The mother of the scoundrel

"Brother, you're really something, talking about this with a child, it's disrespectful to an elder."
A child? I've slept with two women, one of whom was you, Mom!
My uncle pulled me closer, grinning, and said,
"Seriously, Anan is a great student. There's something I might need to trouble you with, my cousin Xiaolian. She's about to
start middle school, and she might need to stay here. I wonder if that's alright? Also, I'd like to ask Anan to help Xiaolian with her studies
, hehe."
Mom readily agreed. Why be polite among family? I didn't really remember my cousin Xiaolian; she'd been here
once , she was dark-skinned, and I hadn't really looked her over. My aunt complained that my uncle was troubling them too much, and the two of them
argued briefly at the table. Mom and I quickly smoothed things over.
After my uncle's family left, only Mom and I were left at home. Without the lively chatter of a large group, it
felt much quieter. But being with my beloved mother felt like a peaceful honeymoon.
After our relationship began, I often unconsciously treated Mom as my wife. While she was cooking
, I would stand beside her, quietly admiring her beautiful back. Her graceful figure and alluring body, combined with
the , completely captivated me, filling me with lust. Especially her swaying, beautiful buttocks—if she were naked,
I would surely ravish her.
When we ate together, she busied herself serving me food, but what I wanted to eat was: my mother leaning over, her collar inadvertently revealing
her round, plump breasts, their white, jade-like skin—I really wanted to bite them and never let go.
Sometimes, my mother, with her childlike heart, would pull me into role-playing games. We would sometimes revisit long-forgotten memories; I
would pretend to be a baby, and my mother would recount the most difficult times she spent caring for me, while I would lie happily in her
arms, watching her feed me.
Once, I suggested that my mother and I pretend to be husband and wife. She laughed and flicked my forehead with her finger, saying,
"You naughty son, aren't you ashamed? Can a mother and son be husband and wife?"
I quickly said, "Dad often argues with you, making Mom suffer a lot. Actually, I've been wanting to see this for a long time
. Mom, let me play Dad and let's simulate the happiness of being husband and wife."
Mom shook her head, her eyes reddening, tears welling up. She took a breath, opened her arms, and softly asked me to
hug her. I slowly walked over, my nose suddenly feeling a little sore. I hugged Mom tightly. A few withered petals
blew in Mom picked one up, rested her head on my shoulder, and softly asked,
"Son, am I old?"
"Mom isn't old, and I'm as beautiful and young as a fairy!"
"If Mom were very, very old, would you still love Mom?"
"Love! By then, I'll grow old with Mom too."
That night, as we went to bed, I followed her into the room and rolled around on her bed. She smiled and asked why I
liked her bed so much. I said Mom's bed smelled so good, it reminded me of the times I slept with her when I was little. Mom
smiled and came over, opening her arms and saying,
"Little baby, come here, let Mom hug you, see if you've wet your pants?"
I pounced on her like an elephant, hugging my smiling mother as if she were my lover,
gazing at her with boundless love. Her silky hair, her bright, sparkling eyes, her full, delicate nose, her cherry-like lips—beauty
couldn't be described in words; she was simply enchanting.
Mom held me close, carefully watching every inch of my skin grow, until she met my tender gaze.
She seemed a little confused, her eyes trying to see into my heart, while in my heart I kept saying, "Mom, I love
you, I want you." After gazing at each other for a while, she vaguely recognized that it was her father's gaze. Her face flushed crimson, but
she didn't look away. Her captivating eyes, like gentle water, embraced the desire in my eyes.
Time stood still. In that moment of divine intervention, there was no distinction between mother and son between my mother and me; only
the exchange of feelings between a man and a woman. One was a young man infatuated with my mother's beauty; the other was a woman who only sought money from men and had never
loved . My mother was the woman who gave me life; my son was the man I loved most in my life.
When all of this could not be expressed in words or actions, this silence appeared.
It felt like ten thousand years had passed when my mother exhaled a breath that had been compressed for so long, yet it was so sweet
and warm . She coughed lightly, her mouth dry, and instantly the stillness of time melted away. Only then did we hear the rapid beating
of our hearts. My mother broke the barrier, pushed me away, stood up, and opened the window. The wind blew away the sweltering atmosphere in the room
, and mother and son slept without saying a word that night.
In the middle of the night, when I got up to pee, I looked at my sleeping mother, petite, cute, and alluring, and my mind
started wandering again! I tried to nudge her a little, but she didn't wake up. I tried again,
shaking her even harder. Hooray!! My mother jerked and then sat up. Something was wrong! She opened her sleepy eyes and
snapped ,
"What is it, son? Why did you wake me up?"
I knew she wasn't sleepwalking, so I quickly made up an excuse. After thinking for
a moment, I said I was bitten by mosquitoes. My mother scolded me severely, but she still got up, lit mosquito coils, and covered me with another blanket. I pulled back
the blanket and ran to the bathroom, using my hands as a wife and the toilet as a womb.
The next day, I rushed to the library to look up information. I searched for ages in the medical section before finally finding a book called "A
Brief Analysis of Mental Illness." Damn, a brief analysis? It was as thick as two or three bricks! I quickly looked through it, and an old man
next to me gestured at the book, praising my eagerness to learn at such a young age. I retorted irritably that I was
mentally ill . The old man nonchalantly stood up and quickly walked away. I
continued searching and found a section on sleepwalking, which listed many symptoms, some caused by extreme fright or
nervous tension. I took notes, noting several cases similar to my mother's.
Patient A, due to childhood sexual abuse, experienced sleepwalking at night after daytime suggestions;
Patient B, due to remorseful actions, experienced sleepwalking at night when feeling uneasy;
Patient D, experienced sleepwalking due to overwork and nervous weakness. My mother had all three of these cases.
The reason my mother sleepwalked the night I had sex with her, I thought about it, and one reason was the sounds of sex next door,
and another was that I had gone shopping that day, taking care of my grandmother and helping relatives with shopping, which made my mother unusually tired
. I think all of this was the reason for her sleepwalking.
When my father saw my mother sleepwalking, one reason was
the lewd , and another was that my mother sleepwalked when she was tired. These deductions made everything clear to me! Next...
The beautiful mother waited for her son to get treatment, but it was for my illness—my lustful illness, the lustful illness of incest!
Walking out of the library, I saw the old man from before. I happily went over and hugged him, kissing his
face repeatedly, scaring him so much he yelled that I was crazy. I patted his bald head and sped away.
A few days later, my uncle came from the countryside again, accompanied by my cousin Xiaolian. Wow, this little girl is so pretty! She
has beautiful, flower-like eyes, lively and adorable black pupils, sparkling with life. She has a delicate
, upturned nose, a smiling mouth like her mother's, and pearly white teeth, though one is missing a canine, making her look even more
childlike and small ponytail. I think she looks less like my aunt and more like my mother—a miniature version
of my mother, probably inheriting genes from the women in my mother's family.
When she saw me, she was a little shy and timidly called me "cousin." I happily responded, "My little
cousin and then pulled her to the room that had been prepared for her to show her around. She looked delighted,
jumping and bouncing on the Simmons mattress, her face flushed and delicate, innocent and beautiful. It was then that I realized that
although my little cousin's face was very childish and cute, her full, plump breasts, swaying as she jumped up and down, gave me a kind of
itchy feeling. Damn, she's not even an adult yet! What am I thinking? My penis protested and twitched a few times, making me go
to the bathroom. Damn it, why did my uncle bring her? If my aunt had come, I could have threatened her and had sex with her again
.
My little cousin's arrival made our house much more lively. This little girl was very curious. After getting to know me and my mother,
she became bold and unusual, wanting to try everything. After a few days, she had played with all the appliances in the house to her heart's content, even breaking a
vacuum cleaner.

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The mother of the scoundrel

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