A mother's confession

A Mother's Confession
Author: Wen Jun
Word Count: 17848 words
(1)
A middle-aged woman with a faint scent of perfume, long hair, and a plump figure.
Of course, if you are a man, yes, I mean the kind of man who is still alive, then... I'm
sure you must have glanced at me a few more times back then.
No mistake, I am that kind of woman. I know, those men... hehe, want me!
Although I have been doing this with him for more than a year, whenever he pounces on me with a strong masculine scent and
thrusts his excited body into my waist, I still feel dizzy...
Perhaps I just like this feeling of being suddenly possessed.
After , whenever he gives me a look that is both a command and a request, I will always
obediently sit or lie down in every corner of the house facing him, in all the positions he likes, spread my
legs, and let him take the pleasure and release he wants.
Even when we were doing such things, we always consciously kept quiet, trying to forget our identities, but
the words that kept coming out of our mouths were: "No, nowadays, no matter how a man treats me,
it's like a magic spell that never fails. As long as he loses his composure and cries out something like 'Mom... I'm going to cum...'
, a surge of wicked pleasure rushes to my head, always making me, in that instant, feel completely
overwhelmed, my face flushed, my vagina tightly contracting, letting every drop of his lubrication seep into the deepest part of my
body ... Pregnancy? This concern in the eyes of the world, in
the moments when we were lost in each other's thoughts, was just to increase the pleasure of our intercourse. If I hadn't had a tubal ligation after giving birth to him for health
reasons , I... Oh, how should I put it?
For me, already addicted to the opium of 'incest,' just the thought of 'being pregnant with his child' was enough
to generate a burning desire, not to mention... Sigh!" I admit, this whole thing (well, I prefer... ) Yes
, ever since I had the thought of "wanting to possess him," my thoughts
have　　 ...
"Ugh, he's trying to use his pillow on my butt again... Ugh, so deep, could it be... ?"
The accidental skin contact, the smile, the hot pants, a certain tacit understanding, the walls of our relationship are already riddled with holes,
breaking through my uterus?
Looking back, seducing a young man like him, who has just developed a strong curiosity about "sex," into bed
isn't the hardest thing. The hard thing is, how do you convince yourself to do such a thing?
At least in my opinion, once the belief arises, making you willing to become a sex demon, then you
either have to be incredibly unattractive. Otherwise, any woman with even a little bit of beauty, as long as she's willing... By
boldly , every male around her will quickly and arrogantly receive
the "I want" message emanating from her—that's their duty.
If we really want to pinpoint the reason for this, it's simple: it's just the word "loneliness."
You know? It's that kind of life with a peaceful, stable exterior, but a heart pounding with a suffocating restlessness
...
The person transforms into fragments of flower petals, then melts into a hot, writhing mass of flesh, reaching the climax of ecstasy.
As you know, in this male-dominated world, for a woman like me who lost her husband early... There has long
existed a one-sided, presumptuous moral imperative.
Often, while those loyal and righteous brothers perfunctorily bury the recently deceased man with sand,
absurd traces, countless as the sands of the Ganges, fill every corner of the room.
All human emotions and desires are sealed away.
In my "high society," women's feelings are deliberately ignored.
The constant "hints" I receive tell me that no matter what methods a
man uses, once he is fortunate enough to enter this class, then, no matter how unspeakable he was in life... Even after he
leaves this world, he still deserves a woman's eternal remembrance and unwavering chastity.
In my opinion, in most cases, this is merely
a morally questionable notion fueled by a man's "the fox mourns the rabbit's death" mentality.
It's true that many passionate women are willing to remain widows for their deceased husbands, but if their
deceased husbands are truly unforgettable, yet the living woman is forced to feign a chaste demeanor of "
if we cannot live together, we wish to be buried together," then the performance inevitably becomes distorted and
awkward... It sounds so easy, but actually, this "fusion" only happened five
years
. Before that...
well, I dare not lie to you, I was a good wife and mother praised by everyone! "
In a small space?"
After a considerable hesitation, he finally succumbed to the dictates of lust and foolishly crawled between my legs. I
don't know whether to say it's a pity... or just as hateful, the good woman praised by everyone in front of you
suddenly changed after her son entered junior high school.
Let me think... yes, back then, the one on top of me, seemed to have been given a boost.
The strict family upbringing made him dare not hide anything from me. However, because of the mistake he made in front of me
... He grew taller inch by inch, and his every move exuded a masculine confidence and nonchalance.
But after he finally surpassed me by a full head, I realized I had developed a very different
feeling .
How to put it? You know, it was that… warm, soft feeling.
Looking back, at first, my feelings for him were like those of a mother who, upon giving
birth
But as the house began to fill with his masculine scent, the
dormant female instincts within me were finally awakened, stirring subtly until they became
uncontrollable .
As my mind became increasingly unrestrained, my entire body, already permeated by his scent,
began to interpret his every smile and gesture inappropriately.
I always felt that his intentional or unintentional closeness and languid charm were deliberately concealing a series of
pink codes that would make a woman blush; intermittently irritating, yet strangely domineering and unsettling.
As the masculine scent emanating from him grew stronger, my moments of losing control became more frequent.
My infatuation with him finally and uncontrollably transformed from "protecting me" to "loving me"; and then...
as if possessed by an evil spirit, I unknowingly transformed into a lioness
in heat, beginning to inappropriately plot against the little lion king who was always around me...
"You have such... wicked thoughts about your own son?" "
Well, I must answer you properly."
Of course, if you think that a woman is "well-off" as long as she has enough to eat and wear,
then I must unfortunately tell you that with the possessions my late husband left me, let alone one "
well-off ," even ten or a hundred "well-off" wouldn't be enough.
But, like other women, besides being well-fed and clothed, I also need love—a profound
emotional connection and a deep, physical union; I can't do without it for even a moment.
So, this "well-off" life is now being returned to you, to be enjoyed by some high monk or nun elsewhere
.
As for why I would pour romantic love into my son?
To be honest, I have no answer to that, given your current situation.
It's just that all those lively little things only appear when "he" looks at me with those shy eyes
, and of course, at that moment, you... are no longer there.
Heh, afraid you'd be too honest to press me, I'll just confess to you myself.
Actually, that dreadful "loneliness" didn't initially torment this
weak woman . Facing an empty bed, if you called it "cold and desolate," I initially thought it was "peaceful"!
Unfortunately, all this outward leisure and composure was so easily disturbed. A single
thought , a few twisted arguments, and it all crumbled!
The vigilance that should have stood firm to stop this impending farce, letting it all come crashing down, was instead...
I know you're well-read, but I wonder if your teachers ever taught you the saying, "A thousand scratches are not as effective as a gentle brush"
? This is a living, breathing, yet subtle, ironclad rule. If you've carefully understood it
and can crumble into
a pile of mud with just a few soft words from you.
Happy!
You're still asking me how I know such things?
Heh... I'm not wrong to say you're honest
.
Right now, what you see of me is just a perfectly normal "pile," isn't it? "How embarrassing! How could I be so weak today? I only let him take one stroke... and I came? Look at his
smug look, I guess I couldn't hide it from him, could I? You little rascal, you're getting worse and worse..."
Heh, don't rush, don't rush, I'm fine, but... you have to let me catch my breath
before continue, right?
At that time, all the things that couldn't be said only swirled in my mind. Outwardly, I was no different from
any other mother, and my care and concern for him were also the same. Confucius would definitely give me a hundred
points, unless... He had clearly found those "naughty" traces on my underwear.
Despite my conscious efforts to suppress them, a kind of "calmness that urgently needed to be broken" still permeated the house, and
I, as a mother, began to fall into a stalemate of confusion.
To go forward would only lead to a bottomless abyss; to retreat would only result in endless spinning.
Just as I was desperately trying to come up with a way to escape unscathed, hey, hey, hey, something actually happened
!
Last year, around this time of year, when I came back from shopping... I went into the bathroom, removed my makeup, and was calculating what to do
next... The Confessor, I, Wenjun, yes, the one who just passed you at that street corner yesterday, my
pants still on, had been washed and neatly hung on the towel rack.
Tilting my head, examining those neatly hung pants, I, who should have been utterly puzzled, immediately
blurted out the answer.
This answer made my face flush red with joy, my heart pounding, and I
was just a hair's breadth away from shouting... Originally, while the lioness was quietly adoring her
cub, the proud young lion had been scheming against her.
And... just today, that lustful cub had begun to gently approach and sniff the lioness's genitals
.
Oh... just thinking about this, all my reason completely collapsed... my restless hands slid rapidly towards my
breasts and genitals, responding to their cries for liberation, giving them immediate caresses and comfort.
"Oh, my child, when you do such things to your mother, do you know what kind of
impact it will have on her? You certainly never thought that she might not be able to withstand such intense pleasure, silently collapsing in shock. "
In my mind, which was already churning with turbulent waves, scenes of cunning that should have been absolutely forbidden were recklessly played out
.
You ask me, what did I do all night?
I think the surroundings turned into a blurry dark red, and I heard cries mixed with "Mama, Mama..."
"Really? Just a nap," came
the panting breath. "...and it'll go away already?"
As the harsh tiles of the bathroom loomed over me like a beast, maliciously surrounding me, I collapsed to the floor
, instinctively clutching my thin panties tightly to my chest.
I refused to reveal them, for they were a pink mark between mother and son—a mark that could
be tragic, but also brutal.
The sexual horns my son had sounded brought me only a brief moment of panic; I couldn't distinguish between the guidance of love and
the seduction of desire. I quickly cast aside the fragility of morality that held me captive, succumbing to the wrath of a
mother beast eager to devour.
Before my soul could kneel in surrender, my body had already launched its attack.
Scattered, and... complete in terms of interest. Oh, the hardship of creating such fallacies, unless you experience it yourself, is not something you can easily understand.
"This young man, did he take some kind of magic potion today? He's been sticking into me so hard my skin is almost peeling off, and he still won't
ejaculate..."
When I entered the living room, he was on the sofa, resting his head on his arm, intently watching the TV screen. The male protagonist on the screen
was making suggestive remarks and teasing the female special guest. With my deliberate arrangement, I
subtly exposed what men consider an important part of their bodies—of course, I didn't want him to notice—that
I was actually quite hot under my bathrobe.
Just as I pulled out my still-soaked underwear from behind and displayed it to him, he grabbed the
remote control and turned off the TV. Then, he buried his head weakly in his chest, too afraid to move.
His series of unintentional actions finally convinced me that something had recently happened in this house
.
Staring intently at this "wrongdoing" "child" before me, my newly awakened lust rose and fell.
I could scold him like a mother someone else had taught me to be. After a scolding, the wife-teaching
routine continued , not easily stopped.
I could continue to devour the old chapters of the story; or I could be like a mother who submits to the dress itself, leading him to
a new page without limits, painting the whole world with pink.
Which choice did I make?
Heh, you probably wouldn't even guess, right?
Suppressing the urge to directly confess "I do," I deliberately asked him casually, "
While honestly entering his own grave, you also looked at the weeping woman beside you with an 'expectant' gaze,
telling me... what's going on?" This
was something he had never experienced before, so explaining it was somewhat difficult and fragmented… "It was...it was me
...I accidentally got it dirty...I was afraid...afraid...so I washed it..."
His stammering tone and the suggestive word "dirty"
only strengthened my earlier assumption.
The "evidence" in my hand hadn't been used on anything easily dismissed.
He hadn't expected that his passionate spray would not only defile his mother's
underwear also erode all her defenses...
Although the whole matter was now clear, I, with other plans in mind, firstly to confirm my doubts, and secondly to
satisfy my sudden urge to tease my prey, after he stammered for a while, I feigned a
stern rebuke: "Afraid? Tell me, what are you afraid of? Are you afraid I'll scold you...or afraid I'll
...get pregnant?"
"So, I can only give it to... your obedient son..."
This hastily fabricated "pregnancy" immediately startled him. Completely flustered
, he ignored my scolding and asked in horror, "Really? Just like that... it will...
it will ... make you pregnant? Then... then..."
Seeing his flustered state, I found it both funny and delightful.
My continued mental lapse made me sulk. Unable to reflect on myself, I even started to...
The funny thing is, I never imagined that the man I raised would have almost zero knowledge about sex.
And what made me delighted was... if things really went as I hoped, then...
besides would also be his... first lover?
Let that shy thought in my heart... My heart was pounding from the warmth of the machine, and I looked at this clueless little boy in front of me
: "Hehe, do you think I'm a frog, that just touching a little bit of that... equipment will make me pregnant?"
He already had a look of sincere remorse, as if he was about to be scolded. So, he absolutely has no idea that
no matter what I... do to me... I... won't get pregnant..."
This short string of words, which shouldn't have come from me as his mother, had barely left my lips when it bombarded his innocent mind, leaving him
speechless for a long time.
You know, looking at his flushed face, his bewildered... timid appearance, even
when I looked closely at my own expression, I was still certain that my words, "I won't get pregnant," were still in his mind.
Sigh! How to put it... I was just a tiny bit away from directly telling him my plan and then
... Oh...how embarrassing!
It's a pity that back then I wasn't as "open-minded" as I am now, so the kind of thing that happened—
" skirts and pants flying everywhere, mistaking the sofa for a bed"—didn't happen.
Thinking back now, I was incredibly cowardly. Even though every cell in my body was burning
with desire, I was still held back by those long-held "ethics and morality," wasting my time (how pathetic!).
Even so, he
forcefully pushed me backward, his frail resistance completely oblivious to the fact that I had no more room to withstand his
relentless assault.
What's more, the guilt that had previously troubled him had vanished without a trace.
It wasn't hard to understand; for a blatantly sexual predator like him, what could be more precious
than a mother who couldn't conceive?
There shouldn't be any doubt, because at that moment I could clearly feel the raw, unadulterated sexual intent emanating from his fiery eyes
, a gaze that was utterly destructive. He ripped away all my feminine
protection, slipped between my legs, and arbitrarily stimulated the fragile device encased in my underwear…
Oh, as a willing victim, I was both panicked and…
Only a blind man wouldn't have missed it, because it was the most conspicuous place in the room.
Certainly, as I expected, my infertility had successfully unleashed his ambition, but facing my son with his erect penis
for felt somewhat strenuous—no parenting guide could
tell you what to do in this situation.
“Here it comes, here it comes, my darling, you finally came… Mom's with you, let Mom be with you all the way…
Hmm… Ah… Today yours… yours… is especially hot…”
We stood silently facing each other in the living room for a good ten minutes, although we both…
I could clearly sense that forbidden message, and we were exchanging it passionately, but we maintained
a mysterious standoff. What stood between us, besides the bond of mother and son, was the age difference.
Having no experience with men and women, he could never have imagined that at this crucial moment, if he had simply mustered the courage to approach and
push me away, I would have simply fallen backward, fulfilling our desires.
Unfortunately, the chaos I had been waiting for never happened. To be honest, at that moment, besides disappointment, I also
felt a little bit of energy, because the situation before him was so obvious, yet he just stood there like a
wooden statue . This immediately diminished my initial "enthusiasm," replacing it with a
desire to tease him.
"Yes, besides verbal teasing... can't I use some other methods to encourage
him?" I asked myself like a master playwright.
The baby girl, innocently exposing her most private parts to those burly men, was completely unable to resist
... The question was quickly answered; in fact, it was the only method my hormone-fueled brain
could .
I know this method is somewhat... absurd, but I'm certain it will work . It would definitely work!
Without hesitating for less than half a second, I turned around like a complete stranger to him,
my back to him, and bent down to slowly untie the black silk underpants beneath my robe.
When I stepped out of the crotch, turned back, and held that small wad of fabric in front of him, he lowered his head in shock.
I knew he must have assumed that my actions had some serious meaning, so you can
imagine how shocked he was when I said the following words to him.
"Listen carefully, this is the only one I'm giving you. You can play with it however you like.
But you're not allowed to touch the others. Mom doesn't want to wear the pants that have been stained with your...that side..."
However, this time I couldn't give it away by my own power, unless...he was willing!
Though I spoke lightly, my mind was perfectly clear—I was blatantly seducing
my son, using the most intense methods.
I was amazed that I could utter such a shocking sentence so fluently and smoothly,
as if I were explaining an ordinary household matter to him.
I
remember very clearly, after hearing those words, he, who could no longer distinguish north from south... He stood there stunned for a full
half minute .
His tongue chased after mine, our taste buds, deformed by the pressure, exchanging intense, sensual thoughts.
Who could blame him? Tonight, his family had been so "strict."
So close, I could almost hear his chaotic heartbeat, but I couldn't guess what kind of
retaliation he would take.
For a fleeting moment, I guiltily wondered if I had committed some terrible mistake.
Thank God, despite the scare, my energetic son wasn't
defeated by the challenge his mother had presented him.
He first gave me an awkward smile, silently acknowledging that this small piece of cloth was a treasure to him,
and through its guidance… Young lives can be carelessly and casually reduced to ashes.
Then, like a ravenous beast, he began to stare intently at the prey in my hand—
the underwear still warm from my body.
From his increasingly heavy breathing, I knew that my initial worries about him were unnecessary; my
son worshipped not his reason, but his hormones.
As time slowly passed, the silence in the living room began to torment us.
I gradually felt his gaze was as sharp as a knife, as fiery as fire.
Hearing his still so humbly deny it, I deliberately leaned back against him, and with a twist of my body, used
the small weapon of my spine to tear his lustful thoughts to shreds. On the other side, his face beamed with joy
... This, of course, also included young men like my son.
He desperately tried to dispel his hesitation and suppress his impulse, causing his hands to tremble uncontrollably.
Finally, just as I was somewhat at a loss and was about to pull the pair of trousers away from him, he
swiftly grabbed them!
Although all of this was within my expectations, his swiftness in searching still genuinely startled me
.
Holding my breath, I looked at her with vulnerable eyes. The once unrestrained me had
vanished without a trace; only a timid little woman remained in the living room.
What happened in this house was something only "me" and "him" could know.
"Thank you..."
You certainly won't believe it, but these two short, sharp words were
the only !
Although I could clearly sense his importance from his tone,
I almost burst out laughing at the fact that this young man, who had attempted to overturn the grand ceremony, had actually held onto his last shred of dignity at this critical moment...
Unfortunately, my counterattack had no effect on him whatsoever. Because, after uttering those two precise words,
"Thank you," he turned around and dashed towards his room like an arrow, slamming the door shut with a "bang.
" (Someone might have been able to resist eavesdropping for a moment at this moment, so my ears unknowingly 　　... You just say that when a woman is swept away by the waves of desire, restraint becomes her last thought ...) "Oh...oh...hum...hum..." Sounds , faint and indistinct, drifted through the thick doorway, whispering his ecstasy to me. 　　Thinking of the underwear I'd just taken off, now tightly wrapped around his penis, grinding back and forth, my legs felt almost unable to straighten. 　　Ten years ago, to care for his tender little bottom, I chose the most expensive diapers for him; today, to care for his full scrotum, I prepared the freshest underwear for him. 　　As the cold air seeped through the hem of my robe and into my empty genitals, I thought, I, as a mother...

It was a bit too "huge"... Fortunately, my brain isn't the most vibrant part of me, and that fleeting
self- reproach was quickly dismissed by the life truth I had just grasped.
For a moment, I loved this feeling of being in control of everything. From this day forward, in this little pink country
, I would govern both the Executive Yuan and the Legislative Yuan. I would inevitably be the president of this house, oh,
even bigger than that, the vice president... "Kid, take care of your health, don't ruin it! Mom is
counting on you to take care of me for the rest of my life!"
This was the only sentence I dared to silently recite when I left...
Ha, if I told you that I actually spent the whole night engrossed in studying "Son of Taiwan,"
would you... believe me?
See? Still working, right?
Well, the only thing I remember is that the door to my room... was open the whole night.
Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulders from behind and whispered in my ear in a coquettish tone, "It smells so good!"
At that moment, I suddenly lost all my self-confidence. "
Mom, what are you cooking today? I could smell the delicious aroma as soon as I walked in..."
I knew that what he really wanted to praise wasn't the food I was cooking... As for my cooking skills, I'm
pretty much clueless; I can't even cook anything that will kill you.
What drew him closer was definitely the scent of my perfume.
After saying that double entendre, he boldly and "secretly" used his swollen member
to gently stroke around my buttocks… Suddenly annoyed, I retorted, "How does
it work? What device works?"
Even though I hate trouble, I secretly took the easy way out in such an important matter… "Stop pretending, it's that…
device I gave you the other day!"
"Oh, that… device, I, I…"
"Hehe! Did you break it with your clumsy hands? Now… you're eyeing this
one on me?"
"No… no, I…"
I rubbed it against his flesh, then said meaningfully, "Good… kid, be careful
, using this device around like that will make us women's pants dirty…"
"Take it off, if you dare to actually do it, whatever you take off is yours..."
"Is it really that useful? Why don't you take one off too, and let Mom try it?"
Ugh! If I keep playing with him like this, I'm afraid I won't be able to get out of bed tomorrow...
Just one accidental bump and I'll completely collapse, letting him know I'm wearing underwear stained with his
semen .
Carefully choosing underwear, like a new bride.
The loose white nightgown only reveals my fragrant, smooth neck and arms, unintentionally letting him know I
've had a tubal ligation.
"Mom, I want to marry a clean and elegant wife like you in the future..."
"Hehe, it's so kind of you to be so supportive. If you really can't find the kind of girl you're looking for, then... Mom will fill
in and let you be her wife, okay?"
Following such blatant teasing, I leaned closer, wrapped my arms around his left arm, and adopted a girlish coquettish
posture, intentionally or unintentionally rubbing my firm breasts against his elbow through my robe...
Hehe, just as I predicted, under my wave of pink attacks, his "that place" underwent a noticeable
change. Although he was shy and tried his best to act nonchalant, I knew that as long as my
vibrant soul was also claimed...
At this critical moment, if he added a single word, I guarantee he wouldn't be able to sit still...
The screen was showing a discovery program, pointing at his bulging part, saying, "You naughty
boy, what are you thinking about? You're making this thorny spot grow..."
My face turned red, and I couldn't answer...
"What? It's still there after all this time?"
I wrapped my arms around his neck.
"Come on, go to sleep, take a nap," it "...will go away."
"Then...it depends on whether you sleep alone...or whether you two sleep together?"
Anyway, at that moment I had made up my mind, fully prepared to have a good time with my son.
"Mom, you...I..."
When I looked up and met his fiery red eyes, I timidly lowered my head and said the following
in : "The house is only so big, do you really have to make me ask to know
where Mom sleeps?"
"Just one room, it's just you and me at home. If you really want to do something... then do it! Mom... will
let you have your way."
He suckled on my neck, panting, "Mom, you're so beautiful... I... I want... I
really want..."
Unfortunately, the moral compass lingering in my heart hadn't even had time to unleash its shaky
old tricks before my audacious spine succumbed to the temptation of sin, hastily casting its
vote for its master, softly arching me back on the long-awaited spring bed.
At that crucial moment, it maliciously failed to appear.
I, already slightly out of breath, buried my will and clarity within my burning vulva,
then my flat stomach. "This is where you've been..." I finally fell in love with this
"care" that had progressed to "cherishing"...
Under its allure, I believed that this blind following of desire had an irrefutable logic, and all I lacked
was a compelling reason to justify it.
Although
all of this was orchestrated by me, as the chaos unfolded as I had anticipated
, the instinct for culpability immediately surged forth, transforming me into an innocent mother being hurt.
That feeling made me begin to feel a stinging pain from his burning gaze. My
gaze drifted over his hair and ears, landing on the crystal shards of the lamp base behind him, to conceal
the anxiety in my heart... or rather... guilt!
By this point in the process, I seemed to have no reason to resist his physique. So, when he hurriedly
pulled down my underwear and gave me a pleading look, I could only shyly turn my head away. Gradually...
She laid her legs down on him, spreading them wide... At that moment, I felt like an infant still in swaddling clothes. At
that moment, it was less like "trousers" and more like a piece of "cloth." Right, it wasn't just
talking; she embraced him from behind, wrapped her arms around his neck, and lightly bumped her buttocks against his groin.
They indulged in those ugly, terrifying fantasies.
Facing the vulva that had brought him into this world, he froze completely, as if struck on the back of the head.
Although I couldn't see his expression, from his disordered breathing, I thought he still
had the hesitation that everyone has about doing such a thing with his own mother. But,
after experiencing that fiery impact down there, I understood that what stopped him wasn't moral restraint,
but the first time a virgin was facing this messy affair of procreation...
and then curiously began searching for that fleshy crevice at my groin.
When he finally found the way and steadily aligned his glans with the entrance to my vagina, I clearly heard the rapid heartbeat emanating from his chest
. This was without a doubt, because the little strip of cloth I had given him was now lying neatly on his
chest. All I knew was that since it was already in my bosom, there was no reason to unfold it... I wanted to know what kind of expression and reaction my only son, the man who was pressing down on me, would have when he tasted the flavor of a woman for the first time. Especially when the one who brought him all this pleasure was the woman who brought him into this world, I thought that any man would find it difficult to handle. I even wondered if the overwhelming emotions might cause him to... 　　As his flesh sank deeper and deeper into my vagina, overwhelmed by guilt, I only felt a chill, and my skin became soaked with sweat. 　　Next, there were my full breasts. "Tonight, I... I'll feed you with them again, okay?" 　　You probably won't believe it, but the moment his glans slid in completely, my limbs shrank back in fear like a specimen being stretched open, as if I were being subjected to some inhuman torture. In my daze, the pain and sorrow of giving birth to him came vividly back. (Such a statement...) was all produced under my control! 　　Time, as if startled by everything in the room, seemed to stop. 　　His penis, which should have been of a certain size, felt like endless waves of profound impact to me, who felt utterly defeated; whenever I thought I had completely captured his body, another fierce force would suddenly leap out, taking over the fact. 　　Eager to explore how much female function could bring to a male, he couldn't help but have the conjecture that "the unknown depths must hold unknown benefits," so until my buttocks and his... 20. So solid and profound, before producing a dull thud, he never imagined that I might not be able to contain his bulge, let alone leave even a tiny bit of my flesh outside. 　　Truly, a young man's desire cannot be ignored or neglected. 　　The thrusting and withdrawing followed immediately after he had confidently captured my body. 　　I was surprised, secretly pleased… He didn't ejaculate rapidly after penetration as I had anticipated . 　　Like an amateur learning to sail, he first… Carefully, I gently pulled his instrument out halfway , took a breath, and then cautiously pushed it back in place, letting the reddened glans deliberately swell inside my vagina (twice). 　　Clearly, he must have secretly rehearsed this a thousand times; no wonder he could enjoy his mother so methodically and unhurriedly. 　　Soon, after his (twice) gentle withdrawal and insertion, having already memorized my body temperature and become familiar with my surroundings, he began to arouse greatly. The boldness not only increased the frequency of the thrusting but also amplified the arc of the swing. 　　This caused the eerily quiet room to begin to creak with the sounds of the spring mattress… 　　Each creak represented a deeper thrust, each longer than the last. 　　My lower body, unable to cope with such intense and frequent penetration, sank deeply into the mattress; every chance of surfacing was met with another of his thrusts. What a missed opportunity… 　　Though I was completely drowsy in bed, my stubbornness forced me to forcefully open my eyes and give him a quick glance. 　　From his smug expression, I came to a conclusion: only other women, or… his mother, could give him pleasure. 　　To this day, I still can't explain why, at that moment when I finally got what I wanted after such painstaking effort, two streams of hot tears silently welled up in my cheeks. Perhaps he was too busy savoring the sweetness of the fountain of desire to ponder this sudden surge of emotion; as always, he, being prone to overthinking, had already cleverly found the answer for me. He didn't utter a single word. 　　Like a devoted lover, he stopped thrusting, lowered his waist, and leaned down towards me. After a deep look at me, he gently lowered his head and lightly kissed my eyelids, nose, and finally lingered on my slightly trembling lips. 　　Just like that, my tears earned him his first kiss. 　　Having no prior kissing experience, he tried his best to appear experienced, but still made many mistakes. So when his tongue frantically tried to pry open my lips, I could only part my lips to accommodate him. It 　　wasn't until our tongues first touched in my mouth that I suddenly remembered that he was besides my husband, the only man in my life to hold me so tightly. The pleasure of the tightness and friction, and the visual delight, the man, actually didn't care too much. I helplessly let him do as he pleased. Everyone knows that in this position, we women are at a disadvantage... 　　Thinking that my first affair was with my own son, I couldn't help but laugh to myself. My son, who was not close to me, had filled the void left by his father. After my bleeding labia received their due blessing, I hesitated about the sin I was about to commit... 　　The kiss, from light to heavy, was like the instrument he inserted into my lower body, his tongue in my mouth.

Through this forbidden kiss, the people on the bed finally achieved the most intimate union possible between a man and a woman.
Without any hindrance, we let our budding passion grow unrestrained, until the two
breaths in the space could no longer distinguish which was its master.
This sudden, dizzying tenderness brought my previously stiff limbs back to life, and my
body temperature and heart rate began to rise uncontrollably.
The primal essence of [the being] would quietly and powerfully dominate everything that followed… I have always believed that, apart from [
the fact that] similar reverse [feelings] also occurred in him, I can clearly and arrogantly believe that the piece of flesh that had been
roughly was now becoming thicker and hotter.
I hate myself so much, because while he, my son, was filling the void in my body, he
also made me so vulnerable that I let my emotions overflow, becoming his pink prisoner…
“Look at me, look at me!” I urged him impulsively, demanding that he open his eyes, which had been closed
involuntarily .
I know that doing so is an incredibly difficult thing for a man. But I don’t care, I have to make him
clearly and unequivocally know that the woman into whom he is about to ejaculate a large amount of sperm is indeed his beloved
mother.
And the reason he can do this is all because of my immeasurable maternal love for him.
I watched the whole thing unfold with an air of detachment, as if he were pounding into a woman
unrelated . When I finally swallowed the vortex of incest he had created, I glanced sideways and told myself:
"Receiving my own son's semen...it's not hard at all..."
I tightly closed my vulva, afraid the semen would leak out, carefully feeling the sensation of the semen inside me. The pleasure brought by
incest was so intense... In the bathroom, facing the full-length mirror, my hair disheveled
, my face still flushed, I struck a pose, proud of still being a woman, staring at
the semen sliding down my thighs. Leaning against the mirror, I said to myself, "Little mirror, catch the semen." Originally, I was just tasting it, but later I smeared it on the lips of the person in the mirror.
"You, bad woman, even your own son...did it."
What a reason for this.
After her son came in, a new relationship developed. His eyes held a mixture of arrogance and tenderness. He first engaged in a verbal and eye-to-eye exchange with her
. What do you mean by "it"? I mean the "treasure" I gave him just yesterday.
"Regret?"
"Yes!"
"Me too..."
"I regret it. I should have...been with you the first time you gave me your underwear."
"Hehe, at most...we'll finish him off tonight..."
"Sleep later?"
"No, sleep earlier..."
"Sleep earlier? Then..."
"Hehe, I'll sleep after breakfast..."
"Oh, such a horny mother..."
She reached under my legs and lifted me onto the bed. Just as he was about to move, she turned around and pulled him into the room from
behind , making it clear that it could only be me!
She hugged him tightly: "Help! There's a mother here whose son wants to use this to penetrate him..."
Oh, who will save the poor man? I'm such a bad woman...
I know that the next sentence will affect the rest of my life with him.
Of course, I don't even need to think about what he's doing in his room right now, but you know, there's no
"Come home early after school, Mom will prepare something delicious for you..."
"What delicious... food?"
In fact, while I wasn't home, he did something to my underwear that I had worn, "
How about I feed you... meat... soup?"
We lay together in a specially made porcelain basin, he played with my hair, and I gently stroked his broad chest,
savoring this new relationship between us. Regarding what happened not long ago, I felt less guilty and more desire...
"Really... really?"
Thinking of how coldly I had treated him just now, I felt incredibly
guilty. So, after my skin and mind had been thoroughly steamed by the bathwater, I
lowered my and gently sucked on his back. When he gripped my back tightly as pleasure surged through him, I added
fuel to the fire by moving my hand to his already throbbing member. This time, I wanted a completely unbridled, unrestrained
pleasure.
On this night of complete moral liberation, this "mirror of his" finally became "my
mirror," or rather, "a mirror of me and him"...
I secretly used my willpower to writhe the walls of my flesh, continuously pouring droplets of pleasure into
the part of his body that was inside me, making his body feel like it was connected to a power source of ecstasy. He trembled with difficulty.
At that moment, I made up my mind that after that night, I would not only tame his youthful body, but also ignite his vitality.
Now, I'm still lazily leaning here chatting with you, it's still me, Wenjun.
Hehe, please don't tell me that you finally remembered, that I'm the
middle-aged woman with long hair and a voluptuous figure who passed by that street corner yesterday, with a faint scent of perfume on her body.
Hmm, that's… the most dishonest thing.
On the contrary, if you are so kind, and my story has secretly melted
the belief in your heart, then I want you to slowly lean closer and quietly tell me…
things like a mother and son loving each other, you… haven't even thought about it…
(2)
The next day, when I woke up, it was already noon—I couldn't help it, I
'd stayed up … As I groggily searched around the bed, it suddenly dawned on me that my
elusive underwear was right there, serving its little master. Thinking about
what , a sweet smile crept onto my face.
The morning light didn't bring me a trace of resentment; I was still quite pleased with my near-perfect performance last night
. The only thing troubling me was—should I talk to him face-to-face and settle "that matter"?
Alas, although he had already brazenly swallowed my bait, I still needed to go and unhook him…
Certainly, I could foresee that it would bring me another round of control and domination, but
I was still somewhat apprehensive about the anticipated chaos. After all, it
's always us women who play the victim in such matters, isn't it?
I don't simply believe that the identity of "mother" can truly provide me with any protection. In fact,
judging from the series of moans last night, I'm certain that my true identity might still be a slaughterhouse.
I ruffled my tangled hair, lazily got out of bed, went into the small bathroom, and began my daily grooming
routine. Looking in the mirror, thinking about him who might appear at any moment, my grooming movements were much slower than usual.
"Sigh, I have no future. Every time he puts my legs on his shoulders like that, I just go limp." Frowning, I gave myself an urging look: you must prepare the "reasoning" to say to him as quickly as possible.
What 　　kind of reasoning should I, as his mother, teach him at this critical juncture? I don't know, because it doesn't matter. I thought filthyly, everything I could think of had to be morally incomprehensible to him. 　　Unfortunately, the burgeoning desire that had been brewing all night had completely erased my already lacking alertness. No matter how my mind raced, the same three words kept popping out: "I can." 　　Clearly, such a direct answer would either capture him on the spot or destroy him instantly, and I wasn't willing to take that risk. All the obstacles could be attributed to the cruel tricks of fate—that was certainly possible, otherwise, why would all my intellectual deficiencies be perfectly compensated by desire? 　　"Actually, if he just barged in like that, what lines would I need to prepare? What's presented him is nothing but convenience—a ready-made room, perfect darkness, my mother who just showered, a freshly made bed. I'm just afraid that before I can even utter a word, he'll take advantage of me..." 　　"Why don't I just pretend to be deaf and dumb and let him do as he pleases? He... he either... speaks first, or... after 　　hearing what I said, his expression immediately relaxed a bit. Even so, knowing my personality ... he just goes for it. I just need to follow along, play along, and have some fun." 　　Yes, that was my final conclusion at the time. It's not something you should admire, is it? 　　Finally out of the bathroom, I sat casually at my vanity and started applying makeup. I was still wearing that convenient bathrobe, humming a tune to myself. The song playing was "Double Pillow." Normally a simple tune, but coming from me, flushed with spring fever, it was unusually slow, each phrase jumbled, filled with unspoken meaning. The slightly louder volume clearly revealed my ulterior motives: I had to let the other little one in the room know that, guess what I discovered while taking a bath… my pink underwear, hastily tossed on the pile of clothes , had awakened and… was inviting his approach. At this moment, all I wanted was for him to appear at my doorstep. 　　But… As the waiting time dragged on, the tune I sang became increasingly incoherent. Just as I finally drawing my face, the frustration of waiting almost made me want to drink it right then and there. 　　Before my frustration could turn into anger, a familiar school bell rang from outside. I couldn't muster the energy to scold him, so I couldn't help but chuckle. 　　It was at this moment that I suddenly remembered that today was Friday, my precious son, even though he was a little tired last night... He still has to go to school. 　　On the one hand, it means I have to be a good mother all day; on the other hand, I finally have plenty of time to prepare his after-school lessons for tonight—of course, it'll be 　　related to "being a person. " 　　But what I really want to do right now is something that requires absolutely no thought. Right? With such a good free time, how could I possibly sneak into his room for a "love exploration"? 　　That's necessary. Because, although I don't need any proof, I can be certain that what made him groan last night was definitely not... My stomach hurts. But, if I'm fortunate enough to obtain confirmation of his "crime" last night, then whatever abuse I inflict on him afterward will only be considered an exercise of "disciplinary power," right? 　　Oh, my diligence deserves a reward! 　　Stepping out of the room, I immediately knew he had left, because the keychain that usually sat on the TV was gone. His absence calmed my heart—oh no, I misspoke, it didn't calm me down. Because I was about to do something exciting. 　　As if having an affair, I put down... I tiptoed to his door. Being cautious, I even coughed twice, like a scholar. Honestly, if he had actually jumped out and called me, I wouldn't have known what to say! 　　Half a second later, I realized I'd overreacted. My son, clearly anticipating my grand arrival , hadn't even properly closed the door. 　　He deliberately presented his mother with the entire crime scene, completely intact, practically as if he'd hung a " Welcome to the Scene" sign on it. 　　Yes, the pungent smell that filled the room from the moment I entered... The distinctive smell of the man's semen immediately told me that besides readily admitting all his crimes, he was also eager to be arrested. Clumps of tissues, stained with bodily fluids, surrounded the rumpled blankets. Most of the sheet lay disheveled on the carpet. Everything explained that last night, he hadn't intended to leave any essence. 　　In this small, lewd room, surrounded by the filth and depravity of foreign soil, I felt a lack of oxygen . Half-closing my eyes, I couldn't help but picture a hellish sexual punishment for him. Confined due to his cautious nature, he was the only male in the prison. Lacking female companionship, he could only continuously spray and wipe himself in the air, spray and wipe again… until his organs finally ceased to function. 　　Of course, such intense release of desire was something I hadn't anticipated when I gave him the underwear. 　　But faced with this outcome, I felt no panic; on the contrary, I was quite satisfied with my current harvest. 　　My son, through this room he had deliberately left behind, had provided me with positive guidance on sex.

He responded, and had already granted permission to participate in all subsequent crimes without any conditions, and I was his pre-selected victim.
Did I just say "only a blind man wouldn't see it"? Oh, sorry, I misunderstood.
I should have said "even a blind man would discover its existence," because, stuck to this piece of cloth,
I secretly reminded myself that no matter what happened next, I must not shout it out. Tonight,
besides the wet, sticky feeling, there was also a strong, turbid smell.
A piece of cloth, still sealed with a densely written "letter," a letter that made someone fill their young life with "I want,
I want..." It was like a rag. I guess... at this moment, you are already on the other end, eager to ask me: "Why would you do this to yourself?"
Suddenly receiving such a "letter," written stroke by stroke with a penis, my will was instantly
shattered . As I slumped drowsily into the chair at my desk, the seal on my heart crumbled.
A photograph on the desk, which happened to catch my eye, ignited a fire of passion in the room.
It was a solo photo he'd taken in front of my house not long ago; I was the one who took it. He was only
wearing a vest and shorts, a smug smile on his face.
What I'm about to say is something I don't believe, because such a woman should only exist
in dishonest erotic novels, and I am a living, breathing woman.
Staring intently at the solo photo tucked under the desk, I began, like a stripper engrossed in a performance, to pose in what I considered the most sensual way, exposing every inch of my skin to him.
First of all, the "perfectly fine" you mentioned isn't as "solid" as you imagine. 　　First, there was my snow-white neck. "It's so pink and tender, you want to bite it, right?" I teased the man in the photo in my mind . 　　"Hmm, that's what's so great about young people. Look at him, he just ejaculated, and now... he's hard again 　　." I still wouldn't let the man in the photo go. Just kidding... Finally, um, it's... that place. "You know what? What you want most is also what I want to give you most. Look, it's already..." Heh, I really don't know if he in real life can resist such... temptation. If it were me, I definitely couldn't! 　　The lust that kept rising from my heart could not be covered up by mere words. Still warm , I picked up the precious, ravaged underwear on the table and smeared it haphazardly on my body. In an instant, the semen generated by my imagination began to overflow all over my body... First my face... "It smells so strong! You must have just come in and already shot into it, right?" I teased him, then touched 　　the back of my throat. "Shooting out such a thick load must have exhausted you, right?" I propped him up with one hand, while the other held his stiff, unresponsive member. Next 　　, I touched my cleavage. "Is it just my imagination? It's burning hot..." I refused to accept that it was cold... 　　Finally, well, still... that place, //I believe only naughty children would want to shoot that kind of thing into their mother's vagina. Oh, darling, you can't, you absolutely can't do that. "... Before ..." Sigh, I couldn't help but plead again... 　　The "diaper" I'd given him, once it reached my private parts, refused to leave, because it was so desperately needed. 　　Biting my lower lip, I used the remaining liquid from the cloth to oint my genitals. As my erect clitoris... 　　My other hand, unable to respond to the overwhelming urges of my body, gripped the air tightly. 　　My breath was silently stolen by the lustful spirits lurking around. 　　The devil never gave me a chance to regret, because at this crucial moment, my fingers landed squarely on his crotch... After that moment, his smile remained in the photo, but my composure vanished! 　　I began moving my fingers towards his genitals, first gently, slowly drawing circles. 　　As the condensation blurred his shorts, the hand remaining at his vulva continued its cruelty. 　　With the ever-increasing craving for pleasure, my fingers abandoned the gentle circles, focusing their force and range, roughly rubbing back and forth against his still-flat vulva. What I want, you must know perfectly well… When time, unable to bear witnessing everything, suddenly snapped, my itchy hand finally using them as a nameless flesh spear, and thrust them into my vulva. I never expected to be so cruel to myself … As I fell into the resulting moral decay, I suddenly went mad, lowered my head, and stuck out my tongue...and began to lick. My tongue was so greedy that it could barely pierce the cold glass... 　　You see, I've unwittingly described the situation so vividly that it made you laugh. Perhaps I should go back and only recount the important parts? 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　(To be continued)

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A mother's confession

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