Classic Life

My father and mother's marriage was a typical product of the "class background problem" in the late 1960s. Because of
this, my maternal grandfather was persecuted, slandered as a "traitor," and sentenced to 20 years in prison. My grandmother passed away early, and relatives
avoided my mother like the plague; no one dared to take care of her. My father seized the opportunity, deceiving my mother by saying she could save
my grandfather . With no one to rely on, my mother could only rely on my father, a "proletarian working-class" rebel leader, and thus
she gave herself to him.

My mother possessed almost all the characteristics of a "delicate and charming girl from a Jiangnan family." My maternal grandfather's family was a scholarly
family, and my mother was deeply influenced by them, becoming knowledgeable and reasonable .
My maternal grandmother, who was known as the most beautiful woman in the area at the time, endowed my mother with petite beauty. My mother, however, surpassed her grandmother, inheriting all the excellent qualities of her grandparents without
exception . Even by today's standards, my mother was a rare beauty at the time
.

But fate often does not favor perfection, and her innate advantages were completely
ruined by cruel reality. My father was a typical northerner, the only son in three generations. He was physically imposing, hot-tempered, illiterate, and
a . My grandfather joined the People's Liberation Army and settled there after the city was liberated.

My father's fierceness was his capital for rebellion, a product of the specific era. By today's standards,
and not out of disrespect, my father was utterly useless.

My maternal grandparents' marriage was an older man-younger woman relationship; my mother was only three when my grandmother passed away,
and my grandfather's death occurred when my mother was not yet fourteen. My father was nearly thirty at the time, a minor
leader . The only thing I "admire" about him is his ability to legally marry such a young mother and
bring me into this world in less than a year.

Perhaps heaven was unkind, but my father's fertility did not surpass that of his ancestors. When I have memories
, I was probably three years old. I had already fully exploited the advantage of being the only son, and my crying skills were also
superb . In my memory, aside from occasionally failing to get my way with my father, I never failed with my mother.

After a few rejections from my father, I even learned to be even more demanding of my mother. I have no
memory of being punished by my mother; I must admit my childhood was a carefree and happy time.

According to my mother, I wasn't weaned until I was four, and I could only fall asleep while touching my mother's breast. My
domineering nature and my parents' doting affection meant even my father had to give in, allowing me to continue this habit.

By the time I was six, my father's power had waned, but his domineering position at home remained firmly established.
The family 's circumstances gradually worsened, and my father's violence intensified, yet he still showered me with affection. My father often
came home dejected, drank heavily, and then beat my mother. My mother endured it all, secretly weeping, but I didn't know how to
comfort her.

If my mother didn't meet my demands, I would find ways to make my father express my dissatisfaction. I remember that at the time,
we only had a living room and a bedroom. After beating my mother, my father would drag her into the bedroom without any attempt to hide it.

My mother's weakness and vulnerability made me a little tyrant.

My father's sex was simple and brutal. Every time he made love, there was no caressing or sweet talk. To make matters worse, he would turn on
the lights, ignoring the fact that I was lying next to them, my little hands still holding my mother's breasts. He would roughly force
my mother, who was beneath him, until her beautiful face was covered in tears. Her painful, suppressed cries grew louder and then softer until
she could barely make a sound before he was done.

My father's sexual prowess was undeniable. My mother was often ordered by him to spend the night naked, and she showed
almost no shame or attempt to avoid me. Although I was young, I would secretly watch with great interest.

When my father discovered this, he would occasionally scold me, but my mother's alluring body usually made him ignore me.

After he finished, my father would fall asleep immediately. Sometimes I would imitate him, lying naked on top of my mother's naked
and beautiful body, repeating his mechanical movements. At first, my mother would silently resist, whispering and
scolding me to scare me. But when my crying woke my father, his impatience would often lead him to berate her or resort to more violent
sexual punishment. My mother's doting love and fear of my father eventually made her give up resisting, allowing my father and I
to enjoy her alluring body in different ways. Perhaps her only form of resistance was her habit of waking up early.

After I started elementary school at age seven, for some reason, I became even more fascinated by my mother's soft, full, elastic
, and youthful breasts. I even resumed breastfeeding, though there was no milk, but
the feeling was wonderful. My bedtime routine was to suckle until I was tired, my little hands still lingering on her breasts before I could finally quiet down.

Sometimes my father's rough sexual behavior would wake me up, and I would imitate it later. But
for a young child, the dark, soft pubic hair on my mother's sacred and mysterious sanctuary, the birthplace of life, couldn't compare to the wonderful feeling of lying on
my mother's naked, soft body, sucking and caressing her breasts. Occasionally, I would touch my mother's
private parts, but I would give up because she would close her legs or change positions.

I had also been interested in my mother's body, but only in questions like how she
urinated .

That summer, when I had just turned twelve, I was already
used . But one night, my father drank a lot, and I drank some too. As soon as he got into bed, he began to
assault my mother. She resisted a little, but he quickly lost control. Enraged, he began a silent but fierce
struggle with her. To avoid their battle, I sat up.

My father knelt beside me, brutally spreading my mother's legs and almost lifting her lower body off
the bed . In an instant, my mother lost all ability to resist, helplessly closing her eyes, her body tense. Her smooth
skin, her graceful curves, and the painful yet helpless expression on her beautiful face left me speechless.

Between her long legs, my mother's mysterious exit
was displayed . My God! Under the bright light, I clearly witnessed my father's not-so-large but rather
ugly penis weakly thrusting between my mother's legs. My helpless mother gripped the sheets tightly,
while my father couldn't get his drooping penis inside her.

Suddenly, my father bent one of my mother's legs at the knee, pressing his own leg flat on the bed. With his free
hand, he forcefully spread my mother's genitals. I thought he had pried open her skin, revealing a pinkish crevice with a tightly closed vaginal wall
at the bottom!

Suddenly, one of my father's fingers plunged forcefully into her. My mother let out a painful, suppressed scream, her eyes widening in shock.
Her eyes were wide open, her muscles tense, and the veins on her slender arms, gripping the sheets, bulged. Large tears
rolled . Her father's triumphant roar, as if he had achieved immense satisfaction, increased the intensity of his fingers' movements. Her mother
shook her head in agony, crying out, "No!"

Finally, her father knelt, allowing his penis to enter her with the help of his hands. He continued for a while before
stopping, then fell asleep, leaving me stunned, staring at my mother curled up in pain.

Her expression, filled with pain and fear, made my erect penis feel blocked for the first time
. As soon as I entered the bathroom, I ejaculated! My body relaxed, my heart soared, my senses wavered,
I felt ecstatic , almost falling over. Later, as I returned to bed and drifted off to sleep, my mother was still sobbing intermittently.

Having already developed a rebellious attitude towards my mother's discipline, I harbored a fundamentally flawed and self-righteous belief
that this was the only way to truly retaliate against her. I desperately craved to see her look at me with that fearful gaze, and I
longed to relive the feeling of ejaculation. I mistakenly believed that my penis was the best weapon to instill fear in my mother.

My father, now of a certain age, was less sexually active, and his stamina had deteriorated due to years of excessive drinking and
womanizing, greatly reducing my "opportunities." But the events of that night were deeply etched into my memory.

Subconsciously, I was still somewhat afraid of my mother—perhaps a normal feeling a child has towards an adult—but deep down, I
began to desperately crave the opportunity to show my mother my "power," just as my father had, and to make her submit to me as she
had .

After several days of being lost and dejected, an opportunity led me to my doom.

It was a Saturday, and I was home on holiday. My mother was sick with a high fever and resting at home. At noon, my father came home
and began drinking. Ignoring my mother's high fever, he dragged her out of bed and ordered her to cook and drink. After my mother
, swaying unsteadily, prepared a few dishes and drinks, she went back to bed to rest. The hastily prepared dishes didn't taste very good, which
drew another round of scolding from my father.

My father wanted me to drink with him, and the wine was quickly finished. My drunken father then sent me to buy more wine. When I returned home with
the wine , my father was just coming out of the bedroom, pulling up his trousers. He continued drinking heavily until he was completely unconscious. I, also
dizzy, prepared to put the remaining wine back under the bed

in the bedroom. The mosquito net on the bed was already drawn and closed. I was curious and wanted to see how my mother was doing. When I lifted
the mosquito net , the scene on the bed made me instantly feel hot all over, filled with an inexplicable impulse!

A cold towel was haphazardly wrapped around my mother's head, covering her beautiful hair, forehead, and
eyes , revealing only her delicate nose and small mouth. Her mouth was half open, her bright red lips and snow-white
, even teeth shining brightly. There were tear stains on her pointed chin and beautiful face. The sheets were a bit disheveled; it seemed Mother
was powerless to resist. Her dress was pulled up to her neck, her underwear was thrown on the headboard, and only
a thin blanket covered her flat stomach. Her full, round breasts stood proudly erect, the bright red nipples glistening. Her long legs were still
spread wide, a pillow under her buttocks, fully revealing her secret place.

God, I saw her again! I placed the bottle on the corner of the bed, held my breath, and slowly approached her. Fine,
soft pubic hair formed a dense triangle, leading down to two tightly closed, full labia,
still bearing the marks of Father's violation.

Suddenly, I felt a pang of fear. I gently moved Mother's legs, but she didn't react. I
cautiously extended my right hand, my fingers touching her labia, but she still didn't react. I gently
pried open her labia with two fingers, revealing a slit, but Mother still didn't move. I then boldly increased the pressure. I parted her labia
completely, revealing a flat, pink, delicate slit. I finally
saw her again!

I didn't dare to be as savage as my father; I only used my index finger to slowly probe inside. My mother's vagina was so tight
that I found it difficult to go any further. I hesitated for a moment, then decided to use force. I nervously watched my mother, afraid she
would suddenly react, so much so that I didn't even realize my finger was completely inside her.

At that moment, I deeply felt my mother's tight, hot vagina gripping my finger. I slowly began to move my
finger in and out, but my mother didn't move. I couldn't control myself and suddenly used force. My mother let out a weak
moan, which stopped after a while. I felt a little disappointed, but also emboldened by the alcohol. I started to use a lot of force, but my mother's half-
open mouth only occasionally let out a few moans. I started to get angry, feeling an immediate need to release my pent-up desire.
My penis began to swell, reaching a length of 10 cm, longer than my finger!

I climbed onto the bed, mimicking my father's posture, kneeling between my mother's legs, grasping my penis, and
thrusting it straight into her vagina. I was so lucky! The head of my penis actually went in most of the way. I felt I had found the right spot, and
my body uncontrollably wanted to push deeper, so much so that I ended up pressing down on my mother. I recklessly
concentrated all my strength in my lower body, deeply and completely penetrating my mother's body. The force was so great that my
penis ached terribly.

My mother also let out a painful groan, but the tight, burning suction of her vagina drove me almost
mad. I thrust violently, my face just touching my mother's breasts. As if
guided by an evil force, I sucked hard on my mother's left nipple, while my right hand gripped her right breast and kneaded it desperately.
My mother began to let out painful, suppressed groans, her whole body tensing.

I saw large tears rolling down her beautiful face, which fueled my madness and
savagery . My penis thrust in and out of my mother's vagina, each time fully inside. Every thrust brought
an indescribable, exquisite, and stimulating sensation.

After about 200 thrusts, I finally succumbed to the intense stimulation and
ejaculated, my hot semen completely filling my mother's vagina. I couldn't help but make a sound, collapsing
onto my mother, utterly exhausted. Before I could even get up, my mother noticed something was wrong. She removed the towel
covering her eyes, and for a moment, our eyes met, and everything seemed to freeze! Finally,
my mother let out a deafening cry.

I had never heard my mother make such a terrifying sound, nor had I ever seen such a horrible and desperate
expression face, or such astonishing strength. She shoved me off, and I tumbled off
the bed with the bottle. The bottle shattered, and I landed squarely on the broken shards, bleeding profusely, and screaming in agony.

The commotion in the bedroom woke the father. He staggered into the bedroom and saw his mother, who was completely stunned.
My mother stood by the bed, her dress already on, her arms tightly wrapped around her chest, while I lay on the floor, bleeding and screaming. Without a word, I began to punch and
kick her. My mother, dazed and confused, swayed as my father beat her. Suddenly, an inexplicable urge
surged to stop him and protect my mother. I rushed over and hugged my father. He accidentally hit me
, and I began to retaliate violently. My father was furious, and I was furious too.

Young and weak, I was no match for him. My reckless beating caused my still-drunk father to beat me
mercilessly . I didn't know if the blood was from a cut from a bottle or from the beating.
Enraged, my father picked up a long bench and smashed it over my head. I was terrified and instinctively ducked, trying to block with my hands.
The bench hit me hard on the head, and everything went black. I lost consciousness...

When I awoke, the first thing I saw was my father, filled with guilt, and then I realized I was lying in my mother's
arms . I turned to look at my mother, but she looked away. I felt my mother's soft breasts beneath her thin dress
. It seemed that while I was unconscious, she had been holding me, not even having time to put on her underwear, and
was sobbing softly.

Perhaps it was because family scandals shouldn't be aired in public, or perhaps my mother was afraid my father would hurt me, or perhaps she couldn't convince others
of anything, or perhaps because she was somewhat unconscious and couldn't fully assess my actions, we
appeared to be at peace.

At bedtime, my mother still had to remain naked, allowing my father to exercise his brief,
lewd power . After my father finished and fell asleep, my mother remained awake. I pressed myself against her as usual, and for the first time, she
showed a look of extreme terror. Her breathing quickened, her hands tightly protecting her body, and her legs tightly intertwined
, giving me no chance. Because of what had happened at noon, I dared not be too unrestrained. I kissed my
mother and whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry, please forgive me." Although I was still on top of her, I was
behaving myself . Before I drifted off to sleep, my mother finally calmed down, and I vaguely saw two lines of tears
silently .

Perhaps out of guilt towards her, I changed my behavior, becoming a good boy and
studying . In the semester before the entrance exam, my grades, which were usually at the bottom of the class, suddenly
skyrocketed. My performance seemed to have moved my mother, and she resumed her meticulous care for me and allowed me
to continue sleeping on top of her.

The pressure of the entrance exam forced me to study late into the night, and I began to suffer from insomnia, which greatly worried my father. The week before the exam
, I was restless. Once, after my father finished his "homework" on my mother, I
restlessly pressed myself against her, trying to get off, unable to sleep. Finally, I had an uncontrollable need to release, and my mother
immediately noticed. I tried to spread her legs, and she silently resisted.

Our struggle gradually intensified, waking my father. I was so frightened that I quickly turned off my mother.
After cursing her for a while, my father fell asleep again. I continued, and my father was awakened again, then began to beat
and kick . After my father started snoring, I continued. My mother dared not resist violently anymore, letting me do as I pleased, but
without my cooperation, I struggled for a long time without being able to penetrate her, but I refused to give up.

Finally, as dawn approached, my mother succumbed to my perseverance, miraculously adjusting her position, and I entered her smoothly
. My mother frowned, her face showing pain and tension as she looked at my father. I dared not disturb
my father , moving gently and slowly. I could feel my mother's heart pounding, her breathing rapid, her tension palpable.

My mother's eyes remained fixed on my father's movements, perfectly cooperating to bring me to orgasm, ejaculating inside
her Unexpectedly, after releasing, I quickly fell peacefully asleep.

With my mother's cooperation, my insomnia disappeared, and I concentrated on my studies,
temporarily ceasing my assault on my mother.

When I entered a prestigious high school with top marks, the glory it brought to my family was beyond my wildest imagination
. The blessings from relatives and friends made my father extremely happy, and although my mother still avoided me, I noticed she
would secretly smile.

Once, my father hosted a banquet at a hotel to show off his success, and my mother specially wore her most beautiful
dress to the party. In the bedroom, I was once again stunned by my mother's natural beauty! My mother was
165 cm tall, slender yet full-figured, with long, flowing black hair, a delicate oval face,
and sculpted, flawless skin. The well-fitting dress accentuated her full breasts and long legs.

"Mom, I want you!" When I actually said those words to my mother, we both
froze . After a moment, my mother walked away without a word. I was deeply hurt, utterly dejected, and
listless. I told my father I didn't want to go. He flew into a rage and slapped me. My mother, terrified, quickly covered my head. My
father was about to vent his anger on my mother, so I reluctantly agreed and went back to my bedroom to lie on the bed , lost in thought
.

My father wanted to go to the hotel to make arrangements first, since my mother wasn't going to help him anyway. He ordered us to be at
the hotel , or else he'd be in trouble, and then he left. I lay on the bed, my mother looking at me with pleading eyes,
coaxing and begging me to leave quickly. I listlessly stayed in bed, looking pitiful. My mother got anxious
and tried to pull me up, but I resisted. In the struggle, I pulled her down onto the bed next to me. Suddenly, I
felt I had an opportunity and quickly pinned my mother down. My mother seemed to understand something, and angrily ignored
me as she walked away. I had no choice but to follow her out.

The celebration took place as scheduled, and the glory I brought made my status in the family seem to surpass my father's.

That night, my father was very drunk and unconscious in bed. I brazenly violated my mother, who helplessly
closed her eyes. My mother's tacit approval thrilled me. I immediately tried to take off her clothes, but she stopped
me. She silently pulled down her underwear, lifted her skirt to her waist, exposing her lower body. I quickly
pulled down my pants, took out my erect penis, and immediately pressed myself against her.

Still inexperienced, I couldn't find the right spot, and for the first time, my mother guided me with her delicate hands. Her
vagina was very dry, making penetration difficult, but I needed to get in immediately, so I exerted all my strength. As I
struggled to thrust inside her, she bit her lip, her face showing pained expression. I
continued thrusting without any mercy.

This time, I lasted a long time without ejaculating. My mother grew impatient, constantly urging me to finish quickly. I felt...
My mother's vagina began to contract rhythmically with her movements, and for the first time, she
lifted , bringing us even closer. I was incredibly excited, reaching another climax, pouring my life essence
into the warm womb that had nurtured me.

Perhaps it was my mother's favoritism, or perhaps it was the stimulation of hormones, but my body began to develop rapidly,
and my desires grew stronger. I often took advantage of my father's drunkenness to violate my mother. My strength was too much for her to resist, and she, fearing
my father's discovery, dared not fight back too fiercely, nor dared to make a sound. My experience allowed me
to succeed even when my mother was extremely uncooperative; I could even enter her from behind. Sometimes, after my father finished,
I would enter my mother before he fell asleep, leaving her to endure my brutal violation in terror and pain.

This excessive indulgence sometimes made it difficult for me to ejaculate, so I would leave my penis inside my mother and fall asleep, leaving her
to endure the entire night of fear.

My father began to notice the changes in my body and sent me to the living room to sleep in a separate bed. I
obeyed .

My mother's deliberate avoidance left me no opportunity. Fate played a cruel trick; my grandfather's exoneration unexpectedly brought our family
a considerable subsidy. To care for him, we moved into a three-bedroom apartment with him. We had originally
lived in my father's ancestral home; after moving a few pieces of furniture, we locked it up and said goodbye.

I had my own room, and my mother found a good job at the tax bureau thanks to my grandfather's exoneration.

However, my father, having lost his dominant position in the family, became addicted to gambling. Soon, money vanished like water. Cleverly, I
kept asking to pay various fees, secretly saving a considerable sum before the family's fortunes collapsed.

My parents' income couldn't satisfy my father's gambling addiction, and he accumulated huge gambling debts. I secretly took
a job as a porter to prepare for the worst. My decision was wise; my father was beaten by creditors, and my grandfather had to pay off his
gambling debts , but this left him with debts to relatives and friends. The strong physique I inherited from my father, combined with my
excellent porter work at the port, brought me a substantial income. My outstanding academic performance was the only consolation for the family.

Grandfather, finally unable to bear my father any longer, fell ill and was hospitalized. The exorbitant medical bills left my mother weeping
constantly , while my father gambled recklessly, completely ignoring Grandfather's illness. Grandfather needed surgery, requiring
a large sum of money, but the family had no savings. Grandfather's appreciation for me and his admirable
knowledge made me feel like I would die for him. I worked desperately, doing the work of three people on construction sites.
My coworkers admired me, but the hardship was unimaginable to most, and as a result, my grades
plummeted .

I finally saved enough money and secretly paid for Grandfather's surgery. He was saved, but I failed
all . My mother didn't understand where my money came from, and I didn't explain. My poor grades only fueled her
misunderstanding, leading to her agitated questioning. Her harsh tone infuriated me. Feeling that
I was being questioned for the first time for contributing to the family, my self-esteem was severely damaged. I shut myself in, refusing to see or
speak to anyone.

A coworker's hospitalization due to injury made my grandfather understand what I had done, and he specifically asked my mother to
thank me. When my mother faced me, both moved and ashamed, I was tempted again, but her resistance made me
lose any improper thoughts about her, and I began to become arrogant. Actually, I felt that the grievances I had suffered could
not be compensated by mere apologies and proactive advances; what I needed was my mother's complete... I
couldn't explain it , but I deliberately distanced myself from my mother.

After the new semester started, I often studied late into the night to catch up with my studies. Chinese was my least favorite subject;
I easily regained first place in all other subjects, but I barely passed Chinese. My mother sensed
my dissatisfaction with her and often begged for my forgiveness, but I remained arrogantly unmoved.

One night, I was racking my brains over an essay topic, and I fell
asleep . When I woke up, I found a beautiful notebook on my desk. Curious, I opened it and saw my mother
's elegant handwriting. But what excited me even more was the detailed analysis she had provided of my essays,
offering numerous exquisite classical Chinese poems and phrases, as well as brilliant descriptions from modern literature. I was deeply captivated, and
my writing flowed effortlessly.

My essay won a national award, giving me a special affection for that notebook. From then on, whenever I
needed to solve a problem, I would write it down in the notebook at night, and the answer would be there when I got home from school the next day—
of course , there were also hints and guidance.

This special exchange with my mother benefited me immensely; my Chinese language skills became my
greatest strength. Thus, as the high school entrance exam approached, our notebook exchanges increased rather than decreased. I rarely spoke to my mother, but
I felt I had hurt her. Unconsciously, I felt filled with respect and gratitude for her, and my wicked desires
subsided.

When my mother wished me success in the high school entrance exam in her notebook, I confidently and playfully replied that it was no problem, and
asked what the reward would be, but nothing came of it. I didn't care. After I entered a top high school with a record-breaking score
, my family's glory was unprecedented. That year, I had just turned fifteen, but I was already a grown-up of 165 cm,
with a basic understanding of ethics and a fear of surpassing others.

When I was organizing my materials, I discovered that my father had sold them all as waste paper. I was furious and had another fierce argument with
him . This time I won completely; my father didn't dare utter a sound, and even my grandfather and mother stood by
, not daring to breathe. When I rushed to the garbage dump to find that notebook, it had already been taken away. I
returned to my room dejectedly, but was surprised to find the notebook next to my pillow. I excitedly
kissed , carefully opened it, and relived the events of the past year.

When I reached the last page and saw the mischievous questions I had written about what rewards I would receive, my heart was filled with happiness.

I unconsciously continued flipping through the blank pages, feeling a pang of disappointment. When I reached
the last page, a line of neat handwriting caught my eye: "As you wish." I froze, because
the handwriting clearly indicated it had been written long ago. The feeling was indescribable; I only remember excitedly writing
below : "Thank you, Mom. Please forgive me?"

I put it back on my pillow and, feigning surprise, asked my mother, "Do you want to take the notebook back?" My mother
looked at me with a slightly surprised expression, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes revealing unease. I met her gaze with unwavering determination.
My mother finally gave in and nodded gently. I shouted excitedly,
even more excited than when I learned my grades. My mother looked uneasy and silently walked away.

Soon, due to tuition fees and my personal plans, I had to continue working hard to earn money. The high-
intensity meant that I would often fall asleep as soon as I got home after dinner.

I finally saved enough money. There were still more than two months left in the long three-month vacation. I used the excuse that my father was playing mahjong
at home and it was too noisy for me to concentrate on my studies, and asked to go back to my father's ancestral home, the old house
. They would just bring me food and a change of clothes every day. My father had no objection, and my grandfather supported me. My mother seemed to understand something.
She looked at me with unease and a little fear, pleading, but she didn't dare to object. And so the decision was made.

Returning to the old house, I felt like I was ruling my own world. To my surprise
, my mother didn't bring me food. Instead, my grandfather came. I was very uneasy. My grandfather was not in good health, so my father came instead. I was very disappointed,
but my insistence on not going home made my grandfather and father very happy and relieved.

Two weeks later, I grew increasingly anxious, anxiously awaiting what I longed for...

One night, a violent storm raged, with thunder and lightning. I gave up, standing in the rain, letting the downpour vent my
anger, which caused me to develop a fever and be bedridden. My father brought me food, but despite my fever, he was in a hurry to get home:
not to inform the family, but because he was worried about his mahjong game. No one came to see me that night, and the storm continued
.

When I heard a sound at the door, I was still in bed, confused. A moment later, when I opened my eyes, a
beautiful woman, her figure slender and radiant from the rain, stood before me. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her full breasts heaved, clearly
a result of her hurried journey. Her dress, soaked through, clung tightly to her slender and graceful body.
She held a hairpin in her hand, letting her hair fall freely, and a delicate hand touched my burning forehead.

Overwhelmed with grievance and emotion, tears welled up in my eyes. I struggled to sit up, hugged my mother tightly,
buried my face in her full, firm breasts, and cried my heart out until I calmed down. I
looked up and met my mother's tearful eyes. She comforted me, stroking my head, and I nestled in her warm embrace
for a while before drifting off to sleep again.

When I woke up, it was already evening. My mother had changed into another dress. Seeing that I was awake, she asked me with
concern . I nodded gently, indicating that I felt much better, and only then did she relax. She told me that
my grandfather and father had come, and that I had already received my injection. My grandfather and father were talking to the doctor when they came to visit
me. I stretched energetically, and the doctor proudly praised my father, but my grandfather was still
very and scolded my father for remaining silent. My grandfather ordered me to lie down and rest, telling my mother to stay and take care of me,
and then he and my father went home.

When I woke up again, it was already midnight. I gently called out, "Mom." My mother, who had changed into her bathrobe
, came from the living room to my bedside. Her beautiful hair was draped over her shoulders, and her alluring body was partially revealed, sparking my imagination. My
gaze was immediately fixed on her captivating figure. After a while, I asked stupidly, "Have I eaten?" My
mother chuckled sweetly.

Her pure and delicate face was as beautiful as a flower. I couldn't resist. I got up and pulled my unsuspecting
mother onto the bed, retaliating by pinning her hands down. My mother was startled and unable to move. I mischievously
kissed her on the lips. My mother was startled and desperately tried to dodge, and thus began our "kissing challenge"!

After I successfully pinned my mother's head down and kissed her, I didn't give up easily, to the point that both of us
were struggling to breathe. When I finally let go, we were both panting heavily. My mother covered her mouth with her hand, and I immediately began to unbutton
her pajamas. She stopped me, pleading, "Don't do this." I ignored her. Suddenly, she
hissed at me, saying, "Someone's here!" Terrified, I froze. She seized the opportunity to break free and ran out of
the bedroom.

I nervously went to the living room, but no one was there. I shouted for my grandfather and father, but
no one answered. My mother was gone too. I realized I'd been tricked, but I wasn't angry.

Then my mother came out of the kitchen, holding a glass of milk. I approached her with ill intent. She recoiled in
fear , repeatedly saying "No," but I forced her against the wall. I pressed my body against her.
She clutched the glass, desperately trying to pull away. I tried to take the glass, but she wouldn't let go. I picked
her and strode towards the bedroom. She closed her eyes, trembling, and began to cry.

After throwing her onto the bed, I didn't do anything, just quietly watched her. My mother opened her eyes,
pleading with me. I gently kissed her, and she didn't resist. I easily removed the cup, and she
hugged herself tightly, trembling, her eyes too heavy to open.

I stripped naked, knelt beside her, and pulled her into my arms. She trembled violently, but I didn't
violate her . Finally, she opened her eyes, and I deliberately showed her the numerous scars on my body, shocking her. These
scars were from hard labor, things I usually paid no attention to, but I never knew they would have such a profound impact on her.

She gently touched my scars, asking me with heartache, "Does it hurt?" I shook my head. She hugged me and
began to sob, and I hugged her back, letting her cry on my shoulder.

She weakly stopped crying, and I began to unbutton her pajamas. In a moment, she was left only in her underwear.
She clutched her underwear tightly, leaving me helpless unless I resorted to violence. I stopped,
looked at her with pleading eyes, and said, "Mom, didn't you promise me you'd do as I wished?" My mother started crying again. I
kept kissing her eyes and tears, stroking her smooth back.

Gradually, her crying turned into intermittent sobs, and her tense body softened. I
tried to take off her underwear, but she still wouldn't let go. I lowered my head and gently kissed the
little hand that was tightly holding onto her underwear, then kissed her ear and said, "Mom, have you forgiven me? I love you." Unexpectedly,
my mother hugged me tightly and burst into tears again. I could only keep comforting her.

Gradually, my mother calmed down in my arms. I then tried to take off her shorts. She only symbolically
blocked me for a moment, then cooperated by letting me hold her while I took off her underwear. I laid my mother flat on the bed and carefully
admired her flawless body: her firm breasts were even fuller, along with her
slender waist, flat stomach, sexy hips, and long legs. Especially her alabaster skin;
touching it made her feel like an exquisite work of art. I couldn't help but exclaim, "Mom, you're so beautiful!"
"Li!" My mother's beautiful face flushed crimson, making her even more alluring.

I was finally about to explode. I parted my mother's legs, pressed down on her body, and my 15-inch penis
eagerly sought entry. My mother sighed softly, parted her legs even wider, and raised her hips. My
penis immediately found the entrance. But my mother's vagina was still so tight. I eagerly lifted my lower body,
pressed against the vaginal opening, and pressed down hard. The large glans barely entered, and my mother let out a painful moan.

"Gently, okay?" my mother pleaded. I stopped and kissed my mother, repeatedly asking if she was in pain.
My mother nodded, but then hugged my waist tightly, biting her lip, resolutely signaling for me to continue.

I thrust in with all my might, and it was all the way in at once. My mother's eyes widened, her brows furrowed,
the veins on her slender neck became visible, a muffled groan escaped her throat, and tears welled up in her eyes. I dared not move, and gently
kissed my mother. My mother silently intertwined her tongue with mine. Unable to restrain myself, I began to thrust. My mother sucked on my
mouth tightly, clinging to my neck, desperately enduring the pain.

The pleasure in my lower body made me uncontrollably increase the force and rhythm, but my mother's vagina was too small and
still dry. My mother finally couldn't help but let out a loud groan. I didn't care about anything else,
desperately venting my pent-up resentment. My mother shook her head in pain, trying to push me off her. I held her waist,
each thrust almost pulling my penis out, then fully plunging in again. The extreme pleasure and my mother's pain made me almost
lose control.

After more than 20 minutes, I felt I was about to climax. I hugged my mother tightly, pressing myself against
her . My mother probably sensed that I was about to ejaculate and desperately raised her hips. In my all-out
thrusting, my mother's pain also reached its peak. When I finally collapsed on top of her, exhausted, my mother
was too weak to groan.

I kissed my mother tenderly and gratefully, and she responded enthusiastically, arousing my masculinity once more. We made love
again , and this lasted for nearly an hour. My mother was too exhausted to continue, letting me indulge in her
alluring body. Finally, I embraced her and drifted off to sleep, completely satisfied.

The next morning, I woke up early. My mother, exhausted from my nearly nightly revelry, was still fast
asleep, her face streaked with tears, like a pear blossom after the rain. I
kissed her tenderly, careful not to disturb her, and got up alone, full of energy, but suddenly felt ravenously hungry, so I went out to buy
breakfast.

When I returned home, she was already gone; she had gone to work. I was utterly disappointed. My father
came to visit and, seeing my listless state, asked if I was feeling better. On a whim, I suggested that my mother
come take care of me, and my father readily agreed. I dared not reveal my inner elation, and feigned returning to my bedroom
to rest. My father then left as well.

When my mother came home from work, we had a negotiation-like conversation. I wanted her to continue spending time with me, but she said, "
No. "

"Didn't you promise me?" I pleaded

. My mother said, "I only did this to encourage you, and I've fulfilled my promise. You should be content."

I begged her desperately, and she finally cried and begged me to let her go. I shouted in despair and anger, "Would
you rather endure my father's rudeness than spend time with me?"

My mother looked at me helplessly and pleaded that she would stay if I didn't violate her again. I reluctantly
agreed.

My mother moved in with me, but I quickly let my desires run wild. My mother constantly
resisted , making it difficult for me to succeed, but this only intensified the stimulation. My battlefield quickly

expanded from the bed to the kitchen, living room, bathroom...

I spent a whole month happily with my mother, making love hundreds
of times . But my grandfather's health gradually weakened, forcing me to let my mother leave. From then on, for the remaining
month or so, my mother never came again. I had no choice but to suppress my desires and focus on my studies.

Before the start of the semester, I moved back home and discovered a shocking event—my mother was pregnant
!

My father had been the only son in three generations, and according to policy, he could have another child. He was incredibly proud of this
miracle . My grandfather, considering my father's situation, had always hoped my mother would have another child, but
she had expressed her unwillingness, and my father and grandfather firmly disagreed.

That evening, while I was doing my homework, my mother quietly entered my room and communicated with me through her pen. She asked me to find a way to
persuade my father and grandfather to have an abortion. I was confused because I also wanted a younger brother or sister. My mother seemed to have
unspeakable difficulties, but she was evasive and unwilling to speak frankly, so she couldn't convince me.

I comforted my mother, saying I would take good care of her, and she hugged me and started crying. She told me that this
child was my child, and she was very scared. I was initially stunned, but seeing my mother's helpless expression,
I had an idea. I asked her, "Mom, are you willing to have my child? This is our child,
and no matter what, I will take care of him for the rest of my life."

With my constant comfort and reassurance, my mother finally stopped insisting on abortion. My mother's pregnancy temporarily
reformed my father, and my grandfather also started exercising for this unexpected grandson. We took meticulous care of
my mother . For the child's prenatal education, my grandfather and father went to the ancestral home to play mahjong, and my father only came back to visit occasionally
.

My mother, who appeared even more voluptuous and charming due to her pregnancy, was hard for me to resist. For some reason, my mother completely yielded to
me, allowing me to carefully violate her. Perhaps this was a treatment my father had never received, which made me extremely proud.

My mother's belly grew bigger day by day, and after ten months of pregnancy, she finally gave birth to a beautiful girl, much
to my father's disappointment. But this girl immediately became the center of attention for my grandfather, mother, and me. My mother's face radiated with
happy maternal love, making her even more attractive.

I secretly shared my mother's sweet breast milk with my younger sister, and began violating
her . My father, impatient with my sister's crying, often lost his temper, and my grandfather's smoking forced my sister to move to my
safe bedroom. I gave my bed to my mother and sister, sleeping on a cot myself, and often helped my hardworking mother
take care of my sister when she cried in the middle of the night. Of course, my mother, even more beautiful and alluring after childbirth, also tried her best to reward me, actively cooperating with
me, giving me unprecedented sexual satisfaction.

Imagine, when my mother and I made love next to my beautiful sister, my mother's tenderness was not only full of affection...
She possessed a human charm, but with an added touch of maternal tenderness. My father's needs were few; he would occasionally knock on the door in the middle of the night
to ask my mother to come and keep him company, then send her back afterward, often
stopping me with my sister's crying. My mother discovered my secret, but was grateful and, in turn, repaid me.

I loved my mother even more, and I consciously encouraged her to enjoy sex. Under my care,
my mother 's charm reached its peak. My mother and I often maintained the most intimate contact, happily watching
my sleeping sister beside us. My mother began to close her eyes and enjoy our sex, reaching orgasm more frequently,
giving me the illusion that we were a happy family of three. When

my sister turned one, the happy days seemed to end. My grandfather's death forced me to move to his
room . My father seemed to regain his dominance, beginning to beat and abuse my mother again. But I was strong enough to protect
her. My father's outbursts often led my mother to run to my room in the middle of the night with my sister for refuge. The bruises on her body filled me with tenderness, and my mother became even more eager to seek comfort in our
lovemaking .

My mother completely severed ties with my father, and he was forced back to their old house by my mother and me. He
resolutely to visit, which ironically emboldened me.

Unexpectedly, my mother became pregnant again. When she told me the news, and that my sister was also my
daughter, and that I was the father this time, I was stunned. But upon reflection, it was inevitable,
because I knew my father hadn't visited my mother for over six months, let alone had sex with her.

I secretly accompanied my mother to her abortion, and she underwent sterilization surgery. We began
living . It wasn't until I met my beloved wife that my mother began to distance herself from me, and our relationship started to return to
normal.

[The End]

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