son taking over father's duties

page views:1 Publication date:2022-02-07

(son taking over father's duties)
In my childhood memories, my father and mother were the perfect couple.
My mother is almost ten years younger than my father. My father is a tall, handsome man with his own career. He is the kind of person who can support a family.
My mother is young and beautiful. She works outside the home and has her own place in the world. Her colleagues all say she's a very strong woman. Actually, at home, my mother is always gentle and virtuous, and she often acts coquettishly in front of my father (I've secretly observed this).
The most beautiful scene in my memory is when the sun is setting, my father and mother take me for a walk on the street. The man's broad shoulders, the woman's charming curves, and the lovely child are bathed in golden sunlight, attracting envious glances from passersby.
Until one day, it all ended. That day, devastating news arrived: Dad suffered a heart attack, collapsed, and never woke up again. Who could have imagined that such a strong man would leave so easily? I was only eight years old that year, not really understanding the meaning of death, only knowing how to cry, because I would never see my father again.
Surprisingly, the mother did not collapse. She remained calm in front of relatives and friends and went back to work without taking a break after the funeral.
Time flies, and ten years have passed in the blink of an eye.
I've grown into an eighteen-year-old boy, inheriting my father's broad shoulders and handsome face.
My mother is already forty years old. Perhaps it's because she's always on the go and busy with work, but although a few fine wrinkles have crept onto her still beautiful face, her figure is still so slender and slim, without any of the fat and aging that people her age have.
Looking back on these past ten years, my son and I have truly relied on each other for survival; outsiders simply cannot understand the joys and sorrows we have endured.
After my father passed away, he left behind a considerable sum of money in the bank, enough for my mother and me to live on. But my strong-willed mother continued to work tirelessly, supporting the family with her frail shoulders. She refused well-meaning friends' advice to remarry, saying that my mother and I didn't need anyone's financial help and could support ourselves. She had her own career and could take good care of me; she didn't want me to suffer any hardship, fearing I wouldn't be able to accept another father.
That's exactly right. I simply cannot accept another man in the family. In my heart, this family means my mother, me, and my deceased father; there is no other place for anyone else.
As I've grown older, I've realized how selfish I've been. A family needs both men and women to support it. It's so unfair to make my mother bear all the burdens and take care of me, who wasn't very obedient. It's such a waste for a beautiful woman like my mother.
Especially after I began to understand the relationship between men and women, I cherished my mother even more. For the past ten years, how many lonely nights did a woman spend alone?
My mother works outside the home and is very capable, no less so than men, and has rejected many suitors. But I know that late at night, I've seen her sitting alone by the window, gazing out for a long time.
She was lonely, and she needed comfort, a broad shoulder to lean on. She endured her solitude entirely for me, her beloved son.
Whenever I think of these things, a wave of tenderness washes over me. I know I love my mother, not just as a mother, but also as a woman.
Gradually, my desire grew stronger and stronger. I wanted to hold my mother in my arms and use my arms to give her slender body a strong support. I wanted to be the man of this family and make sure the woman in this family was no longer lonely.
From then on, the atmosphere at home underwent a subtle change. I began to take the initiative to share housework, taking on all the things that men should do.
I want my mother to feel my strength and my presence, not only as her son, but also as the only man in the family.
I would accompany my mother shopping, encouraging her to buy new clothes and trendy cosmetics. I knew what she liked and often advised her to buy what she liked and not to save money. I would carry all the bags for her, and my mother, like a little girl, would be overjoyed to have bought things she liked, and would unconsciously take my arm.
When crossing the road, I would gently hold my mother's hand and pull her to avoid oncoming vehicles. Later, I went a step further and would put my arm around my mother's slender waist, saying "Be careful, be careful," while secretly glancing at her. Her face would be a little red, but she didn't refuse.
My mother would also indulge me and accompany me to see a movie or go on a trip to the suburbs.
What makes me happiest is joking with my mom, being a little teasing but not going too far.
In the movie theater, people always looked at us like we were a couple, and I was happy to accept it. I couldn't help it; my mother was too beautiful. She looked like a young married woman, while I looked like a handsome husband.
I would tell the waiter, "Please get my girlfriend a glass of juice," and then watch my mom's face turn red, looking embarrassed and unable to deny it to her face—it was just so adorable.
After the waiter walked away, my mother suddenly reached out and pinched me hard, scolding me for daring to joke about her. But her eyes were full of laughter, and although I felt pain, I felt sweet inside.
I watched as the distance between my mother and me gradually shrank, but I knew I couldn't rush things and had to take it slowly. My mother is a very strong-willed woman, and she wouldn't suddenly give up everything and completely reveal her vulnerable side to me.
Actually, my mother has started to rely on me. She tells me about her work and listens to my opinions. When she's feeling down, she also confides in me and asks me to comfort her.
She increasingly enjoys playing the role of the woman in the family, not just the mother.
She would often say with a smile, "You're the man of this house, so you're in charge!"
As I watched my mother change, her beautiful curves flowing before my eyes, and the occasional glimpses of her breasts, slender waist, or alluring inner thighs, all I could do was desperately hold back, trying to prevent my huge penis from exploding.
One day in late summer, the sky was overcast. Although it was cool, I felt very depressed.
This day is the anniversary of my father's death. Every year on this day, I stay with my mother, as a way of comforting each other.
That evening, I went into my mother's room and found her gazing at the night sky outside the window again.
I walked over, sat down next to her, and put my arm around her shoulder.
"Mom, are you missing Dad?"
My mother didn't answer. She turned her head, and I saw tears in her eyes.
A pang of pain shot through my heart. I hugged my mother tightly, and she didn't refuse. Instead, she pressed her head even closer to my chest.
"Mom, please don't be sad. You still have me. I will always be with you."
"Silly son, if it weren't for you, how could your mother have survived all these years?"
I lowered my head and looked at the woman in my arms. It was a face I knew all too well, so beautiful—curved eyebrows, large eyes, a delicate nose, and red lips that made my blood boil. The fine wrinkles left by time added to her mature beauty, making her even more alluring, and with tears in her eyes, she was even more captivating.
I hugged my mother, and my body warmed up, but she didn't notice. She thought I was just comforting her and didn't push me away.
My mother looked up at me, her eyes filled with tenderness.
I stared into those eyes, and a surge of emotion welled up inside me.
"Mom, you've worked so hard all these years, supporting this family all by yourself. I know how much you've suffered and how much loneliness you've endured for me. Mom, I want you to know that I truly love you, and I will always be with you."
"Mom loves you too, son. Everything Mom does is for you. As long as you're happy, I don't care how much hardship I have to endure. Because I am your mother."
"No, Mom. I love you not only because you are my mother, but also because you are the most beautiful woman in my heart."
The body in my arms jolted, and my mother opened her eyes wide to look at me.
"What are you talking about?!"
"Mom, look at me closely. Don't I look a lot like Dad? I know you've looked at me before, and you thought I didn't notice, but your eyes told me what you felt. Don't you wish I could comfort you like Dad did?"
My mother's face turned red instantly. She tried to break free from my embrace, but I held her tightly.
"Look into my eyes, Mom! Don't lie to me, and don't lie to yourself. You need me, you are so beautiful, only Dad and I are worthy of you. Mom, I love you, and I know you love me too. Didn't you say that I am the man of this family, and you are the woman of this family? We shouldn't just be mother and son."
I paused for a moment, then whispered in my mother's ear, "We should still be lovers."
"But……"
I didn't let my mother finish speaking; instead, I silenced her with my own mouth.
I kissed her forcefully downwards, sucking on her lips with mine, using my tongue to pry open her clenched teeth, and holding her tightly in my arms.
Gradually, my mother's body warmed up and softened in my arms, and her breathing became more and more rapid.
Finally, Mom opened her mouth and let me kiss her deeply. Time seemed to stand still, and this long kiss melted away as we embraced.
Our lips finally parted, and we breathed heavily. Mom's face was as red as a girl's first kiss.
We gazed at each other for a long time, and then Mom murmured, "You really look like your father."
I couldn't resist kissing her again, but Mom chuckled and dodged away, whispering in my ear like a breath, "Silly boy, you don't need to hold me so tightly. Do you think I'd run away?"
This gentle rebuke sounded like thunder in my ears, because I knew that from this moment on, Mom was mine!
We kissed deeply again, and as our tongues intertwined, my hands began to roam over my mother's body. My left hand gently caressed her back, following the curve of her spine to her waist, then slowly moving down to her hips. My right hand slid from her armpit to her chest, stopping when I felt a bulge, and gently circling the edge of her breasts.
Mom finally couldn't help but laugh, pressing her body even closer to me and wrapping her arms around my neck.
My mother would gently nip my ear and say, "You naughty boy, you're quite experienced! How did you learn that? Confess now!"
My heart skipped a beat, and I hurriedly protested, "No! I've really never touched a girl before. I only read about it in books. I really haven't... um..."
My mother covered my mouth again, showing her trust in me through her actions.
I tentatively reached out to unbutton my mother's clothes. She didn't object; instead, she tossed her hair back as if to make it easier for me.
I noticed that my mother's hairstyle was that of a typical working woman, which further aroused my desire.
I finally unbuttoned my mother's shirt, revealing her white bra, and I almost stopped breathing. A pair of full breasts stood proudly before me, though restrained by the bra.
I buried my head between her breasts, inhaling her mature womanly scent, my hands kneading my bare waist. I clumsily tried to unhook her bra, but to no avail. My mother didn't help me; instead, she giggled like a little girl.
I felt a little embarrassed and decided to teach my mother a lesson.
I pinned my mother against the wall, yanked hard with my hands, snapping the not-so-thick strap of her bra, then bit down on it with my teeth, tossed it aside, and that's it. Now, the most alluring breasts in the world were right in front of me.
A forty-year-old woman's breasts are full and round, unlike the thin breasts of a young girl. And my mother's breasts don't sag like those of other women her age; they are my favorite hemispherical shape, protruding forward.
I grasped one nipple in each hand and gently kneaded it. I looked up at my mother with a defiant gaze.
My mother's eyes were hazy, as if veiled by a mist, and she let out low, trembling moans as she gently stroked my hair. Then I took one of her breasts into my mouth, sucking and gently biting the nipple with my teeth. The familiar feeling from my childhood made me feel intoxicated.
I kissed my mother's chest, then down to her lovely belly button, and further down, gradually reaching the forbidden zone of life.
My hands began to unbutton my mother's skirt from the side, buttoning it up one button at a time. My mother seemed flustered and grabbed my hand. I looked at her with a resolute gaze, awaiting her answer. My mother was breathing heavily, her breasts heaving, making my penis feel like it was about to burst through my pants.
My mother pulled me up and gently cupped my face in her hands: "Son, I'm getting old, and do you know what we're doing? Society doesn't allow it. Are you really willing to take such a risk?"
"Mom, I don't care, I only know that I truly love you. You're not old at all, you're the most beautiful woman in my heart, and your maturity is exactly what I want. I know this is incest, but this family only has you and me, a man and a woman, and everything should happen."
I took off my shirt, hugged my mother in my arms again, and kissed her.
Our lips met, my mother's exposed breasts pressed against my chest, and my erection pressed against her lower body. We had never been so close.
When I felt my nipples harden and press against me, I didn't give my mother a chance to object and untied her skirt.
My mother's short skirt slid down her long legs to her black high heels, and I saw her white underwear. It was my favorite color; my mother's fair skin and elegant demeanor suited pure white perfectly, giving her a dignified yet alluring look.
My face was pressed against my mother's smooth thighs, her skin glistening and her muscles supple. I couldn't resist kissing and licking them, while stroking her rounded calves with my hands. Because she was wearing high heels, her calves looked even more sexy.
My mother crossed her arms over her chest, enjoying my caresses. My hands slipped inside her panties from behind, kneading her full buttocks, my thumbs sliding forward towards the inside of her thighs.
My mother started to tremble. She grabbed my hand as if to stop me, then let go as if she were shyly covering her face.
I picked up my mother, walked to the bed, and placed her on it, standing between her legs. I took off my pants, finally releasing my long-suppressed erection. Slowly, I pulled down my mother's white panties, revealing her dark pubic hair and trembling pink vulva, already glistening with fluid.
My mother's eyes were tightly closed, her hair disheveled, and she was biting her lip, panting. I couldn't hold back any longer. I straightened my penis and thrust it into her vagina. My mother seemed to be in a little pain, and she hugged me tightly, letting out a soft moan. But at that moment, I felt like I was in heaven. Perhaps my mother hadn't done it in a long time; her vagina was very tight, and the walls of her vagina completely enveloped my penis. That warm, fulfilling feeling was incomparable to masturbation.
I didn't care about being gentle; I started thrusting quickly, making my mother moan uncontrollably beneath me. When my mouth was on my mother's full breasts, when my hands were squeezing her plump buttocks, when I heard my usually dignified and capable mother moaning beneath me, I knew I couldn't hold on much longer.
My frequency increased, and my mother's breasts trembled with each impact. She tried to keep her mouth shut, but she still moaned.
I hugged my mother tightly, and a warm current shot into the depths of her vagina, the place where I was conceived. I suddenly wondered, could there be another new life this time?
I lay on top of my mother, my head resting on her breasts, panting, my penis slowly softening inside her vagina.
"Mom, are you okay?"
My mother opened her eyes and looked at me with a firm gaze, as if she had regained her usual composure.
"Son, now that we've had sex, Mom loves you. From now on, Mom is your woman, and you will be Mom's only man."
"Mother……"
I couldn't help but hug my mother again and give her a sweet kiss. I held her with one arm and lovingly stroked her flat stomach with the other. My mother leaned against my shoulder obediently, and her soft breathing made my neck feel ticklish.
"Mom, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"I was too impulsive just now and wasn't considerate enough. I know you're not satisfied. But..."
"But what?"
I rolled over and answered my mother with my newly erect penis.
This time I slowed down, thrusting in and out while caressing my mother's entire body. Perhaps because I had just ejaculated, this time it lasted longer.
I kept changing the frequency, making my mother's moans louder and louder. She hugged me tightly and murmured my name in my ear.
In the final moments, I resolutely thrust deeper and deeper, until my mother's fingers dug hard into my back, until her vagina contracted in waves, until she leaned weakly into my arms. Her eyes were already blurred, still immersed in immense pleasure.
I looked at the beautiful woman in my arms. Her office worker hairstyle was now disheveled, and her dignified expression had been replaced by joy. Her curves, usually subtly concealed by her suit, were now completely exposed.
This is my mother, that strong, capable, and still charming woman, lying obediently in my arms, letting me kiss and caress every part of her body, every private part.
I must be in heaven right now! (The End. _+)

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/218056.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=218056&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Puppet Game

Next Page : Body Ice Cream

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

son taking over father's duties

comment Open a new window to view comments