Obsessed with Mom

In 2010, I was 12 years old and started junior high school. My mother was 32.
The first month of junior high, September 11th, a Saturday, was still very hot in Wuhan, despite it being September – truly a furnace city. It was another day my mother slept with me. The air conditioner was on, and we lay in bed, both wearing only our underwear.
I was still obsessed with my two big, red-topped breasts, playing with them in my hands, kneading and squeezing them, kissing them repeatedly. My mother blushed. "Songsong, tell me, is this why you chose Wuhan University Foreign Languages School?"
It seemed she knew exactly what was going on. I had no choice but to admit, "I can't bear to leave you, Mom..." "So, Songsong, have you ever liked any girls? Have you ever written them love letters?" "No."
I knew my mother had wanted to ask me this for a long time; she was still a little worried that I had psychological problems, that I was too attached to my mother.
"If you have any, feel free to make friends. My Songsong is a handsome young man, I'm sure girls will like you. Don't any girls pursue you?"
"Am I attractive to girls? Does Mom like me?" "Of course I do, but I'm asking your peers." I knew I couldn't keep hiding from them, so I held onto Mimi's breasts and looked at my mother affectionately. "I love Mom too! I don't like those young girls. They write me love letters, but I ignore them. I only like being with Mom. Mom, is there something wrong with me?" "Songsong is fine, he just clings to Mom all the time and ignores other girls. You can try dating them more." "
But I still like Mom more, I'm not interested in them." As I said this, I hugged my mother tightly again. My mother hesitated, then gently hugged me and patted my back.
By then, I was already 1.67 meters tall, two centimeters taller than my mother. Sleeping with my mom was a little awkward for her, since I was already quite grown up, and I would get an erection when I touched her breasts. We slept together once a month, and I'd bump into her quite a few times. In the summer, it was hot, and I only wore underwear, so it was very obvious. The first few times, my mom would frown and seem a little flustered, but after it happened a lot, I didn't do anything further, and she got used to it, though she would still blush, especially when she saw the little tent in my underwear.
When I first entered school, I was considered the most handsome boy in my class—tall, good-looking, and academically excellent. I also played basketball and ran regularly, so I had a great physique, well-developed chest muscles, and six-pack abs, which attracted a lot of girls. But I really had no interest in them, nor any sexual interest. My love for my mom had deeply influenced my sexual orientation.
Among my peers at school, I was probably the only boy who could share a bed with my mom once a month and freely enjoy her beautiful breasts. In school, we circulated comic books with explicit content. The boys would lewdly look at pages with breasts, saying things like, "I wish I could touch them." I would silently despise them, while simultaneously feeling grateful that I got to enjoy the most beautiful breasts in the world every month. I adored my mother's breasts—C-cup, round, white, and the perfect size.
Besides her breasts, which I could freely enjoy, I also constantly thought about my mother's beautiful buttocks. The scene from my fifth-grade birthday night was etched in my mind, vivid and clear, even though my mother said it was just a wet dream. I had similar dreams many times afterward, but none were very clear. Only that one time, every detail was clear, so I had reason to believe it was real, that my mother was lying to me, but I couldn't confirm it. That big, white, soft buttocks were so tempting; every time I thought about them, I got an erection!
While hugging my mother, my face was pressed against her breasts, and my left hand was on her back. I really wanted to put my hand down and touch Mom's buttocks, to feel them again.
Once the thought took hold, it wouldn't go away. The more I thought about it, the harder my penis became, pressing straight against Mom's leg.
Mom tried to dodge but couldn't, so she gave up. I hugged Mom, panting heavily. I felt her body heat on my penis, it felt so good, but I didn't dare to move.
Mom told me a lot of funny stories about the boys and girls in her class when she was young. I knew what she meant, I didn't want to listen, and I wasn't really listening. I just gave her half-hearted replies.
Two hours passed, and my penis remained hard, the tip of my boxer shorts getting wet.
Finally, Mom couldn't hold back anymore. "Songsong, go to sleep. It's not good for you to keep doing this, sweetie." Mom's face was almost red after she said that. "Go, go pee, it'll help." I got out of bed to pee, holding my burning hot penis in my hand, my mind filled with thoughts of Mom's buttocks, but I couldn't pee. About five minutes later, I went back to bed and told Mom I couldn't pee.
Mom rolled over, turning her back to me, saying she wanted to change positions so I could fall asleep quickly too. I agreed and hugged her from behind, my left hand reaching up to her chest, grasping her right breast.
In this position, Mom couldn't see my genitals. She'd even turned off the light before getting back into bed, so I boldly and carefully used my right hand, sandwiched between Mom and me, to pull my penis out of my underwear. My penis pressed against the gap between Mom's thighs.
Mom lifted her left leg slightly, then lowered it, trapping my penis between her thighs—it felt so good!
At that moment, I only thought about how Mom couldn't see my penis, so I let it out, without considering that touching her body would inevitably lead to her noticing. My brain short-circuited! That's why Mom spoils me so much.
"Sweetie, don't overthink it, go to sleep," Mom said softly.
"Mmm," I replied contentedly, hugging Mom tightly and casually grabbing her breasts. My penis thrust forward again—it felt so good, but I dared not move again. It took a long time before I finally drifted off to sleep.
After falling asleep, I had a dream. I dreamt that my mother and I were in the same position as we are now, naked and entangled together. My right hand was stroking my mother's back, and my left hand was kneading her big, white buttocks. My penis was thrusting in and out of my mother's vagina. I couldn't see what my mother's vagina looked like, but I could feel my penis there, feeling so good, being squeezed tightly. Her big, white buttocks were being squeezed until they turned red in my hands, so beautiful. I couldn't take it anymore. My mother was softly calling my name, her vagina was so tight, I wanted to ejaculate inside her vagina!
So I ejaculated, calling out "Mom," and ejaculated wantonly, ejaculating inside my mother's vagina!
I opened my eyes and realized that I really had ejaculated, still in the position I was in before falling asleep. I was really kneading my mother's buttocks, but my mother was wearing underwear. I didn't ejaculate inside her vagina, but between her thighs. I woke up while I was ejaculating, and I continued to ejaculate as I thrust my penis.
My mother was clearly awakened by me. She arched her back, her legs clamping tightly around my penis until I stopped ejaculating. My left hand was still gripping her left buttock.
"Ah..." I let out a long, soft moan.
My mother turned away, not cleaning up my mess, letting it flow. She hugged me and said, "This isn't good. I don't want to leave you, but you have to learn to control yourself, okay?" I could feel the inner conflict and pain in my mother's voice. Her tears streamed down my face, making my heart ache.
"Mom, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to. I had another wet dream." "It's okay, go to sleep, go to sleep, don't think about it. Also, don't let your dad know..." My father was already very resistant to my mother spending time with me once a month. After all, I was in middle school, and it was my mother who insisted on her promise. My father couldn't persuade her otherwise. My mother also promised my father that she would communicate with me more and try to change my Oedipus complex.
I knew that at that time, my mother only had maternal love for me, and this situation was definitely not her intention. She was at a loss, helpless, and in pain. And I was also in pain and helpless; I didn't want to see my mother suffer. I hated myself for losing control, but I truly couldn't control myself; my love for my mother grew stronger.
I couldn't give up my monthly "privilege," which was my emotional support, but I didn't want to put my mother in a difficult position.
So, in the days that followed, I tried to minimize the time I spent touching my mother's breasts and tried to avoid my erect penis touching her. My mother noticed the change in me and was very pleased.
I secretly resolved to gradually overcome my Oedipus complex and restore harmony to my family. When I couldn't pull myself out of it, I would desperately run, play ball, and study to distract myself. I tried my best not to masturbate, because when I did, my mind was filled with thoughts of my mother.
But some things truly are predestined; my mother and I were destined to experience hardship and be entangled for life.
[The End]

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