Make Mom drink a penalty drink (1)

"Get lost! Why can't you wait for me to climax together? Just be more patient! We've been together for years, and you still don't know how to make me happy. My ex-husbands..."

Hearing my mother's roar, I quickly retreated to my bedroom. She and my father had a weekly lovemaking day, and after each time, she would rush to the bathroom to shower. I didn't want to be caught.

Since I was thirteen, I'd heard this conversation a thousand times. Five years had passed, and I kept spying on them, sighing that they had never truly made love. Every Friday night, at ten o'clock, they would go into the room hand in hand, hoping to reach climax together this time.

My father was a factory worker, a loving family man, but unfortunately, he completely failed at being a good lover. His best performance was ninety seconds; premature ejaculation was his nightmare, the reason my mother would scold him. To help him last longer, my mother always tried everything, but all she got in return was unsatisfaction and exhaustion

. So, as a result of long-term disappointment, nagging my father became a habit.

However, while my father felt embarrassed by being scolded, I, peeping from outside the room, found satisfaction. Watching my mother undress, seeing her legs spread wide for my father, the visual stimulation was self-evident. In fact, since entering puberty, my mother has been the object of my sexual fantasies. I often masturbate before bed, imagining her moans and reliving the image of her vigorously shaking her hips trying to arouse my father.

At forty-one, she not only retained her charm, but her beauty rivaled that of a young model. Her hair was a striking gold, her breasts full and rounded, a 36C, and at approximately 170 centimeters tall, her legs were slender and long. She put a lot of effort into skincare, applying lotion daily, resulting in skin that remained fair and rosy like porcelain.

I, nineteen, a university student on summer vacation, with a handsome appearance—the kind of person who would be a plus when it comes to picking up girls. And of course, I couldn't waste my freshman year, so I changed girls like clothes, dating a different girl every week. However, I still have sexual fantasies, and the object of those fantasies is still my mother. The reason is simple: she is the truly perfect woman in my heart.

My parents' arguments continued, the topic remaining about their sexual dissatisfaction. Just as I was getting annoyed, there was a sudden silence. It turned out that my father had stormed off to prepare things for his business trip. He was going away for a week, departing tomorrow morning, which meant he would miss my cousin's wedding tomorrow night. My mother disliked attending family gatherings alone, so my father insisted that I go with her. This suggestion was exactly what I wanted; I almost cheered.

My mother and I are very close, but she would never guess that I am actually very sexually interested in her. I guess if she knew about my fantasies, given her hysterical nature, she'd probably be so angry she'd have a stomach hemorrhage. After masturbating, I felt sleepy, looking forward to attending the wedding banquet with my mom the next night, and I drifted off to sleep.

Saturday, a rare beautiful summer day, cloudless yet with a gentle breeze. Dad went to the airport early in the morning, while Mom went to the beauty salon to get her hair and makeup done. I, on the other hand, soaked in the bathtub, imagining dancing with Mom. Around three o'clock, she finally came home. After showering, I went downstairs and met her getting ready. At four-thirty, everything was finally ready. I was impeccably dressed in a suit, while she wore a knee-length black dress with a U-neck that revealed most of her ample breasts, her deep cleavage incredibly alluring. Her skin was as white as snow, a perfect match for the black dress.

She also wore seductive black suspender stockings and bright red high heels, making her appear even more striking and tall. The dress accentuated her flawless curves.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, completely oblivious to the strange look in my eyes.

"No, no. You just look absolutely stunning in this!"

"I dressed up really carefully. It's a pity your dad can't see. I bought this outfit for him, I just hope... oh well, never mind."

Of course, I knew she dressed up to impress her dad, and I knew her disappointment stemmed from the lack of anyone around to admire her. The opportunity was fleeting, and tonight was the last. I had to take some action to improve my relationship with my mom.

On the way to the wedding venue, sitting in the driver's seat, I kept stealing glances at my mom's legs. I really wanted to take advantage of her focused driving to fondle her beautiful legs. And so, for the entire thirty-minute drive, I battled my wicked desires.

Having just finished my first year of university, I was still treated like a child by my relatives. When we arrived, I noticed that almost everyone, including my father's brothers, was secretly glancing at my mother.

We dined with some familiar relatives; the food was rather ordinary. However, the quality of the food wasn't the point; all I could think about was how to get my mother to comply. I wondered if I could invite her to dance or take a walk. I refused to believe these methods would be ineffective. I needed absolute confidence in myself; only confidence could generate power, influence others, and give me a chance to build a relationship with my mother that was completely different from before.

At nine o'clock, the band started playing, and I invited my mother to dance a few songs. After four dances, we were both drenched in sweat. On the way back to our seats, I gently placed my hand on her waist, and as we passed the bar, I asked her if she wanted a drink. She asked for a glass of whiskey, and I prepared two. The heat and the thirst after dancing meant my mother finished hers in just a few sips.

Seeing her drink so heartily, I immediately handed her another glass and asked her to dance a few more times. At ten o'clock, the lights dimmed, and finally, the first slow song of the night began. I held her hand tightly, lest someone suddenly appear and take her away. All the men in the room were staring at my mother's beautiful legs, their eyes filled with lust. I thought that given the chance, they would definitely pounce on my mother and knock her to the ground. Palm to palm, gently supporting her waist, face to face, the distance between us was only a few dozen centimeters.

While dancing, we chatted and laughed about the changes in relatives we hadn't seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the alcohol starting to take effect, but she seemed very happy, laughing loudly from time to time. Inadvertently, I caught a whiff of her alluring perfume and felt her warmth as our bodies brushed against each other.

The first song ended, and the second was about to begin.

"Let's go back and rest for a bit," she said.

Not wanting to miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I thought now was the perfect time. "Mom, no! I rarely get a chance to dance with such a stunningly beautiful woman!" I blurted out, suddenly realizing my heart was pounding terribly.

She gave me a questioning look, then laughed, "Save those words for your girlfriend."

Seeing her about to leave, I immediately grabbed her. "Mom, please, just finish this one,"

she reluctantly agreed. We resumed our previous dance pose, the only difference being that this time, I placed both hands on her waist.

She awkwardly put her hands on my shoulders, constantly trying to widen the distance between us. Of course, I wouldn't let her succeed. As the music continued, I slowly moved closer to her. Without a word, she turned her head away, refusing to meet my gaze. When we were only a few centimeters apart, I said gently, "Mom, it's so nice to dance with you."

She didn't respond, just continued joking about her uncle's cheap clothes, completely ignoring me. That was fine; it saved her from noticing the bulge in my crotch. Besides, I could take advantage of her distraction to hug her. I took a deep breath and strode forward, colliding head-on with her, my crotch hitting her body.

Miscalculation! I shouldn't have let my penis touch my mother's lower abdomen directly.

My mother suddenly shoved me away, yelling, "What the hell are you doing? You pervert! I'm your mother, not a prostitute. Don't try to take advantage of me in such a low way. David, now go back to your seat and sit properly, and don't let anyone find out what you've done!"

I felt the earth shake violently, and I wished I could dig a hole and hide. The worst had finally happened; my dream was shattered!

For the rest of the time, I stayed far away from my mother. After the wedding banquet, I made an excuse to have my uncle drive me home.

Lying in bed, my thoughts were in turmoil. I thought about her feeling, her scent, her legs. Then, the image changed; her appearance suddenly became terrifying, transforming from a kind mother into a despicable prostitute who had humiliated me. Damn it, the thought filled me with rage. I was eighteen, but she treated me like an eight! No matter what, I had to get my revenge.

The call for revenge sounded; I would fuck her hard and show her who was in charge!

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Make Mom drink a penalty drink (1)

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