Incest Trilogy - Incest Classics

Outside, a thick fog blanketed the house, a light drizzle falling, the weather gloomy and oppressive. April in spring was a time of melancholy, the perfect breeding ground for bacteria, and also a time for wild, unrestrained thoughts...
The large house was similarly affected by the weather, filled with a dim, gloomy atmosphere. The house was empty, doors and windows tightly shut, even the curtains were drawn. There was no light, only a faint sunlight that made the atmosphere even more eerie and mysterious...
A faint noise came from the second floor. Following the sound, I climbed the stairs to the second floor and through the room.
The room was even darker than outside, with only the extremely dim sunlight as a base light and the only other light coming from a cell phone screen. The furnishings could only be roughly discerned. But surprisingly, the house lacked the eerie and mysterious atmosphere of the outside; instead, it felt lively, like the vibrant scent of peach blossoms in full bloom in a peach orchard, a scene of boundless spring beauty...
On the large bed, two people were clearly interacting, and intensely at that, creating a stark contrast to the surrounding silence.
"What are you looking for?" The voice of an elderly woman, probably over fifty, broke the silence. Without waiting for a reply, she bent one leg, which had been closed while lying on her side.
"Mom's been trying to find it for five years, haha! And you still can't find it?!"
"What a joke! It's just that Mom's vagina is so wet, it's all stuck together, that's why I can't find it right away."
It was obvious these two were mother and son; the explicit conversation revealed that this was no ordinary relationship! That's right! This person was my biological son. I'm fifty years old, and my son is twenty-four. We've maintained this incestuous relationship for five years; for the past five years, we've engaged in acts that transgress ethical boundaries almost daily, and today was no exception. The weather and environment allowed us to fully enjoy the stimulation and satisfaction that incestuous sex couldn't provide.
"Ouch! What's the use of poking around like that!"
"You already said it, it's all stuck together with too much water, first open your labia majora!"
"That's right..."
I'm a very traditional and conservative woman, but in bed, I shamelessly lay naked from the waist down, even opening my legs to let my own son freely touch my vagina. Not only now, but we repeat that shameless behavior every day. Whenever my son wants, when no one is around, I will let him put his hands inside my underwear and play with me without any hesitation. I'm even willing to let him pull down my underwear, spread my legs wide, and let him squat down to watch my vagina and stir his fingers inside me wantonly, just like now. My son is already between my legs, and I'm spreading my legs as wide as I can without any restraint. I close my eyes, and all I have to do is open my legs. I can let my son play with my vagina as he pleases; I can let him lick my opening with his tongue at will. I even crave for my son to thrust his hot penis into my vagina hard and pump it in and out! Am I promiscuous? No! Over the years, I've come to understand that this is just a physiological need, only expressed more openly in front of my own son.

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Incest Trilogy - Incest Classics

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