My Husband Transformation Diary

I have a boyfriend I've known for several years, a close friend, who's twenty years younger than me, 28 this year, and we've been married for three years. A few months ago, he confided in me, saying his wife had slept with his father. Although he works in another city and only comes home once a week on weekends, he still found out. Anger, shame, disappointment—a mix of emotions overwhelmed him, and he cried in my arms like a child, saying he wanted a divorce. I advised him to calm down first, after all, we have a two-year-old child, and it's not something you can just decide to do.
Some time later, when we were on a date, we talked about it, and he said he really couldn't accept it at the time. Every time he came home, he would question his wife about whether his father had come and how many times. His wife, perhaps feigning indifference, answered truthfully. Later, he went even further, asking directly how many times they had sex and whether it was enjoyable. He said that every time he asked these questions, he would inexplicably get excited, and his penis would quickly become erect. He would ask his wife for details while having sex with her, and even asked her if she would be willing to have sex with him and their son together. He didn't understand why I felt this way, and of course, I didn't know either. I was also worried that my incestuous relationship with my son would eventually be discovered by my husband. I often predicted the various consequences of being exposed: divorce? Or him pretending not to know? Of course, what I wanted most was for him to accept it, for the father and son to have sex with me together.
Inspired by my boyfriend's family situation, I decided to test my husband. During that time, we had argued about something and were in a cold war. At night, I was lying in bed looking at my phone when he came in and slept next to me, asking if I wasn't feeling well. Haha, he was just trying to make conversation, trying to reconcile. Every time we had a cold war, he was the one who begged for forgiveness first; it had become a habit.
I turned to him and said, "Do you want to have sex with me?
" "Yeah, I've been wanting to for a long time," he said, reaching his hand inside my pajamas to rub my breasts.
I said, "I have a question for you, and you have to answer honestly: who is your sexual fantasy when you have sex with me?"
"Fantasy? It's you. What? You suspect I'm having an affair?" He looked wary.
"Hmph, nobody believes you," I thought to myself. "I was just asking, I didn't say you had anyone else."
"I'm talking to the light..."
*snap*, I turned off the light. "I don't need you to swear, I need you to tell the truth."
"Really, there's no one else. If you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do. So let me ask you, who is your sexual fantasy object?"
He used offense as defense, throwing the question back at me. However, this was exactly the question I was waiting for.
"I..." I turned around and pretended to be embarrassed.
"Oh, you're feeling guilty, thinking about someone else, and you're questioning me first."
I reached out and turned on the light, saying to him, "Why are you so agitated? I wasn't thinking about anyone else, but you can't be angry after I told you."
He hummed twice,
and I mustered up my courage and looked at him, saying, "It's my son."
After saying that, I felt a surge of nervousness, afraid that he would have an overreaction.
He looked completely bewildered, and after a long while, he said, "Are you crazy?"
"My sexual fantasy is about my son because he looks a lot like you when you were young. Do you remember the first time you did it to me on our wedding night? You were so hasty and it hurt so much." At
the crucial moment, I brought up the night I deflowered him, something I often boasted about to him after marriage. For a conservative man like him, a woman's first time is incredibly precious.
"Sigh, I was young then, and wasted so many wonderful things," he sighed.
At that moment, I took his hand and moved it to my crotch, boldly saying, "Honey, have you noticed that when our son wakes up in the morning, his penis is so hard it's bulging up his underwear, just like you were when you were young? Back then you did it with me every day, now it's only a few times a month."
"Now that I'm old, you're already eyeing our son? How shameless!"
I said, but I didn't see any anger in his voice.
"Telling you my true feelings only makes you scold me, I'm not saying anything more."
"I'm not angry, but your thoughts are too absurd."
"Honey," I reached under his penis and grasped it, saying, "Several times I've dreamt of making love with our son, him licking me and then doing it to me, it felt so good. Once you found out, and you chased me with a knife, waking me up in fright."
I paused, then added, "If I really did it with our son, you would definitely do it." I probed. "Maybe," he chuckled, "
our son has a girlfriend, and you, this old woman, only have me, this old man, interested
. " I said, "I'll try it tomorrow night. Let's see if he's interested."
"You dare! Wow. You're so wet down there. Want to let our son fuck you? Getting horny?"
"I won't tell you. Hehe, you're hard, want me to give you oral sex?"
He responded with a "hmm." So, I buried my head there.
That night was full of passion. My husband actually did it three times! I praised him, saying he's still got it. My husband said that tonight, the fire of passion in his heart was as burning as when he was young, as if it were our wedding night again. Yes, we've always had a cold, mechanical sex life. It's been a long, long time since we've had this kind of foreplay, this kind of flirting, this entanglement. I was satisfied. We had passion again. More importantly, I'd gotten a better feel for my husband's attitude towards incest. At least it wasn't as serious as I'd imagined. I'm a cunning woman. I want to reform my husband, for the sake of family harmony, for our sexual happiness, for the love between my son and me. I will try my best. Hehehe, I really feel like a Japanese housewife
.

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