Incidents 1-4

"

When you get out, be a good person, and act rationally, don't be impulsive," Officer Gao said.

I nodded without saying a word, picked up my luggage, and walked towards the gate. With a bang, the high gate slammed shut
. I took a deep breath; the air outside was so much fresher. I was free. To be precise,
because of good behavior, I was released a month early. Although it was only a month,
I didn't want to stay in that cell for another second.

Soon I arrived at my home, which I had left over a year ago. The door was ajar. I suppressed my excitement and pushed it open.
The house was exactly as I had left it. Seeing all this familiarity made me feel warm and comforted. No one was in the living room, but I could hear
the sounds of cooking and hushed conversation coming from the kitchen. I walked to the kitchen doorway, and they saw me too, their faces full of
surprise .

"Haha, aren't you surprised?" I laughed heartily.

My mother and wife hesitated for a moment, then quickly cheered and screamed. I opened my arms, and my wife lightly jumped into
my embrace. My mother said into the phone, "Okay, don't come today. Goodbye." She hung up,
chuckling softly as she watched me from a distance.

I carried my wife around the living room a couple of times before putting her down, inhaling her long-lost fragrance, and unconsciously
tightened .

"Honey, let's sit on the sofa, are you tired from the journey?"

"Honey, you've suffered so much, you've lost so much weight."

I watched my wife chatter on and on, listening quietly to her clear, melodious voice.
Although I had served over a year in prison because of her, I didn't regret it, because protecting one's woman is a man's duty.

Over a year ago, I went to pick up my wife from her company. I saw a young man relentlessly harassing Xiaoyu. I
saw Xiaoyu frowning and trying to avoid him, but he persisted, even reaching out to grab my wife. I rushed over and gave that
young man a good beating. This bastard, though tall and strong, was just an empty shell. I knew I didn't
kill him, but he still broke three ribs. Even if he wasn't a complete fool, he wouldn't be a match for me. I learned martial arts from my grandfather since I
was , and later served as a special forces soldier for several years. Taking on several people unarmed is a piece of cake.

The other party's family has some influence, and I was the one who started the fight and injured someone. So they charged me with intentional assault.
Luckily, I contacted my former superior, and I was sentenced to a year and a half. Although the price was high, I don't regret it
. What kind of man can't even protect his own woman? But prison life has taught me a lesson. Next time, I need to be more careful about how I do things,
at least not in public, with so many eyewitnesses.

"Oh, I've been talking to you. I'll go get you a cup of tea." My wife got up and walked towards the kitchen.

I leaned against the sofa, my gaze following my wife's pert, round buttocks. After abstinence for so long, my penis was uncooperatively
erect. Seeing that it was still early, I suppressed my emotions.

My wife was wearing a super short white t-shirt today. The pure white color was somewhat transparent, and you could vaguely see the skin
underneath . The length only reached her ribs, revealing her flat stomach and cute belly button. Her breasts were perky and stretched
her clothes , and wow, she wasn't wearing a bra; her nipples were clearly visible. She wore denim
shorts, which seemed a little small, tight and perfectly showcasing the curves of her hips, with no visible
panty lines.

Hmm, why isn't my conservative mother saying anything to my wife anymore? My mother wore a floral print mini-dress that
reached with black stockings. Wow, Mom's dressed so fashionably now.

In the kitchen, my wife and mother were talking quietly. My wife would occasionally tug at my mother's hand affectionately, and my mother would playfully pinch
my wife's cheek, as if teasing her. I couldn't help but wonder when
their relationship had become so good. Before, they didn't argue, but they would still chat with me occasionally, their
interactions more like guests. Now, it was even more than mother and daughter; they were like close sisters.

While I was happy to see their good relationship, I couldn't help but be a little curious. I couldn't help but
prick up my ears to eavesdrop on their conversation, but their voices were so soft that it was barely murmured. I could
only vaguely . "...They've already made a phone call..." "You're so annoying!"

"Xiaoyu, who are you calling annoying?" I asked loudly.

My wife seemed startled when she realized I had overheard her. Seeing me smiling at her, she
patted her chest and said, "I said you're annoying, eavesdropping on our conversation."

"Yeah, it's a women's topic, why are you so nosy?" my mother chimed in.

Seeing that they were united, I quickly surrendered and changed the subject: "What are we having for lunch?"

"You won't go hungry," the two women said in unison, then giggled.

In the evening, it finally reached nine o'clock. I tugged at my wife, who was watching a soap opera. She looked at me blankly
. Suddenly, she understood what I meant, and a blush crept onto her face. She turned to look at my mother, who said, "I
'm especially sleepy today, I'm going to rest early." Then she leisurely went back to her room.

I scooped up my wife and carried her to the bedroom amidst her gasps. I slammed the door shut,
threw onto the bed, and hurriedly began undressing.

"Don't be in such a rush," my wife said sweetly.

"How can I not be? I've been holding back for so long!" I couldn't help but swear.

"Heh heh, serves you right for being so impulsive next time."

I ignored her, pounced on her, and kissed her lips, one hand caressing her breasts. My mouth
chased manipulated her nipples until they stood erect. Xiaoyu responded passionately,
her arms around my neck. I lifted her short t-shirt and buried my face in her snow-white breasts, sucking on them. My hand also
played with her other breast, changing its shape in my hands. The kneading
released the pent-up desire I'd been suppressing for over a year, and I suddenly remembered she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Why don't you wear a bra? Mom doesn't say anything."

"It's hot in the summer, and Mom and I are really close. You wouldn't understand, women hate this thing the most in the summer."

I reached down, unbuttoned my shorts, ripped them off, and tossed them aside
. Underneath was a tiny lace thong, the narrow strip of fabric barely visible through the folds—no wonder there were no
panty lines.

"Didn't you used to refuse to wear thongs?"

"They were uncomfortable before, but I got used to them after a while, and they go well with clothes. With tight clothes, you can't see
any lines ."

I slapped her pert buttocks hard. "You slut, who am I dressing up for when I'm not home?"

My wife protested. "I'm not dressing up for anyone else. I always wear a suit when I'm out."

I pulled down her tiny thong and reached between her legs. It was wet. My finger
slipped inside her, and Xiaoyu let out a muffled groan. I rubbed her clitoris with my thumb and stirred her vagina with my middle finger.

With each movement, her juices flowed freely.

Suddenly, I felt something was wrong, but I couldn't figure it out. I looked up between my wife's legs
—it was completely bare. Damn, she's gone. A wave of panic washed over me. What was going on?

"Why are you missing your pubic hair?" I asked her in a low voice.

"Wh...what? I shaved it."

"Why shave if there's nothing wrong?"

"Ah, well, Mom said that women are less likely to get gynecological diseases if they shave their body hair."

"That?"

"Hmm."

My mind inexplicably conjured up images of my mother's legs encased in black stockings, her constantly fluttering short skirt, and
the mysterious area that appeared and disappeared. Was it also...? I shook my head, not daring to imagine it anymore.

I leaned against the headboard and lay down, holding my wife in my arms. My arms tightened, and my wife understood what I
meant . She stretched out her small, fragrant tongue and began to lick my nipples, sucking and licking them from time to time, gently tugging

and biting them with her teeth. I half-closed my eyes, savoring the woman's service, the pleasurable feeling surging through my nerves.

My hand stroked my wife's hair, gently pushing her head down, and my wife glared at me.

Her tongue rolled around on my body, slowly sliding down. I felt a wetness on my penis, and my tongue
swept , slowly moving to my scrotum, gently touching it. Suddenly, her lips enveloped one of my testicles, gently sucking,
her tongue sweeping across my scrotum. This sudden attack made my penis twitch. Xiaoyu buried her head between my legs,
intently servicing my testicles. Watching the woman beneath me so focused, a sense of conquest, like a man's,
welled up within me .

My wife slowly moved up and enveloped my penis in her mouth, her tongue circling the coronal sulcus, occasionally gliding over
the urethral opening. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed oral sex from my wife, though it seemed she hadn't always been this skilled.

Did this thing also require sudden enlightenment? Waves of tingling pleasure washed over me, interrupting my thoughts as I succumbed
to desire.

My hands, which had been gently stroking her head, now gripped her hair tightly, veins bulging, and my breathing became
rapid and labored . My wife, in turn, increased the frequency of her sucking, rapidly rubbing her scrotum with her small hands.

"Ah,"

my wife's small mouth tightly enveloped mine, her head buried deep between my legs, waiting motionless for my ejaculation. Seeing
my attempt to pull away, she gripped my thighs tightly with both arms, preventing me from moving.

I stared in disbelief as my wife swallowed the semen, even licking her lips afterward.

"Why did you swallow it all?"

"What? Don't you like it?"

"I like it, but..."

"That was before. I was just rewarding you for working so hard!"

I was touched and wanted to hug my wife, but she gently pushed my hands away. "Your mission isn't
finished yet," she said, winking mischievously at me, teasing my half-dead penis before burying her face in it and
stroking it again.

My wife skillfully teased it a few times, and my penis slowly rose. Ignoring the remaining
liquid , she opened her small mouth and took it in, looking at me with alluring eyes. Seeing me staring at her without any shyness,
she bravely met my gaze. Seeing this different side of her, my penis filled her small mouth completely.

I let out a low growl and turned my wife over. He aimed the gun at her delicate flower and thrust it in.

There was plenty of vaginal fluid; his wife showed no discomfort, only letting out a soft moan.

Both of

them said marriage had a seven-year itch, which I always thought was nonsense, and now I still think so.

My love with Xiaoyu was like the changing seasons—sprouting in spring and bearing fruit in autumn—everything happened so
naturally . I met her before I went to military academy; back then, she was a bookish student. When I, the school bully, suddenly appeared before her, her pale face, contorted with fear, seemed to pierce my chest
like a bullet . At that moment, I knew I would marry no one but her. So, when we got into fights, I was nowhere to be found; I was constantly dragging my cronies for advice, relentlessly pursuing their cobbled-together, terrible ideas. This also brought me an unexpected reward: the principal praised my reformed ways, removing all the disciplinary actions and writing glowing comments.远离了打架斗殴，远离了激情四射的小太妹，开始了我的纯情初恋。是初恋，虽然早已经不是处男了，但是在筱雨身上第一次感到初恋心灵的悸动。晚上辗转难眠，白天瞌睡连天。时刻关注着她的一颦一笑，偶尔一次微微的皱了眉头，我都心焦不已。不知道自己哪里唐突了佳人。难得拿起笔的我破天荒的写起了情书，可恨文学细胞太少咬烂了笔头也写不满半张纸。把班上的才子强掳来，威逼加利诱，不写挨打写了帮他揍欺负他的小瘪三。才子勉为其难的捉刀了一篇，华丽辞藻锦绣文章看的我牙齿都酸倒了。只好布置手下小弟每人一星期一篇，高考时兄弟伙语文成绩大幅提高这却是始料不及的。在我像火一样猛烈的追求中，在隔绝了其他众多追求者的骚扰。 Xiaoyu gradually lowered the fence of indifference and opened the dam of her heart. By the river and in the woods, her unrestrained laughter was as clear as silver bells, revealing that even this ice queen had playful little actions and mischievous pranks. I was adrift in this river of love, happy yet too afraid to trespass. After what seemed like an eternity, I trembled with fear and tentatively grasped her small hand. A tingling, electric sensation coursed through my body, and my steps became unsteady. Seeing her blushing, shy face, I mustered my courage and held her hand tightly, never letting go. From our first holding hands to our first kiss, everything was filled with excitement, clumsiness, and helplessness. Everything was like a first-timer's pilgrimage, proceeding step by step in the most traditional way. Later, she also applied to a university in the same city as me, and the way I called her changed from a lovesick fool to a married woman.

Husband, though I still occasionally miss her sweet, crisp "Silly Man," she says playfully, "I
'll call you 'Husband,' because you're mine alone." How could I refuse? We're mutually
dependent in our marriage. She acts like a little girl, throwing tantrums and being affectionate, and I love her innocent charm. This is also
why my mother and I used to have a strained relationship. My mother always said I spoiled her too much, and I just smiled foolishly.
My mother said sons grow up and are no longer under their mothers' control, so I flattered her even more. It's like a happy dilemma; I
always manage to play both sides. I don't know how I, who am not good at handling interpersonal relationships, can mediate so well.

I only realized it in prison: it's because they love me and enjoy my clumsy performances. Now they're
as close as sisters, perhaps because of the bond we built up while supporting and encouraging each other in prison
.

What more could I ask for? I only wish I wouldn't be so impulsive in the future, and that I would think things through more carefully so
I can enjoy this family bliss for longer.

In prison, I constantly missed them—my mother's love and my wife's gentleness. And yesterday, my wife's passionate
tenderness proved it; she, too, missed me constantly. Our intimacy before, though
a union of body and soul, always lacked passion; everything was done step by step. A kiss, undressing—
simple prelude, and my wife's deliberately suppressed moans. If I made even the slightest request
that was too much, my wife would blush and call me shameless. Although I liked my wife's ladylike behavior, when I recalled the wild
figures , I would greedily imagine
what it would be like if my wife's pure face were paired with wild and lewd actions.

Despite my repeated requests and sweet talk, my wife only dabbled in those unconventional actions. Occasionally
, when she saw my dejected look, my wife would clumsily manipulate my penis with a frown, her rosy lips hesitantly
swaying beside me. Seeing my distressed expression, she would quickly lick the glans with her fragrant tongue. Finally, she would
reluctantly take it into her mouth, watching me grimace as her teeth scraped against it. Angrily, she would spit it out,
slap my stomach, and say, "I told you I can't do it, I don't want it." I could only hug her again, coaxing and comforting her, continuing
this arduous journey.

A new life began, and new encounters followed. The harmonious mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship, though somewhat strange
, was genuinely loving towards each other; what more could I ask for? And my wife's passion in bed was like a fine, aged
wine, passionate and mellow, giving me experiences I had never had before. Her fair and dignified face, her sweat-drenched skin,
the glistening, splashing love juice, and her joyful moans. Like a fallen angel, her face flushed from overexertion
, her beautiful eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling slightly. A mixture of sanctity and lust, like a
union of angel and devil, captivated me. Like a boy experiencing sex for the first time, I could never get enough. That
night, I made love four times, wanting to release all the passion in my heart at once. Looking at my wife's tired body, though
she still stubbornly wanted to satisfy my long-absent desires, I knew at that moment that her love for me was intense, that she
was open to me and willing to give everything. And how could I bear to be selfish? In my semi-forced act,
we embraced tightly and fell into a sweet sleep.

******************

In the following days, I didn't rush to find work, preparing to rest for a while and plan my future
. My previous job was terminated due to imprisonment, but I wasn't worried about money for the time being. I had a
secret stash of money, a special allowance from my years of military service, and after checking, I still had over 100,000 yuan left. This
put my mind at ease. A grown man can't really ask a woman for money, even though we're family. Maybe it's just my chauvinistic
pride acting up.

My wife is a white-collar worker at a large company, working a regular nine-to-five job. I've noticed that she always
goes out in dark-colored office lady outfits, making her look somewhat mature. Only when she comes home does she dress
fashionably and revealingly, like a little enchantress. My wife hasn't changed much; in front of others, she's still
that aloof, icy beauty. A sense of superiority arises from this. This perfect, elegant, and dignified
woman—only I can see her wanton side. I'm so lucky.

My mother owns a clothing store in the commercial district. I occasionally go there; everything is managed by the store manager. When I was in high school,
my father divorced because of his mistress. An older man experiencing a second spring, his emotional impulses were astonishing. He declared
he'd give up everything just to get a divorce and be with his delicate mistress. My mother, who initially didn't want a divorce, also lost heart. She never
imagined that twenty years of relationship could crumble before youthful passion. So, without any arguments, the two went to the Civil Affairs Bureau
to agree to a divorce. They did divide their property, though I'm not entirely sure of the specifics, but it was a relatively amicable separation.

My mother was devastated and depressed for a while, spending about a month
drinking alcohol , becoming a complete alcoholic. At the time, I was busy out partying, and seeing the house deserted
, I came home even later. During her most difficult period, I didn't think to care for or comfort her, and I've always felt guilty about it.

Thankfully, after a month, my mother recovered. She stopped drinking and often met up with the women in the community
to play cards . My mother, who never played cards before, became addicted to mahjong and seemed to have truly forgotten about my father.

I initially thought my father was just acting impulsively and would soon realize how good his wife was. But things
don't according to plan. My father
, like an old tree blossoming with joy, had a daughter, and there was no going back. Women can't live without men, just as men can't live without women. Having tasted love for the first time, I understood that my mother still needed someone to
care for . But I could never bring myself to bring it up with her. Although I understand all this,
the thought of a stranger coming to my house still makes my heart clench and ache, let alone the thought of me bringing it up myself.

Thankfully, my mother doesn't seem to have any such thoughts; perhaps she's lost faith in men. She just
plays mahjong, then opened a clothing store, but her main focus remains on mahjong. She doesn't pay attention to her appearance anymore
. A once mature and beautiful woman, she just casually ties her hair up and throws on clothes without a second thought, let alone putting on makeup.

As a result, my mother has transformed from an elegant and intellectual beauty into an ordinary middle-aged woman.

Her mahjong skills have also made her a renowned mahjong master in the community. Now, my mother is paying attention to her appearance again.
With appropriate light makeup and trendy, form-fitting clothes, my mother, in her forties, looks ten years younger. The few
crow's feet have faded, and her face has a healthy rosy glow. Even when my mother was younger, her
clothing was always very conservative; she would never wear anything even slightly revealing. But since I came back, in just a few days, a dazzling array of outfits has
appeared before me. My mother-in-law and I, mother and daughter-in-law, displayed a dazzling array of stockings—black, purple, white
, fishnet, sheer, patterned—floral skirts, denim shorts, and low-cut tank tops. They looked
like two young sisters vying for attention. Women dress to please themselves; my wife has me, but what about my mother? I know there's a reason for all this
.

I'm relieved that my mother has a positive attitude and has regained her vibrant energy. But
a nameless , and I know it's unsolvable. How can I explain it, or even begin to talk about it?

I've been back for a few days now, but my mother hasn't mentioned it. My wife and mother
probably , but they haven't told me either. Am I being paranoid? It seems I should ask her directly.
It's not interference, but women in love are blind, and I don't want her to get hurt. I'm
willing to protect either of them with my life.

Today

is the fourth day since I came back. When I woke up, it was already 9:30. The weather outside was beautiful, with sunlight
streaming through the window and filling the entire bedroom. People really can't stay idle; once they do, they become lazy.
I've slept in for several days in a row. Well, thankfully, I got up an hour early today. I couldn't help it; I've been chatting late every night for the
past few days , and my friends are very concerned about where I've been for the past year. To
those who don't know the truth, I told them I was doing construction work in the Northwest. This drew a lot of criticism, with people saying, "Is the West some kind of ancient history
?" Hearing these words warmed my heart.

My wife has already gone to work, and there's no other sound at home. My mother has probably gone out too. After washing up,
I turned on the computer and prepared to go to the kitchen to find something to eat. As I passed my mother's room, I heard
voices coming from inside, like she was on the phone. The door was closed, and I stopped, inexplicably wanting to listen.
It wasn't that I had any lewd thoughts; in my memory, my mother never hid her phone calls from me,
let alone behind closed doors. The voices weren't loud, seemingly deliberately suppressed, but I could still make out
the gist of it by pressing my ear against the door.

"Didn't I tell you? My son's back." There was a hint of coquettishness in her tone, though I wasn't sure if it was
just my imagination.

"Yes, I want to keep him company; he must be suffering in there."

"Ugh, you're so mean, you're talking nonsense." Then came a burst of giggling, I don't know what she was saying on the phone
that made her laugh so hard.

It must be that man on the phone; I guess I wasn't wrong. Judging from their tone, their relationship
seemed quite close, but why didn't she tell me? Was she afraid I'd object?

"I've been thinking about it, hmm..."

"I think I'll come see you this afternoon."

"Okay then."

...

I didn't listen any further, seeing how obedient my mother was to that man. I was certain of my
suspicions, and felt a mix of emotions. Although it was a little awkward, elders also have the right to pursue their own happiness.

I shouldn't oppose this; that would be too selfish. I don't know what that man is like, but
I imagine he's a refined middle-aged man, most likely an intellectual, dignified, and somewhat
bookish man who has won my mother's heart. That's fine too; he has a certain taste in life and can
treat people peacefully. My mother's late-life romance is a relatively ideal situation; otherwise,
I wouldn't agree to repeat the tragedy of her previous marriage. I'll find an opportunity to bring it up with my mother without being abrupt, so she can be open about it and
know that her son supports her pursuit of happiness.

I cooked a bowl of noodles in the kitchen, and was almost finished eating... My mother's bedroom door opened, and I saw
her wearing a brown knitted jacquard vest dress. The large stitches revealed a light-colored strapless bra underneath.

The neckline was very low, showing off the fullness of her upper breasts, and she wore a thin platinum necklace.
She wore a short, floral pleated skirt that reached her hips, revealing glimpses of lace panties. Black stockings
covered her thighs, and she wore extremely high, thin heels.

Seeing that I was up, my mother looked somewhat surprised. I didn't speak; I was speechless,
stunned . Although I had become somewhat immune to fashionable outfits these past few days, this provocative
and impactful clothing, and the image of a young and beautiful woman, left me speechless.
My mother didn't speak either, and we stared at each other for about half a minute.

"Why are you up so early today?"

"Well, I've been sleeping well these past few days."

"That's true, you should go out and have some fun, don't just stay cooped up at home."

"Mom, you look so beautiful today."

"I'm an old woman, why are you still making me happy?"

"Of course I am, people will definitely think you're only thirty."

"Stop talking nonsense, did you hear me talking to you? Don't always stay cooped up at home, go out and relax."

"I just want to stay home, with you all, I've missed you so much for so long."

"Oh, silly child, how old are you? I'm going out for a bit, you can take care of lunch yourself, I'll cook you something delicious tonight
."

"Mom..."

"Hmm, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Okay, I'm leaving then."

...

Bang, the door slammed shut. I slumped into the chair, all my strength gone. I had just wanted to tell my mother, "
Go and bravely find your own happiness, your son will support you." But seeing her attire and excited expression,
I couldn't bring myself to say anything. A sudden unease crept into my heart, and I tried to think of something but
couldn't come up with a solution.

I don't know how long I pondered, but my phone rang, startling me awake. It was my childhood friend
, Wang Fei, calling. Back in middle school, he was my chief strategist; he
devised . That guy was full of mischief; he could come up with a brilliant, insidious idea with just a glance. Unfortunately, he was a coward.
He's terrified of blood; he faints at the sight of it. Although he's a bit of a coward in this respect, his strengths outweigh his weaknesses, making him a key member of the team.

"Brother Liang, I just found out you're out. I wanted to visit you yesterday, but I was worried your mother wouldn't be happy." "

It's okay, I just got out too. I'll come over whenever I'm free." My mother has
always had a problem with my high school friends, considering them all unreliable hooligans. She doesn't seem to realize that her
son is the real hooligans.

"Okay, I'll sort out what I'm doing and then come find you. Brother Liang, we've missed
you terribly. I'm going to find some girls and give you a good time."

"Get lost, I haven't messed around in ages. Haha," I added, "I miss my brothers too
."

There was no rest after hanging up. My friends all knew I was back and
called to say hello. Especially Tiger, who called, saying he wanted to follow me now that I was back. Tiger
was my closest buddy back then, and he'd taken a knife for me more than once. But everything was still in the works,
and I couldn't readily agree to his request. We weren't young and naive anymore; everyone had families to support. When I
mentioned family, Tiger, this burly man, started sobbing on the phone. He'd had a
rough . While I was in the army at military academy, Tiger's family went south to do business. At first, things were good; they made a lot of money,
and had a house, a car, a wife, and children. But then disaster struck. Tiger's father was swindled by Taiwanese, the company
went bankrupt, and his father fell ill, draining the family's last savings. After his father's death, Tiger, lacking his father
's abilities, became increasingly destitute. For his wife and children, he gritted his teeth and became a henchman for a boss, essentially returning to his old ways.

That was bad enough, though dangerous—could it be more dangerous than mining? Life was
going on until he noticed something was wrong with his wife. He hired a private investigator, and sure enough, she was having
an affair. When I heard that, I knew it was the same old bullshit. I asked him how he handled it and if he needed
his brother's help. He sobbed and said, "Never mind, it's for the kids." I was furious. I told him, "Tiger
, why are you such a coward?" He hesitated, so I interrupted him and told him to come over and explain things clearly before
making any decisions.

After that call, my mood didn't improve at all. First, my wife was harassed, and I got into jail for fighting
back . Tiger's actions were even worse—he was cheated on and didn't dare retaliate
. Is he even a man? Even if he has his reasons, does he just let these scumbags and adulterers go free? I was so angry at lunch that
I didn't eat anything , just haphazardly stuffing some food around the house. The private investigator Tiger mentioned kept swirling in my mind.
In this society where morals are declining, there must be a huge market for them. When I was younger, I also messed around with women.
Men often can't control their lower bodies. I only stopped messing around after finding my true love. This project is
promising and suits my profession perfectly; counter-surveillance and dealing with ordinary people are child's play.

I stayed in my room, planning this project, making a list of all the equipment I needed. By the
time I finished, it was already evening. I packed up my things and was about to go to the gym when I heard the door open.
My mother rushed into her bathroom. The sound of the shower filled the air, and
a wave of disgust washed over me. She must have been with that man. I didn't want to think about it; maybe it was the
hot . After hearing about Tiger's experience today, I felt inexplicably disgusted by these clandestine relationships.
Why couldn't they establish a relationship before doing these things? Why couldn't they let their children know? Was there
something shameful about it?

I took a deep breath and leaned back on the bed to relax. I slapped myself hard.
How could I think so maliciously, especially since it was my own mother? A flicker of doubt and anger clouded
my judgment; I needed to calm down.

After a long while, I heard the door to my mother's room open, followed by her calling my name.
Inexplicably, I didn't answer, lying in bed pretending to sleep. I opened my eyes slightly and saw my mother, wrapped in a bath towel, standing at
my doorway. Seeing me asleep, she let out a deep sigh of relief and
walked towards her own bedroom.

I didn't want to think about the reason for her deep sigh and continued to lie back in bed. A moment later, I heard her making a phone call again from her room .
The door wasn't closed, and the sound wasn't quiet. I strained my ears to hear what it was. "You're so annoying, insisting on doing it there today. Several times people came in, I was terrified." "Wouldn't it be better in the room, honey, brother, dad?" "Mmm, so much, it's all leaking out." "Hehe, you're disgusting..." Hearing my mother's voice, like a little girl's coquettishness, struck me like a thunderbolt, a sound . Every pore on my body seemed to stand on end. My mother's words echoed in my mind, and I couldn't hear anything more. "How could this be? How could this be?" I murmured. No matter the circumstances, I couldn't imagine my sacred mother uttering such vulgar words, and saying them so smoothly, her shy tone more like lovers' banter. Yes, they were lovers. But I couldn't bear the thought of that pristine image crumbling in my mind. The sounds from the room continued, occasionally punctuated by faint moans. I couldn't distinguish them ; my blood rushed to my head, accompanied by a suffocating feeling of oxygen deprivation. "I really can't moan, it's disgusting." "No, I can't say it." "I wasn't home before, now I feel guilty saying it." "She's asleep, what if she wakes up?" "It's so exciting, my husband doesn't want her anymore." "Hmm, I'm wet." "You really want to moan?" The mother seemed hesitant. "Good son, son, come and fuck your mother." "I only want you, my good son." "Hmm, I'm already touching down there." "Hmm, it's never enough, just thinking about you makes me wet." "It's inside... Ah!" I couldn't listen anymore, because I was shamefully hard. In the past years, I had always accepted...

Raised with traditional ethics, I am essentially a traditional person. A loving mother and child, brotherly affection, and a
respectful are the norm for a normal life. In the past, I would
scoff at news reports of incest abroad, seeing it as no different from bestiality.

But with just a few words, the person I cherished was shattered, and my cherished spiritual world collapsed. Destruction
is always easier than construction. The image of her who cared for me as a child, who scolded me for my mistakes, and
who cried when I was hurt, blurred in an instant. I felt the once close, blood-related connection
had become as vast as an insurmountable chasm. It wasn't just because of her shameless, lewd words; I blame myself
for being so vulnerable. I should only feel anger and shame, but now I also have desires—anger
mixed with desire and self-reproach. Heh, I'm not exactly a person of unwavering integrity. I
seem to have succumbed to this indirect stimulation of desire. What words can I still say to anyone?

It was already dark, and the room was silent. I sat up somewhat dazedly,
suddenly feeling a cool, damp sensation between my legs. I sighed dejectedly. Just as I was wondering
what , the door opened, followed by my wife's frantic shout,

"It's so hot! It's so hot! Go take a shower!"

Seeing me sitting on the bed, my panting wife waved me off and went into the bathroom. A bang followed by
the sound of the safety lock clicking, and the rustling of running water could be heard from inside. Still lost in thought, I ignored all of this.

The atmosphere at dinner was a little heavy, or perhaps it was just my imagination. I secretly peeked at
my mother several times, but couldn't discern anything amiss on her face. The topic of work came up again at the dinner table. "Xiao Liang,
what kind of work are you planning to do next?"

"Yes, what do you want to do, honey?" my wife asked.

"I haven't decided yet," I said nonchalantly.

"How about going on a trip to relax?" my mother suggested.

"Who are you going with?" I asked deliberately.

"I can't leave. I have a case at work, and I'll have to work overtime lately."

I looked at my mother. "What's the point of going with an old woman like me? I'm thinking of expanding the shop."

What does she mean? Does she think I'm in the way at home? I had a bad feeling. But I quickly dismissed
the thought. My mother probably has a lover but isn't ready to tell me yet. How could it be the two of them...? I
couldn't help but curse myself for being shameless. How could my mind become so dark?

After dinner, the two of them went to the living room to watch a soap opera. They huddled together,
whispering and playfully fighting. I wasn't interested in participating. I stayed in my room, surfing the internet, thinking to myself
. I had to get to the bottom of this tomorrow.

My wife came home to sleep. I turned around and saw that her hair was a little messy, and her clothes were pulled down
a bit . These two really know how to have fun. Her fair breasts were faintly visible, and a strand of hair clung to the corner of her mouth. My inner
desire surged, wanting to release all the stimulation I'd experienced today.

I swept her up in my arms and kicked the door shut. I pushed my wife onto the bed and roughly pulled up her
tank top . My hands kneaded her soft, white breasts, my teeth gently biting her bright red nipples. My wife,
startled, recovered, her arms opening comfortably, a soft moan escaping her lips.

My hands roamed over her beautiful body, kissing her neck, earrings, and cheeks. When my mouth
returned to her firm breasts, I suddenly noticed a large bruise.

"What happened to your breast? How did you get this bruise?"

"Ah... Why are you being so rough? I bumped into something, it hurts so much, honey."

"Oh."

"Don't say anything, come on." She then spread her legs, her foot gently hooking around my waist.

Hearing my wife's call, I didn't care about foreplay anymore. My penis slid into her opening,
going all the way in without any resistance. Her vagina was dripping wet, and with each thrust, it brought out more and more fluid, splashing onto the sheets.

I was a little surprised by my wife's wetness and blurted out, "You slut, why are you so wet today?" As soon as I said it
, I regretted it; my wife didn't like me using vulgar language.

"You slut missed your husband, fuck me now."

My usually dignified and elegant wife had shed her mask and was unusually wild in bed. In a fit of rage, I
continued to verbally abuse my wife.

"You little bitch, tell me why there's so much fluid in your cunt. Did you clean yourself in the bathroom?"

"No, you just washed yourself."

I hoisted Xiaoyu's long legs onto my shoulders and thrust in and out hard, each time
penetrating deeply to the bottom. My wife's expression changed with my movements, her brows furrowing and her face contorting with a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"My husband fucks me so hard, he's practically fucking my heart!" Xiaoyu yelled.

"You slut, you still want to be fucked?"

"No, without your permission, this little bitch wouldn't dare."

"Husband, lift up a bit, I want to see your cock going in and out of my pussy."

I did as she said, lifting myself up a little. Xiaoyu stared adoringly at our point of contact, gently caressing the point
of contact , then inserting her slender middle finger into her vagina. Her thumb rubbed her clitoris. Because of Xiaoyu
's finger, her vagina tightened even more, tightly gripping my penis, like a thousand tiny mouths
sucking.

...

The next day, I bought some necessary tools and returned home. There was some movement in my mother's bedroom, so I slowly and
quietly walked over. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see the scene on the bed from the outside. My mother
was lying on the bed talking on the phone, her embroidered short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned, messily covering half of her breast. Another
white, tender breast was exposed to the air, its dark red nipple erect. Her two shapely thighs were
encased in black pantyhose, with no other clothing scattered haphazardly on the bed and floor.

My mother's slender hands caressed her crotch, and I stared intently as I noticed a large hole torn in the crotch of her pantyhose
, revealing her alluring vulva. Like my wife, her crotch was
completely . This was my mother's vagina, and I couldn't help but describe it in vulgar language. At that moment, all my moral compass was
shattered, and I stared intently at the place that had given me birth and raised me. The phone was placed to my mother's ear...
She tilted her head, pressing down on the phone. One hand roamed over her upper body, sometimes touching her breasts, sometimes
her lower abdomen, sometimes gently biting her lips.

Her other hand never left her vulva; while she continued talking on the phone with her lover, she was also touching her own
genitals.

I couldn't resist slipping my hand into my pants, grasping my penis and slowly stroking it, my eyes continuing to follow the erotic scene in
the room . I knew I shouldn't be standing here, much less watching my mother's body. Although
my usually dignified and elegant mother lay sprawled out, her slender fingers were thrusting and
rubbing . Under her lover's guidance, she uttered increasingly lewd words. Those outrageous words, I
had never even considered, never dared to imagine, coming from my mother's mouth. But at that moment, these words, interspersed with
moans made me rooted to the spot, unwilling to leave.

"Ah, I want my son's big cock..." The mother's pert buttocks writhed on the bed, her hips
lifting up repeatedly, as if welcoming the big cock.

"Ah, yes, so good."

"You come too, come together."

"Come and fuck me with your son... Oh... Ah..." The mother reached her climax, no longer suppressing her moans
, her skin flushed red. My hand, inside her underwear, quickened its pace. I breathed heavily through
my nose , my heart pounding uncontrollably, waves of tingling sensations spreading through my nerves. My brain
felt dizzy from insufficient blood supply, and my body leaned weakly against the wall. Slowly, I
recovered from this intense and prolonged pleasure. Seeing the mother lying lazily on the bed after her climax, seemingly half-asleep, I wondered if she had
heard the noise outside the door. I quietly slipped away.

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