[The Little Things Between the Daughter-in-Law and the Old Man] [Author: Unknown]

Author : Unknown Word Count
: 6554

********** ... It's hot in the summer, so I dress simply at home and didn't feel uncomfortable with my father-in-law around. When my husband wasn't home, I noticed that my father-in-law sometimes looked at me strangely. In the past, my father-in-law and I were very casual with each other, joking and playing around. Suddenly, his gaze made my heart clench. One night, I woke up to a rustling sound coming from the living room. I went out to check and saw my father-in-law masturbating, naked from the waist down. A sex scene was playing on TV. My father-in-law froze when he saw me. Then he grabbed his clothes and ran into the bedroom. The next morning, I made breakfast as usual and called my father-in-law. He knocked on the door and wouldn't come out. I ate a little quickly and took the children to school. On the way, I thought about how we had neglected my father-in-law. We thought that having food, drink, and family affection was enough. No wonder he was so talkative and excited when we talked about other people finding partners. When I got home that evening, my father-in-law was still in the bedroom, knocking on the door. My husband wasn't home, and I didn't know what to do. I made myself a bowl of instant noodles with the kids. The kids fell asleep. I tried to coax my father-in-law out of his door, but he wouldn't come out. In the middle of the night, I heard the door open, and I rushed out. When I saw him, I was stunned. He looked ashamed and had aged considerably. I pretended nothing was wrong and busied myself getting him food. No matter what I said, he remained silent. Before going to bed, he said he wanted to go back to his hometown. I panicked. The house in his hometown was already rented out, and besides, with my husband gone, how could I explain it to him? Could I say I caught his father masturbating? I said, "No, no." He didn't insist anymore. From then on, he spoke very little. I thought that was the end of it. Two weeks later, I came home from work and couldn't find my father-in-law or the kids. I rushed to the school. School had long since let out, and only the child was standing at the gate waiting for his grandfather. The old man was nowhere to be seen. When I got home, he was still nowhere to be found. I went to his bedroom to check. He was lying on the bed, dressed neatly, with his eyes closed. Then I noticed an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table. I didn't even bother to check if he was still breathing; I burst into tears. Between sobs, I called a neighbor to help take him to the hospital. He was taken to the emergency room, and I felt completely exhausted, my mind blank. I don't know how much time passed, but the doctor came out and said, "He's out of danger." Then he added, "You unfilial children!" As he was wheeled out, I rushed to him and cried again. The doctor said, "He needs to stay for observation for two more days." When he woke up, he said, "I'm sorry." I took leave from work and stayed by his side constantly, taking care of him, telling him jokes to cheer him up. After he was discharged and we got home, I let him rest in bed. After all, age catches up with everyone, and after all that, he was still very weak. I dared not tell my husband any of this. How could I explain it? How could I possibly explain it clearly? He might think I was abusing his father. I could only carefully tend to the old man, hoping he wouldn't… At night, I would sit by his bedside, watching him sleep peacefully, thinking about how bitter and lonely he must be. Tears streamed down my face. When the old man woke up and saw me crying, he panicked. I don't know what came over me, but I grabbed his hand and whispered, "Let me see, okay?" Before he could react, I reached my other hand down to his penis, which was covered by the blanket. It was limp and pitiful under his underwear. The old man looked embarrassed and didn't know what to do. I gently stroked it. Under my touch, his penis slowly became sensitive and hardened. The old man closed his eyes, letting me do as I pleased. I think he still longed for it. But his penis wasn't very hard; it was just barely erect. However, I could tell he was enjoying being touched. I whispered to him again, "Shall I help you ejaculate?" The old man shook his head. I didn't know if he didn't want to, or if there was simply nothing to come out. He probably couldn't. Old age is old age, there's nothing you can do about it. I thought, what can that old scientist do with his 28-year-old wife? He can only look, touch, and satisfy his cravings, I suppose. The old man started breathing heavily as I touched him. I thought for a moment, then decided to go all out, and grabbed the old man's hand from under his pajamas and placed it on my breast. The old man tensed up for a moment. His hand froze. I said, "It's okay, feel it." The old man's hand moved.

I was still worried about the old man's suicidal thoughts, so I said some comforting words to him.

He seemed much more at ease after hearing this.

Seeing him in a better mood, I finally felt relieved.

I teased him, saying, "How about I give you some relief?"

I pointed to my crotch. "

This is your son's territory, you know."

The old man waved his hands repeatedly, "No, no, no.

" Ha, ha, that "no" was a perfect choice.

To be honest, after the old man touched my breasts, my vulva became a little wet.

From then on, every few days, after the children were asleep, I would talk to the old man, and sometimes I would touch his
penis.

One night, the old man was taking a bath, and I said to him, "Wash yourself clean."

The old man lay down on the bed, and I got in.

I touched his penis and then put it in my mouth.

I asked the old man, "Does it feel good?"

The old man: "Mmm."

After sucking for a while, the old man actually ejaculated, but only a little bit.

I wiped away that little bit of semen. I said to the old man, "Find a companion."

The old man paused for a moment and said, "Never mind. It's too much trouble."

Then he added, "It's fine this way."

I didn't know if he meant that I was good to him, or that living with us was good.

If he meant that I was good to him, what would happen when my husband came home? Should

I tell him, or not?

I thought I absolutely couldn't tell him.

One day, it was very late, and

I was watching TV with the old man. He looked at me, hesitant to speak.

I said, "What's wrong?" He

stammered, "I want... I want to see you."

See me? Oh, I understood what he wanted to see.

I thought about it, and it didn't matter, so I let him see.

I pulled him into his bedroom.

I took off my nightgown and underwear, leaving him completely naked.

The old man blushed, wanting to say something, but didn't.

I lifted my leg and said to him, "Want to touch?"

He nodded.

I said, "Then touch."

I noticed his hands were trembling.

As I touched him, he squatted down and leaned in to lick me.

A warm current spread from my lower body upwards, making me thirsty.

But there was nothing I could do. I

could only hold my breath.

The old man continued.

He looked, licked, and played like a child.

He sat on the bed, watching me grin foolishly.

I felt embarrassed and said to him, "Satisfied now? Wait until your son comes back and settles the score with you."

The old man froze.

I thought, "Oh no, what if something else happens again?"

I quickly said, "I was just kidding. How could I tell your son about this? I won't. "

The old man smiled sheepishly.

He said, "Sigh, this old codger of mine."

It's been more than half a year since my husband left.

We often talk on the phone, and I only tell him everything is fine at home, to put his mind at ease.

But when I'm alone, I can't help but feel uneasy: This isn't right, this is immoral, this
is letting my husband down.

But when I come home and see the old man happy, and the children happy too,

I stop thinking about it so much.

I think, as long as I take good care of this family, there's nothing wrong with letting my husband down.

Besides, my husband's territory, the old man ultimately didn't invade it.

But if the old man wanted to invade, would I refuse? I

don't know.

After all, the old man is a man, and I'm a woman, a woman who longs for affection when her husband isn't around.

Sometimes I touch the old man, or the old man touches me.

I still feel something, even have an urge.

But that's all.

I teased the old man, saying, "Your dick can't do anything."

The old man was unconvinced.

Because of writing this post, I suddenly realized that I've neglected the old man for a while.

The company is restructuring, requiring a lot of fake numbers and reports, so I'm working overtime every day.

The children are all being taken care of by the old man.

After putting the children to sleep, I watched TV with the old man.

I sat down next to the old man and said, "Come on, let me touch you."

The old man laughed.

I said again, "If that time I took sleeping pills had passed, I wouldn't have felt so comfortable, right?"

The old man immediately retorted, "If I hadn't taken sleeping pills, I wouldn't have felt so comfortable either."

That's true.

The old man said again, "I'm so embarrassed to have you see me like this! Besides, there's no point in living anymore."

I said, "Is it interesting now?

" The old man chuckled.

I said, "Live well, live to be a hundred, and I'll definitely reward you, okay?"

Then I whispered, "Just don't let your son know."

I wasn't lying to the old man; I really meant it.

I'll have him wear a condom, just like one of those plastic things you buy online for masturbation.

My husband often says, "Having elders in the family is a treasure."

We can have three generations under one roof; when the old man is a hundred, it'll be four generations. I'm willing, I'm happy.

My husband will definitely be happy too.

The old man was very happy to hear that.

His little penis seemed a bit harder than before.

I said, "Let it flow, okay?"

The old man nodded vigorously.

I had the old man lie on the sofa, squatted beside him, and kept stroking him with my hand.

The old man closed his eyes, enjoying it.

Looking at him, I felt like a child, and I also felt ridiculous.

After all that, the old man did flow, but only a little bit.

Grandpa went to sleep.

I'm sitting here posting again.

I don't know why, but I miss my husband a little, and I'm wet down there.

I should have let Grandpa touch me earlier, haha.

I mentioned finding him a prostitute before, after he was discharged from the hospital.

Unexpectedly, his face changed as soon as he heard that, and he kept saying, "No, no."

Has Grandpa had some experience with this before, some trouble? I'm suspicious, but I don't want to ask too much.

We've lived together for so many years, and I don't seem to have found any clues about this.

I've been intentionally browsing media reports about the living conditions of single elderly people—their emotional loneliness, their physical
discomfort, and so on.

Remarriage is one option, but it's fraught with conflict and disputes; truly happy and harmonious marriages are extremely rare.

Besides, my father-in-law isn't willing either.

The media only appeals to society to pay more attention to them.

How can they really show concern?

Sometimes I feel this can't go on forever, but what can I do?

I received a call from my husband at noon; he was rushing to catch the last flight back tonight, both happy and a little anxious.

I called my father-in-law to prepare him mentally and offered some comforting words, telling him not to worry.

Right now, all I pray for is peace—peace for my parents, children, and the whole family.

The children are asleep, my husband is asleep, and I guess my father-in-law is asleep too.

But I can't sleep.

I can't help but write a few more words.

Whether it's criticism or praise, it doesn't matter.

Writing it down makes me feel a little lighter.

When I got home from work, I found my father-in-law was still quite tense.

I quickly put the children to sleep and helped him calm down.

He started talking about the past: the foolishness of his youth, and his longing for his mother.

She sighed repeatedly: "I wronged my husband when I was young, and I'm wronged my son and daughter-in-law now that I'm old.

" She cursed herself for being an "old coward."

I married into this family, and my mother-in-law is still alive. The love between the elderly couple touched me deeply. My husband
has insisted on ; I think he must have some affection for his mother.

I comforted him like a child. "

It's alright, it's alright," I repeated.

I was worried he might do something foolish again, or become ill from staying home all the time.

My husband came home, and the whole family was happy.

The children ran around holding the gifts their father brought back. My husband

seemed a little awkward, but it wasn't obvious. He volunteered to prepare a late-night snack. I usually
don't let him cook, no matter how busy I am.

My husband talked about his life in Shenzhen, occasionally asking about things at home. He kept talking non-stop.

I noticed my husband was darker and thinner, but in good spirits.

During a break, my husband hugged me and said, "You've worked so hard, wife."

Tears welled up in my eyes.

My heart was in turmoil; what could I say?

I silently kissed him, my heart aching with unbearable sorrow.

I wondered if my husband would blame me if he knew.

Of course, he didn't care. We hadn't seen each other for over six months; his tears were tears of joy, and anything more was
superfluous . He

quickly stripped me naked…

His penetration made me feel secure.

This was the longest separation we'd had in our many years of marriage.

It felt like a honeymoon.

My husband did it twice, then fell asleep, his snores rising and falling.

I wondered how my father-in-law was doing.

I went to his bedroom under the pretense of going to the bathroom.

Thankfully, he was sleeping soundly.

Before my husband came in, I tried to persuade my father-in-law,

saying, "We just won't do

that anymore." Could we really not?

My husband had to leave for Shenzhen tomorrow.

What should I do?

I believed there would be no further relationship with my father-in-law.

I wouldn't.

My father-in-law wouldn't either.

What about the rest?

Let nature take its course. It

's all fate.

I admit I'm not smart, even a little stupid. My husband sometimes jokes that I'm "big-breasted and brainless."

But what about smart women?

The smart women around me all have harder lives than me.

I only finished third grade. My husband forced me to read after we got married, and I gradually developed a liking for it.

That's why I write slowly, please forgive me, friends.

My husband is a graduate student.

I used to ask him why he didn't marry a woman with a similar level of education.

He said, "I like women who are uneducated."

As a result, his uneducated wife almost cheated on him.

Sigh, uneducated is uneducated.

A colleague of mine has a wife who is a university professor, and she absolutely forbids his family from entering the house.

One year before the Lunar New Year, his parents came to visit him with bags full of chickens and fish, but the university professor
blocked the door , refusing to let them in.

The two old people put down their things and went home crying.

If I had acted like that university professor, none of this would have happened.

I hate myself.

My husband is calling me.

Maybe I'm having a sudden inspiration. I want to.

Marrying my husband, at least for now, I'm happy. What about the future? Who cares about the future?

Uneducated people are protected by God, right?

Gotta go.

Back to the old man's story.

The hot water supply in our neighborhood has been cut off for the past few days, so we can't take showers, which is very uncomfortable.

The old man is very clean and impatient.

I asked the property management, and they said it would be a few more days.

I decided to take my father to the Bihai Lantian Bathing Center.

My husband often takes him there in the dead of winter.

My father loves taking baths.

But he has high blood pressure and a weak heart.

When we arrived at the bathing center, I wanted to ask someone to take care of him.

Then I saw they had a VIP couples' room.

So I took one.

The attendant led the way, chuckling with her head down.

I tapped her on the head: "What are you laughing at?"

I laughed too.

It was a suite. In the center of the inner room was a large round bathtub with many showerheads of various sizes.

There were two massage beds in the outer room.

I asked the attendant to fill the tub and said to my father, "You go first, I'll watch some TV."

My father told me to go first.

I said, "Go ahead, you can have a massage afterwards."

My father took off his clothes, leaving him in his shorts and vest.

I gave him a large bath towel and said, "You're all off, aren't you embarrassed?"

My father was a little hesitant.

I helped the old man wrap himself in a towel, then helped him in and tested the water temperature.

I said, "Call me if you feel uncomfortable."

He soaked for about half an hour.

When he came out, he seemed

to be in good spirits. I called a female masseuse to give him a massage.

On the way, the old man told me that his husband had brought him here, and he had requested a male masseuse for his massage, but they called a female masseuse,
saying his bones were old and needed a gentler touch.

His husband prefers a stronger touch.

I don't like taking baths.

I sat in the bathtub taking a shower, turning on all the showerheads.

There was even music.

Opposite the bathtub was a large mirror, probably to add some romance for couples bathing together.

What a clever business idea!

I looked at myself in the mirror while showering.

My husband looked.

My father-in-law looked too.

I don't think I've ever looked at myself like that before.

Although I'm not a young girl anymore,

I'm fuller and more mature than when I was a girl.

Especially my breasts.

I haven't breastfed, but they're still very firm.

I remembered my husband saying I was "big-breasted and brainless."

Then I thought about my relationship with my father-in-law.

I couldn't help but slap my head. Indeed, "brainless," haha.

I'm very confident in my figure.

But then I think, if I were bloated or skinny, it would be embarrassing to be seen.

I'd rather avoid my father-in-law's gaze and get scolded less.

After showering, my father-in-law's program was almost over.

The waiter was helping him stretch.

I lay on another bed, drinking tea and watching TV.

After the waiter left, I said to my father-in-law: "Rest for a while."

The old man continued lying down, saying, "That's so comfortable."

We chatted casually.

The conversation turned to a deputy general manager at the company arranging prostitutes for his father.

The deputy general manager's father was celebrating his 70th birthday with a lavish banquet at a hotel.

After the festivities, the deputy general manager saw off his relatives, friends, siblings, and his mother,

leaving only the birthday celebrant.

He said, "Have some tea to sober up."

After everyone left, the deputy general manager took the birthday celebrant upstairs to a reserved VIP room.

He said, "Dad has worked hard all his life; let your son show some filial piety..."

When the birthday celebrant understood what his son meant by filial piety, he repeatedly said, "No, no!

What if your mother finds out?!"

The deputy general manager said, "How could my mother possibly know?!"

The birthday celebrant thought about it and realized he was right.

...

At this point, I chuckled and said to the old man, "How about I show you some filial piety too?"

The old man said somewhat embarrassedly, "Never mind, never mind."

He added, "My thing can't do anything."

I said, "You really don't want to?"

The old man said, "It's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't."

I said, "But it's still okay, isn't it? Let me see. " I

lifted the towel wrapped around the old man and saw that his penis was really limp, so pitiful.

I tugged at it a couple of times, but it was still limp.

I looked at the old man, and he also looked helpless.

After a while, I casually took off the towel and threw it on the bed.

I walked around naked.

I helped the old man pick up his change of clothes and let him change.

When the old man wasn't paying attention, I glanced at his

penis. It was still drooping listlessly.

I wanted to laugh, but I was afraid of hurting the old man's pride, so I held back.

I helped the old man get dressed and came out without saying a word.

At the cashier, I overheard two waiters chatting, saying that several prostitutes had quit and gone to trade stocks.

They said that trading stocks was more profitable than being a prostitute, ha, ha…

I've been thinking about the old man these past few days.

It's unlikely to be a physiological or functional problem; it must be because of too much psychological pressure.

Constantly thinking about how he's wronged his son and daughter-in-law, how he's acted against morality and common sense—how could he not have a relapse?

It's even a kind of psychological suggestion.

Fragile, humans are truly fragile.

Especially someone like the old man with a narrow and monotonous social circle, it's easy to get stuck in a rut.

Unlike me, always busy, so busy I'm almost oblivious.

Sometimes a bad feeling flashes through my mind, and I just wave it away.

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[The Little Things Between the Daughter-in-Law and the Old Man] [Author: Unknown]

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