son's penis

I spoiled my son, and so did my wife, giving him whatever he wanted, treating him like a little emperor. Sometimes I worried he might become too domineering, but surprisingly, he wasn't like other children. He was well-behaved, didn't cause trouble, and was usually quiet, looking around curiously. Looking at him, I felt a surge of energy. I knew I had to prepare a large fortune for him so he could live a life of comfort and security when he grew up. I worked even harder to manage my appliance store. Within two years, I had four chain stores in the city. My wife stayed home full-time to take care of the children.
Years passed in the blink of an eye. My son was now a fifteen-year-old boy, looking a lot like me, but with a different personality—more like a girl. He loved being with his mother, probably because I rarely spent time with him at home. But being quiet was good; he wouldn't cause trouble, unlike my colleague's child, who was always fighting at school, requiring daily home visits from teachers. My colleague was constantly worried and always envied me for having such a well-behaved son. I'm content.
Life's been pretty good, but things at home are slowly changing.
One morning, as I got up to go to the bathroom, I saw my wife washing her face, and my fifteen-year-old son was hugging and kissing his mother behind her. I've seen him like this often these days. Still acting like a child. I chuckled dismissively, "What are you doing, kid? Trying to take advantage of your mother?!" My son looked at his mother, turned to me with a grin, and walked away. My wife glared at me and scolded, "What? Jealous of our son? Spend more time with us when you're free." I glanced at her and said, "I want to, but the whole family depends on me for food." My wife came over and smiled, "My dear boss, it's not that serious." I pulled her over. She's thirty-seven this year, but even more beautiful and charming than before, her figure hasn't changed at all. My heart skipped a beat, and I patted her bottom. My wife pushed me away, scolding, "Alright, we're an old married couple, don't let the kids see." "Hey, even our son can do that, but I can't handle a pat?" "Okay, you know, he's still young. He's always been with me, you should go to work."
I glanced at my watch, oh, it was almost time. I quickly washed my face, got dressed, and left. My wife and son stood at the door, saying goodbye. These two have been very kind to me lately. Before, only my wife would see me off, but recently even my son often comes to the door to see me off. It seems this child has really grown up. It feels so good to have a home. I went to work full of confidence.

When I arrived at the company, the employees were already open. Usually, there are few customers in the morning, so we just do some preparation work. When I entered the office, my colleague was already there. He was looking at the news on his computer and said to me, "Boss! I saw your wife and a man going to the movies yesterday, they were so affectionate!" This guy, he jokes about us, this old man and young woman, every day when he sees me. I don't mind, and he goes on and on without restraint.
"Hey, boss. I'm talking about you. No reaction at all?" This guy is getting cocky again.
"Okay, I believe you. Did you see who it was?"
"Yes."
"Who?" I had no choice but to play along.
"Your son! Hahaha!" my colleague said, laughing to himself.
I ignored him, sat down in my chair, and looked at next month's purchasing plan. This guy wasn't done yet; he came over again. "Hey boss, are you up to it? Your wife's so young, but you're not so young anymore. It might damage our manly image, right? Want me to get you some Viagra or something?"
I smiled and ignored him. But to be honest, after all these years of running a business, I'm really starting to feel the strain. Luckily, my wife doesn't seem interested in that kind of thing, and she's usually fine. I don't want those aphrodisiacs ruining my health, that lazy bum.
My colleague saw I wasn't saying anything, laughed for a while, and then went back to work.
A little while later, my secretary, Xiao Zhang, came in asking for a floppy disk. She'd copied a copy of the third quarter's budget for me yesterday, which I'd taken home and revised. This morning, after arguing with my wife, I'd completely forgotten about it. I hadn't brought the floppy disk. Well, I happened to have some business to attend to at the Industry and Commerce Bureau anyway, so I decided to go home to get the disk and stop by the Bureau on the way.
I drove up to the front door, and my son rushed out. He paused for a moment when he saw me, then quickly lowered his head. I said, "Hurry up, son! What's wrong with you? It's so late. Didn't you get up early?" He mumbled something and left with his mountain bike.
I took off my shoes and went inside. The living room floor had been mopped, but the bedrooms hadn't. My son's room was tidy, but our master bedroom was still a mess. Sigh, my wife had been busy all morning, and this was all she did? "Honey!" I called out loudly. "Oh, it's you! Why are you back?" My wife's voice came from the bathroom. What's going on? Didn't she shower this morning? Why is she showering again now?
I didn't bother thinking about it anymore. I went to the study to get a floppy disk. My wife came out of the bathroom, her hair disheveled and her face flushed. "What are you doing? Letting our son go to school so late. You, as his mother, should remind him," I said. "Okay, okay, he said his neck hurt a bit, so I checked it out for him," my wife said, not daring to look at me, and walked past me. "You tidy up the house, I'm going," I said, picking up the floppy disk and about to leave when the phone rang. I picked it up and answered; it was my son's teacher. She said he'd been frequently late lately and had even missed two classes, something that had never happened before. Although I was a little angry, I still told her that my son hadn't been feeling well lately. The teacher said my son was twenty minutes late again today and was being stopped at the door by the teacher on duty. I asked the teacher to let my son come over to the phone and scolded him a few times. Actually, I still love my son; he's a late-in-life child. My son admitted his mistake and then hung up.
When he came home from school that evening, I naturally gave him a lecture, asking him why he was always late. My wife explained for him, "He hasn't been feeling well lately." I said, "Don't spoil him too much; I think he's just lazy!" My son, who had been silent with his head down, smiled but didn't argue. However, I was also worried that my son might actually be sick, so I said, "If he's really feeling unwell, go to the hospital for a checkup." My wife said, "Yes, Mom will take you to the hospital another day." My son replied, "Okay," and then went back to eating.
The next morning, before I left home, I specifically reminded my son, "Go to school right after breakfast, don't dawdle." My son nodded, and as usual, my wife and I saw me off.
After arriving at the electronics store and working for a while, I called the school: "Ms. Li? My son wasn't late today, was he?" Ms. Li replied, "No.""Hey, I saw you lectured him yesterday." "Oh, not at all, it really depends on you teachers." I then boasted about how well I'd managed to get my son into school. Teacher Li listened for a while, then said, "But he's been having trouble concentrating lately, he keeps spacing out in class. You should ask him what's wrong." "Okay, thanks, Teacher Li." I hung up. My colleague immediately came over.
"Haha, buddy, you've finally met your match! How does it feel to have the teacher complain?"
"Come on, my son isn't fighting, he's just a kid, he's not focused in class. I don't know why." I said. My colleague got excited again, "Hey, buddy, you're a man, don't you ever care about your son? Don't you think about why he's so inattentive at this age?" I looked at him and said, "Why? I really don't know." "Oh my, my boss," my colleague slapped his thigh, "Adolescence, buddy! Didn't you go through that too?" "Yes, now that my colleague says that, it really makes sense. This kid is fifteen this year, way past puberty, he must be thinking about girls. Sigh, I can understand, we've been through the same thing before." Thinking this to myself, I felt much better. In a few years, it'll be fine. Everyone has to go through this. As long as he doesn't do anything bad or follow others astray, it'll be fine.
That evening, I casually asked my son about school and then why he wasn't concentrating in class. He didn't answer, only saying, "I'll change it later." This kid, he's not telling the truth. Actually, I know who would tell the truth anyway. I was just asserting my fatherly authority. Lying in bed that night, I asked my wife about our son's recent behavior. My wife said, "Nothing special, don't overthink it. Boys are like this when they grow up." This coincided with what my colleague had said, so I felt relieved. She also told me not to worry too much, that she would take good care of our son. I thought so too; my wife loves our son very much, and they're very close. He would definitely tell her anything, and she wouldn't stand idly by while he was behaving badly. I
inexplicably didn't sleep well that night. I thought about it and felt I bore some responsibility. I was worried that if my son made bad friends outside and didn't tell his mother, things would get complicated. He's my family's only son, and I'm not exactly young anymore. I might not have paid much attention to him before, but now I need to be more attentive to him. From now on, I'll start paying close attention to his behavior; a strict father and a loving mother are essential for a good son. Teenagers have so many problems, I need to be careful. So I secretly resolved to keep an eye on my son. Of course, I didn't dare tell my wife, lest she accuse me of infringing on our son's rights, which would damage my image as a father.
A few days later, I had some free time, so I borrowed a colleague's new car. Using it as cover, I drove to the corner near my apartment building after arriving at the company. My colleague's car had sunshade film on it, so you couldn't see inside from the outside. I sat in the back, and even from the un-filmed side, it was hard to see me, and even if you could, you couldn't see me clearly.
Soon after, my son rushed off, buttoning his clothes as he ran, his hair disheveled, his face a little red, and he pushed his bicycle away. My wife called from the balcony, "Don't ride too fast, there's still time, be careful on the road!" I leaned my head against the car window and looked up at the balcony. My wife, wearing pajamas and with her hair disheveled, was watching our son's retreating figure. When I left this morning, she had already changed out of her pajamas and was even making breakfast in an apron. Why was she changed again now?
I followed behind my son in my car, watching him pedal hard, speeding towards school, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Nothing happened. I didn't see him going off to meet any bad friends.
The next day I followed him again. This time he was punctual, coming down early, his clothes neat and tidy. His wife, seeing him off on the balcony, was also dressed neatly, just like I had seen him leave that morning. Strange, it was different from yesterday.
Why was he different in two days? Why was he dressed neatly the day before, ready to leave for school, but now he was disheveled? I felt the problem lay at home. I suddenly desperately wanted to know what was going on at home, so I decided to find a hiding place.
On the third day, while my wife was making breakfast in the kitchen, my son went to the bathroom. I took the opportunity to open the door and say, "I'm not eating breakfast, I'm leaving." But I didn't leave. I slammed the door shut and quickly hid under the bed in my room. It's ridiculous that the head of the household had to hide under the bed.
A while later, the sound of running water came from the bathroom, and the son came out. The two sat down at the dining table. The wife said, "Your dad's acting strange today. He seemed to be in a hurry and left without eating." The son said, "Maybe he had something urgent." The wife didn't say anything, and the two began to eat breakfast. In the dining room, the mother and son's low voices could be heard. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could feel their affection. The wife occasionally giggled. I peeked out from under the bed and could see a corner of the dining room. The mother and son were sitting very close, almost touching. The son even rubbed his leg against his wife's leg. They were so clingy! The wife really spoiled him like that. As they ate, the son's hand reached down, lifted the wife's skirt, and touched her thigh, stroking it back and forth. No way! My head suddenly felt like it was going to explode. This kid, how could he do this!
"Alright, hurry up and eat, you have to go to school," the wife said reproachfully.
"Mom," the son said sweetly, "It's still early today. Didn't you say we could come every other day?"
"You're always thinking about this, instead of studying properly. Your dad's already scolded you," the wife said.
"I know, I'm really serious now. I'll definitely do well on the midterms, Mom, don't worry, I promise you," the son patted his chest. As he spoke, his thigh brushed against his wife's lap again. I saw his wife's arms encircle his son, and he sat on her lap. They embraced, and I could hear their kissing sounds. Good heavens, I felt dizzy. I wanted to rush out immediately, but... what could I say? One was my only son, the other my beloved wife. What could I do? If I rushed out, how could I save face? How would it end? I held back. I couldn't go out. In fact, I was afraid to go out.
The wife pushed her son away: "Go downstairs and see if your dad's car is still there?"
The son excitedly ran downstairs like a whirlwind, full of energy, and rushed back in less than half a minute: "It's gone!"
"Okay, then close the door," the wife said. The son closed the door and immediately threw himself into his mother's arms. "Not here," the wife said. "Then, let's go to my room, okay? We haven't been to my room yet," the son said. "Okay," the wife agreed. Then, I saw their feet slowly walking towards the son's room, walking very slowly, stopping and starting, and then disappearing. Then I heard the sound of the door closing. A moment later, I heard the son's bed creak heavily, and my heart sank to the bottom. My
heart was filled with mixed emotions; I lay under the bed, seemingly without the strength to even move. My mind was blank. Soon, I heard sounds coming from inside the room again. It was the sound of adults doing it, very intense, along with my son's heavy breathing. My wife was also panting, occasionally whispering, "Gently, don't rush, gently, don't tire yourself out." But the intense sounds continued; my son must have been working very hard. My hands trembled. After a while, things gradually quieted down. The door opened. I heard the mother and son whispering as they hurried out. When their feet came into view, I noticed my wife's high heels were gone; she was barefoot. My son had changed from his leather shoes to slippers, and he wasn't wearing socks.
"Hurry up, you have to go to school. I told you not to be so rough, but you wouldn't listen," my wife whispered.
"Mom, you're so good to me, I couldn't help it," my son said, moving closer to his wife.
"Alright, hurry up, go to school. You'll be late. Or, Mom can take you."
"No need. I've said I'm a man, I don't need Mom to take me. My classmates will laugh at me. Besides, Teacher Li said parents shouldn't pick us up or drop us off. We need to develop good independent habits."
"Come on, you call yourself independent? You're always clinging to Mom. Okay, go ahead."
My wife went into our room. I noticed she was only wearing pajamas today, and definitely nothing underneath. Then she sat on the bed above my head, creaked around for a bit, and put on her clothes before leaving.
"Goodbye, Mom." My son said,
"Goodbye, be careful on the way."
The door closed, and my son's footsteps came from the hallway, sounding hurried.
My wife rushed into the room, ran to the balcony, leaned down, and shouted, "Slow down! Be careful on the way!"
I saw her stand on the balcony for a full five minutes before slowly turning back.Her steps became sluggish. After sitting on the bed for a while, she got up and left. Judging from the sound, she seemed to be cleaning outside, but her movements were very slow, stopping and starting intermittently. Occasionally, she would come into the room, open the wardrobe, and then close it again.
After a long time, I heard her dial a phone: "Hello, Sister Mei? Is everyone here? I'm ready, I'll be right there." I knew she was going to play mahjong with her friends. Soon, she locked the door and left. Only
after hearing the sound of an Alto car fading away downstairs did I crawl out from under the bed.
The restaurant was cleaned up, and the chairs were all placed against the tables. My son's room was tidy and organized, even the trash can was empty. In the bathroom, I saw my wife's underwear hanging on the hanger, still dripping, and the mirror was still fogged up. I glanced at the trash can and noticed it was overflowing. A thought struck me, and I went over to search it carefully. What I found made my hands and feet go weak, and my heart pounded as if it would burst: several wads of toilet paper stained with sticky fluid, a twisted condom with a clear liquid inside that felt warm to the touch. I collapsed to the floor.
That evening, when I got home and looked at my son and wife, I really didn't know what to do. But for the sake of my pride, I could only swallow my anger and wait and see. My wife sensed my change. That night in bed, with my back to her, she leaned against me, her warm body pressed against mine. "What's wrong? You don't look well," she asked with concern.
"Nothing, I'm probably just too tired," I lied, trying to cover it up. "Let me massage you." Before I could say no, my wife's hands were already massaging my shoulders. Her full breasts pressed against my back, so soft. My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't help but think of her with our son that morning. I thought I would be angry, but strangely, I felt a strange surge of desire. To be honest, it had been a long time since I'd made love with my wife. I tried to stop myself from thinking about it, but the creaking of the bed that morning kept echoing in my ears. Suddenly, I rolled over and landed on top of my wife. My erection was incredibly strong, which was quite rare.
My wife sensed it too. She wrapped her arms around my neck and said coquettishly, "No way, how come you're so strong?" I didn't say anything, nor did I want to. I just felt a kind of pent-up frustration. I roughly tore open my wife's pajamas and underwear, spread her legs, and then thrust hard into her. "Ah," my wife moaned softly. "You jerk, slow down, why are you in such a hurry?" I panted heavily, ignoring her, and just kept pushing in. My wife's vagina was still very dry, and it was difficult for me to penetrate, but hearing her moans gave me a sense of revenge. I thrust desperately, and soon I was inside my wife's deepest point. Perhaps my wife felt a little guilty towards me, because she quickly began to respond to me passionately, her waist twisting like a snake. Was she like this with our son too? I was even more aroused, gritting my teeth and thrusting hard, each time reaching her very core. Soon, my wife began to moan, and her vagina secreted a lot of fluid. It felt so good; I hadn't felt this way in a long time. I thrust vigorously, making the bed creak. After dozens of thrusts, before I even thought about ejaculating, the pleasure washed over me, and I couldn't help but ejaculate the semen that had been accumulating for over two months. My wife clung tightly to me, savoring this last bit of pleasure.
I collapsed onto my wife's body, panting heavily. She gently patted my back and said, "Tell me honestly, what triggered you today? Why are you suddenly so intense?" I let out a long sigh: "Nothing, it's been a while. If I don't come soon, my wife might run off with someone else."
"You, if you're tired, don't be so impulsive and talk nonsense," she scolded.
"It seems like we haven't done it in a long time, don't you? Do you ever crave it?" I joked.
"Come on, you old lecher. I do crave it, so what? We have a child, what's there to crave? We're an old married couple. Do you have some kind of problem outside? Trying to pressure me with this?" My wife laughed as she spoke.
"Do you think I have a problem?" I asked her with a forced smile.
"You're disgusted with us, mother and son," my wife pouted.
"Okay, go to sleep," I said, speechless. To be honest, I hadn't figured out what to do yet. After venting, I felt a bit calmer, so I lowered my head and fell asleep.
The next day, I felt completely listless. I decided not to go to work. To be honest, I didn't want to give them, mother and son, any opportunity. I lay in bed watching them brush their teeth, wash their faces, and eat breakfast. My son's face was full of disappointment. He only left the house after my wife nudged him. After he left, my wife asked if I wanted to see a doctor. I said I didn't want to. My wife looked at me and saw that I didn't seem to be seriously ill. She took my temperature, which was normal. So she was relieved.
"Serves you right for being so vigorous last night!" my wife said, tapping my forehead. "You're not young anymore. Be more careful. Why are you trying to be so reckless?" My heart skipped a beat. Yes, I'm almost fifty, while my wife is in her prime. Although I'm wealthy, some things money can't buy. From this perspective, it's quite normal, especially since she hasn't been messing around outside; that man is my own son. Their mother-son bond is understandable. Oh God, why did I even think of this? My mind is a jumbled mess, and my head feels heavy again. Thinking about it, I drifted off to sleep again.
I stayed home for two days, perfectly calm. On the third day, I reluctantly got up. I really didn't want to go to the company; I really wanted to stay home every day, not giving them a chance. But things can't go on like this forever. Maybe one day something new will happen, maybe one day my son will realize the consequences and stop on his own. Thinking this way, I felt much more at ease. Yes, he'll leave this family someday. Family scandals shouldn't be aired in public. There's so much to do at the company, so I pulled myself together and went to work.
I went downstairs, but after only a few steps, I stopped. I suddenly wanted to go back and see what the mother and son were doing. I really wanted to see, I really wanted to know, and I didn't even know why. A force pulled me back. I made up my mind to look again, otherwise I'd feel uneasy.
I went upstairs, pretending I'd forgotten something. After entering the house, when my son went into the bathroom, I pretended to leave, slamming the door shut like last time, and quietly slipped back under my bed.
A little while later, my son came out of the bathroom. He didn't go back to the living room, but went straight into the kitchen. Soon, I heard laughter from the kitchen. I figured it must be my son groping his mother's thigh again. After a while, the two of them came out of the kitchen. I saw their four legs were very close together. They walked all the way to the big sofa and then fell down. My wife's face was facing my bedroom. I was startled. Luckily, the bedspread was low and it was dark under the bed. I thought she definitely wouldn't see me, so I continued to look out boldly.
After a while, the wife pushed him away, saying, "Sweetie, eat breakfast first, take care of yourself." "No!" the son clung to his mother, "Mom, give it to me, I've missed you so much. Dad's been home these past few days, and I could hardly contain myself. This morning the school installed computers in the classrooms, so we had a day off. And since Dad's better, I can stay home and spend time with you."
"But you still have to eat breakfast first," the wife said, trying to sit up, but her son pushed her back down onto the sofa. "Please, Mom, just this once!" he pleaded, eagerly starting to unbutton his wife's nightgown. She tried to push him away, but couldn't resist, so she gave in. She tapped him on the forehead, scolding, "You... I don't know what I owed you in my past life, sigh." Then she lay back down on the sofa. The son lifted his mother's nightgown, and as I expected, she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Two smooth, snow-white thighs were immediately revealed, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of desire. It was strange. My son quickly pulled down his shorts. The little guy had really grown up; he was a bit pale, but his legs were still quite muscular. I suddenly felt a little lost. Was this really my son? How could such a tiny baby have grown so much in the blink of an eye?
My son nestled against my wife, and the two of them intertwined, their necks twisting and turning as they kissed. Soon, my wife opened her legs, her hands reaching down to my son's groin, grasping his penis, and slowly guiding it between her legs. She patted his back and softly said, "Good boy, come on."
The son lifted his wife's arm and thrust hard. With a "whoosh," his penis slid in all the way. He groaned, and his wife let out a long sigh. In that instant, my own penis hardened. And so, the son began his thrusting motion. His wife gently kissed his face, stroking his hair. Good heavens, I was witnessing something I hadn't wanted to see for days. My mind went blank, but my body was pounding with excitement. The son continued to thrust into his wife, feeling her tightness, her contractions, and her lubrication. He lowered his head, rubbing his face against his mother's chest. "Mom, you're so good. I've been waiting for so long!"
"Good son, be gentle, don't tire yourself out," his wife gently responded, accepting his thrusts. She didn't show much excitement; she maintained the reserve of a mother. I suddenly felt that she was like a sponge, silently absorbing her son's youthful restlessness.
A few minutes later, the son stirred a few times and lay stiffly on top of his mother. They both caught their breath for a while; the wife wiped his sweat, and the son's hands lingered on his wife's chest for a while before he sat up.
The wife ran to the kitchen and brought out breakfast. The two sat at the table, chatting and laughing as they ate. I didn't know my son had the morning off. Now, I was stuck lying quietly under the bed. Luckily, it was spacious enough. I turned to my side, letting out a slight sigh of relief, feeling completely exhausted, like I'd just finished making love.
I closed my eyes, listening to them talk at the table. Breakfast was quickly finished. I hoped they would go out so I could escape. Good heavens, I had to escape even in my own home. This was so embarrassing.
The wife tidied the table, and the son went into the bathroom to shower. I saw an opportunity to slip away, but as soon as I peeked out, the phone rang. I quickly retreated. The wife ran out. "Hello, this is Sister Mei. Oh, today... I'm afraid I can't make it today. Oh, yes, something came up at home. Yes, I can't come over. Okay, okay, you can have Xiao Fang cover for me for the day. Sorry, I'll definitely come tomorrow. Okay, morning tea at Deyuelou is on me. I'll definitely be there tomorrow. Bye-bye." That was even better; no more mahjong.
As soon as she hung up, her son rushed out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Mom, you're so great!" The boy kissed his wife on the cheek. "You, I'm only doing this for you. Go back and shower, you'll catch a cold." "Long live Mom!" the son shouted as he ran back to the bathroom.
Soon, the son finished washing up. The little rascal came out wearing only his underwear. His wife grabbed a large bath towel and wrapped it around him. The son immediately started clinging to his mother, becoming restless. His wife gently pulled away, saying, "Silly boy, you're making me breathless. Stop it, let Mom wash first, okay? You can do it later." The son then let go of his wife, and she went into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water filled the air. The son paced back and forth in the living room, seemingly impatient. The sound of water from the bathroom grew louder and louder. Finally, the son couldn't resist any longer, took off his towel, and ran to the bathroom.
After a while, his wife's voice was heard: "Oh, son, what are you doing in here? Quick, get out!"
"Okay, Mom, let me wash with you," the son said.
"No... Oh, don't do that... Okay, okay, stop touching me like that, I'm fed up with you, alright, let's shower together." All
I could hear were the mother and son laughing and joking in the bathroom. I strained my ears to listen, completely forgetting to slip away. By the time I realized what was happening, they were already wrapped in towels, coming out. Their legs were pressed together as they walked towards our bedroom; I figured they must have been hugging very tightly.
As soon as they entered the bedroom, my son impatiently pushed my wife onto the bed. There was a loud thud as she fell onto the bed above my head. Damn it, this kid, he's not even gentle with his own mother, so impatient! Then I heard my son also pounce on the bed, and I heard a creaking sound above my head. At that moment, I adjusted my neck and inadvertently noticed that the large dressing mirror opposite me reflected their bodies embracing. The mirror was directly facing the bed! I looked carefully. It was dark under the bed, and it would be difficult to notice someone in the mirror, especially since they were so excited right now; they wouldn't expect someone to be under the bed. So I felt a little relieved. Okay, I'll see what they usually do!
I saw my son and wife kissing tightly on my big bed. They were lying flat, embracing each other, their legs crossed. My son's hand, through the bath towel on my wife's body, was constantly kneading her breasts. After a long time, they finally separated. The wife brushed her disheveled hair aside and tapped her son's forehead: "You little rascal, you've already done it once, and you want to do it again?" The son immediately hugged his wife again: "You have no idea how happy I am! Today I can finally stay home and spend time with Mom." "Pah!" the wife scoffed, "Who knows who's spending time with whom!" She gently pulled away: "Silly boy, you're making it hard for me to breathe."
The son, however, hugged her even tighter, his right hand groping her chest. His wife's breathing grew heavier. The son placed his hand on his wife's towel and said, "Mom, I finally have a day off today. I want to look at you properly. My beautiful mother."
The wife looked at her son's flushed face and said softly, "Okay, Mom will do as you say this morning."
Encouraged, the son immediately pulled off his mother's towel. She wasn't wearing anything underneath! Her beautiful body was suddenly revealed to my son, and my breath caught in my throat. To be honest, it had been a long time since I had seen my wife's body so completely. We usually made love in bed, and I had neglected this. I never imagined that after more than ten years of marriage, my wife's body would still be so well-maintained! Her breasts were still firm, and although her lower abdomen had become a little fuller, it only made her look more mature and voluptuous. Her legs were very white and long, and her snow-white skin was almost flawless. At that moment, I really wanted to reach out and touch her; she was my wife! But now I could only lie on the floor, watching my son's hands roam over my wife's body. My
son knelt down beside my wife's feet, bent over, and stroked my wife's soft ankles with his hands, kissing my wife's calves with his lips. My wife's two beautiful feet were shyly hooked together, and her two white and slender legs were completely exposed to my son's eyes. She looked at my son shyly, letting him slowly kiss her legs. The son continued kissing upwards, and soon he reached his wife's inner thighs. Instinctively, his wife clamped her legs together, shyly turning her head away. "Mom," the son softly called, forcefully prying his wife's legs apart. She resisted slightly, then let him open them.
At that moment, I heard the son take a deep breath. This kid must be staring intently at his mother's private parts! The son stood there stunned for a moment. The wife looked up, scolding, "What are you looking at? What's so interesting?" Saying this, she straightened her upper body, clamped her legs together, and pulled her son into her arms, preventing him from looking any further.At that moment, her white breasts were exposed to her son. He immediately embraced his wife tightly, his hands cupping her two prominent breasts. A warm, soft sensation filled his hands. He lovingly caressed her warm, dovetail-like breasts, then pushed her back onto the bed, lowering his head to take one of her rosy nipples into his mouth. His wife moaned, "Don't be so rough, child," she said, pressing her son's head down. He lay on top of her, greedily suckling at one of her breasts, just like when he was a baby. His hand kneaded the other. His wife looked at him tenderly, her eyes filled with maternal love. I think she must have been thinking of breastfeeding him as a child. She gently stroked his hair, letting him kiss her full breasts freely. The son moved his phone to his wife's thigh: "Mom, I never expected you to be so tender and soft." 　　　His wife scolded, "You naughty boy, how do you know that's tender? Who have you touched before?" 　　　"I only touch my beautiful mother." This kid has a sweet tongue.

My wife spread her legs wider and reached out to untie the towel covering our son. The boy had inherited my physique; he was quite sturdy.
He slipped his hand between her legs, stroking a patch of soft hair. My wife stopped him, saying, "Good boy, don't touch there, okay?" He raised his hand, and I could see something shiny on it. My wife's lower body was still wet! It must have been from what happened on the sofa earlier! He glanced mischievously at his wife, who blushed even more: "It's all because of what you did earlier." She pulled him onto her, their flawless bodies intertwined.
He climbed on top of her and inserted a finger into her vagina, encountering no resistance. He whispered in her ear, "Mom, it's still quite wet inside." She covered her eyes with her arm: "You little rascal, don't embarrass me." Her fragrant breath enveloped him.
"My dear mother!" the son exclaimed excitedly, pressing his hand against his wife. Their lips immediately met, and he passionately sucked on his mother's soft, moist tongue, kissing her intensely. Despite being only fifteen, his kissing technique was quite similar to hers. Good lad, I wonder who he learned it from. Did he learn it all from his wife? His wife wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss passionately, sucking on his tongue. The two of them kissed passionately on the bed, greedily enjoying each other's warmth, their breathing growing heavier.
After a long while, the son released his mother's lips and kissed her lower. His wife closed her eyes, tilted her chin up, and quietly enjoyed her son's passionate kiss. Seeing her enjoying it so much, my heart ached. Had I not been kind enough to her? Or perhaps I had overlooked her feelings? As a woman, a mature woman, what was she thinking? I drifted off into thought. Then my wife let out a soft hum, and I snapped out of my reverie. I looked in the mirror and saw that my son was kissing my wife's genitals. Good heavens, I've never kissed there before!
My son was gently sucking on my wife's thick pubic hair with his tongue, but he didn't put his tongue inside her vagina; perhaps he didn't know how. My wife let out a heavy sigh, bent her legs, and sandwiched my son's head between them. After playing with his mother's pubic hair for a while, my son continued downwards, kissing my wife's legs. His buttocks were facing the mirror, and I could clearly see that a lot of dark hair had grown between his legs. Sigh, my son has grown up; his thing is already bulging with veins. The little guy's thing is quite big, though I think it's not as big as mine.
At this moment, my wife reached out her slender hand and grasped my son's penis, kneading it. "Ah, Mom!" my son couldn't help but cry out. He immediately pounced on her, pressing down on her body. Mother and son embraced again, and the son murmured, "Mom, I...I want to go in, okay?" The wife blushed and nodded, opening her legs and grasping her son's engorged penis, slowly guiding it to her vagina. The son lifted his wife's arms and whispered, "Mom, I'm coming!" With a forceful thrust, a "plop" was heard as his penis slid in completely. The son groaned, and the wife exhaled a long breath, her legs instinctively clamping around his penis. They remained still for a moment; the wife gently kissed her son's face, while the son quietly remained inside her, savoring the sensation of her vaginal embrace. The son looked up and said, "Mom, today feels like a dream. I can finally enjoy you."
His wife cupped his face in her hands and said softly, "My good boy, today is my safe period. You don't need to use a condom. Do whatever you want. Just don't overdo it, be gentle."
"Great, Mom…" the son cried out, and began thrusting wildly. I knew that although my wife had given birth, her vagina was still very tight; the inner muscles must have been tightly gripping his penis. He pulled out, then slid back in, pumping wildly. My wife responded with the same rhythm, arching her back to meet his thrusts. Each time he penetrated, his penis went all the way in, and my wife's breathing became increasingly rapid. His penis was quickly soaked with her love juice.
"Son, don't rush, slower, slower…" my wife said tenderly, responding to her son's movements.
But the son didn't stop; instead, he thrust even harder, making the bed creak and groan. He went at it for what seemed like dozens of thrusts before finally stopping, collapsing onto his wife, panting heavily.
His wife gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and said softly, "Son, lie down, let Mom do it, okay?" The son nodded and lay down as instructed. His wife sat up, naked, and sat on his lap. His penis was erect. His wife grasped it and slowly sat down. The son grabbed her waist, and she began to move, her vagina gripping his penis, rubbing it up and down.
"Oh, Mom, it feels so good, so good!" the son cried out.
His wife smiled shyly, her eyes gazing at her son with lustful eyes, and moved even more vigorously. Her hands rested on his chest, her large buttocks swaying ecstatically. Her hair was loose, cascading over her shoulders and breasts, giving her a wild look. My lower body involuntarily hardened. Who would have thought that I was lying under the bed watching my wife make love, and that the other person wasn't me?
My wife's movements gradually quickened, her face flushed, her teeth clenched, and her breasts undulated like waves. Her dark red nipples bounced up and down, incredibly alluring!
I couldn't see my son's expression, but his breathing was loud, and he kept calling out, "Mommy, Mommy!" He even kept thrusting his hips to match my wife's movements. Perhaps he had already ejaculated once, because this time he lasted exceptionally long; even with my wife writhing so intensely, he showed no signs of climaxing.
Soon, the wife also grew tired. Panting, she lay on top of her son. Both mother and son were drenched in sweat, embracing each other. The wife said, "Son, if you can't take it anymore, just ejaculate. You don't have to hold on for so long. Take care of your health."
"No," the son pouted, "Mom, I want to enjoy your body properly. I can do it."
"You, really," the wife tapped her son's head, then reached for the pillowcase beside her and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The son looked at his mother's beautiful face and couldn't help but feel aroused again. "Mom, again!" he said, sitting up and hugging his wife's body. The two rolled onto the bed, and the son pressed down on his wife, engaging in another round of vigorous thrusting. In the throes of passion, the boy even lifted his wife's legs and hoisted them onto his shoulders, letting her vagina grip his penis tightly. He thrust wildly, making his wife moan uncontrollably.
"Mom, you're so good! Mom," the son cried out as he thrust forcefully. His wife, already completely dazed, cried, "Good son, harder... ah, good... ah... good..." She moaned along with him, her hands gripping his back, her nails almost digging into him. Her hips arched high, allowing him to penetrate even deeper. The bed creaked even louder. I lay beneath the bed, barely able to contain myself.
"Mom, I'm coming!"Suddenly, the son cried out, his movements becoming even more violent. In the mirror, their figures looked as if they were being tossed about by the waves. The son thrust wildly a dozen times, then suddenly arched his back, crying out in pain, "Ah...ah..." as all his pent-up desire was released into his mother's body. The wife's eyes were now hazy, her neck glistening with sweat, her breasts full and erect, her pubic hair and thighs wet. She could no longer suppress herself, involuntarily panting and moaning, her legs tightly wrapped around her son's body, savoring this last moment of fullness.
The son remained erect for a few seconds, then collapsed onto his wife. She held him in her arms, her flushed face filled with happiness and the tenderness of maternal love.
The bedroom gradually quieted down as the mother and son recovered from their climax. The son lingered, caressing his mother's soft breasts, while his wife gently wiped the sweat from his body. Holding his wife's fragrant body, the son asked, "Mom, were you alright just now?" My wife scolded, "You're so rough, aren't I good enough? Don't be so rough in the future, take care of your health. You're still young, you know? Sigh, you..."
"Mom..." my son said coquettishly, "But I really love you."
"Alright, I know, but I am your mother after all. I don't know if your father will forgive me for doing this." When my wife spoke of me, a trace of guilt flashed in her eyes. She sighed softly, then looked at her son and said, "Mom sincerely hopes to help you, son. You must study hard in the future, you know? Don't let your mother down. If you still can't understand my original intention, then all my efforts will have been in vain."
"Mom, I will definitely listen to you. I will always be a good boy." My son saw that his mother's expression was not right and immediately came to comfort her. "
Alright, that's enough." My wife got off the bed, and her snow-white legs were standing in front of me. I was so nervous that I didn't dare to breathe. "Son, Mom is going to the market. You rest at home for a while."
(3)
"No, I'm not tired, Mom. I'll go with you." The son jumped off the bed. "I'm full of energy."
"Good boy, you should rest. You've come twice this morning." The wife felt sorry for her son and didn't want him to go.
"No, Mom, I'll go with you. I can't sleep when you're not home. I want to be with you." The son said coquettishly.
"I really can't do anything with you. My little darling." The wife patted the son's bottom. "Okay, go and put on your clothes!"
"Mom, you have to put on your clothes too." The little guy also patted his mother's bottom.
"Go away." The wife spat at him. She put on a bath towel and went to the bathroom. Then I heard my son putting on his clothes above me. I breathed a sigh of relief. My whole body felt like it was about to fall apart. I closed my eyes and put my head on the floor. I stayed quietly. I felt like I had aged a lot, and suddenly all the strength in my body vanished. I didn't think about work, or anything else; I just stayed there. Then, with a loud "bang" at the door, the mother and son left the house.
I finally crawled out from under the bed. It felt like seeing the light of day again, a sense of disorientation. I didn't know where I was. Completely lost, I looked at my bed. Yes, it was my bed. I had slept on it last night, with my wife. It was messy now, with a few strands of hair, long and short. Without thinking, I lay down on it. A faint scent of perfume lingered; I knew it was from my wife. I tried to stop thinking about it, but the image from earlier kept resurfacing: my wife's body, my son's penis, their heavy breathing—it all kept echoing in my mind. I took out a 555 cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, and exhaled. The gray smoke swirled in my eyes, and my mind cleared considerably. Yes, I should deal with this rationally; after all, they are my closest family members. What else could I do? It's better to keep it small than big. This is just a family matter; it's easy to resolve no matter what. Yes, I should find an opportunity to talk to my wife. I can't keep dragging this on; it will only make me restless and unable to live my life. Things always have a way of resolving themselves.
I let out a long sigh and went to work.
That evening, when I returned home, my wife and son were already there. My wife had even bought me a new tie. "Dad's very tired right now; we need to make it up to him," she teased my son. I gave a bitter smile, unsure what to say. Seeing my wife and son together made me feel awkward, even though I'm the head of the household. At the dinner table, I ate in silence. My wife sensed it and asked me with concern, but I just said I was too busy with work. Seeing that I was preoccupied, she didn't press further. My son, on the other hand, seemed quite energetic, probably having had a good time this morning. He was chatting and laughing, which made me feel terrible.
As I lay in bed, I hesitated several times. Each time the words reached my lips, I thought of my son's adorable smile and everything about my wife, and I swallowed them back. I just couldn't bring myself to say it. What would happen if I spoke? Would I lose both of them? My daughter wasn't even here with me. I'm fifty years old; what am I still striving for? The usually shrewd and decisive person I am in business became indecisive. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
I spent many days in this state of constant hesitation and indecision. During those days, I dared not peek under the bed anymore, even though I knew they would definitely do that again, I just didn't have the courage to watch. I was scared. I tried my best not to think about it. I even found that when I faced my wife's hot body at night, I couldn't get an erection! Oh God, am I really finished?
But the opportunity still came. My son finished his exams and it was summer vacation. The school decided to send the children to the countryside for three days to experience rural life. I knew this was an opportunity. I could be alone with my wife, and I could boldly ask her. I couldn't let this opportunity slip away.
That day, my wife packed my son's bags, and the two of them boarded the school bus. Many parents wanted to personally take their children to the countryside to ensure they would be settled in, and the school tacitly allowed it. I borrowed a colleague's car and secretly followed them.
After more than an hour's drive, we arrived at a rural village in the suburbs. The children happily followed their teachers and parents into the village and went to stay with the designated farmers. I quietly watched from the sidelines as my son was led by the teacher to a mud house, and my wife followed. I heard her constantly giving instructions inside. Soon, while the other children were still nervously settling into their homes, my wife and son emerged. Seeing them walk towards the back of the village, I was startled and followed them. The
mother and son followed a path to the edge of the village. There was a small hillside beside the farmland, covered with pine trees. My son pulled his mother up the hill, and my wife hesitated for a moment before following. I could only follow at a distance.
It was the height of summer. My son climbed halfway up the hill, where there was a small patch of grass. He got hot and sat down on the grass, his back bare. My wife held an umbrella in one hand and a handkerchief in the other, wiping the sweat from his body, smiling as she did so. My son turned to look at his mother, then suddenly reached out and pulled her into his arms. The two of them sat down, immediately hidden by the tall grass. I hadn't expected the woods to be so difficult to traverse. There was no path, and the vines were so thick that my foot would snag on them with a rustling sound. I had to carefully make my way to a spot where I could see them.
There was a large tree in front of me that could shield me from view, so I crouched behind it and peered through the rocks and grass.
My son was wrapped around my wife's waist, their faces almost touching. They were holding each other tightly, seemingly unconcerned about the heat. Suddenly, my son turned and looked back for a moment. I remained motionless, tense, and he didn't notice anything.Then he turned to his wife and said in a spoiled tone, "Mom, I won't be able to see you for several days."
His wife wiped his sweat while instructing him, "Alright, sweetie, you have to listen to your teacher here and don't fight with the kids from the countryside, okay? Don't eat just anything; the food here isn't very clean. Don't run around playing outside; stay with other people, okay…"
"Okay," the son interrupted impatiently, "Mom, there's no one here. Can I have just one chance? Otherwise, I won't be able to see you for days. I'm going to suffocate."
"Always thinking nonsense. It's broad daylight. No, let's go back. It's time for Mom to leave." His wife stood up, but the son wouldn't have it. He stood up too, grabbing his wife's hand tightly, not letting her go. "Mom, just for a moment. I really want to. If you didn't agree, why did you come out when I called you?" the son said, giggling.
"You, I don't know what I did to you, you've got me cornered!" The wife tapped her son hard on the head. The son immediately hugged her, but she was still a little uneasy. She looked around to make sure no one was around for miles before turning away. Then she folded the umbrella to avoid attracting attention.
"Oh, son, don't do that!" The son eagerly reached for his mother's chest. The wife tried to push her son's hands away, but his restless hands had already slipped under her blouse and grabbed her breasts. The umbrella fell to the ground. "Okay, son, you…you need to hurry, okay? We have to get back. And someone might come, you know? Hurry up."
"Mmm…" the son mumbled, his hands already unbuttoning his mother's blouse and then pulling off her bra. "Don't open this..." The wife tried to cover her breasts, but her son kissed them first, biting one nipple. "Ah..." The wife let out a soft moan, then tilted her head back, grabbing her son's hair with both hands, letting him suckle her breasts to his heart's content.
The son's head was moving, sometimes gently, sometimes violently. I saw that the bra straps on the wife's arms had fallen to her elbows, and her shirt was almost falling down. After a while, the son finally lifted his head from his mother's chest. I noticed that his crotch was bulging high.
The wife cupped her son's face, which was as red as an apple. The wife was also panting, and said softly, "Son, hurry up, okay?"
"Mmm," the son responded, then pushed his mother back a little, and the wife's back leaned against a big tree behind her. The son lifted his mother's skirt up to her waist, revealing her two snow-white thighs. She was probably a little uncomfortable, and nervously looked around again. The son didn't care about anything else. He squatted down and pulled his wife's underwear down to her feet. His wife lifted her leg, allowing him to pull the underwear down. Then, the son stood up straight and pulled his own trousers down to his feet. He reached out his right hand and lifted his mother's left leg, hooking it around his waist. His wife's vulva opened instantly. Then, the son took out his penis with his left hand and pressed it between his wife's legs. I heard him let out a low growl and thrust his hips forward. His wife shuddered, her calves stiffening. The son thrust several more times, and his wife cried out, tightly hugging his son's head. "Mom
, your pussy is so tight," the son whispered.
"You're bad!" The wife leaned against the tree, turning her head to the side so her son wouldn't see her, but she still tried to thrust forward as much as possible. The son, holding his mother's legs, stood there and began to move rapidly. My wife's legs twitched occasionally. The only sounds were the clamor of cicadas and the chirping of birds. A gentle breeze rustled the pines, making the silence even more profound. The son's rapid thrusting sounds were exceptionally clear. "Splat, splat, splat..." The son kept pushing his mother against the tree behind her, while she bounced back against the trunk. They pressed against the tree, thrusting vigorously.

"Mom!" the son suddenly murmured, pressing his body against his mother. My wife, as if electrocuted, threw herself on top of him, hooking her arms around his neck and kissing him. Her legs were wide open, her whole body leaning forward. I clearly saw, in the sunlight, a transparent, shimmering thread stretched from my wife's vulva to the tip of a blade of grass, like a spiderweb. Then the son thrust wildly a few more times, then suddenly collapsed onto his mother. He stopped moving. My wife held her son tightly.
The position was maintained for a while. The son sighed, lowered his wife's legs, and turned around. His limp penis rested on the edge of her underwear. The wife caught her breath for a moment, then bent down and put her underwear on. After pulling down her skirt, she adjusted her bra, straightened her shirt, and brushed the dirt off her clothes, immediately returning to normal, except her hair was still a little messy.
Soon after, the wife picked up the umbrella from the ground, and the mother and son walked away hand in hand.
I hurriedly followed them down the mountain. When the mother and son returned to the village, I slipped into the car and drove off first.

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