that my mother can't hide from me at home, giving me many opportunities. Thinking about this, I couldn't wait to go home and enjoy the pleasure of masturbation again.
Unfortunately, reality is always cruel. After that, I tried every means to get my mother to help me masturbate again, but she refused no matter what, pretending to be clueless and saying she forgot. Finally, she got a little annoyed by my nagging, her eyebrows furrowed, revealing a poker face, clearly telling me not to think nonsense. At this point, I thought of those incest articles that say you can threaten your mother with what she's done to make her submit.
That's bullshit. In real life, mothers are proud, or to put it bluntly, arrogant. They don't allow me to touch her, don't allow me to do anything indecent, and don't allow me to mention our mother-son relationship.
My mother said that last time was just an accident. If she hadn't had a few drinks, she wouldn't have been so confused as to help me masturbate. I said, "Mom, but you seemed to enjoy it too." My mother said she'd forgotten, and that it was impossible. I really regretted not filming it; I was so horny at the time that I almost forgot about the pleasure.
Thinking about it, I'm usually a simple-minded person, but I tend to have all sorts of wild thoughts about my mother, mainly because of that incestuous connection, which excites me. This time, I can only suffer in silence and try to forget about it.
When I was in college, I worked at a department store. There was a traditional shop there, selling things like 7-Eleven, but much more, including freshly baked bread and milk. Almost all the department store employees, trying to save money, ate there.
The employees were mostly mothers, the kind whose kids were only in elementary or middle school. The oldest shop manager's son was only in high school. Some people might think I could have sex with two or three mature women like in those erotic stories, but that's impossible. Just look, don't overthink it.
Inside, there was a store manager, two assistant store managers, one full-time employee, and four part-time workers. The part-time workers were out of the question: one was a tomboyish woman who didn't dress well, and another was a plump woman who worked part-time on weekends. The store manager and the two assistant store managers both looked very motherly, the kind of people who seemed kind. Finally, there was the full-time employee, the youngest among them, who had a six-year- old son. Her husband had apparently passed away, leaving her to raise her son alone.
Someone suggested, "That's perfect, go for an older woman; older women have a high demand." I said, "
Forget it." That full-time employee had been dating a man more than ten years her senior, also from a single-parent family, for a long time. Sometimes that man would come to the store to drop by and get intimate with her. That left me. I approached it with a job-seeking mentality, not thinking too much about it, because my mind was still filled with the image of my mother.
So, one time, I was restocking drinks at the back. It was a busy weekend, so drinks sold out quickly. I often had to help at the counter and run to the back warehouse to restock refrigerated drinks. While I was in the refrigerated section, I would sometimes peek through the gaps in the drinks to see if there were any pretty girls or women in the store. I dare say every man would peek. With the mindset of restocking drinks while secretly watching pretty girls, I actually saw something amazing.
One time, I was in the refrigerated section, where customers outside usually don't notice there are people inside. Suddenly, I saw a pair of pink, plump breasts clearly visible through the refrigerator door. That time, a mother was buying drinks with her child. Her face was fixed on the drinks, and her breasts were completely exposed through the gap under the drinks. I could see them clearly.
Because there were refrigeration light tubes inside the refrigerator, each costing a thousand, I looked closely and realized the mother was wearing a loose-fitting neckline, which explained the exposure. I estimated they were at least an E cup—truly huge breasts. Sorry, I'm a big-breast enthusiast.
The woman was bending over and kneeling in front of the refrigerator, listening to her son say what he wanted to drink.
I thought to myself, "Kid, take your time choosing, let me look around a bit more."
Unfortunately, I hadn't even looked for a minute before the lady grabbed a plastic bottle and juice and went to the counter to pay.
I stared at her back, using every man's keen eye to scan her figure.
Medium build, not tall, dressed like a wealthy woman. Her back view was nice, and she had makeup on her profile, so she seemed to take care of herself. As for her husband, well, let's not even talk about him.
The atmosphere inside the shop was pleasant, probably because the assistant shopkeeper was very humorous, the manager was a bit scatterbrained, the older woman was quite gossipy, and I was the teasing type.
Let me first introduce this woman, whom I always thought was my senior, only a few years older than me. It turns out she's five years older than me, which is quite surprising. She
doesn't wear makeup and always wears her hair in a ponytail to work. Company policy dictates that women don't have breasts, maybe an A or B cup, but her height is an advantage—around 172cm. I've never seen her wear pants that show her thighs or calves; they're always those tacky flared jeans or cotton pants.
Part-time workers can dress casually, but full-time employees have to wear suits,
specifically dark blue ones. This woman, who actually looks like my older sister, has a very attractive feature: her wide, slightly flared but fleshy buttocks. Watching her buttocks sway as she walks gets me a little excited. She doesn't have a thick waist; her slender waist and swaying hips, combined with her ponytail, inspire endless fantasies.
We each have half an hour for lunch, which we can eat in the warehouse. We often eat with other employees, usually two at a time. I usually take a nap after eating.
I remember once eating with her, not the other chubby woman.
Calling her "elder sister" sounds too old, so let's call her "older sister" instead. The warehouse aisle isn't actually that small; it's the kind where two people have to turn sideways to pass. That time at dinner, as she was turning
sideways to go through, her pink, tender buttocks accidentally brushed against my penis. This aroused my wicked thoughts, so I deliberately asked her some erotic questions during dinner. Since we part-time workers were among the younger group, and the women in the shop actually quite liked to make dirty jokes, I chatted with her. She spoke vaguely, mentioning things like she went to nightclubs and hotels. Looking at her, I didn't expect her to be so promiscuous; I didn't know if she was exaggerating or telling the truth. She said her friend described her as looking innocent on the outside, but completely different in bed. I deliberately feigned disbelief. She even said she knew which side of a man would feel best when massaged, which reminded me of the time my mother massaged my anus, making my penis hard again.
I said I didn't believe her and wanted to make a bet, but she said, "Fine, forget it."
I remembered the time my sister made a mistake at the counter. Luckily, I kept my composure, otherwise, a customer complaint would have been disastrous. Usually, everyone in the store helps each other out; it's normal. At this moment, I deliberately brought up that incident with my sister.
She kept smiling and apologizing. I asked what kind of reward she wanted. She said something like, "Something for you to eat or a drink." I already knew she was going to treat me to something from the store—that's her usual tactic.
My sister laughed heartily and asked, "So what do you want?" I deliberately said I'd never had a girlfriend and wanted one. I leaned close to my sister's ear, and she jumped, trying to pull away. I said, "What are you doing? Do you think I'm going to hit you?" I said, "I need to whisper something so no one can hear."
My sister said, "You're done. It's just the two of us in the warehouse, still acting like idiots." I deliberately sounded mysterious, and my sister seemed interested, leaning closer. At that moment, I looked at my sister's breasts. I couldn't see any cleavage; maybe she was wearing a bra. I deliberately didn't speak in her ear, using my breath to tickle it.
My sister said, "Aren't you going to tell me?" I said, "I want you to kiss me."
My sister was dumbfounded. I said I'd never been kissed by a girl before, which was actually a lie.
My sister looked confused and just stood there, continuing to eat her noodles. I deliberately acted a little sulky, eating while making sarcastic remarks about how I always help her. My sister looked hesitant. Finally, when it was time to eat, I deliberately went out first.
Actually, I didn't think much of it. It was okay if I didn't get a kiss. That night, I deliberately didn't talk to my sister. When it was time to close up and leave the store, I was busy restocking. The two full-time employees were settling accounts at the counter, leaving my sister and me to take turns on the night shift.
I went to the back warehouse to get drinks and found my sister behind me. She was looking at me, and I guessed she was overthinking things, so I asked her to let me pass since she was at the door. My sister said, "Why are you sulking?" I said, "No, I'm not." Then she said, "If you want to go out, just go over there. If you don't get a kiss, you're responsible."
That felt great, but I deliberately didn't show any smugness. My sister told me to close the door.
I leaned against the door to keep someone from coming in. My sister said it was just this once, and quickly kissed my cheek. Although she wasn't particularly pretty, I only wanted to pinch her buttocks. I deliberately acted like I did on TV, saying it was too fast and I'd do it again, that this time I'd take it slow. My sister's breathing became heavy. She glanced at me, then looked into my eyes and pressed her lips against my forehead. I deliberately waited until she came down, knowing
I'd shock her. As she tried to pull away, I immediately grabbed her waist, spun her around, and pinned her against the door. My sister was startled. Neither of us spoke, but she knew what I was going to do from my eyes. I pressed my whole body against her, using my knees to spread her legs, and forcefully kissed her lips, a French kiss. My sister was frightened and tried to push me away, but with my skillful tongue, although her lips escaped my grasp several times, I held her head firmly, using my body weight to pin her against the corner of the door and the wall.
My sister didn't scream, only gave me a gentle push. I think she was terrified; she probably didn't expect me to be so bold. We kissed passionately for about five minutes.
I left my sister, and a regular employee knocked on the door. Startled, my sister and I quickly left. I pretended to be busy, but the manager said to hurry up and pack up, we had to leave.
Before leaving, my sister didn't say anything. Taking advantage of a moment when the lights were dim, as I walked from the warehouse to the back door, I deliberately pinched my sister's buttocks with my palm. I used my ring and middle fingers, pressing against the outside of her jeans, while my index and little fingers pressed against the edge of her right buttock and the left. My thumb then squeezed her buttocks hard from top to bottom, including the pad of my thumb against her vulva, like a lotus finger squeeze. I pinched for about ten seconds before letting go.
Seeing my boldness, my sister turned and glared at me. We deliberately walked slowly behind her. She said, "You're really daring! Aren't you afraid I'll yell at you?" I replied, "Sister, you owe me! You made me wait all afternoon for your kiss. Of course I was angry, but it wasn't really a lie."
My sister didn't say anything, only asking if I liked her. I said it depended on the situation. Her half-smile made my heart flutter, but unfortunately, there were many security cameras in the department store, so I didn't dare touch her. We reached the parking lot, where I said goodbye to her, and she returned the gesture.
I deliberately walked up to her and asked her to squat down next to her motorcycle, because I didn't want anyone to see us doing something inappropriate. My sister looked puzzled until I brought my lips close to her soft lips, then she realized what I was doing. I forced a kiss before leaving.
For a while afterward, my sister acted the same way with me in the store, nothing changed. I only acted inappropriately in the warehouse or when we were alone.
Once, when we went to the large warehouse at the back to get some goods, the boss pulled my sister into the shadows. The warehouse door closed, and outside, there were sounds of other shop employees and customers laughing and joking. My sister said we couldn't stay too long, or we'd be caught slacking off. I hugged my sister from the front, first holding her slender waist, then forcefully kissing her. My sister's body trembled. My hands slid restlessly down to her fleshy buttocks, rubbing her buttocks back and forth. My hard penis pressed directly against my sister's soft lower abdomen. My sister was wearing cotton pants today, and the feel of them was truly indescribable.
My fingers kept inadvertently touching my sister's tender vulva. From passionate kisses to tongues on her ears and earlobes, all the way down her jade-like neck, kissing her under her chin and then circling back up, my sister's face was flushed, and her breathing was heavy. I pressed my sister down onto the beverage box next to us. My sister was like a seductive pornographic pose, lying face down on the beverage box, the curve of her buttocks right in front of me. My mind was filled with thoughts of how to defile my mother.
My sister turned around and said we couldn't do it now. I said I really wanted to, but she insisted and refused.
I pulled out my penis, hard as a rock, and pressed it against her pants. I said I wouldn't withdraw, but I had to let her ejaculate first.
My sister looked at my penis and seemed flustered. I laughed. Is this what you call experienced? I guess my sister might still be a virgin.
My sister said she didn't know what to do. I said it was best, you couldn't possibly not know. At this moment, my sister sat up, reached out and grasped my penis, gently stroking it. I thought to myself, this is completely different from my mother's, because stroking is very unskilled, so I won't say more.
I pulled down my sister's entire cotton pants, down to her pink Adidas sneakers. My sister panicked, saying she was shy, and kept pulling at her private parts. I used brute force, thinking that if she faced me directly, she might be too shy. I remembered that my mother used to let me touch her buttocks with her back to me. It seems that when women are violated, they are less resistant if they don't see how the man touches them, and they even fantasize about enjoying the caresses and teasing.
I flipped my sister over again, and she was lying on the beverage box. I took advantage of the situation and pulled down her cotton pants again along her buttocks. This time, my sister panicked and even sobbed, begging me not to take off her underwear, saying she didn't want to today.
I pleaded and coaxed her, saying I didn't want to steal anything, that I just wanted to admire and play with her beautiful buttocks. I reluctantly pulled her cotton pants down to her thighs, asking her to relax, support her waist, and stick her buttocks out. She said it was too erotic and she was embarrassed.
I begged and pleaded until she finally leaned back, placing her hands on the beverage box, naturally lowering her waist to reveal her plump, elastic buttocks. With her cotton pants only halfway down her thighs, the sight made me want to masturbate myself. I asked her to bring her knees together, then spread her legs, thighs pressed together, and stand on her calves with her toes pointed – a pose inspired by the washing machine incident, stretching her cotton underwear wide open.
She said it was humiliating and told me to hurry.
I stood to her left, deliberately turning my body so my back was facing her head.
I stretched out my palms and fingers, first gently pinching and kneading her buttocks. As her panties rubbed against them, I felt the buttocks I had always dreamed of. I imagined them to be my mother's buttocks and kept playing with them. I squeezed my penis against her buttocks again. Even though her buttocks were covered by her panties, she could still feel the heat and swelling of my penis. My hands kept caressing her slender waist, and her entire back was caressed by me. My sister kept moaning softly and was limp on the beverage box. It seemed that she rarely received such caresses from a man.
At this point, I kept rubbing my penis against my sister's panties. Even through the panties, my penis was still constantly teasing her private parts. Finally, I simply imitated what I did with my mother last time, rhythmically pressing the head of my penis against her tender opening. My sister involuntarily grabbed my right hand. I really wanted to ejaculate right then and there because my sister's panties were already soaked. It seems that the buttocks are a sensitive area for many women. I used my fingers to spread my sister's buttocks apart and pulled her panties together to form a thong. My sister said no, but I ignored her and kept pulling them up while we were saying some very lewd things. This made my sister extremely excited, both visually and verbally.
Looking at the hair on her anus and the pubic hair peeking out from under her panties, I was instantly excited. I pressed my penis against her tender vulva—a technique I'd learned from watching adult videos. Although my sister was wearing panties, she was still nervous. She said I couldn't penetrate her, so I suggested we rub it in. She didn't say anything.
I pushed my penis up until it was fully erect, pressing it against her vulva through her panties, and slowly began to thrust. As her panties became soaked with her juices, the pleasure in my penis reached an indescribable level.
I asked my sister to close her thighs so that my penis could be completely enveloped. I used my knees to clamp her peach-like buttocks and began to thrust back and forth. This feeling was almost indistinguishable from the pleasure of my mother masturbating. With the rhythm and speed of the thrusting, the prelude had already made me want to ejaculate, and now this visual stimulation was making me reach peak pleasure.
I watched my sister's ponytail sway incessantly. She supported her upper body with her elbows clenched into fists, letting her nipples rub against the beverage carton. I wanted to touch her breasts, but she wouldn't let me, and she didn't undress or expose them.
I thought it didn't matter, they weren't my mother's pudding-like breasts. After about ten minutes of this thrusting, I felt it was about time, or I'd get scolded when I got home.
I held my sister's slender waist and kept slapping my thighs against her firm, meatball-like buttocks. The fleshy texture of her buttocks jiggled, and my penis slid along with her thighs, lubricated by the fluid flowing from her vagina through my underwear. Although it was just casual sex, my sister wasn't my girlfriend, yet she was willing to let me do this. Turns out I'm not bad-looking, otherwise, how could a deadbeat like me be able to play with that woman's fleshy buttocks like this?
As I finished my thrusts, ignoring my sister's protests, I slipped my hands under her armpits and kneaded her breasts. She moaned softly, the kind of moaning that was barely audible, a weak whimper through her nose. After I'd ejaculated, I lifted her up, still holding her breasts, and held her close to my chest, kissing her neck repeatedly. Her face was flushed like the sunset, and she turned to me, saying, "You should be satisfied now. I gave you so much more than just kissing."
I nodded and pressed my lips to hers. The intertwining of our tongues brought her complete satisfaction. That's how women are; you have to caress and satisfy their desires. Don't neglect them afterward. Before ejaculation, they're all eager and horny; afterwards, they're completely uninterested.
Although my sister is pretty, having enjoyed her good figure, I couldn't neglect her.
After that, I didn't bother my sister anymore while working. After all, I had promised, so I shouldn't keep demanding pleasure like a child. At most, I would secretly kiss her a few times when we were alone to satisfy my craving, or when customers were paying in the freezer or behind the counter, I would secretly nudge my penis against them a couple of times. My sister would only glance at me. At most, after the customers left, when I approached her, she would touch my penis with her delicate hand, smiling, without saying a word.
We already understood each other perfectly. I won't go into the other pleasures of working together, because recounting even one exciting memory is really tiring for me.
I worked for at least three and a half hours; my shoulders were stiff and my neck was a little sore. Here's a little foreshadowing: earlier I mentioned the youngest single mother among the staff, whom I called Sister XX. Because her name is only one character different from mine—the surname is different, but the third character of our given names is different—they would say she's Sister XX's younger brother. So, I'll refer to her as the single mother. I got along quite well with her; the shop often joked, "Single mother, your younger brother—that's me," and so on.
Eventually, I got used to it and wasn't surprised anymore. She was the prettiest woman in the shop; that white and blue striped top and light blue long skirt—no doubt, she was wearing sanitary pads underneath. She really looked good.
This recollection is about my time working part-time during college. I was very happy to work at this shop, and I worked there for almost two years. Unfortunately, due to academic pressure, I eventually lost control of my emotions and sometimes treated people very badly. The mothers there were very tolerant of me. Looking back, I realize I was really wrong. It's all in the past now, and although they don't hold it against me, I do. This has made me more tactful in my interactions with others, preventing me from hurting people with my temper. I'm truly grateful to the shop staff for creating such wonderful memories in my life. Although it was enjoyable, it was only a small part of my life.
[The End]

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