A mother and son having an affair behind their father's back

(I) Between Mother and Son

My name is Jimmy, I'm thirty-three, and my mom is fifty-five. I thought about it for a long time before deciding to write about our relationship.

Let me state first that from childhood to adolescence, I never had any impure thoughts about her. I know many of you think every teenager has impure thoughts about their mothers. I didn't.

Really, I never peeped at her, and I never had any lustful thoughts about her underwear or other women's intimate items. However, my "sexual interest" is very strong, perhaps too strong. I've had a girlfriend since I was sixteen, and sex is a major part of my life. It was like that when I was young, and it is now.

Let me talk about my mom; she's still my dad's wife. My dad is fifty-nine and retired. The two of them live a quiet life. My dad likes to stay at home, sometimes playing cards with friends.

My mom is always by his side, without much of a say; she does whatever my dad says. In the eyes of the world, they are a good couple. However, I later learned that at my mom's age, she still wants more, to add more excitement to her life.

She found what she wanted with me.

I still don't understand how she managed to hide her other side so well all these years.

She told me she had never cheated on me; I was her third man.

Yes, I had sex with my mother, and it happened frequently. Besides me, she had a previous relationship before marrying my father, and that's how it was.

Want to know more about her? Let me share some of the things she told me. She told me that her sex life with my father was originally good. It was still satisfactory after my brother and I were born. But in recent years, their sex life became bland and monotonous, only happening occasionally.

In contrast, their sex life with me was fantastic! This isn't me bragging; it's what she said. She also told me that since starting this relationship with me, she feels more open and confident than before, enjoying every moment of life. A woman who is nourished by love and has a fulfilling sex life can be seen on her face. My mom always has a sweet smile on her face, making you feel that she is a happy woman.

Okay, let me tell you what my mom looks like. She is 170 cm tall, neither fat nor thin, and she is very excited about fitness and weight loss, so she maintains her figure quite well.

She has long, shoulder-length blonde hair, and her breasts are simply "beautiful." Her breasts are round and large, naturally drooping slightly. Her arms and legs are incredibly smooth, without a single wrinkle. Her

buttocks are round and full, and the curved cleft of her buttocks, when she occasionally bends over or squats, reveals a little bit, drawing your gaze from that small slit to her underwear. Her vulva has two thick labia, which, although not those of a young girl, are still tight. There are also golden pubic hairs on her mons pubis.

As an aside, she has a cute face and a big mouth. She has many virtues that can only be appreciated when she's naked. Don't misunderstand her as a promiscuous woman; she's a typical housewife. She'd walk past you on the street unremarkable, just an ordinary wife. But once you get her into bed, she's a completely different story.

She's both virtuous and wild, and she's willing!

(II) First Encounter with Wushan

Our first time started like this…

It began in early September 2003. The atmosphere was very strange; neither my mother nor I were prepared. Before that, I swear I had absolutely no improper thoughts about her. I'm a normal man; I never thought I could make my mother my sexual partner. But that day, we finally went to Wushan together and had real sex with her.

It was a day off for me; I went home to visit my parents and have dinner. My dad asked me to accompany my mother to a wedding on Saturday. It

was my cousin's wedding, and my mother was going to the banquet. My dad was afraid of social obligations and didn't want to go, preferring to stay home. My uncle's house was far away; it would take a whole day to drive there.

Normally, I wouldn't be so filial as to offer such service. But I happened to be heartbroken after a breakup, and hadn't had a girlfriend for two weeks. I thought the wedding would offer a better chance of meeting some single women. Besides, I wasn't in a good mood, so going out to clear my head would be good. I even thought that if I was lucky enough to pick up a girl at the wedding, I wouldn't have to sleep alone.

I put these two things together and made a plan. I agreed immediately. Since the journey was long, I would be too tired to arrive on the same day. So, I decided to leave on Friday noon, expecting to arrive that afternoon and then find a hotel for

the night. The weather was clear and sunny on the day I set off, and it was incredibly hot. We talked about weddings the whole way. My mother even told me that I was already at the age to get married and should have found someone by now. I told her I wasn't considering it yet. Around 7 pm, I told her I was sleepy and couldn't drive anymore, asking her to keep an eye out for hotels along the way. Five minutes later, we saw the first hotel and stopped the car.

It was a small hotel. The man behind the counter said there were two rooms. One had a double bed, and the other was a triple room with three single beds. I wanted both, but Mom said she wanted the one with the three single beds. She said, "Why pay for two rooms? We just need one bed to sleep in."

She went in to shower first, and I paid and followed her with our luggage. I showered too, and after we freshened up, we went to a nearby restaurant for dinner and had a bottle of wine.

Neither of us got drunk, but the journey had exhausted us, and the wine helped us relax. Around nine o'clock, we decided to go back to our room.

Back in the room, I sat on the bed. My bed was near the wardrobe, where I put my luggage. Mom went to the wardrobe, took a robe from her suitcase, and unbuttoned her shirt. Here, I should explain that growing up at home, we were used to wearing underwear; it was normal. But I had never seen Mom naked before.

Anyway, as she took off her shirt, I didn't want to stare at her chest, so I turned away to take off my shoes. Mom came up to me (still wearing a bra) and asked me to scratch her back. Following her instructions, I scratched her back, and I heard her moan with pleasure. Seeing how much she enjoyed it, I said to her, "Sit down, I know what you need." I started massaging her back.

At that moment, I thought to myself, "My mom, wearing only a bra, is actually a very attractive woman," and suddenly I had inappropriate thoughts about her.

Her blonde hair brushed against my arm, her soft moans, her fragrance, her smooth skin, and her black lace bra and panties were enough to make my penis hard instantly. The thought of doing "that" with her flashed through my mind, and I almost ejaculated.

You might think I would immediately pounce on her and have sex with her. But I didn't. At that moment, I did nothing. If I had pounced on her immediately, it wouldn't have been sex, it would have been rape. I continued to massage her as if nothing had happened, seemingly without any impure thoughts, stroking her neck and bare back above the shoulder straps, until she told me, "That's enough."

I remembered when we were little, she would wear a bathrobe in front of me, and then skillfully remove her bra from inside the robe.

I thought she would remove her bra the same way as before, but this time she asked me to unhook it for her, saying she was too tired to do it herself.

I obeyed and unhooked it for her. Then, she stood up, held the bra down with both hands, and ran to the corner of the wardrobe, where there was a chair, and her bathrobe was draped over the back of the chair.

I thought she would pick up the bathrobe and go into the bathroom to change. But instead, she turned her back to me and took off her bra right there. Just as she was about to put on the bathrobe, I spoke.

I told her, "Don't wear a bathrobe." I don't know where I got the courage to say that; maybe it just slipped out because I hadn't thought about it at all.

She heard me, took her bathrobe, and stood there, stunned. Then she asked me what I had just said to her.

She was still facing away from me; I could only see her bare back and the outline of her breasts, but not her expression. I thought I should seize this opportunity and go for it. I walked up to her, leaned close to her ear, and said in a very calm tone that I wanted her to turn around and face me because I wanted to see her breasts.

After hearing this, she froze, speechless for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice trembling, she said, "Jimmy, I'm your mother! What are you saying?"

I said, "Don't you trust me?"

She said, "Of course I trust you. But I don't understand why you want me to say this."

I told her, "I don't know either. I just want to see your body. Is that okay?"

She stood there, embarrassed, covering her breasts with her hands, and then slowly turned around.

I sat on the bed and beckoned her over. She hesitated for a moment, then came and stood in front of me.

I told her to move her hands away, and she hesitated again, then moved them slightly apart, revealing alluring nipples and areolas between her fingers. It was the first time in my life I had seen her breasts face-to-face,
so round and large. She was fifty-five years old, and her breasts were inevitably a little saggy.

But they were incredibly beautiful. If I were to describe their beauty, I would say they were breasts brimming with maternal love, unlike the firm and youthful breasts of my girlfriends.

I wanted to touch them immediately. I was afraid that touching her breasts like that would frighten my mother, so I slowly raised my hand and moved it slowly, letting her know that I wanted to touch her, that I was about to touch her, so that she could prepare herself.

My fingers circled her areolas, but didn't touch her nipples. She trembled all over, but remained standing still, her eyes looking upwards, not daring to look at me or my hand that was touching her.

"Don't be afraid," I said, gently taking her hands that were covering her breasts, letting my hands protect those sacred peaks in her place.

I simply caressed her breasts gently, then touched her nipples, which gradually hardened under my kneading, almost indistinguishable from those of a younger woman.

I didn't know what would happen next. To put it bluntly, I didn't know how far my mother would let me go. However, I knew that there was one thing I wanted to do most at that moment: suckle my mother's nipples!

I told my mother to sit on the bed. She obediently sat down beside me, her hands covering her breasts again. I told her she'd better lie down, and not cover her breasts; I had already seen them. At this moment, she turned her head, looking at me quietly, her expression somewhat confused.

It seemed she wanted to reason with me. However, she didn't say anything, but instead did as I asked. She bent down, took off her sandals, and lay down on the bed. I didn't know why she did this; I thought that if she had taken off her shoes before getting into bed, I would have had a chance. Because if she took off her shoes before getting into bed, it meant she didn't plan to sleep in her own room that night, but wanted to sleep with me.

I leaned down close to her, covering her breasts with my hands and starting to rub them. Her nipples immediately hardened and pressed against my palms. She kept looking at me, and I kept looking at her. Usually, when a woman looks at me like this in my bed, she would avoid my eyes or close them.

But my mother looked at me calmly, which I couldn't stand. So, I lay down next to her.

My mouth found her nipple, first a light kiss, then a gentle bite. However, sleeping in the same bed with my mother was rather awkward, and my mind went blank for a moment. I didn't know what to do next. After thinking for a while, I started sucking on one of my mother's nipples, while pinching the other nipple with my fingers.

She moaned, just a soft hum, not a loud cry, how sensual.

After caressing and sucking for a while, I switched my hands and mouth to the other nipple, sucking and rubbing it. Mom's breathing grew heavier. She placed her hand on my head, stroking my hair with her fingers.

In the quiet night, we caressed each other. After a long while, tears dripped onto my face, and I realized she was crying.

I dared not speak, afraid of saying something that would shatter this beautiful atmosphere. So I first unzipped my pants, because my engorged penis was unbearably constricted. Then, I kissed Mom's breasts, and then kissed her face.

I wiped away her tears, caressing her face, gently kissing every inch of her skin. When I kissed her lips, she shivered. She asked me to kiss her gently, but when I tried to put my tongue in her mouth, she turned her face away.

I didn't force her, and turned back to kiss her cheek. Mom and I have been lying in bed together ever since, my hands never leaving her breasts, taking turns squeezing and caressing them. Her reaction was the same as other women's; both her nipples were already quite erect.

I leaned close to her ear and whispered, "You're so beautiful." She didn't respond. I continued, "I want you, I must have you."

I spoke very gently, afraid of offending her. Only then did she turn her head, push my hand away, and say, "That's enough, let's stop here.

" I said, "We've only just begun."

She said, "We can't go on like this."

I said, "No. Mom, I can't stop."

Mom said, "No. This isn't right. Let's stop here, okay? We should go to sleep." As she spoke, tears streamed down her face again.

I tried to kiss her lips again, and she turned her face away, but I followed her and finally kissed her.

She said to me, "This is the last kiss, okay?"

I said to her, "How can I sleep at a time like this? I don't think you want it to end here, right?"

My hand moved under her skirt, slowly lifting it until her thighs met. Without a word, I slipped my hand into her panties and began to caress her vulva.

My mother trembled and said, "Oh! No, Jimmy. Don't touch me, don't touch me there."

I ignored her and inserted my index finger into her "vulva."

My God! Her vulva was soaking wet, like a flowing river. This amazed me. I thought, at my mother's age, other women would have already applied lubricant, yet she was so wet. So I inserted my middle finger as well and began to finger her vulva.

Although she said no, her body betrayed her, surrendering to me, and she no longer resisted.

At that moment, I rolled off the bed. This action confused her; she didn't know what I was going to do.

I told my mom I wanted to take off my clothes. So, in front of her, I took off my t-shirt, pants, and boxer shorts. My huge penis immediately sprang out, waving in front of her, but she looked away.

After I finished taking off my clothes, I got back onto the bed and spread her legs. When I took off her underwear, she didn't resist; she even lifted her buttocks slightly, which emboldened me.

I eagerly pulled down her panties, slowly admiring the view inside her vulva. It was covered in golden hair, clearly seldom trimmed. She was a typical "golden cat," with golden hair, and her vulva, despite her age, hadn't faded—a truly rare gem.

I lifted her legs, placing them on my shoulders, my mother's genitals now fully exposed. My mother closed her eyes, her face flushed.

I took a breath, thrust forward, and my penis slid in. I pushed a few more times, and it was fully inside.

Immediately, I heard my mother let out a soft, seductive moan, which completely captivated me.

I decided to make love to her, but I wasn't too rough, because she was my mother. I simply left my penis inside her, without thrusting. I let the warmth and wetness of her vulva envelop me.

After a moment, I saw her whole body begin to tremble and sway uncontrollably, as if she couldn't breathe.

I knew it was a reaction to orgasm.

Seeing my mother beneath me, experiencing an orgasm, and knowing that the cause of her reaction was my penis, I couldn't resist any longer. I ejaculated inside her without even thrusting.

That's how we both experienced our first orgasm. Afterwards, she was covered in fragrant sweat, looking relaxed, as if all her confusion had been resolved.

It wasn't until much later that I realized my penis was still hard inside her. I lowered her legs, pressed my body against hers, and intertwined our fingers. I could feel her breasts pressed against my chest, her legs wrapped around me, her vagina tightly gripping me, leaving my penis inside her.

This act of intercourse gave me pleasure, and I realized that she actually liked this. So, I was on top of her, and relying on my still-hard penis, I began to thrust gently and quickly. At the same time, I was surprised to find that my mother's vagina was still so tight and elastic. She whispered in my ear, "Don't stop."

I kissed her lips, wanting a French kiss, and this time she returned the kiss, her tongue entwining with mine. We kissed passionately, finding a rhythm for lovemaking. We slowly savored each movement, making a sweet, beautiful love.

This precious moment should have been cherished, but neither of us could control ourselves, and it came quickly. Mom came first, and I followed. We fell into each other's arms and both fell asleep.

People say life is unpredictable. I woke up the next morning to find Mom not beside me. I went to the hotel restaurant and found her. She was eating breakfast alone. I could tell something was wrong from her expression.

She said good morning and then looked down at her coffee cup. I didn't say anything, thinking, "It's still early. We can leave later."

Once in the car, we were tense the whole way; the atmosphere was stiff, unbearable. After a while, I couldn't hold back any longer and spoke.

"It seems we should have a serious talk and clear things up."

"We have nothing to say," she interrupted me abruptly.

"What did you say? What we did..."

"Don't bring it up again. We're both adults, we both have needs, we did it. It's over and done, but we can't do it again. Understand? This is between the two of us, don't tell anyone. Promise me you won't bring it up again."

I was speechless.

To be honest, I didn't intentionally want to have a relationship with Mom, or have any ulterior motives towards her. Just as Mom said, what's done is done, there won't be a next time.

I've had many fleeting relationships, all brief encounters, followed by no further contact.

I don't know if I should call sleeping with Mom a "fleeting relationship." Because she's my mother, having sex with her and still having to interact with her is more awkward than being complete strangers, even a little guilt-inducing.

However, my heart still yearns for this almost impossible relationship, and since it's already happened, I'm unwilling to let it end there. There would always be a sequel. I didn't know how it would happen, but what was meant to happen would happen.

"Did you hear what I said? Can you promise me?" Her words interrupted my thoughts.

What else could I say but "promise"? She was my mother. This was our last conversation. We remained silent the whole way until noon, when we arrived at my uncle's house.

Upon arrival, Mom immediately changed into her wedding dress and chatted incessantly with my aunt. We stayed for a few hours before going to our hotel. My uncle had arranged it; we each had our own room. After my uncle left, we each locked ourselves in our rooms until the wedding began.

During the wedding banquet, I had no interest in dancing or flirting. I sat alone in my seat, never leaving. Mom danced with my uncle and other male guests, trying her best to appear unaffected. I watched her perform all evening.

Several times, our eyes met, and I saw an extremely unnatural expression on her face. It was an expression of her scrutinizing me from the bottom of her heart.

Before the party was over, Mom told Uncle she had to leave. She said she was tired from the journey and had to travel home the next day.

Back at the hotel, she asked me when I was leaving the next day, then said goodnight. She went back to her room alone. I tossed and turned all night, trying to find a reasonable explanation for what had happened the past two days.

The atmosphere the next day was even more awkward. On the way home, we didn't know how to interact and felt quite uncomfortable. Every time we wanted to speak, we could

n't get the words out. Finally, we gave up and remained silent the whole way. It was already 7 p.m. when we got home. I dropped her off at the door and left.

(III) Having tasted the sweetness,

we hadn't seen or spoken since that Sunday night when I took Mom home. Only twice did Dad call me to ask if I wanted to come home for dinner. Both times I made an excuse to decline. I understood that Mom was embarrassed to see me again; she harbored resentment, so I didn't want to force her or embarrass her. I finally made up my mind; after all, she was my mother, and I couldn't fantasize about having sex with her all the time.

A single, accidental event can only be relived, never to be repeated. However, for the past two weeks, my mother's image has been constantly swirling in my mind. The second week, I decided to stop thinking about her and went back to my womanizing ways.

Since sleeping with my mother once, I haven't tasted "meat" for a month, and I'm almost becoming an abstinent person.

I need to find a girlfriend quickly; having a girlfriend will help me forget my mother sooner.

However, I'm unlucky and haven't met anyone suitable. But I did meet an old flame, and sleeping with her twice a week was a small consolation.

One weekend in September, something unexpected happened! Around one o'clock in the afternoon, I was extremely bored, wearing only my boxer shorts, sprawled on the sofa reading the newspaper.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I asked who it was. The person outside replied, "It's me." Of course, I recognized my mother's voice immediately. She came to my door without warning.

I took a deep breath before opening the door.

"Good morning!" she said.

"It's getting late, it's one o'clock in the afternoon."

"May I come in?"

"Oh, of course." I stepped back slightly, making way for her. She came in.

After she came in, she looked around and said, "Did I disturb you?"

I lazily replied, "No, not at all."

Her sudden arrival made me a little nervous. In the past, I was afraid she would catch me having sex with another girl in bed, so I insisted that she not come to my house.

Her arrival this time made me nervous, and my heart was racing.

As soon as we entered the living room, I asked her to sit down, but she refused and asked me to sit down instead. I sat on the sofa, and she stood in front of me, asking again, "Are you home alone? No one else?"

"I already said I'm home alone."

I felt that something was about to happen, but I still thought she just wanted to talk to me.

Suddenly, she took off her coat, revealing a thin summer dress. I saw the outline of her breasts under her clothes, slightly sagging, with two nipples protruding and faintly visible under the shirt. The first two buttons of her dress were undone, revealing a deep cleavage.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, and I wondered if she was wearing underwear. Besides, she was only wearing sandals.

She kept looking at me and said, "If you don't want me, you can tell me to leave. But I think you'd like to take off my bra, like last time."

I replied seriously, "Mom, you're not wearing a bra this time. You were last time."

"Really? Oh, yes. Well then, I want you to do something else for me." With that, she began to pull up her skirt in an extremely seductive pose, revealing a pair of fair legs beneath.

Then, she gave me a lewd smile and lifted her skirt in one swift motion, showing me that she wasn't wearing underwear, and her pubic hair was completely shaved. This action shocked me.

She said, "I thought you liked me like this. Will this solve your problem?" She pointed to my erect penis.

Her pointing made me incredibly embarrassed, and I immediately covered myself with my hands. I thought to myself, I'm not the only one who wants to have sex.

She kept pulling her skirt up, making her vulva directly in line with my line of sight, giving me a complete and unobstructed view. I beckoned to her, and she came over. I patted the spot next to me, and she sat down beside me.

I reached out and put my arm around her waist, and she leaned towards me. Without a word, I kissed her. She immediately responded, and we kissed each other on the lips. Just as I was about to give her a French kiss, she pushed me away and said, "Wait."

I looked at her blankly. She smiled at me and said, "If you want to have sex, come and fuck me now."

It was the first time I'd heard my mother use such a vulgar and indecent word as "fuck me." However, I knew she wasn't joking, so I obeyed without hesitation, immediately taking action. I took off my underwear, spread her legs with both hands, and she lifted her skirt so I could lie on top of her and have sex with her.

Her pussy was just as wet as last time. I didn't need to tease her anymore; she was already burning with desire. Because it was so sudden, and I was afraid she might change her mind, I seized the opportunity and fucked her hard.

I knew that making love with my mother should be especially gentle and considerate, but she didn't seem to mind my roughness. She was enjoying it even more than I was; she almost screamed from pleasure.

Hearing the sounds of our bodies colliding, along with my mother's moans and cries, even I felt incredibly lewd. So, after a while, I couldn't help but ejaculate. My mother also had two orgasms.

After the orgasms, we were still embracing, my penis still inside her vagina, unwilling to withdraw, enjoying the afterglow.

After coming to her senses, she asked if she could go to my bedroom. I said of course.

I helped her up her limp body and held her in my arms. She saw my penis still erect, pressed against her thigh, and looked a little shy. Her clothes were disheveled, and she didn't bother to tidy them up before following me into my bedroom. She told me to lie down on the bed.

Then, Mom bent down, took off her sandals and skirt, and came to the bed completely naked. Her naked body gradually approached, making my heart race. This was the most thorough time she had ever given me.

She got on the bed and took my penis in her hand. She touched it, kissed it gently, and caressed my scrotum in her hands while simultaneously stroking and kneading my penis.

Under her caresses, my penis immediately became erect again, throbbing in her hand. Then she straddled me, holding my penis, aiming it at her vaginal opening, and slowly lowered her vagina onto my penis until it was fully inserted. Then she sat on me, motionless. Of course, I didn't move either. We looked into each other's eyes, thinking that we had truly become one, and this wonderful feeling would forever remain in our hearts.

During this lovemaking experience, Mom taught me many techniques for lovemaking. I realized how skilled she was at lovemaking. She moved slowly up and down, leaning forward to caress my chest with her nipples and breasts. My penis was inside her vagina, and when she sensed I was about to ejaculate, she would pause, then start again, gradually building up the intensity of the act. As

she moved up and down on top of me, I realized she had given me the perfect vantage point, allowing me to admire my mother's breasts bouncing before me. We made love slowly like this for fifteen minutes before reaching climax together. My penis remained inside her vagina, refusing to leave for a long time.

I wished this wonderful feeling would never end. I knew that making love with my mother was the happiest thing in my life.

After the second time, we had developed a tacit understanding; I knew what she wanted from just a gesture. I embraced her again, and we kissed and caressed each other.

After the intense lovemaking, I was starving, so I asked her what she wanted to eat. She suggested we take a shower together first. She got out of bed and went into the bathroom, and I followed. Once inside, she said she wanted me to scrub her back and the parts of her body that I had soiled.

I lathered her entire body with soap and washed her thoroughly. Mom also washed my penis.

After we finished, Mom said she would cook for me. I said I only had some spaghetti, so she cooked some meat sauce. She said she would also open a bottle of Italian red wine, and then she went into my kitchen.

Watching Mom cook was a pleasure, because she had just showered and was barefoot, wearing only a t-shirt that barely covered her buttocks.

Whenever she bent down to get something, I could see her beautiful lower body. This sight was uncontrollable, so I kept lingering behind her, my arms around her waist, kissing her neck, and my hands slipping inside her t-shirt to caress her breasts. Whenever she protested that I was interfering with her cooking, I turned her face towards me, kissed her, and silenced her.

During dinner, I stretched my leg under the table over to my mother's side, entwining and rubbing it against hers. As she sucked on the noodles, I fantasized that it was my penis, nestled in her red lips. She seemed embarrassed by my gaze and lowered her head, continuing to eat. I wondered if she was wondering what we'd do after dinner.

We wouldn't waste such a precious moment. After finishing the last drop of red wine, I embraced her again and kissed her, her arms wrapped around my neck. The rich aroma of the red wine on my lips reminded me of that night at the hotel. I said to my mother, "Come on, let's go to bed." She lowered her head and let me pull her into the bedroom.

Once in bed, I lifted her t-shirt, and she helped me take off my underwear. I spread her legs, and she readily complied. But when I knelt down and started licking her vulva, she said, "No, it's dirty there," and tightly closed her legs. I forcibly spread her legs again and continued licking. She kept twisting her hips, trying to avoid me.

Suddenly, my tongue touched her clitoris, and she screamed, her whole body going limp. She stopped resisting and let me lift her buttocks so I could lick her vulva to my heart's content.

My mother's vulva is very sensitive; every time I sucked, I saw her body tremble, wave after wave of pleasure stimulating her nerve endings. Seeing her expression of apparent pain but actually pleasure, I realized that she had such a strong reaction to my oral skills. Mom climaxed again and again. After I had satisfied my oral desires, Mom said she had to return the favor.

After saying that, she calmly kissed and caressed my two testicles, kissing from the base of my penis to the glans, then put them in her mouth to suck.

I could tell her oral skills weren't very proficient, but just seeing my penis in her mouth, being sucked and licked by her, was enough to make me feel incredibly aroused. So, soon after, I ejaculated.

She tried to swallow my semen, but because I ejaculated a large amount, she choked and spat it out. The semen flowed from the corner of her mouth, down her chin, and onto her chest. I licked the liquid that had flowed down her lips and body. She also stuck out her tongue and licked the residue left on my lips. I said

to my mother, "You ate my semen." My mother

said, "Yours is mine too."

After a day and night of intense lovemaking, we were both exhausted and lay in bed embracing each other.

My mother slept naked beside me, which was a very special feeling. She slept as sweetly as a baby, and I took this opportunity to carefully examine the parts I hadn't had a chance to see clearly before. That was her vagina. I woke her up when I opened her labia. She said I was rotten, so we did it again.

All weekend, we did nothing but make love, as if we were trying to make up for all the times we missed. She stayed overnight at my house, and we didn't even leave the house. The next day, Mom didn't go to church either, and stayed in my bed. Apart from resting a bit to recover our strength, eating, and showering, we continued to explore each other's bodies, just like newlyweds.

Afterwards, before Dad came home, I took Mom back home. This weekend changed our lives forever.

(IV) Confession of Feelings

On Saturday night, after Mom and I made love, she told me: In the past few years, every time they made love, it was because she wanted it. She always took the initiative to make love, and Dad did it to satisfy her needs. At

first, Mom suspected that Dad was having an affair. However, Dad's lifestyle was very traditional. After retiring, he was often at home, and it didn't seem like he had a second woman. My mother said that my father might have developed a sexual apathy towards her.

What moved me most was her story about experiencing a sexless life. She even tried to avoid masturbation to prevent increasing her sexual desire, so she did everything she could to avoid mentioning sex.

She said she had considered finding a lover, but she loved my father too much. She worried that one day he might discover she was having an affair and he wouldn't be able to handle it.

I asked her why she had sex with her son, and she couldn't explain it herself. She didn't give me a feeling of coercion; there was a strange feeling, and she felt it was very unsettling. She never imagined that her first time having sex with me would be so incredibly pleasurable and unforgettable.

She had never experienced such a powerful orgasm before. She knew she had to forget it. She felt we had made a terrible mistake and absolutely couldn't let it continue. But she found it so difficult to forget the memory of that time she had sex with me!

Two weeks later, she masturbated daily by fantasizing about having sex with me, trying to release her desire and prevent this illicit affair from happening again. But it was all in vain.

I asked her why she changed clothes in front of me instead of in the bathroom. She said that at that time, she was very flustered and confused, and didn't think about it at all; everything she did was unintentional.

As for the message she sent me by taking off her sandals, she told me that when my hand touched her breasts, she felt like her body was about to explode. When I told her to lie down, she already knew that I was about to go straight for her and have sex with her.

Taking off her sandals was her signal to me that she wanted it too; it was a way of expressing herself without saying a word. I received it too, and thus, we became a perfect couple in bed.

Then I asked: What were your feelings when she came to me two weeks later to continue our relationship?

That weekend, my father wasn't home. He only went out once or twice a year to stay at his sister's house for a few days. Because he loved fishing, he would go fishing with his brother-in-law. He would usually stay out all weekend, not returning until noon on Monday.

With Dad gone, only Mom was left at home, and she would think of coming to see me.

The next day, she would put aside all moral considerations and resolve to come see me. The thought of spending a whole weekend together was the greatest temptation of her life. She couldn't resist this temptation, and after getting ready, she would leave home.

She thought I might not find her attractive, so she went to great lengths to dress up for me, making herself look younger—a woman dresses to please her lover.

So, the moment she arrived at my house and I opened the door, she took the initiative, directing everything. She was determined not to shy away anymore, full of confidence, following her desires. She completely controlled the situation.

With women, I'm usually the one who takes the initiative; I'm not used to being controlled by women. However, I'm especially willing to serve my mother's requests, especially since the pleasure and enjoyment she gave me in sex was unparalleled by any other woman.

I asked, "Mom, do you want to be with me from now on?"

Mom said, "If you're willing."

I said, "I'm afraid you won't."

She nodded, "As long as you're willing, I'm willing too."

Seeing Mom say yes, I hurriedly said, "Mom, I'm willing." I excitedly hugged my naked mom and kissed her incessantly.

After we made an agreement, Mom was no longer reserved. The frequency of sex really can change the feelings between people. After those two days of non-stop sex, she was no longer embarrassed to be open with me. Mom seemed to quickly get used to our "new" relationship, and having sex and kissing me became commonplace.

Regarding our sexual relationship, she told me she felt it was good. She also said: Good things should continue, it's that simple. I asked her what about Dad? She said it was a private matter between my mother and me, and had nothing to do with him. Don't drag him into it. I admired her courage. Because even someone like me, who considers myself Don Quixote, wouldn't dare to mention this incestuous relationship. How to face my father afterward is an even harder hurdle than overcoming the mother-son relationship to fall in love.

She said, "We both love him, so we must keep this a secret." She told me that my father knows how to enjoy life too much; he's enjoyed his blessings, and now it's her turn.

Just then, she did something that surprised me. She picked up the phone and dialed my aunt's house to call my father. My aunt answered, and after they talked for a while, my mother said she wanted to speak with my father.

My father answered the phone. He said he had just cooked the fish he caught. He also asked how my mother was. She said she felt bored being home alone, so she came to my house to visit me and cook a meal for us. She smiled at me as she said this.

Dad asked Mom how I was doing. She said, "He's very well-behaved. I just beat him at Monopoly. Do you want to talk to him, Mom?"

Hearing this, I was terrified. I couldn't talk to Dad as casually as Mom did. So I shook my head and waved my hands frantically, indicating no.

Seeing my gesture, Mom told Dad that she was washing dishes in the kitchen and couldn't talk to him. They talked for a while, then said goodnight to each other.

Mom winked at me and said, "See, I guessed right. It's lively over there, and we're having a great time here too. It's exciting on both sides."

I couldn't believe Mom would do that. When I called Dad, Mom was only wearing my t-shirt, no underwear, and sitting on my lap. Her hot buttocks pressed down on my penis, preventing it from getting hard.

She could still chat with Dad casually, as if nothing had happened. I had my arm around her, but when I heard her talking to Dad, I immediately let go. The few minutes they talked on the phone were the most peaceful moments my hands had been since we slept together on Saturday.

I didn't dare to be unrestrained with her; even when she turned her face and pursed her lips, I didn't dare kiss her.

After the call ended, we talked seriously about the issue. She said she called my dad to make me understand that we had to pretend things were "as before." We shouldn't let our new relationship ruin my relationship with my dad.

She was right; I had to accept this delicate relationship. I said, "It's difficult, but give me some time, I can do it, I promise Mom."

She said she wouldn't mind if I wanted to see other women, as long as I could make time for her. She also said her needs were high. And she certainly seemed to. Having been sexually dormant for years, I had to be prepared for this awakening.

I replied that I now knew who passed on my libido to. Okay, let's arrange how we'll meet in the future—when, where, and what we'll do—no need to elaborate. We meet at my house a few days each week, whether I'm free or not.

After six months of maintaining a close relationship with my mother, I still haven't grown tired of it and always look forward to our next meeting. I gave her the front door key, saying she would only use it to open the door when I wasn't home. She asked me to clear some space in her closet for her new clothes and underwear. She bought a batch of underwear, saying she wanted to replace the old with the new, starting with her underwear.

So I went with my mother to buy these women's underwear, and I gave her a lot of advice. These personal items were all very sexy and alluring; half were kept at home, and the other half in my closet.

She put a lot of effort into dressing me up, making herself as beautiful as possible. Because she knows how to use beauty filters. Most women in their fifties think they're too old. My mother, however, has a confidence that other women don't have. Although her appearance isn't outstanding, her figure is still in its best condition, making her seem still charming.

Our sex life is blissful, incredibly good. Every time we were in bed, we were like a pair of lovers who knew each other well, not shying away from asking each other what to do or what to do for each other. The biggest surprise she gave me was her performance in oral sex.

She didn't have much experience in this area, only having done it a few times with my dad. Later, she became an expert, using her big mouth to serve me. Many times, the last scene in bed was her giving me oral sex, and then reluctantly parting ways. She said she would rather eat my semen than have me ejaculate on her face, saying it felt like a punishment. So, before I ejaculated, I would always give her a signal, and then she would take my penis into her mouth. I remember at the beginning, she didn't like me licking her pussy either. Whenever I buried my head between her legs, she would make many excuses. Later, she overcame her psychological barrier and became fully engaged, even guiding my tongue to penetrate deeper.

(V) Lessons Learned

Since having sex with my mom for a while, we have developed a tacit understanding, and life has become more colorful. At first, we met every day, because it felt like we couldn't live without each other. My mother would always find an excuse to meet me.

I needed to travel for work, but ever since I slept with my mother, I couldn't bear to leave home, let alone be separated from her. So, we arranged our dates to end within a day and a half, so I could return the following evening.

Around mid-November, I had to go away for two days, flying to a neighboring country. My days were filled with meetings and entertaining guests, and I was exhausted by the time I got back to the hotel. Although I got up early to leave, I couldn't sleep at night. So, I went to the hotel bar

for a drink. It was a very upscale hotel, and the bar was luxuriously elegant. I sat on a high chair at the counter, ordered a whiskey, and drank alone. The bar wasn't crowded, maybe ten or so people, mostly men, all older than me.

After I finished my drink, a woman came in and sat next to me. She looked to be about thirty-five to thirty-eight years old and quite attractive. She asked for a light, and I said I didn't smoke. We started talking. It turned out she was also here on a business trip.

During our conversation, I noticed her every smile and gesture, intentionally or unintentionally flirtatious and provocative. I've seen this kind of thing many times, but I was curious to see what would happen. Half an hour later, she finished her drink, paid the bill, and turned to me, saying, "I'm going back to my room. Do you want to come up?"

I didn't know how to answer, but as she left, I followed her. I thought, perhaps old habits die hard.

As soon as I entered her room, we immediately made love.

It was a very exciting lovemaking session. That woman knew what she wanted and knew how to get it.

I thought, since we were just strangers, why not enjoy the night? I even had anal sex with her, and while doing so, I suddenly realized I'd never done it with my mother. Anyway, after we finished, she thanked me for the night and said she had a lot to do the next day and wanted to sleep.

Since that was a dismissal, I tactfully returned to my room.

Back in my room, I got into my bed and thought about what had happened that night. Was I being unfaithful to my mother, cheating on her? Sleeping with my mother felt different from sleeping with that other woman. And what exactly was my relationship with my mother? She was my lover, but not my girlfriend. Sleeping with another woman made me feel guilty towards her; it was a strange feeling I'd never had before.

I remembered her saying that if I wanted, I could find another woman. Therefore, my conclusion was: I hadn't done anything wrong tonight. I

arrived at the airport at noon the next day, but my flight was delayed. I called my mother, and she said she could wait for me. I said I probably wouldn't be home until 11 pm, so let's meet tomorrow.

The next day was Thursday afternoon, and my mother was already waiting for me at my house. Half an hour later, I rushed back.

As soon as I entered, I called out, "Mom, I'm home! Are you here? Where are you?"

I heard her reply from the bedroom: "Don't you know I'm waiting for you? Hurry up and get into bed!" As

soon as I entered the room, I saw her wearing sexy lingerie, already waiting for me on my bed. Seeing this, I pounced on her, embraced her, and we kissed passionately, making love intensely. After that, although our sexual desire subsided temporarily, we were still unsatisfied, so we did it again.

I lay on top of her, my penis slowly thrusting in and out of her vagina. We kissed wildly all the way, and then I remembered our one-night stand from the previous night. Not wanting to hide it from her, I began to tell her everything.

I didn't understand why. I thought she would be very interested in listening to me, that my romantic encounter would make her more emotional and excited, so I started by talking about drinking at the bar. When I got to the part about following that woman to her room, I saw her face darken.

She understood what I was talking about, but she remained calm and listened to me continue. When I got to the part about what I did with that woman in bed, she suddenly flew into a rage.

"What did you say? You said you did what you did with her?" she yelled at me, then pushed me away. My penis was forcibly forced out, the process was very rough, and my penis hurt a lot. She got up and started dressing. I endured the pain, looking at her angry face, and I really didn't know what to do.

I've had many girlfriends and argued with them many times. But none of them had reacted this strongly.

I could only plead, "Please, don't go. Let me explain, okay?"

My mother said, "Fine! You want to explain? I'd like to know why you're messing around with that woman."

I said, "I thought you said that."

She snapped, "I said that? What did I say to you?"

I said, "You said that if I wanted to find another woman, you would let me."

My mother said, "You really understand that?"

I was speechless. I even thought my mother was being unreasonable.

My mother continued, "What I mean is, if you truly love a woman and want to marry her, I won't stop you. I'm not saying you can ignore me and continue living your promiscuous life. I don't mean you should be a womanizer, flirting everywhere, chasing after every woman you meet in a bar, and sleeping with her. Tell me, what woman would say that? Tell me, do you know who that woman is?" she questioned me.

She had hit the nail on the head; I was speechless, I had no room to defend myself.

I had exchanged names with that woman, but I quickly forgot.

My mother continued, "I understand. For you, the most important thing is finding a pussy to fuck. Any woman willing to sleep with you is fine; you don't care about anything else."

I didn't dare speak.

My mother continued, "Me! All my efforts to find new excuses and make up stories to meet you have been wasted. You worry about me after just two days away, and this is how you repay me?"

"..."

My mother continued, "Tell me. If I went to a bar and slept with the first man I met, how would you feel? Would you be happy?"

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I never imagined this would happen to me.

I knew she belonged to me. I didn't want to lose her. Hearing her say that, I thought, of course I'd be unhappy, even furious.

I told her I knew I was wrong. I asked her to sit down and talk things over.

She angrily said to me, "Jimmy, your pussy is gone tonight. You're not a child anymore; you're grown up and need to act like an adult." With that, she slammed the door shut and left.

I didn't chase after her; I just sat blankly on the bed, watching my mother leave.

(VI) Reconciliation

In the days that followed, my relationship with my mother was terrible. I didn't dare go to her because I knew what I had done had broken her heart. Even my father noticed my mother's emotional fluctuations and mentioned it to me. I thought to myself, thank goodness, he didn't know why she was in such a bad mood.

After these days, I knew it wouldn't be difficult to persuade my mother to change her mind and continue with me. Because although she was a mature and independent woman, she couldn't get past me; she was determined to be my lover. It was simply because she loved me too much, or rather, she couldn't suppress her sexual desire for me.

I'm very good at exploiting women's weaknesses, but I couldn't do that to my mother; I couldn't treat her like my previous girlfriends. She was the most special one to me, and I felt I needed to deliberately do something for her to make her understand that I truly knew my mistakes and how much I regretted them.

I finally understood my mother's complex feelings and figured out how to get along with her. Pure lust couldn't sustain our relationship; we had to respect and trust each other.

After our fight, my mother and I didn't see or speak to each other for a whole week.

So I called home to ask my dad if I could come home for dinner on Sunday. My dad was happy to hear my voice.

He said, "Your mom is going through menopause. She's been in a bad mood these past few days. Maybe you can comfort her."

I told my dad, "Don't worry! I know it's not a big deal..."

The next day, I went home for lunch. I deliberately arrived fifteen minutes early. I said good morning to my mom, and as soon as she saw me, she puffed out her cheeks and ran to the kitchen. She said lunch would be ready soon. I chatted with my dad, and soon the food was cooked. Mom asked us to help bring the food out. While we ate, my mom remained silent.

After dinner, Dad said there were pies to eat, baked by Mom herself. This was the chance I'd been waiting for.

I said, "Wait a minute before eating the pies, I have something I want to say to you both."

Dad asked, "What is it?"

I said, "It's something I thought of during my recent business trip."

Hearing this, Mom looked up, her face showing alarm. I was speaking to Dad; Mom was right next to us. As soon as I said that, Mom tensed up, afraid I'd say something I shouldn't.

I said, "Dad, whenever I travel, whether by plane, bus, or taxi, I always want to bring a camera so I can take pictures of the beautiful scenery I see and show them to Mom. What I mean is, I'm thirty-three this year and have been to many places, and you've also traveled to many places for work. But Mom has only traveled abroad once in all these years, during our honeymoon. I think about how you often took me and Peter (my brother) to watch football, basketball, and go fishing, leaving Mom at home. You see, she's put in so much effort to raise us and take care of the household chores; she needs to have some enjoyment in life. I think she's taken very good care of us and sacrificed a lot of her youth."

Dad said: "Jimmy, you're right. We really do owe your mother a lot."

Mom interrupted Dad, saying, "Alright, alright. Stop talking. I never asked you to give me a medal. I'm just doing what I should do. I'd do anything for this family."

I continued, "Mom, I know. I'm so old now, and I'm only now realizing how much you've sacrificed for this family. I remember your love for me. I've thought of something I can do for you, and it's easy. Mom, I want you to know that next time I go on a business trip, please come with me. I don't know when the next trip will be, or where I'll be going, but I want to take you with me."

She asked, "What did you say?" My words surprised her greatly.

"I'm telling the truth. You don't have to decide right away; you can think about it carefully."

"Son, that's a good idea," Dad patted my shoulder and said. He also said to his mother, "Why don't you go with Jimmy? He'll take care of whatever you want to buy or do."

"Dad, yes, you can come along if you like."

"Thank you, son. But I have a different perspective on enjoying life. I'd rather go to a quiet beach than a bustling city. What good places haven't I been? I don't think I need to be included. But I know your mother loves shopping, sightseeing, and shoppering. If you're willing to take her, she certainly won't refuse. Give her time to think it over."

I said to my mother, "Mom, you can think about it for as long as you want. But what I said today comes from my heart, and I will never go back on my word. From childhood until now, I've caused you a lot of trouble, made you worry about me, and even hurt your feelings. This is a small token of my gratitude for all of that. I hope you can accept my good intentions." After saying that, she looked up at me.

"And, not only that, I want to do more for you. I'll take you out for a walk every week. From now on, you can choose one day every week, and I'll take you shopping, to eat out, or to see a movie. You can do whatever you want, as long as you're willing. However, this kind of treatment doesn't apply to Dad."

I winked at my father and then smiled as I continued.

"This is a matter between a mother and son. Every week, I do something for my dear mother, something she wants to do. I call this day Mother's Night."

Her eyes were fixed on me, her expression utterly bewildered. Dad, seeing Mom's stunned expression, said, "Jimmy, what's wrong with you today? You're completely different, making me look at you differently. I remember not long ago I scolded you for spending all your time with your girlfriend, not with your parents."

"After you scolded me that time, I learned my lesson. People change." I seemed to be responding to Dad, but I was actually speaking to Mom.

As I spoke, I looked directly into Mom's eyes, and her eyes welled up with tears.

Mom asked, "What have I done that deserves such a big fuss?"

I replied, "All mothers in the world are great, and they all deserve their sons' filial piety. It's just that sons often don't know how to love them, instead causing them sadness and heartache. I just want you to understand how much I love you and care about you. If you allow me, I will confess my feelings to you and do anything for you."

Hearing me say this, she started to cry. Caught completely off guard, she was moved by my sincerity.

Dad said, "Honey, isn't that wonderful? Your son wasn't lying. He loves you so much, and I'm so comforted." He then hugged her.

"Jimmy, that's wonderful. Many children wouldn't think of their parents like you do. You've changed so much, I'm so happy. Look, your mom's crying with joy too."

I saw Mom trying her best to suppress her emotions, but tears kept falling. I took a handkerchief from my pocket and wiped her tears. But she cried even harder. Seeing this, Dad said, "Honey, you're crying like this. You should be laughing. I need to go to the bathroom. I think Jimmy can make you laugh, so you should have a good talk with your son. He's been so good today, so take advantage of this opportunity to get some benefits from him, so he won't change his mind later."

After Dad left, Mom said to me in a half-coquettish voice, "You're saying it's all true? Why are you so good to me?"

I said to her, "Mom, it's all the truth. I want to prove to you that what I said is true. You won't break us up just because I made one mistake. I know I was wrong, please give me a chance. You know how much I want you."

Suddenly, her face lit up, and she stopped crying and started laughing. I wiped away her tears and snot and asked her, "Are you still angry with me?"

She shook her head, took my hand, and led me into the kitchen. She grabbed my hand, leaned over, and pressed me against the refrigerator, sucking on my lips like a parched land receiving rain.

I've tasted the lips of countless women, but none were as sweet as my mother's. After the kiss, we remained nestled in each other's arms, my erection pressing against her thigh, her head resting on my shoulder, constantly telling me how much she missed me after our falling out. I knew what she meant without her saying it.

"Mom, now I understand what lovesickness is. I miss you so much. Can you come over tonight?"

"I'm afraid not. An old friend of ours is coming tonight, and I have to stay home," she said breathlessly.

"Can I come over?"

"No. I'm afraid I'll be distracted with you here."

"Then when can I make love to you?"

I covered her firm breasts with my hands; her intense trembling made it difficult for her to speak. She kissed my neck and whispered in my ear, "Darling, tomorrow I'll be yours."

Just then, we heard my father's heavy footsteps. Mom moved away, brushed her blonde hair aside, and went to the oven to take out the pie. Feeling guilty, like a thief caught in the act, afraid my father would notice the bulge in my crotch, I quickly turned my back to him to hide it.

My father said, "I see it seems fine. Jimmy, I thought you only knew how to please your girlfriend, but I didn't realize you were so good at it, making your mother laugh and cry like a little girl." Then he asked my mother, "Did you accept our son's suggestion?"

"No need to say anything. He treated me so well, if I didn't accept, I'd be letting him down, and myself down too," my mother said, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

My father asked, "So, when did you two first go on your date?"

Suddenly, I felt a surge of heat throughout my body and said, "Dad, that wasn't a date."

"Young master, of course it was a date. You'd better dress smartly, because she'll definitely want you to take her to a fancy restaurant."

I said to my mother, "So when? Where do you want to go?"

She smiled and said to me, "You'd better be prepared to prove what you're saying is true."

I said, "Definitely."

I continued, "Then, I have a date with you."

We ate cookies, drank coffee, and chatted for a while. Dad was watching the final match on TV, and gradually only Mom and I were talking. I had to go to work, and Mom saw me to the door. Outside the door, with her back to Dad, she secretly gave me a kiss.

Mom said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's all my fault. This is what you deserve."

(VII) Dating Status

The day after we reconciled, we could only meet briefly and make love naked. As soon as Mom stepped into the door, I started to take off her clothes. I pulled down her underwear and inserted my penis into Mom's wet vagina.

That lovemaking was like a storm, a release of long-accumulated desires.

And this was just a rehearsal for what I called Mother's Night. We decided to be each other's lifelong sexual partners. Dad won't touch her anymore, and I promised to be "faithful" to her. Even if I get married someday, we'll maintain a sexual relationship no matter what.

Mom and I; we talk about sex, we make love, but we've developed a new understanding.

After that, Mom and I "dated" again.

The Monday after I made my "declaration of love" was our first "Mother's Night." I called Mom from my office and asked if she could come to my house earlier, preferably in the afternoon.

Mom said, "You know I can't. We agreed with your dad it would be in the evening. My darling, please be patient. Also, I have some things to do."

I asked, "Mom! What is it?"

Mom said, "Wait a minute. I can't tell you now, I'll save it for a surprise. I'll call you later to tell you when I'll arrive."

I thought, "What kind of surprise could it be? I have no idea," but it must be something good. So I stopped thinking about it.

After work, I waited for the phone at home. It rang at 7 p.m. Her tone was meant for Dad to hear: "Hello, is this Jimmy? Tonight's a big night, are you ready?"

"Mom, everything's ready. Where are we going?"

"I've reserved a table. Just get dressed and wait for me. I'll be there around 8 p.m."

"I'll come pick you up."

"No need, I'll go to your house first."

Forty minutes later, she called again.

"Hey, you'd better not wear anything, because I'll strip you naked when I get there."

"Okay, Mom. Don't worry."

At that time, I was only wearing "underwear."

I thought to myself, since Mom is in that mood and wants to play around with me, I might as well take off my underwear too. Ten minutes later, the phone rang. I saw it was her, and my penis was already hard.

She walked in talking, "My God, the date has only just begun, tonight's entertainment is going to be amazing." My erect penis had already attracted her attention.

I said, "You're right." I pulled her into my arms, and we started kissing. Our tongues were on fire, our kiss was passionate. After the kiss, she gently pushed me away and said, "Jimmy, wait a minute, I have something to show you. Sit on the sofa like a good girl."

I obediently sat down, and Mom stood in front of me, taking off her coat. Underneath, she wore a black backless dress, her back completely bare, even her buttocks were partially exposed, and it was obvious at a glance that she wasn't wearing a bra.

She struck a pose, showing me her dress, and then slowly pulled it down. Two milky white breasts jumped out from the black fabric, and my eyes couldn't help but linger on the protruding nipples on her chest. She noticed me staring at that part of her body, paused, and asked, "Can we continue?"

I said, "Oh! Please continue."

Mom continued to take off her skirt, which fell to the floor. She was left only in her lace bikini bottoms, fishnet stockings, and high heels.

I stood up and stared at her. My expression made Mom look anxious, and she asked, "Do I look good?"

"Mom, you're absolutely stunning."

"It's alright. I thought you wouldn't like it." She seemed not to believe me. As she spoke, she turned around, like a model, giving me a full view of her figure.

I pointed to her panties and said, "

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A mother and son having an affair behind their father's back

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