Rape and murder of American mother

Looking at my mother's body hanging in the closet, I felt both excited and sad. Who knew it would turn out like this? My mother's lifeless eyes stared at me, her alluring red lips slightly parted, a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth. In her slightly open mouth, I could see only half of her tongue. Her bra had been pulled up above her breasts, her two full, white breasts hanging down. Her crystal pantyhose, along with her black lace panties, had been pulled down to her vagina. On her feet were a pair of white pointed high heels with 10-centimeter heels. My mother's hands were tied to the clothes rack in the closet with ropes. Her whole body presented an exaggeratedly flamboyant beauty. Although my mother was 40 years old, it was difficult to tell her actual age from this gorgeous corpse. Because the body was hanging, all of my mother's most shameful parts were exposed to her son: her full, firm breasts, her plump, white buttocks, and her straight, shapely thighs encased in stockings. All of this was caused by her beloved son; he had turned her into this.

Looking at my mother's alluring body, I recalled that ecstatic moment that had just occurred. My mother was passing by my room, about to leave, when I suddenly grabbed her from behind and dragged her into my room. I remember I was masturbating with my mother's high heels and stockings, and the worst part was that I had just taken a Viagra pill. My friend had told me that masturbating with this stuff would give you a heavenly feeling. I never imagined it would be so powerful. Just a moment after taking it, my penis became as hard as iron, burning intensely—it was terrifying. Just then, I heard the sound of high heels in the hallway, a sound like a death knell. Now I realized it was the sound of my mother's death.

Looking at my mother, whom I had dragged in and pinned down, in her white work suit, flesh-colored crystal pantyhose, and white high heels, I felt like I had gone mad. My mother's voice kept ringing in my ears: "What are you doing? I'm your mother! Let me go!" "What are you doing? Don't lift my skirt! Ah, what are you doing with your hands? Why are you pulling my pantyhose? I'm your mother!" "Don't touch me! You beast! What are you doing? You touched me there! No, no!" My mother's shouts were clear in my ears, and the voices behind her were starting to cry. I had been touching my mother's genitals for a long time, and the tingling sensation kept stimulating my brain. My penis was no longer under my control. "I'm your mother! I'm your mother! Wake up! Ah~~"

My penis slid precisely into that familiar hole from pornographic films. With a scream from my mother, I began to thrust, my hands alternately pulling and tearing off her skirt and pink thermal underwear, revealing a black lace bra underneath. I bit down hard on her breast, her nipple sliding in and out of my mouth, my tongue frantically enjoying the intense pleasure it brought. My penis thrust faster in tandem. My mother's full vagina tightly gripped my penis.

"You beast, what are you doing? Take it out!" my mother cried out beneath me. I never imagined that raping my own mother would bring such immense pleasure. "Help! Help!" My mother cried out for help, her voice so loud it terrified me. My hand instinctively reached to cover her mouth, but she kept screaming. I pulled my pillow over her head. "No...uh...uh..."

Finally, her voice subsided considerably. The intense pleasure from the drug made me thrust faster, and her violent struggles only amplified the stimulation. I lifted her legs and placed them on my shoulders, beginning a new round of thrusting. Soon, I felt her struggles weaken considerably, but I didn't pay attention. Afraid she would scream, I kept my hands firmly pressed against the pillow. Suddenly, Mom's legs, which had been struggling on my shoulders, straightened out, her insteps in white high heels taut. The sight made my blood boil. Soon, those straight legs drooped softly, obediently resting on my shoulders. The feeling was wonderful. Mom stopped struggling; she finally became docile. My penis was almost at its climax, and I increased my thrusting.

Suddenly, I felt Mom's vagina grip my penis tightly, then quickly relax. "Mom, I'm almost there, I'm coming!" A warm liquid gushed from Mom's lower body, instantly stimulating my burning glans. I felt a stream of semen shoot out precisely, deep into Mom's vagina. Ah, it felt so good! The expert was right; it truly felt like heaven. I collapsed onto Mom's body.

Then I realized that Mom had been unusually docile all day. I noticed the pillow was still pressed tightly against her head. "Mom, Mom!" I quickly removed the pillow. Mom's eyes were fixed on me, but she didn't react at all. I was terrified. I slapped her face repeatedly, calling out, but she just kept staring at me, maintaining that expression. My fingers trembled as I placed them under her nose. No breath. Mom wasn't breathing. I went limp. I quickly pressed my mouth to hers. I knew that's how you do CPR. I blew air into her mouth, but there was no response. My tongue involuntarily slipped into her mouth, touching her soft tongue. I felt my penis harden again.

What was I doing? I had smothered my mother. I sat by the bed, my eyes fixed on her corpse. I had actually killed my own mother, and I had raped and murdered her. Looking at her familiar body before me, her exposed breasts and genitals, I then noticed a pool of yellow liquid at the opening of her vagina, besides my semen. I leaned closer to smell it; it was urine. My mother had lost control of her bladder before she died.

Looking at my mother's corpse, my heart was filled with guilt and self-reproach, but there was also a faint sense of pleasure. My hands rubbed back and forth on her thighs encased in stockings. I lifted my mother's left foot and rubbed it. The high heels made my penis hard again. I took off the high heels. My mother's feet had a faint smell. I bit her big toe and rubbed it back and forth, while my right hand kept rubbing my penis. I put my mother's foot on my penis and rubbed it back and forth. The intense stimulation quickly filled me with new energy. I flipped my mother's body over and thrust into her anus. The tight feeling made me feel like I was going to heaven. I thrust, grabbed my mother's hair with my left hand and pulled her head up, grabbed her right foot with my right hand and turned her right leg back. I bit my mother's right foot. Soon, I ejaculated. Because the effects of the drug had worn off, I didn't last long this time. Exhausted, I collapsed onto my mother's corpse, my penis still inside her anus. After crawling for a while, I remembered Dad was coming home soon. What to do? I quickly hid her body.

Just as I hid it in the closet, Dad returned. For the next two days, I told him Mom was away on a business trip. What else could I say? She was supposed to go out of town that day anyway.
That night, I stripped Mom naked and carried her to my bed. Dad would never have imagined his wife would be in his son's bed, completely naked. I took another Viagra pill, and under its influence, I raped Mom's corpse with a frenzied, inhuman brutality. I used her stockings to tightly strangle her neck, and I used a toothpick to secure her tongue, because pulling it out would cause it to slide back in. I stretched her tongue out as far as it could go, then pierced it with a toothpick, leaving it long and hanging out. At the height of my climax, I bit off half of my tongue, and my mother's vagina was almost mangled from my actions. After I finished, I wasn't satisfied, so I used the heel of her high heel to penetrate her again.

I raped my mother's corpse countless times that night, not getting up until noon the next day. My mother's naked body, after being tortured all night, was a mess. I quickly dressed her body and put it in the closet. Sigh, what to do with the body is a problem. Oh well, I'll play with it for a few days first.

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