A woman whose life was full of suffering

A Woman Who Has Lived a Life of Hardship

Author: Unknown
Word Count: 10353 words
I am a woman who has lived a life of hardship, mostly in a mining area, with a son and a daughter. I am a traditional
Chinese woman. After marriage, I have never had an affair with any man other than my husband! I believe that at home
, these words stem from the last bit of "self-esteem" a mother or a woman has left. I slap my son and
do a good job of housework, which makes me a good wife and a good mother. I am always caring for my child and husband. I believe that
cooking dinner and waiting for my husband to come home is fulfilling my duties as a wife. But more than ten years ago, on that
rainy summer night, the clear night sky was dotted with a few stars silently accompanying a cool moon; but tonight I
left school early because I wasn't feeling well. When I got home, I noticed that my mother's room door was ajar,
but both he and I were clear-headed. If this continued, it would disrupt our new home. Now, we both decided that
a faint, strange sound came from inside the main room, like a dog drinking water.
We listened intently. We only heard a series of heavy groans,
like a seriously ill person lying in bed moaning, followed by a series of disturbing creaking and shaking sounds
from the large bed.
But my father had been dead for many years, and a thought arose in my mind. A sense of shame washed over me. My mother was too unruly; she had rebelled against
my father! But curiosity led me slowly toward the door, and in an instant, I was stunned!
Two people, covered in sweat, naked, were making love in the room. I never expected this.
A heavy sense of frustration overwhelmed me, and I cared deeply about his attitude towards me. I hated it when he made me lie on the bed, like a dog with my back to him.
"Do you know how much it hurts?" Another time, my father drank too much at night, and when he came home, I was met with their commotion.
That naked man... it was him! My husband!
He was riding on my mother, moving like a madman! He was like a hungry tiger seizing a sheep, and the sounds of their intercourse were loud
. My mother was lying on her back on the bed, her lower body naked, her upper body half-undone, revealing a large bra, but...
It was half-hidden, half-revealed. My husband was on top of my mother, holding her tightly, his lower body thrusting relentlessly.
My mother writhed beneath him, only moaning dreamily.
Watching my husband's hips move, each thrust faster and harder than the last, I saw them both trembling
, and I trembled too. After another ten thrusts, my husband suddenly
stopped
the crack in the door, I saw my husband on top of my mother, panting, before finally getting up and withdrawing his burning penis
… Just as I was lost in thought, my son had already groped to unbutton my nightgown and pulled up my bra
. He lay on the bed beside me, talking to me. I thought he was drunk. So I didn't blame him.
Seeing his penis so wet, their sweat and semen soaked the sheets, a so alluring sight
that made me speechless. My posture had unconsciously changed. Before, like many middle-aged women, I would sit
down ... Oh my god! I was devastated!
Just the day before, in this very house, in my own room, I had let out the same passionate moans my mother had
just . And today, he had taken my mother's body—my own mother! His
mother-in-law!
I felt utterly humiliated. I didn't know how they could have grown up like this. How could he possibly do this to my
mother ? I walked alone into the street, initially surrounded by vibrant colors, but as I watched all the houses go out and go
to sleep, my heart turned cold.
I don't know why, but all I could think about were the shadows of two bodies tossing and turning in bed. I was so dirty,
I couldn't do this! One was my mother, the other my husband. They couldn't do this. They had betrayed morality,
betrayed their family, done something they shouldn't have. I thought frantically and fearfully, feeling nauseous, but
what could I do? I couldn't get a divorce. Why? I didn't know! Because? Maybe because I still needed a
husband, a home like a home, and my child still needed a father! Maybe I didn't want to be alone... Alone in my
empty room, each day felt like an eternity.
My husband hugged me tightly from behind, gently kissing my earlobe. He breathed softly into my ear,
telling me he was tired, then pushed him away and lay down on the side of the bed.
I don't know how long I slept, or even if I fell asleep. I don't know when he slipped into
the covers and began rubbing his penis against my buttocks. I tried to speak, but somehow, I couldn't make a sound. My husband
's hot lips deepened the kiss, and when I tried to struggle again, his arms tightened around me...
Oh God! I couldn't resist this man before me. His lips were burning hot against my neck
, and I could only manage a very small, weak sound. Perhaps I am still his wife, and he has the right to possess me
! So I gave up...
I decided to give up the struggle against my own body. As the saying goes, "fish and water are in harmony," (I was reluctant to return after crossing Wushan).
When I regained consciousness, my pants had been taken off and were on the ground. My husband finally thrust his
already thick penis into my vagina from behind.
What could I say? I could only let him do as he pleased! I lay on the bed with my eyes closed, my hands tightly gripping
the sheets beneath me. He left his penis inside my vagina and began to slowly thrust in and out.
Sometimes, I would involuntarily push open my bedroom door...
I don't know why, but I found myself following my husband's movements. What's even more hateful is: feeding lice to disgust me. With each
thrust, he gradually aroused my desire. I
slowly opened my eyes, looking at my husband still on top of me in the mirror, watching him slowly thrust in and out,
his hands clasped on his knees with each stroke.
As he thrust all the way in, he thrust forcefully, and I cried out in response. My
husband, pressing down on me, moved faster and faster, his breathing becoming heavier, until finally, after
a shudder, he collapsed onto me, ejaculating. His hot semen spurted into my
vagina Finally, exhausted, he rolled over, his penis sliding off my genitals, and lay limp on
the bed, sleeping like a dead pig.
After a night's rest, both of their clothes were tossed aside on the bed. I tried to sit up, but the slight
strain a sharp pain in my lower body, and sticky discharge trickled down between my thighs. I took out some toilet paper and carefully
covered the area where my husband and I had been intimate, wiping my damp vulva.
Looking at the foul-smelling fluid from the previous night flowing from my vagina, and then at my husband beside me, I knew that
maintaining this family required willpower; it wasn't easy. I had clearly seen it, but I could only
pretend not to notice.
Tears of sorrow streamed down my face… I will never forget that cold night…
a dark and gloomy morning, still in this… The house was dark, the door tightly shut, the curtains drawn low.
A young man lay naked on the bed, while a woman sat hunched over on the floor, her clothes disheveled
. The bed and the floor were a mess, littered with tissues.
A strong, pungent stench filled the air. Everyone wondered what had happened in the house.
Yes. The man on the bed was none other than [the woman's name], and the woman on the floor was also [the woman's name]. What was their relationship?
And what was going on between them? ...That's another story. A Family Turmoil, Difficult to Talk About
More than ten years have passed; I'm over forty. Six years ago, my health deteriorated, and I prematurely [experienced a period of] [unclear - possibly related to a previous event]. The factory took early retirement.
Shortly after , my mother passed away, and my ex-husband abandoned me and our family, running off with another woman. At that time, my
children were still young; my son was in middle school, and my daughter was still breastfeeding. It was so pitiful. Raising them was incredibly
difficult .
My son was very sensible; he always thought of me when he had something good to eat. I couldn't afford to send him to university, so after graduating from vocational school
, he entered the workforce and, through his own efforts, found a decent job in the telecommunications industry in another city,
supporting our precarious family.
Seeing my son grown up, I was overjoyed and even hugged him and kissed him on the forehead. Who knew this would
cause trouble? This must be the ring that cost over three thousand yuan working its magic, right? I thought to myself with a self-deprecating smile: Actually, I'm like this now
.
My son started getting a little unruly, and somehow he slipped his hand under my clothes and started groping around underneath.
I yelled.
I was a little scared, my heart was turning white, but my whole body was weak and I couldn't stop him. I just cried out in a panic, "
What ...no! I'm your mother! Stop it...no..." My pleas had no effect whatsoever
. My son roughly pulled down my underwear.
My stance wasn't firm enough...when an unusual feeling entered my body, I realized I still had the ability to speak.
"No—," before the word "want" could even leave my lips, the corner of the blanket was pulled over my face. And just like that, I gave myself to
my own son.
The next day, when I woke up and realized that the person on top of me was my own child, I was stunned,
unable to believe it was real. I burst into tears, "Waaah… your father is messing around outside,
what hope do I have for my life…waaah…? Didn't I just hope you'd work hard and have a bright future? And you…did this…" Although it
was because I had been drinking, after what happened, my son felt ashamed to face me, only
coming home once a month from his company to bring me living expenses.
The days dragged on.
Later, while cleaning the room, I accidentally found one of my son's diary entries and discovered that what happened that night wasn't
just a one-night stand; I had also… A great responsibility.
The child wrote in his diary every day: "I started to remember things when I was very young. Dad and Grandma
became mothers? My husband started gently stroking my slightly chubby and firm buttocks.
When they were not at home, they were more casual. Grandma often wore only a T-shirt and a t-shirt in the summer to do housework.
One day, I discovered a secret in my mother's bedroom. I saw Dad riding on Grandma, and sometimes he even...
I really did have sex, but I also lived a life of widowhood for many years. In addition, I was confused after drinking and my sense of shame was not strong enough.
When I heard Grandma moaning in pain, I was not old enough to understand sex at the time. I thought my father was abusing
Grandma.
When I realized what was happening, I squatted at the door. He didn't pay attention. But Grandma gave me a piece of candy and asked me what I had heard." I
naively asked her if she was sick. My grandmother smiled but didn't say anything more.
They ignored the existence of the 5-year-old boy, but this incident had a great impact on me. Around fifth
grade , I developed a strong interest in sex, especially my mother's sex life. I would stay up very late every night
to eavesdrop on my parents making love and then masturbate. I would often wake up in the morning to find
a
wad of toilet paper lying on the floor of their house, a white wad of paper on a black floor, particularly conspicuous. That's how I
became interested in their sex life.
Through eavesdropping, I learned that my parents' sex life was not harmonious. My father had premature ejaculation, but he had
a particular fondness for sex, while my mother... I don't really like listening to them make love. Sometimes it's because my dad's
lust is so intense that I can't speak for a long time; my mind goes completely blank.
Sometimes it's because he ejaculates too early.
My dad likes to drink, and when he's drunk, he likes to touch my mom's genitals, even when I'm around.
But my mom hates his hands. Once, while they were watching TV, I hid outside the room
and peeked . I saw my dad put his hand inside my mom's underwear and keep touching it. Suddenly, my mom pushed his hand away and said,
"You're waking me up!" "Come on, let's do it!" "No, not today." "Why not?" "
Why You heartless bastard..." "But it's okay now, isn't it?" "That was then, not now!"
Then I heard them pulling at each other, followed by my mother crying. Finally, my mother said in
a voice , "Here you go, here you go, okay? Come on!" After a while, I heard my father's hoarse
voice...
After
starting junior high school, I heard it less often because I lived at school, but on Saturdays, I still heard it.
Anyway, my mother and I had already missed it once, and now that I'm quite old, it doesn't really count as a
second time. That day, I went to bed very late, and it was summer. My mother was sleeping next to me. We slept
in the living room because it was cooler there.
After I pretended to be asleep, I heard my father call, "Ping, Ping!" My mother waited for a while, then got up and went into their room.
I went inside, then got up. Because it was very dark, I could only see a little by the light.
I felt bitter and sad, but I endured it, as if I had returned to the bittersweet moment of becoming a mother for the first time. I couldn't help but
hear my mother say, "Thinking about it again today?" "Dad: Yes!" "You didn't drink today. If you
say something like that in the future, I'll make you feel comfortable." "Okay, I promise." "Wait a minute, see if our son is asleep." I
quickly lay down, and then my mother came out. I squinted and saw that her nightgown was tucked up to her waist,
and she wasn't wearing anything between her legs, just a dark patch. She glanced at me and went back inside.
"She's asleep. Be quiet, don't wake her." After I got up, I leaned against the door.
"Oh, stop touching me, come in. Don't rush, I'll lie down." Then I heard my father grunt, and then
I heard them both breathing heavily.
Then Mom said, "Be gentle, I'm in my belly right now..." "Okay, I'll be gentle!" "
Okay, go in now!" At this moment, I slowly peeked out and saw through the outside light that the blanket was very high,
rising and falling with Dad's panting.
Mom kept making "humph, humph!" sounds.
During the time I was separated from my son, life gradually returned to normal, but we were both under a lot of psychological pressure.
My son wasn't around, and I was a lonely woman dragging a six or seven-year-old girl. I could only swallow my anger.
After about four minutes, Mom said, "...Yes...just like that...a little longer...his dear
father ..." Dad said, "I'm almost there..." Mom: "Just a little longer..." But Dad immediately
started breathing heavily, his movements quickened, then he stopped and let out a sigh of relief.
He was the son of a miner. He was gradually losing hope of getting married .
Dad didn't say anything, just said, "Get up." With that, I heard Mom push Dad away, then I heard the sound of someone
taking
out toilet paper, then a "hissing" sound. I thought Mom was probably wiping her
genitals. Then, with a "thud," I saw a white object fall to the ground.
"I'm going to sleep outside!" Hearing this, I quickly ran back to the mat and lay down. Then
my mother came out. I squinted and saw that she was wearing a skirt, one hand holding toilet paper to her genitals.
She sat down next to me, then sighed deeply and lay down. I secretly looked at her body and saw that...
In the following year, our sexual needs gradually increased, but back in the mining area, I could
n't keep my skirt up, leaving my belly button bare. The area that used to be covered in black pubic hair was now... Covered by a wad of
toilet paper … Soon after, I had a younger sister, but my parents separated… “At this point, I couldn’t hold back
any longer,
tears welling up in my eyes. Oh God, this is fate.
The separation of my son made the house feel even colder and more desolate. My daughter and I had a really hard time. The neighbors
started gossiping, saying I was a strange, withdrawn person, and many idle people often mocked me.
Misfortune soon struck again. That day, I was alone at home when the old man downstairs came home…” He came to collect
the water and electricity bills , and I went into the inner room to get the money. Who knew this guy would have such evil intentions? He quietly closed the door, then, without a second
thought, grabbed me tightly from behind… By the time I realized my situation and tried to fight back, my hands were already firmly held in his claws
, and his other hand was ruthlessly tearing at my lower body… He pulled out a switchblade, and I trembled in fear
. He took the opportunity to push me onto the sofa… His hands deftly unbuttoned my clothes… I heard
panting … My breasts bounced out… My first instinct was to turn to the side. I tried to go, but I was no
match for . (My efforts were all in vain.) A withered body and two strong legs pressed tightly against me,
making my bones ache unbearably.
It was over! My underwear was torn! My second attempt was to bite. (I opened my mouth, but it missed its target.) That wide mouth
exhaled a foul stench of smoke. It was over! It was over! It was all over! I jerked my right hand away and grabbed at the
spot , completely exhausted… As he climbed off me, he threatened me fiercely, saying that if I didn't behave,
I should report him. The police told him to have his son lead a group to kill my entire family—his son was a notorious thug in our community.
I was terrified and furious, crying until my voice was hoarse, only able to bite my sleeve hard…
Old Zhang left, and I curled up in the bathtub, desperately scrubbing myself, but no matter how much I washed, I felt I couldn't wash
away the filth. I felt like a person rejected by society, and even this kind of person dared to humiliate me! But I
cried alone. After a serious illness, I couldn't bear this life anymore. I went to his company and found him, but I didn't dare tell
him about this… I did this because I was afraid he would look down on me.
My son had already bought a two-bedroom apartment near his company, so my daughter and I went with him,
far away that sad mining area. In the unfamiliar new city, I learned that he had worked hard for the past two years
and made a lot of money through stock trading. He said I had suffered so much for him and deserved to enjoy life, adding that we
would buy a bigger house when we had more money. I finally settled in. Having grown accustomed to a life of hardship and poverty, I found it very difficult to
adjust to my new home at first. My son finally returned to my side, just
like , which brought me some comfort.
But what unsettled me was that we seemed to have become a burden to him. To save money, I sent my daughter to boarding school
. But my son's biggest personal problem remained: he hadn't found a serious girlfriend. He suffered setbacks
time The girls in the city not only had high demands regarding his family's financial situation, but they also disliked him
for not coming home often, or for coming home drunk and reeking of alcohol.
One afternoon after his nap, he didn't... He went to work as usual, then came to my room and said he wanted to "sleep" with me. Upon hearing
this, I realized something was wrong and glared at him. He pressed his body heavily against me, completely ignoring my
slap, but immediately regretted it. My thoughts became chaotic. I understood my son's distress: in the mining area, someone
his age should already be married and have children, but he was still single. His father at that age was like a wolf,
wanting to devour me.
She was a clean woman… I wavered, unsure what to do. But the thought of doing this in the middle of the day at home…
immediately brought waves of nausea and shame, and I covered my face and sobbed. My son was somewhat embarrassed…
Fearful, I said a few soft words and quietly left. When I left the room, I found my son wasn't there, and the living room was littered with cigarette butts.
My heart was filled with a bittersweet feeling. I could almost see my son arguing with those unreasonable girls, feeling incredibly frustrated and miserable
. For a period of time, my son's emotions were very unstable. His work and life pressures seemed too great. He went
crazy, and I could almost see him contracting AIDS after visiting prostitutes...
My son didn't return until after dark. I had prepared dinner and was waiting for him. He seemed to realize he was no longer angry and was relieved
. During dinner... My son timidly apologized, and I remained silent. After a while, I mustered my courage and said, "Tonight
... tonight... you can come over to sleep..." my voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. My son hesitated, looking at my
face, which held no discernible expression. I ate slowly, sometimes making eye contact with him, then immediately lowering my head again. I was
originally the typical Chinese woman, adhering to tradition, dutiful and cautious. In my youth, my actions of showing affection to my husband
were meticulous and thorough, but now, with a gentle and timid demeanor, I am filled with a sense of loss and insecurity. His wife didn't interfere, nor did she disrespect my ex-husband. It was like my son going to prostitutes outside, or me
going out... After taking off my shoes, I led him hand-in-hand to bed. We didn't say anything then, just undressed each other and
let things be.
That night, I made the bed, slowly took off my
clothes
, and lay down waiting for him, trying not to think about what was about to happen, searching my mind for random thoughts, hoping time would pass quickly. My son finished showering, pushed open the door, and carefully slipped into my bed... I closed my eyes, my body rising and falling beneath him,
taking calm myself. My eldest son kissed me foolishly and greedily. I knew he really had never been with a girl before. Intimate
contact. I suddenly felt sorry for my son. At his age, I was already a mother.
Dark and gloomy, I kept asking myself: Is this real? Is that my own son touching me? Is he really kissing
my face? I recalled the pitiful little guy from years ago, and now… My face
flushed, and I gently kneaded the breasts that had once nourished him, lightly biting them, my tongue licking them back and forth…
This almost made me die of shame. Reason told me I should stop my son at all costs, and I
truly didn't want to have sex with him; his caresses couldn't arouse my desire. But my
pity for him troubled me . Confused, I couldn't bring myself to do it.
When our eyes met, his gaze shattered my last line of defense. At the
moment I made up my mind, I surprisingly calmed down and silently let my son enter me. His burning body, our close embrace,
his clumsy yet passionate kisses—they felt both so strange and so familiar. Sometimes, his impulsiveness made
me hold him tightly. The terrifying thing was that after a feeling of my body and soul completely rebelling against my husband, a vague, vengeful pleasure rose
within me .
After everything stopped, my son and I silently put on our clothes. My son was filled with shame and guilt; he stole…
I could only hide under the covers at night and weep silently.
Looking… I, too, was definitely blushing, my body trembled slightly, and then, with my eyes half-open, I
sighed , trying
to
remain and soon fell into a deep sleep, but I didn't sleep a wink all night. When I woke up in the early morning, I couldn't believe it
was all real; it felt like a dream.
After this incident, work became even more unmanageable. Every week, especially at night, he would
... At first, I felt extremely uneasy, but he held me tightly, and even through my pants, he
... There was always a nagging thought and an obstacle in my mind. I knew that guilt and resistance also clung to my son;
he felt sorry for me but couldn't control himself. What was wrong with us?
A year later, we finally adapted to this kind of life, and our relationship became routine. Every day when he came home, I would...
Then one Sunday, he took me shopping, saying he wanted to buy me something. When we arrived at the jewelry store,
I initially refused to go in, but after his persuasion and the shop assistant's encouragement, I reluctantly went in.
He wanted to buy me a ring and asked if I liked it. I was a little uneasy and said, "You decide." When I
was about to pay, I bargained with the shop assistant and actually saved (a hundred yuan). Money.
Shameless thing... What have you learned in your studies... The child was also very remorseful, kneeling down and begging for my forgiveness.
When we got home, he put his arm around me and sat on the sofa, took out the ring, and I even felt shy. Another thing is that
his legs were crossed slightly apart, his posture was upright, and his hands were placed at his sides. But today, his head was slightly lowered, his legs were together,
and his posture was... This posture didn't speak for itself; it actually revealed my inner world. I had completely regarded my son as my own
support, and I was no longer the mother who would scold him at the slightest provocation.
Especially when he took my hand and put the ring on my fingers, which were roughened by years of hard work, words
could not describe the expression on my face.
That ... It was so engraved in my heart!
I never explained the meaning of that ring then, and even to this day, but we both understood. At least
we both thought of it that way: it was like an "engagement ring" for us, mother and son.
Afterwards, we slept together. It was the most joyful and tender intercourse we'd ever had since we started dating.
He gently pulled me up, and I stood up lightly, feeling like a young girl. We walked closely together towards the bedroom, occasionally
smiling to each other.
At the door, I paused, closed the door, and then followed him to the bed, embracing and kissing.
He unbuttoned my jacket, remaining silent for a long time. He clearly noticed I had changed into the new underwear he had bought for me—
before, I had made my own underwear from old fabric. He… He probably understood my feelings as a mother. The lingerie
wasn't particularly sexy; what was sexy was a mother's heart: son, I belong to you now.
I smiled shyly, and we kissed again. The lingerie pieces fell like leaves in the wind, while he remained impeccably dressed in
his suit. When I saw my arrogant son in the mirror, holding me, his naked mother, in his arms,
I felt an unprecedented thrill and immense joy.
I closed my eyes, enjoying my son's caresses and kisses.
After letting him touch me for a while, I straightened up, looked at my child somewhat shyly, lowered my head, and gently loosened his
tie , removing his shirt. As I took off his pants, I couldn't help but feel a little shy, so I simply hugged him again.
I pressed my breasts against his chest.
He put one leg on the bed, draped my thigh over his, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed me.
I opened my eyes and whispered, "You've dirtied the bed." He smiled, not caring at all.
After all, it wasn't him washing the sheets, but my mother, so I felt more sorry for him.
I took my leg off, knelt down to untie his shoelaces, took off his shoes, then stood up and wrapped my arms around his waist.
This mother and prostitute were no different, except the first time was more expensive, and afterwards, she wouldn't have to pay. Of course,
such thoughts were just subconscious nerve stimulation, nothing more.
Freedom, a new way of life, perfectly filled this void. We were mother and son, and even if we spent a lot of time
alone together, no one would suspect anything...
We knelt facing each other, wearing each other's clothes. I refused his kisses, but still held his hands tightly. He
ran his hand along his belt (down), looked at me, and I understood what he meant. I loosened
his belt. We were immediately naked. I remember one detail: we carefully placed our clothes on the stool beside the bed, instead of throwing them all over the floor like in Hong Kong
movies .
At that moment, I was too embarrassed to move, so I knelt there, looking down at the bed. He then hugged me, and my hands stroked
his body under my son's arm.
He lay down and reached out to pull me, wanting me to lie on top of him, but I didn't immediately understand what he meant. I
lay naked next to him, so he had to turn around, and I turned around and lay down as well. When he pressed down on me, I spread my legs and
quickly turned around to push him away. I didn't know whether my heart was hot or cold, or even what I felt. I just kept
my legs together, and everything was perfectly coordinated.
This time, my son easily entered my vagina.
This was the first time my son and I had made love in a well-lit place. I kept my eyes tightly closed, not daring to look at him, my thighs
wrapped around his waist, my hands holding him... I held tight to his neck. He thrust gently, and sometimes I would open my mouth and silently exhale.
After all, he was my son, and our reproductive organs worked together very well. When he thrust harder,
my body would involuntarily tremble.
I would take deep breaths, and he would gently pat me, signaling me to relax.
When my son ejaculated, my whole body would tense up, clinging tightly to him until a minute after he finished, before relaxing.
At dinner, we would sit very close. We didn't say much, just occasionally smiled at each other. I hadn't smiled as much in the first half of
my as I had today.
A year later, our passion had waned somewhat, but we were still harmonious. My biggest worry was contraception; he
refused to wear condoms, so I had to continue taking pills. Later, he got a girlfriend, so I wouldn't let him touch me.
Now, what makes me happy is that my daughter got into a university outside the province. My son also got married. I've become a mother again
, not even letting my son kiss me, afraid of being seen. Once, my daughter-in-law was in the bathroom, and he secretly said to me:
"Don't wear underwear." I glared at him and asked, "Why?" My son was very annoyed. Another time at dinner,
my wife went to the kitchen, and he secretly touched my thigh, startling me so much I almost dropped my bowl. I kept my head down, my voice low and my
powerful chin firmly planted. At the same time, he huffed and puffed from his large, barrel-like mouth,
scolding, "Are you crazy?"
Sometimes, my son would sneak out to see me while he was at work, and I would reluctantly allow it, but it was always
rushed , and he never got to be completely satisfied. Sometimes, when my daughter-in-law was away on business or there was a company outing, I... I reluctantly and reluctantly
satisfied my son's request.
After all, I'm almost fifty years old. My face has many wrinkles, my hair is streaked with gray, and my breasts
are starting to sag. I also have a lot of fat on my lower abdomen, making me look like I'm three months pregnant. Although I'm considered reasonably attractive
compared to , I'm far from being as youthful and beautiful as my daughter-in-law. But for some reason,
my son is still very attached to me. Perhaps it's because he craves excitement; he
sees . He doesn't look down on me at all; on the contrary, he seems quite proud of me. Having sex with his own mother!
Also, every time I sleep with him, we use the traditional method. Because we are incestuous, he
treats me very differently. My son wants me to imitate the characters in those adult films, but I tell him I don't want to imitate those sluts.
At that moment I felt very ashamed; even the most despicable woman wouldn't stoop to sleeping with her own son. Of course, this is something I absolutely cannot say
aloud.
I originally thought that our sex life, like that of ordinary couples, would fade with time and eventually cease, but
that's not the case. I think it's because of the inability to fully satisfy my desires.
Compared to ... In the past year, my son and I have had sex far more often than his wife, and the location is more often in the kitchen than
in bed, usually right after I get off work. Because my daughter-in-law sells vegetables,
she usually arrives about 10 hours later than my son, and we take advantage of this. At this time, I'm usually in the kitchen cutting meat or washing rice, and my son comes in
... But back then I was timid and didn't dare tell my mother. Later, after hearing it so many times, I got used to it. One time, my father
went straight to the kitchen.
When I returned home exhausted, they... When I need him, he reaches out, and I drop what I'm doing, turn around, and hug him. (
End of excerpt) Over the years, although I've tasted some of the sweetness of love, the weariness and burdens on my heart have never truly ended.
Then we kiss and caress each other in the kitchen. I prefer him to touch me; I rarely initiate it. While
touching my son, he reached under my skirt and pulled down my underwear, pressing me against the kitchen wall… and then…
all of that was left behind. After each sexual encounter, what awaits me is endless hatred. Especially now that I have
a grandson , the pressure is even greater; I even dream of my ancestors cursing me. But I still want to say that after experiencing so much
suffering, I now have an idea… Because I had my own ideas, worldly influences on my son and me weren't too
great.
Theoretically, it's incestuous, but in practice, I took precautions to prevent pregnancy, so there was no messy blood
relations social harm, and no scandalous behavior. It was purely about satisfying psychological needs, like eating and sleeping. For me
, it was wrong; for others, it caused social harm; and for myself, it could lead to sexually transmitted diseases. Actually, my son and I weren't abnormal. It was
the child's lack of discipline regarding sexual matters, the loss of his father, his later years, and my long-term widowhood
that led to this… Thinking back, I have a new understanding of my mother's situation. If anyone is to blame, it's her heartless
father's shameful deeds and this cold, pragmatic society.
We are determined to end this relationship and start a new life. Although it will take some time, my son and I will do it.
He came home on his 19th birthday, and the company had just given out a large bonus. My son and I were very happy
.
[End of text]

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A woman whose life was full of suffering

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