An unusual mother-son relationship stemming from underground banks

I'm an unfortunate woman, thirty-seven years old, single, with a son. My husband died in a car accident, leaving me a widow and son. I run a small business. My son's father owed two loan companies over 50,000 yuan. I couldn't afford to pay it back then, so I agreed to their unreasonable demands. They were after my looks and said they'd settle the debt if I accompanied them.

After agreeing, I was anxious, waiting for their call at any moment. But since it was too late, I figured I might as well go along with it; that made me feel better. Soon they invited me to a hotel. In the hotel room, after exchanging greetings, I met a man in his fifties and a young man in his twenties. The older man was really unattractive—a beer belly, a round face, and a shiny, oily face. The young man was tall and slender, with a

pale face, lacking masculinity but possessing plenty of femininity.
Surprisingly, the older man had some class; he knew that forcing himself on someone was no different from rape, and neither of them would find it enjoyable. It was almost noon, so we ordered takeout and drinks. The three of us ate, drank, and chatted. Then the older man got up and said, "Sorry, young lady, we really like you." That was the opening line

. We all took off our clothes; there was no time for hesitation, and no room for hesitation. The older man's smelly, alcohol-laden mouth came close and kissed my lips. It was disgusting. The young man, who was about the same age as my son, saw this and started sucking on my breasts. My two small, balloon-like breasts aroused his interest. I felt disgusted by the older man, but I liked the young man more; he felt like he was my son. The young man aroused my

sexual desire ; after all, I hadn't had sex for a long time since my husband passed away. The two of them then started thrusting hard, almost pressing me into the Simmons mattress. Finally, they were satisfied and let me go. Although I didn't reach orgasm, I at least experienced the feeling of being on top of a man again, but it wasn't the same as being on top of my husband. The two men took a shower and then told me, "Girl, we'll do it two more times. We're quite satisfied this time, but the only downside is we didn't

bring you to orgasm."
A week later, they contacted me again at the same hotel. This time, I was more relaxed and they brought me to orgasm twice. They left happily.
The last time, they cornered me at home. While they were getting into it

, my son came home and saw them gang-raping me in the bedroom. He panicked and chased them away with a mop. My son hugged me and cried, and I told him why. I said this was the last time, and that would be the end of it. Then my son kept staring at my naked body. He seemed to really like my body, especially my balloon-like breasts and the sparse pubic hair. This was the first time my son had seen my naked body. After

this incident, the way my son looked at me changed. Finally, one day he mustered up the courage to say to me, "Mom, I want to have sex with you." I thought about it all night and finally agreed to my son's request. After all, I'm not exactly innocent either. I'm not a faithful wife and mother; I've been wantonly played with by outsiders, and my son witnessed it all. Is my son less worthy of my emotional investment than some stranger?

The next night, my son ran to my bed. His pitiful expression, like a little boy begging for sex, truly broke my heart. My son is seventeen, practically a little adult. I told him, "Let Mom take a good look at your penis." He shyly took off his underwear and presented his penis to me. His penis was quite impressive—about sixteen centimeters long and four or five centimeters thick, white, with a fresh, bright red glans. He was clearly a virgin, inexperienced young man. I told

my son we should both go wash up, and that we should be hygienic during sex. After we washed up and went back to bed, I had my son lie down, and I started by giving him oral sex. I was worried he might end up like his father did the first time, ejaculating everywhere after only a few strokes, which would hurt his self-esteem. After a little over a minute of oral sex, my son stiffened and suddenly ejaculated into my mouth. I swallowed it forcefully; his slightly fishy taste stimulated my taste buds and my libido. I started teasing

him, saying, "You ejaculated in Mommy's mouth! You're the first person in the world to enjoy this treatment from Mommy!" I gave him oral sex again, and this time he lasted five minutes, even letting out a loud shout when he ejaculated. I knew his pleasure was even stronger this time. At that moment, my sparse pubic hair was wet and sticking together. I felt an intense longing, a longing to be possessed by my son, a longing for him to ravage my burning body. My son got an erection again, and I

couldn't wait. I took the initiative to insert his penis into my vagina. The warm, sticky feeling inside made him incredibly excited. He had never experienced anything like this before. As if someone had sounded a charge, he immediately began thrusting wildly. The impact of his glans against my cervix and the stretching of my elastic vagina further aroused my already high libido. I raised my legs and hooked them tightly around his back, as if shouting for him to go deeper, harder,

and faster. My son was infected by my movements and quickened his pace. In just a few thrusts, I reached my climax. Yes, it was my son who pushed me to my climax. The intense spasms seemed to last a long time in my mind, even though it was less than half a minute, but it was enough to leave me with an unforgettable experience. My son's movements continued, and suddenly he ejaculated too. This time, he lasted for almost ten minutes. The intense pleasure after ejaculating made him roar continuously. I held my

precious son close. After his father left me, it was my beloved son who truly made me a woman again. This mature woman felt reborn.
In the days that followed, my son and I lived a life of luxury, but my desires grew larger and more peculiar. When my son was on top of me, I imagined two guys from the loan company having sex with me,

and I fantasized that one of them was my son. The more I fantasized, the stronger my orgasms became. I felt truly depraved, even experiencing the pleasure of fantasizing about being gang-raped. I
've been having sex with my son for two years now, and half the time I initiated it. Recently, I couldn't resist the temptation of gang rape fantasies anymore, and I finally suggested that my son find another man online to gang-rape

me with him. I'm puzzled. What's wrong with me? Maybe my experiences were too terrible, causing a masochistic desire to be raped to sprout in my heart. My thoughts shocked my son. He couldn't understand. Our sex life should be pretty good, so how could I have such a perverse sexual need? My son, at his wit's end, researched extensively online. He discovered that most people with fantasies of being gang-raped have a history of such experiences, and this distorted psychology

is difficult to overcome. My son was in a bind. In the end, he complied with my wishes, but this kid was very strategic. He kept bringing his close friends home, asking me to cook and entertain them. Gradually, we became familiar with each other, and everyone's inhibitions lessened. The kids kept calling me "Auntie," and I genuinely considered myself their aunt, often joking around like that. Finally, one of the kids started chatting with me on QQ. During

our passionate conversations, he suddenly said he had a strong Oedipus complex and wished I were really his mother, saying all sorts of indecent things about how beautiful and alluring I was. He also said that several of his friends were the same. Finally, he sent me a picture of his penis and asked me to send him a picture of my genitals as well. I didn't do as he asked. I simply said, "You are all my son's friends. Welcome to my house." I believed he would understand the meaning of my welcome.

Finally, it all came to a head. My son and his four cronies came again, and it was all pre-planned. I cooked a feast, and the kids ate to their hearts' content, drinking a lot of alcohol. I got drunk—they did it on purpose. Then they helped me to the big bed, undressed me, and in my drunken state, the boys were busy having fun, ejaculating their youthful energy and bodily fluids into my vagina. In my dream, I was having a hazy orgasm, a continuous stream of orgasms. Suddenly,

the gushing fluid from my vagina woke me up. Adults have this ability—not wetting the bed—because adults have stronger nerve control than babies, so the urge to urinate easily wakes them up. I recognized the boys swaying in front of me. I knew they had brought me to orgasm, and more than once, but I had also fulfilled my desire to be gang-raped. My son told me he got me drunk to avoid embarrassment because they were all acquaintances. My son also said that now he's cuckolded his mother.

It seems it's a done deal. My son said his mother is someone he deeply loves and doesn't want anyone else to touch her, and he only resorted to this tactic to meet my demands. I told my son, "It's not your fault. Blame those heartless beasts at the loan company; otherwise, I wouldn't have developed such a twisted mentality. Today, Mom made a killing, devouring four young chickens in one go, but this is a one-time thing, and it will never happen again. Mom belongs solely to my son; no one can touch her as they please." This made my son very happy, and

in the days that followed, those four of his cronies never appeared in my sight again.
(The End)

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An unusual mother-son relationship stemming from underground banks

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