The mother-child relationship is also a way of appreciating life.

I'm 49 years old this year, working in a government agency. I'm a single mother, my son is 26, and he

got married this year. We're living a happy life, with a stable job. I'm not very outgoing, but I'm sensible and polite.
This is my current life.
My story is from the past.
As I mentioned before, I worked in a government agency. As a woman, although I wasn't overly ambitious about official positions,

I was still young then and always tried to seize opportunities. My mindset was one of indifference to success or failure. Even someone like me couldn't escape being sexually harassed because of promotion issues. One reason was that I was a bit pretty, and another was that the then-Minister of Organization liked to talk to women who were about to be promoted, and he sexually harassed a considerable number of female cadres. Of course, in the end, he was also investigated, dismissed from his post, and expelled from the Party.

During the meeting with the organization minister, it was just the two of us. Initially, the minister sat behind his desk, and the conversation was fairly evenly matched. I understood that with a little effort from him, my promotion was practically guaranteed. Then, he started his

underhanded tactics. He went to the sofa where I was sitting, sat very close to me, clapped his hands, then patted my shoulder, and told me there would be another meeting that evening in a certain room at a certain hotel. At that point, even a naive person would understand most of it. But that's precisely what made the decision so difficult. If I didn't go, my promotion would be ruined; if I went, I didn't dare think about what might happen. But the unfortunate thing was a phone call from the minister, ordering me to be there on time. If the minister hadn't called, I would have already decided not to go, but that call was crucial. Not going meant directly offending him; without the call, I could have pretended not to know.

Everyone knows what kind of good thing could happen in a hotel? I lay on the bed like a log, letting the minister have his way with me. Soon after, I was indeed promoted. I felt neither joy nor sorrow. Before the promotion order was announced, the minister came to my house under the pretense of telling me good news, but then tried to assault me again. At that time, some of us cadres lived in the municipal government dormitory compound, which had been built shortly after liberation. Most of the municipal government cadres were demobilized soldiers whose families didn't live locally,

so they had to build a large compound for everyone to live in. The minister was only two minutes from his office to my house, which was convenient. But just as he was undressing me and entangled me in bed, my son came home from school. He opened the door and saw me and the minister naked. We hurriedly dressed, and the minister ran away covering his face, but I had to face my seven-year-old son.
Soon after, my husband learned from our son what had happened between me and the minister. When our son was ten, I

divorced his father. His father went abroad and we rarely contacted each other. His presence was almost nonexistent in our lives, so in our son's world, his father's place was practically empty. For so many years, we've relied on each other, and we've rarely talked about his father.
My indecent behavior deeply affected my son. During his puberty, he began spying on my body,

especially when I was showering or changing clothes, always feeling like his eyes were fixed on me. Later, he would intentionally or unintentionally rub my breasts,
making me feel anxious. He would intentionally or unintentionally touch my genitals and even ejaculate on my underwear and high heels, leaving a strong smell of his male hormones.
I noticed his abnormal behavior and initially panicked, not knowing how to handle it or who

to consult, so I kept it to myself, essentially letting him continue down this path. At its worst, he brazenly patted my buttocks, which were only covered by my panties, hugged me, lifted my bra to look at and suckle my breasts, and eventually, he violated me like a minister, stripping me naked. He would look at my body like he was admiring prey, then pounce on me like a tiger, penetrating my vagina. When he ejaculated inside me, I felt that only the semen

inside my vagina was warm; the rest of my body was ice cold. He was eighteen years old when we had sex. When it first happened, I was filled with endless regret and lost all hope in life. I sat crying in the bathroom for a long time.
Afterward, I tried my best to communicate with my son patiently, afraid that he would feel the same burden as me and it would interfere with

his studies.
Later, my son and I gradually calmed down, and when we had sex again, we became natural and enjoyed it.

The most memorable time was when my son celebrated my birthday. He made me wear my most sexy and beautiful clothes and even carefully did my makeup. I had just turned forty at the time. After I finished dressing up, my son's eyes lit up, and he praised his mother as a very charming and beautiful woman. When we lit the birthday candles and looked into each other's eyes through the cake, we felt like a couple in love.

That night, my son carried me to bed. I felt as happy as a newlywed. After he took off my sexy outer clothes, I was wearing a thong and lingerie that he had carefully chosen. When we kissed,
the subtle yet profound feminine scent emanating from me intoxicated him. We naturally fell together. He lifted my lingerie, revealing my breasts, which he treasured. He greedily sucked and bit them, and the nerves

connecting vagina caused a flood of fluids. I had prepared the gate of life for my son, which was also the gate of love. As I trembled, my son's penis returned to the place where he had struggled to express himself. When he came out, I felt the joy and pain of giving birth to a new life; when he returned, he gave me nothing but deep love and affection. His thrusts ignited all my passion. I hugged him tightly, wishing I could merge him into my body

to release the maternal love and deep affection that had gathered within me. My toes curled up desperately, a way of telling my son of my intense longing, hoping his final thrust would push me to the peak of bliss. My son came, and the masculine aggression felt so wonderful. Finally, in that blissful anticipation, I came, soaring freely to the heavens. We, mother

and son, found pleasure in sex. Since our physical intimacy, he's become like a little man, wanting to protect and take care of me. Even now, he still cares for me.
Afterwards, my son, having tasted the sweetness, and I continued this relationship. Soon, my son went to university in Beijing, not far from home. He could come home every week, and we would make love passionately, but we tried to

control the frequency.
After experiencing dormitory life, his horizons broadened, his attention shifted, and he encountered new
things in society, gaining new experiences. By his junior year, he had a girlfriend, and to prevent future trouble,
my son and I completely stopped physical contact. After that, my son worked, dated, and got married—all smoothly.

Now that he lives alone in his own house, he still visits me often and calls me at least once a day to check on me, sharing some of the most private things in his life.
I don't want to argue about our mother-son relationship. Of course, society shouldn't approve of this kind of relationship; we should have normal life paths. People should just be more objective and not resort to insults and condemnation like some others.

This kind of relationship is also life, an experience, a unique perspective. Some people walk this path, some walk that path—it's all life. Humanity needs tolerance and objectivity. To those who have already experienced or are still struggling with this, I also advise them to face life squarely and live optimistically.
(End of text)

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/29772.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=29772&aspx=1

Previous Page : Sister Complex 1-4

Next Page : Hypnotic Glasses: Spring Festival Joy (Completed)

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

The mother-child relationship is also a way of appreciating life.

comment Open a new window to view comments