Healing Mother's Pain

To escape the emotional and physical trauma of the divorce, my mother and I recently moved to a new town.

It all started when my mother discovered my father had been secretly having an affair, and she caught him red-handed. Naturally, my father was furious, and that's how it all happened.

This sudden divorce ended my plans to go to university, and I also had to quit my part-time job for my mother.

Our new house is smaller than our old one, which makes life a little inconvenient, but we like to call it "comfortable" and quickly got used to it.

After we finished furnishing our new home, my mother started looking for a new job and took the train to the business district for several interviews.

I guess she went through three interviews with considerable confidence, but when she came home, she was visibly dejected.

"Oh my God!" she muttered.

My mother threw her bag on the kitchen table and stormed into the bathroom.

She emerged slowly with a wet towel and slumped heavily onto the sofa. She covered her eyes with the towel and leaned her head back against the sofa.

I looked at her smooth chin, her beautiful skin curving gracefully into her collar.

My mother was just forty, but she looked as young as me. She was 18 when I was born, and my father was 26. His desire for young women has never diminished, which is the root of our divorce.

My mother has always maintained her figure through exercise. In high school, her hot body was always mentioned to my friends.

Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, looking great even when it was a little messy in the wind.

My mother wore a jacket and a short skirt. The tight-fitting top accentuated her breasts, and the opening revealed a deep cleavage through her vest-style bra underneath. The neat and clean stitching of the jacket highlighted her slender waist and further accentuated her breasts, which, as I later discovered, showed no signs of sagging. The

skirt hem was about two inches above her knees, and two flesh-colored stockings encased her long, beautiful legs. Sitting on the sofa, I could never ignore her slender legs—though they were only slightly parted, I could vaguely see the tips.

“Oh, my poor feet,”

Mom said, kicking off her high heels and beginning to massage her arches.

She didn't move her head, not even her expression, but as she started massaging, I felt my eyes light up. At that moment, I even mentally echoed my friend's words,

“Your mother's legs have had a tough day.”

I had a premonition, and my face flushed slightly.

“Would you like a foot massage?” I asked.

“Oh! That would be wonderful!” Mom said.

I got up and sat at the coffee table, right between her legs.

Then she placed one foot on the table beside me.

I leaned back slightly so I could place Mom's foot on her knee for the massage.

I gently bent her toes back to stretch her instep, and Mom let out a relaxed sigh.

I began massaging the soles and arches of her feet.

Mom was completely relaxed, her body moving only reflexively, and she still tilted her head back, enjoying my ministrations. While secretly confirming everything, something caught my attention.

With Mom's left leg slightly bent over my knee and her right leg relaxed on the table beside me, her skirt rode up little by little with my movements.

I could see her panties.

It was a vibrant red that completely captivated me.

At first, I quickly looked away, but as I continued massaging her feet, and she continued to let out soft moans from time to time, I looked at her face and thought she couldn't possibly see what I was doing.

I began to focus my gaze.

This time, I moved my eyes slowly.

I observed her ankles and beautiful legs until I reached the very end.

I had never thought before that what I was doing was dangerous and sexually suggestive.

I could see a faint bulge and some slightly disheveled fine hairs.

I felt something inside me starting to arouse.

"Okay, now for the other leg," I said.

I placed Mom's left leg on the table and her right leg on my knee, carefully avoiding getting too close to my abdomen for some reason—you know how it is.

I quickly glanced up to make sure she didn't notice my change, so as I began the massage, I moved my eyes from her feet to her hips.

Her legs were only slightly parted, but that was enough.

As I switched legs, her underwear shifted slightly, revealing one side of her pubic bone and more pubic hair.

Even though I knew it was wrong, it highly aroused me, and I wanted more.

I continued the massage, and Mom continued to moan softly.

After finishing the ankle massage, this time, I began to slowly massage her slender calves.

"Wow, the muscles here are quite tense,"

I said casually.

She paused briefly, but quickly resumed her low moans.

"Would you like me to massage your legs?"

I asked, my voice calm and unchanging.

She was silent for a moment; of course, she wasn't stupid, she knew what I was doing.

"That's fine,"

she said, but she didn't move her head or facial expression.

I always jog and participate in various sports, so I know all about muscle stretching and other things.

I knew what I wanted to do, and it wasn't your average massage; it was actually a bit—special.

Of course, the worst-case scenario was that Mom knew about it.

"Okay, but first I need to loosen your hamstrings. You have to bend your leg and hold it."

I waited for a response.

"Hmm, okay,"

she said.

So I bent her left leg, bringing her left knee towards her chest, which naturally tightened her leg and hips.

I pulled her leg up, pushing her chest towards her chin.

During this process, I could smell the lingering scent of her perfume and sweat from today, and when I looked down, I could see the top edge of her bra pads peeking out from under her tank top.

I held this position for a full twelve seconds before releasing her left leg and foot.

"That was amazing, do it again!"

Mom said.

I complied, of course. I placed her left leg on the table and then grabbed her right leg, repeating the movement.

"Did you learn these stretches in club?"

"Of course,"

I said, glancing again at the towel to make sure her eyes were completely covered.

Then I noticed.

Mom had reached up to adjust her skirt, a movement that squeezed her breasts, and I saw one of her nipples slip out of her bra; it was a dark pinkish-black, quite large (swollen?).

I almost forgot about the timer, and my hands unconsciously began to knead Mom's calves.

I slightly turned her leg, which made it a little off, but gave me a better angle to massage it.

"Ah, I slipped a bit,"

I said, pulling the already slightly loose stockings down to near her knees.

"Oh yeah," she said. "That feels good too."

So I carefully pulled off the stockings, gently tugging them until they were off Mom's legs, then casually placed them on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table.

Next, I had to muster my courage, because the other stocking had an opening very high on her thigh and wasn't loose, but I was going to remove it.

My hand moved six feet closer to her hip.

She did nothing.

Feeling her long, perfect legs beneath the stockings, I wondered why she wore them.

I carefully observed my mother's expression; it was one of satisfaction and relaxation, and of course, she couldn't see me. So I continued to look between her legs.

My eyes bulged.

As she pulled at her skirt and bent her thighs, the hem was now bunched up at the bottom.

Her panties weren't just visible; they were completely exposed!

This wasn't the biggest shock, because I could clearly see the tight panties completely revealing the shape of her genitals.

I could see a perfect, fleshy, slightly hairy labia.

My erection immediately and easily surpassed any I had ever had before.

I began to shift the focus of my massage from her calves to the top of her thighs.

As my hands moved higher, I moved them carefully and slowly so she could fully adjust.

Now I could easily observe the location of her crotch up close, so I focused more on giving her the best massage, hoping this secret could last as long as possible.

However, a problem arose.

I was, after all, moving step by step, along her thighs, getting closer and closer to places I shouldn't have entered.

She was still occasionally moaning softly, and I was entering dangerous territory.

I stopped massaging about two inches below her crotch and started switching legs.

Her moans stopped abruptly.

“Switch legs,”

I said.

“Mmm, oh yeah,”

she replied.

A change in her voice gave me a premonition.

I wasn’t a virgin, but I wasn’t a nymphomaniac either, but the change in her voice made me think that maybe she was thinking further ahead than I was.

Everything before might have already made me harder than before, but this discovery made me even harder.

I lowered her ankle.

As I started massaging her calf, I looked at her face and her crotch again.

I stared at a patch of exposed labia, unable to believe I was looking at my mother…

a kitten.

Thinking of the word, I admired it more closely, then noticed a small, slightly dark spot on her red silk stockings.

Was my mother wet?

I continued massaging her legs, this time mustering the courage to massage a little higher so I could get closer and hear her moans more clearly.

There was panting inside.

I kept going up until I was about half an inch from her crotch.

I couldn’t touch it myself, no matter how much I wanted to.

We were both silent.

“How’s your back?”

I finally said.

She remained silent for a moment.

“It would be great if you don’t mind,” she said calmly. “You’re like an angel.”

She tried to get things back on track with a normal tone.

She removed the towel from her face, propped herself up, and I saw her look at herself.

She paused, then sat back down on the sofa and took off her jacket.

Then she looked back at me.

“Is this not okay?”

her tone was strange.

I saw her shrug in confusion.

“It’s up to you,” I said, all my shyness and embarrassment reaching its peak.

“Well, that’s fine,” she said. “Turn your head.”

“Aha,” I said, “okay.”

So I turned my head.

Mom took off her tank top, removed her nipple covers, and placed them on the sofa

. “Okay,” she said.

I turned back, and Mom was lying there.

Her face was on her arms, and her back was completely bare.

My eyes looked down and saw her disheveled skirt still bunched up around her hips.

I could see the back of her face, and now I could see her red panties were tied up.

I focused my attention and slowly moved from the coffee table to the sofa, beginning to massage her shoulders.

(Her shoulders were bare.)

“Mom feels so good,”

Mom said softly.

“I really need this feeling, thank you, my dear son.”

To be honest, massaging my arms while sitting at the coffee table was a bit awkward, and Mom quickly noticed.

“Why don’t you change positions if it’s easier?”

That would be nice.

“Okay,” I said, and she shifted her position on the sofa so I could support myself with my knees.

Now I was kneeling beside my half-naked mother’s hips, and I had to be careful not to let my erection get too close and touch her.

I continued my massage, rubbing her shoulders and the base of her neck.

She tilted her head slightly, closed her eyes, and let out a soft, completely relaxed moan—a

moan that made me hotter than anything else.

The towel was now on the coffee table.

After finishing her shoulders, I began massaging her back, quickening my pace as I moved downwards, soon reaching her full buttocks.

I could feel my lower body tensing up.

As I massaged my mother's lean back, she trembled slightly, her moans becoming increasingly relaxed and satisfied.

My focus shifted from the center of her back towards the edge of her ribcage, which also happened to be the edge of her breasts.

There I gently slid my fingertips along each spot, then continued downwards, reaching the bony prominence at her waist.

Her legs opened wider, so I knelt between them, one leg between them.

I continued the massage, from her lower back down.

She didn't say anything, just groaned softly.

As I leaned forward to massage closer to the other side, my erection briefly touched the crevice between her buttocks.

I carefully withdrew, continuing to massage her back, my mind somewhat blank.

I hoped I hadn't caused any trouble; the thought, 'maybe she didn't notice,' reassured me.

My hand brushed against the rumpled skirt, bunched up.

"You can take it off if you need to,"

Mom said, wriggling her hips.

I was a little dazed.

"Uh, okay,"

I said.

I moved away from between her legs, grabbing the top of the skirt to pull it down.

"There's a zipper," Mom said, stopping me, "in the middle of the back."

I smoothed out her skirt slightly and found the zipper.

I grasped the small zipper and slowly slid it across the pleats of the skirt.

As I continued moving my fingers downwards, I saw the drawstring of her panties.

Finally, the zipper was pulled open, and I carefully pulled up the skirt.

My mother lifted her buttocks from the sofa to help me. When my mother's half-naked buttocks came into view, I almost burst my pants, especially seeing the thin red fabric disappear between her buttocks.

After I began massaging her back, she relaxed and stretched her legs.

I looked at the triangular piece of fabric covering her private parts, noticing that part of it was stuck in, and then I noticed that it was noticeably more discolored.

I continued massaging downwards, while my right knee began to rhythmically touch her hips.

At first, we were both a little tense, trying to act normal, and neither of us changed much.

I began to massage more vigorously, and she moaned and groaned.

At this point, there were some small movements in her hips, and I thought she was trying to gradually move away from my knee.

Then I felt the pressure on my knee increase.

She began to rotate her hips.

It was just a tiny movement, but I could feel the dampness of her genitals through her underwear.

My own underwear was getting a little slippery. (Prostate fluid?)

I guess I couldn't focus on just massaging Mom anymore.

My hands gradually moved down from her buttocks, making it easier to massage her hips. I looked at her buttocks, then my hands slowly returned to her waist and abdomen, massaging back and forth.

She groaned and pressed her hips against my knees. I could feel the damp silk on my bare knees.

Thank God my men's underwear was coarse cotton, otherwise it might have been soaked through.

"It feels good," she said.

I wasn't sure if Mom meant the feeling of her buttocks touching my knees.

So I took the opportunity to slowly massage Mom's buttocks. Her groans changed and became louder than before.

I massaged harder, squeezing and pulling her plump buttocks apart repeatedly.

Her groans intensified, and she lifted her buttocks to allow my hands to move more easily, while her damp vulva rubbed against me more frequently.

The situation was clear: the high wall between us was slowly crumbling, right before my eyes, right in my hands.

I stared at the hand pressing on my mother's buttocks, that hand constantly squeezing and pulling apart her flesh.

I knew what I was doing.

I was skillfully massaging my mother's full buttocks, pulling and stretching, and I could occasionally see the edge of her anus. I saw it even more clearly when I grasped the two buttocks and made circular motions. I pulled harder in circles, and she began to rotate her hips more. My gaze was completely drawn to my mother's anus.

I had made love with different girls before, in the dark or in a car.

We touched each other, kissed, and finally climaxed on my girlfriend, but I had never really explored the details of their bodies.

Now, for the first time, a woman's body was stretched out before me, and I could touch it, see it, and explore it closely. My mother was moving her hips against my knees, and her moans were gradually becoming mixed with heavy breathing.

'She's coming!' I thought, and continued massaging her buttocks, my men's underwear tightening.

Then it happened; my mother stopped rotating her hips and her muscles began to twitch.

"Oh, God," she gasped, continuing to rub her buttocks against me. "Ah—um—um…"

Her panting subsided, and I kept my hands on her buttocks as she reduced the pressure of her hips on me, so I quickly stopped.

"Don't stop, it makes me feel relaxed,"

she said hoarsely.

I continued massaging her buttocks, the room filled with a strange atmosphere, my mother panting beneath me.

Finally, my mother said,

"Please pull down my underwear, it's still a little uncomfortable like this."

I straightened up, untied the thin string above my mother's buttocks, loosened her briefs, and began to slowly pull them down.

She slightly closed her legs to lift her pelvis, and I stared blankly as the fabric began to fall, the part tied around her waist falling around her knees while the middle part remained trapped between her genitals.

I could now see two buttocks, Mom's panties pressed tightly against her genitals by my knees.

I moved slightly.

I slowly slid them away from her long legs, then knelt between Mom's legs again.

Finally, I got them, the wet touch sending waves of urges through me, and I forced myself to place them on the coffee table.

"I've already massaged the back of your legs," I whispered.

Mom was silent for a moment, then slightly lifted her buttocks off the sofa.

She hooked her feet towards me, kneeling, and placed them in front of my groin.

Now her elbows were raised.

"I fully, completely understand what went wrong, but we both know we've gone too far to turn back."

She turned her upper body to face me, and instinctively, my chest burst into a deep breath.

She placed one foot on the floor and used it to turn around forcefully, now Mom was fully facing me.

My eyes lingered on my mother's beautiful legs, past her thick, hairy pubic hair, noticing that the edges were trimmed into a heart shape, the center both undulating and flat, still looking neat despite the long aerobic massage. Then came a pair of perfect breasts; I didn't know their size, but I imagined it would take two hands to hold one.

Finally, our eyes met and I saw her blush, realizing I was admiring everything about her.

She moved closer and took one of my hands, then gently placed it between her thighs.

"I want you to massage here," she said. "Please."

I could feel how wet it was, so I slipped my fingers inside her. My

index and middle fingers slid slowly, unblocking my mother's vagina.

"A little bit, not too much," she said, starting to unbutton my shorts.

My middle finger slid deeper and began to move. At the same time, my palm gripped one of her buttocks tightly, something my ex-girlfriend liked.

My mother released my shorts, letting them fall on their own. She slipped her hand under my waistband and into my underwear, then her fingers gripped me.

An electric shock of excitement coursed through my body, and I was almost about to ejaculate.

My mother noticed, so she pulled my hand away from her crotch, knelt before me, and released my erection from my underwear.

"I owed you one earlier, now we're even." A moment later, her tongue traced a winding path down my body.

“mmmm…” Her tongue was so hot, and when it reached the base, she slowly moved her lips around it and sucked for a while before turning away. Her fiery tongue kept swirling, and I felt myself sinking into a vortex; I was about to come. Soon she stopped licking the base and began sucking the tip, and I erupted.

This orgasm was unlike any I had ever experienced before.

Mom completely dominated me with her tongue and lips until I started to soften in her mouth. Then she completely pulled down my underwear, then my shirt, and after everything was done, she led me to her bedroom. Just like she had done an hour before, she asked me to massage her buttocks a little more, and of course I couldn’t refuse. Without the cover of underwear, I could clearly see her anus without any obstruction.

Then she felt me starting to get hard again.

“You like looking at my ass, don’t you?” she asked, turning her head to look at me.

My red cheeks said it all.

“Touch it.” She bent over at me, and one of my fingers landed on her anus in the cleft of her buttocks.

“Have you ever had anal sex?” she asked.

I shook my head violently.

She smiled.

“We’ll try, massage the outside now.”

I did, and my penis quickly became rock hard.

“This is what I’ve been waiting for,” she said. “Now I think it’s your turn.”

She said this and turned to lie flat on her back, spreading her legs. I knelt down and tasted her overflowing honeypot. Finally, she pulled my head toward her, close to my face, and kissed me. I could taste her lipstick, her juices, everything about her.

As we kissed, she guided me into her labia with her fingers and then began to fuck me. She gently rocked her hips to allow my penis to slide in smoothly. Soon I was fully inside her. Our lips never parted until I began to thrust violently and she responded. We were so in sync that I even thought it was our birthright.

I kept pounding into her pubic bone and my mother kept moaning—much more melodious than an hour ago, of course. Fortunately, I had already ejaculated in my mother’s mouth once, and now her moans only stimulated me to become even harder and gave me more motivation.

My mother's eyes were glazed over, her left index finger twitching slightly. Her large breasts swayed back and forth with my movements, the two rosy nipples tracing alluring curves. Soon, she reached another climax.

Suddenly, I changed positions.

I scooped her up with both hands, surprised to find her weight surprisingly matched my arm strength, so I began to toss her around—without actually lifting her. Still lost in wave after wave of orgasms, my mother was somewhat surprised but immediately captivated by the feeling of floating on clouds, unconsciously moaning and sinking into a semi-floating state of sex.

I kept tossing her up, catching her, and tossing her again, while my penis never stopped throbbing. Her flowing hair, her violently trembling breasts, her high-pitched moans, and her ecstatic expression all made my blood boil. I felt these few minutes surpassed all my previous sexual experiences.

My second time lasted a long time.

Her continuous, uninterrupted orgasms seemed to be waiting for me, and when I finally climaxed, her vagina contracted forcefully. As I finished ejaculating and began to soften, I could feel the trembling of her vaginal muscles.

We fell onto the bed, my penis slipping out of my mother's vagina, but our tongues remained intertwined.

After what seemed like an eternity, we stopped, panting. My mother looked at me with moist eyes, her cheeks flushed with the intense blush of sex, which immediately made me erect again.

My mother seemed surprised, her face turning even redder. She pondered for a moment, then reached for a bottle of glycerin on her dressing table.

She winked at me playfully, "Now it's time for the place you've always longed for." She turned and lay face down on the bed,

her large breasts dangling and swaying slightly with her movements, her long hair tossed to one side. My mother turned her head, looking at me with moist, yearning eyes. But my attention was completely drawn to her, just like during the massage earlier. Because of the previous intercourse, my mother's anus was already wet with vaginal fluid, and the slightly dark chrysanthemum between her two snow-white, plump buttocks was constantly contracting and expanding.

I immediately felt a rush of blood to my head.

But it wasn't time yet. I suppressed my impulse and rubbed glycerin all over her anus, then inserted my index finger into her anus, but had to pull it out after only one knuckle.

My mother frowned. "Be gentle, I've never done this before," she paused, "This virginity is yours."

This excited me immensely; I felt like my penis was about to explode. But as I continued to caress my mother's anus, the muscles around her anus gradually relaxed, so I added another finger, then another, until finally all three fingers could slide smoothly. My mother also seemed somewhat excited during this process, her lower body constantly leaking vaginal fluid.

I rubbed glycerin all over my penis and pressed the glans against my mother's anus.

"You're mine," I announced, thrusting all the way in.

My penis is longer and thicker than a finger, which caused my mother some trouble. However, thanks to the thorough foreplay, she soon began to enjoy this unusual sexual experience.

"Ah... um... oh... yeah~~~" I grabbed my mother's buttocks and thrust in and out. The wicked stimulation mixed with the pleasure of intercourse, her fair buttocks, the deep cleft spread open, and her anus constantly turning in and out with each thrust of my penis were all stimulating me. "It's so beautiful, Mom!"

"Don't call me that... um..." My mother seemed to be stimulated, so I felt her clench even tighter.

I leaned down and lay on her back, reaching my hands to her front to grasp the tips of her two large breasts, constantly stimulating the nipples that had once nourished me. I held her tightly, our naked bodies pressed together, and I began to pound into her. My mother swayed her hips and waist in response to my movements, her vaginal fluids soaking the sheets beneath her.

"Is it good, Mom? How does it compare to Dad?"

But she completely ignored my words, moaning and groaning as if she were enjoying herself, seemingly immersed in the depraved incestuous sex between mother and son.

Of course, I tried even harder, my penis rhythmically and powerfully thrusting into my mother's anus.

Finally, Mom let out a comfortable moan, her body trembling as if in a spasm. As her vagina gushed forth a large amount of vaginal fluid, her anus contracted violently; she experienced her first anal orgasm.

Following the suction of her anus, I thrust in forcefully, causing Mom to scream. Her voluptuous waist arched, and the contractions within her anus intensified, sucking so hard my back went numb, and I ejaculated instantly.

After calming down, we both drifted off to sleep. A few hours later, we continued to enjoy the beauty of sex together, endlessly, as if to make up for the past. I believe the divorce won't have a negative impact on us anymore.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/30400.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=30400&aspx=1

Previous Page : Happy family

Next Page : Son's Autobiography, Part 1