[Urban] Must be fucked to death (complete) - 4-6

07: Corn South Country

- Key Points: Mother-son incest, enema, urethral ravaging, defecation, foreign object insertion, anal sex, orgasm.

If you like it, please continue reading.

If you can't accept it, exit immediately!

No one is forcing you to read.

I'm warning you!

Episode 7: The main text begins

. As soon as I entered the door, before I could even take out the test strip, I saw my mother signing a document with a pen held in her toes.

I went over, and what I saw made me furious!

It was a voluntary body donation agreement.

I was enraged, grabbing my mother's bald shoulders and shaking her, asking, "What are you doing?!"

I hate women who are half-dead.

She calmly said, "Let go of me first. I have something to say."

I let go of her, sat next to her, and looked at the agreement.

My mother said seriously, "I've thought about this for a long time. My body is my own decision, right?"

I said, "It's your decision. I'm not against you donating, I'm saying, why do you have to sign this now?"

She's recently pregnant with my child, and she's completely despondent and can't seem to think straight.

Mom said, "We should prepare for this early. What if something happens to me someday and we don't have time to make arrangements..."

I knew she'd been particularly pessimistic lately.

I said, "You can't be so pessimistic. You're still so young, you have a long and good life ahead of you!"

Mom didn't say anything.

I said, "Don't overthink it. Just enjoy your retirement with your son."

Mom nodded and said, "I read in the newspaper the other day that medical schools are facing a severe shortage of cadavers, and students don't have any to dissect."

I said, "I know. But you can't let yourself get upset."

Mom said, "Anyway, you're useless after you die, so donating your body can at least make a contribution."

I said, "I know, I'm not against you donating. I just mean..."

Mom interrupted me, saying, "Let me finish! I mean, before I go, I need to trouble you."

I asked, "What is it?"

Mom said, "They say that after a person dies, they poop and pee everywhere."

I said, "Yes, once the flesh loosens, it just leaks out."

Mom said, "Before I go, please give me two enemas, clean me thoroughly inside and out, so I don't look too undignified."

I said, "Okay."

I quickly took out a test strip, tore open the packaging, and placed a large salad bowl on the carpet next to the coffee table.

Mom sighed, obediently got up, squatted on the glass bowl, and started urinating.

After urinating, I inserted the test strip into the urine, waited three seconds, took it out, and laid it flat on the coffee table.

Mom started to tremble slightly, leaning weakly against my shoulder.

I put my arm around her waist, stroking her, my attention completely focused on the test strip.

One minute passed.

Two minutes passed.

Three minutes passed.

Four minutes passed.

Five minutes passed.

Mom closed her eyes, afraid to look at the test strip, afraid to ask anything.

I monitored her.

My mood gradually rose.

I picked up the test strip, looked at it again, and asked Mom, "Have you been vomiting in the mornings these past few days?"

Mom said, "Um...no."

I asked, "Are you nauseous?"

Mom said, "Not too nauseous."

I asked, "Are your breasts engorged?"

Mom said, "They're not engorged if you don't do anything."

I said, "You're lying!" [Note: a8] Mom opened her eyes and said, "Let me see."

I showed her the test strip.

One line in the control area, an undeniable negative result.

Mom said embarrassedly, "Look at the mess this has made."

I said, "You can't do this! You've even had a baby!"

Mom said, "Who used this kind of thing back then?"

I said, "Don't you know whether you vomit milk or have bloating in the morning?"

Mom said, "I was so scared I was confused..."

I said, "It's embarrassing! Don't go out and tell anyone!"

It was a false alarm.

The pressure was off, and we both laughed, each more relaxed than the last.

I threw the test strip into the trash can next to the sofa.

She said, "Mom is just causing you trouble."

Although she said that, her tone was much lighter.

I boiled some corn and came back, saying, "Let's practice now."

Mom said, "Practice what?"

I said, "Sending you on your way."

Mom remembered the preparations we had just talked about before donating and smiled, saying, "Oh, okay, let's do it."

I said, "First step, lie down in a comfortable position."

Mom obediently lay down.

I said, "Second step, take off your pants."

I took off her pants and covered her with blankets, leaving only her midriff exposed.

I picked up the small scissors and said, "Step three, remove the hair."

Mom was puzzled and said, "Remove the hair again?"

I answered while cutting the hair, "Yes. They remove the hair and prepare the skin before an autopsy."

Mom said, "Oh, okay."

I asked while cutting the hair, "Maybe you want those students to prepare your skin later?"

Mom said, "Hmm...we'll see...but it's exciting to think about."

I cut her pubic hair close to the skin, leaving only a few millimeters high, like a miniature harvested wheat field.

I filled a cup of hot water from the water dispenser and said, "Step four, warm the hair with hot water."

I soaked a small square towel in hot water, let it cool slightly, and covered her stubble.

I repeated this three times until the stubble roots were thoroughly warmed and softened. I said, "Step five, shave."

I picked up a razor and carefully shaved her pubic hair.

After shaving, I wiped it clean with a small square towel soaked in hot water.

I placed a mirror diagonally between her thighs, showing her genitals so she could admire herself.

At this moment, her vulva was completely bare, pale and bald, looking strange.

Under continuous stimulation, her labia were already slightly swollen and red, pouting at me coquettishly.

Her hairless vulva resembled that of a schoolgirl, a young girl.

And she, so dependent on me, soft-spoken and silly, was herself like a young girl.

I said, "Sixth step, cleanse this woman's intestines."

I was still loudly announcing the procedure.

My mother's face had already begun to glow.

As I was urinating, I said, "Mom, there are male caregivers now. Why don't you try it?"

Mom said, "Go away! In all these years, besides your father and you, has any man ever come here?"

But I knew that while she said that, she was already fantasizing.

There's no need to pressure a woman; just guide her.

Take it step by step, give her ideas, and she'll gradually develop them.

After the enema, when she went to defecate, the corn was almost cooked.

I turned off the heat, put the corn on a plate to cool, and went to the bathroom to clean her back.

A big, dark basin. She'd really pooped a lot. There were still many fecal balls and clumps in it.

I flushed it, helped her back from the bathroom, and sat her on the sofa.

I ate a boiled corn cob while touching my mother's red and congested urethra.

I said, "Mom, I love touching you here... I really like it." My mother

's moans were sad and plaintive, like weeping.

My mother said indistinctly, "Ugh... touch me... touch Mom..."

I chewed on corn kernels while rubbing my mother's ravaged urethra.

My mother groaned and gasped, "Put your finger in..."

I gently inserted my index finger.

Her urethra was already dilated by the catheter, soft at the opening, hot and damp inside.

I inserted my index finger, while my thumb rubbed her clitoris.

Mom trembled.

I asked, "Does it feel good?"

Mom nodded and hummed, "Mmm! Mmm, it feels good..."

My index finger slowly moved in and out of Mom's urethra.

Mom was naked and writhing like a lamprey, like a sea serpent.

If she had hands at that moment, she would definitely be touching herself.

After I finished eating the boiled corn, looking at the gnawed corn cob, I suddenly had an idea and casually inserted the corn cob into her widowed vagina. Her

vagina was bare, already very wet inside.

One hand violated her urethra and twisted her clitoris, while the other hand gripped the corn cob and thrust it into her filthy vagina.

Mom whimpered with a sob, writhing on the sofa.

I watched her, brutally ravaging Mom.

I thrust into her, tortured her, and stuffed corn cob into her vagina.

Looking at my armless mother, I suddenly understood why so many people love watching Venus.

That kind of incomplete beauty is strangely breathtaking.

I stuffed corn kernels into my mother's vagina.

I thrust harder and harder.

My mother trembled, reaching orgasm.

Her whole body trembled, like a turkey being electrocuted.

Her vagina secreted a lot of dirty, sticky fluid, leaking out like soft mud.

Her secretions had been getting thicker and thicker these past two days. The fishy, pungent smell was overwhelming.

I said, "Mom, there's so much nasal mucus in your vagina."

My mother, still weak after her orgasm, asked, "Isn't it disgusting?"

I said, "Yes, you're disgusting!"

I lifted one of her thighs and licked her anus.

As I was tenderly licking her anus, she suddenly let out a loud "bang," a clear and loud fart, with a rich, unique, strong, and moist aroma of large intestine.

Mom blushed and said, "Oh, I'm so sorry, I really feel bad. I don't know how this fart came out."

I said, "It stinks. Didn't you just have an enema? Why does it still smell so bad?"

Mom said, "When people are alive, they're all just stinking shells, it's all the same."

She's an old woman, no longer pretty, but because of our blood ties, I'm too familiar with her, and after seeing her so many times, I think she's still not bad-looking.

I slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a pair of slightly sagging soft breasts.

The years have worn them down, and with gravity, those two big breasts that fed me more than twenty years ago have become loose and sagging.

There's some extra fat around her belly. It's all inevitable. When I'm her age, I'll have a belly too.

I took off her shirt, revealing her plump, fair upper body.

I took turns touching her two slightly sagging breasts.

I pulled down my pants, revealing my hard, thick cock, and pressed it against her anus, asking, "Is it itchy inside?"

She said, "Mmm..."

I slowly inserted my weapon, thrusting into my mother's rectum, slowly in and out, enjoying the comfortable and pleasurable sensation of breaking the rules.

Her vagina was still filled with corn cob.

I controlled the rhythm of the attack, with the corn cob as the main attacker and me providing support from behind.

Listening to her moans gradually rise in intensity, my cock gradually slid all the way in, powerfully slamming against my mother's thighs, making a loud "slap slap" sound.

I fucked her until her old vagina couldn't tell whether it was her vagina or her anus that felt good.

And so, after the "cheating incident," I went to see my mother during the day and fucked sluts at night.

Life was peaceful and leisurely .

Moving between these two women, my back gradually ached.

Sometimes I had to choose who to ejaculate with.

That is to say, I would fuck this one for two hours, but not ejaculate, saving my "serving grain" for the next woman.

I poured my limited semen into both women.

As the saying goes, good times don't last forever.

My mom had just cheated on me, and now this slut is causing trouble again.

That day, after visiting my mom, I bought two kinds of hemorrhoid medication on my way back to the apartment. [Brands omitted – a8 note] Back at the apartment, I said, "You have hemorrhoids."

She said, "Yes, I know."

I said, "I bought you some medicine; this is for applying, and this is for suppositories."

She said, "Suppositories?"

I said, "You just insert them."

I applied the medicine for her.

She said, "You're so good to me. You know, no one has ever cared about me like this before."

She suddenly said, "I have something to tell you, but don't be angry."

I had a bad feeling.

I said, "What is it? Tell me."

She asked, "Remember the plums from that day?"

I said, "I remember, you said they didn't cost anything."

I recalled the complicated look in her eyes after she finished eating the plums that day.

She said, "Yes, I put it in my pocket and walked towards the door. As soon as I stepped out, the alarm next to the door went off."

I said, "There are those things at the supermarket entrance. They go off as soon as an undemagnetized item passes by."

She said, "Why didn't you tell me sooner! I was completely confused. The security guard came over and took me upstairs."

I asked, "How many security guards?"

She said, "One. You know, I really like security guards."

I said, "I know. Tell me what happened next."

She said, "That day when you came back and asked me what I was doing, I was actually thinking about that handsome security guard masturbating. I didn't dare tell you that day."

I said, "Tell me what that security guard did to you first?"

She said, "He said he was going to take me to the police station. I was so scared..."

I said, "And then?"

She said, "Then he took me to an empty room and said that first-time offenders don't have to be taken to the police station, but there's a condition."

I asked, "You let him have sex with you?"

She bit her lip and nodded.

My heart raced, filled with excitement and rage: "Tell me! I want to hear it from you!"

She replied, "Yes, he fucked me..."

I asked, "You even had an orgasm?"

Her face flushed red, she nodded in panic.

For some reason, I was eager to know the details...

To be continued

08: Interrogating the Slut

Key hints for this episode: betrayal, forced intercourse, forced orgasm, finger rape, public exposure, humiliation, defecation, anal sex, passion.

If you like it, please continue reading.

If you can't accept it, exit immediately!

No one is forcing you to read.

I'm warning you!

Episode 8 begins

I asked, "You let him fuck you?"

She bit her lip and nodded shyly.

My heart raced, filled with excitement and rage: "Tell me! I want to hear it from you!"

She replied, "Yes, he fucked me..."

I asked, "You even had an orgasm?"

Her face flushed red, she nodded shyly.

For some reason, I was curious and wanted to know all the details.

I said, "Tell me, how did he do it to you?!"

She said, "He locked the door and touched me up there. I was still really scared, my heart was racing, and I was trembling."

I touched her bare breasts.

She was sweating nervously.

She said, "He kissed me and said he hadn't touched a woman in a long time. He said I was really pretty."

I pinched her nipples. They were quite hard, plump, and round.

I had never seen her nipples so erect.

She said, "He put his hand inside my clothes and touched me. He's taller than you."

Inferiority and anger made my heart race, and the adrenaline made my penis strangely erect, clanging.

I stubbornly thrust my penis into her.

I said, "Keep talking! You slut!"

Her vagina gripped my rock-hard penis tightly.

She continued, "When he was inside me, I really wanted to pee. His was so long, so thick, so dark red, bigger than yours. I'm sorry."

I said, "Keep going! You slut! I'm talking about you!"

She said, "I heard him talking badly about me. I felt his thing was really hard. It was quite exciting."

I said, "Bad girl! You slut. I have to punish you!"

I grabbed the handcuffs and cuffed her hands to the iron railings at the head of the bed, and continued fucking her.

I especially like tying or handcuffing women up while doing it. That feeling is incredibly exciting.

In this position, she was forced to expose her armpits, the sweat glistening slightly, emitting a hot, sour, pungent smell.

The sour, pungent smell made my penis harder and harder.

She said, "He was really weird. He took out a pair of stockings and insisted I put them on, then he did it to me, and later he was on the phone while he was doing it to me."

I asked, "On the phone? Who was he calling?"

She said, "I don't know, maybe his girlfriend."

I asked, "What did he say?"

She said, "He said he was having sex with a woman. He was panting as he said it. He even made me breathe into the phone."

I was fucking her while rubbing her clitoris.

Her clitoris was swollen and shiny, like a plump soybean.

She said, "He lasted a very short time, he ejaculated not long after he went in."

I said, "Don't try to fool me!"

She said, "I'm not fooling you. I'm telling the truth."

I said, "If you come back here and your pussy is still itchy, you'll let me keep fucking you, right?!"

She said, "Yeah. Yes. Oh... harder..."

I said, "You slutty pussy!"

She said, "Yeah... I'm slutty..."

I said, "Go on, tell me what happened next!"

She said, "After he ejaculated, he played with me with his hands, which made me feel really good."

Hearing this, my penis was already painfully hard.

I said, "How did he play with you with his hands?"

Interrogating her gave me pleasure.

I was having a blast watching her, naked and handcuffed to the bed railing with her arms raised, while I was fucking her.

She said, "He put his fingers in and pushed them hard into my pussy. The semen from my pussy flowed down his hand." (I don't know the a8 character library)

I said, "And then?"

She said, "He kept pushing against me, and it felt so good when he was pushing against one spot."

She might have been talking about the G-spot, or maybe the F-spot, N-spot, V-spot, X-spot, or K-spot.

Damn! Women's bodies are getting more and more refined these days.

I asked, "You came?"

She said, "Ugh... I even peed..."

I fucked her with all my might.

Her two dicks were almost flying off from my shaking.

She couldn't utter complete sentences anymore. The words were scattered by my shaking, fragments floating out, the order was all gone.

The transcript according to the order she uttered is as follows: "Ugh! He I you ah ah hum huh oh no um don't me ah!..."

I panted and said, "You slut who let a donkey fuck you! You dare betray me, I'll ruin you!"

I said as I fucked her and slapped her face hard.

"Slap! Slap!" "Gurgle gurgle..." "Slap! Slap!" "Gurgle gurgle..."

She was being slapped, fucked, and handcuffed by me, yet she grew increasingly agitated, her body twisting violently.

Humiliation brought her pleasure.

This contradicted the self-respect she had received, yet it gave her joy.

Humans are paradoxical machines.

I was thrusting my cock into a cunt that had just been fucked by someone else.

This cunt, being fucked and humiliated by me, was once again surging towards a familiar peak.

We were both completely immersed in a vast ocean of sex.

She was almost falling apart from my thrusting, moaning excitedly.

Her voice was distorted from my penetration.

Finally, we both reached our climax.

Fireworks soared into the sky, dazzling and brilliant for a moment.

Watching her distorted face, writhing flesh, moaning in climax beneath me, I suddenly felt that climax was particularly ugly, and women were particularly ugly.

After the fireworks, everything returned to paleness.

I sat beside her, lit a cigarette with a "pop," and breathed heavily, staring at her naked body, trying to calm myself down.

She was still tightly handcuffed. Her hair was a mess. Her face was flushed. Sweat clung to her forehead and armpits.

My semen was flowing thickly from her vagina. It had already reached her anus.

I wondered: Was what she said true?

Or was it just a story? Was it just to make my dick harder?

When two people are together, they should think of some creative additives/fuels.

I said to her sternly, "Listen, don't do that again. Otherwise, don't stay here."

She said, "I know I was wrong. I won't do it again. I told you because I felt bad about keeping it from you."

I said, "It's right that you told me. But no male dog likes his female dog being fucked by another male dog."

She said earnestly, "I know. I definitely won't do it again."

At this moment, she completely revealed the shy side of an unmarried girl, and she looked rather pitiful being handcuffed there.

But today I felt she was particularly evil. More evil than me.

I took the key and unlocked her handcuffs, saying, "Go wash up."

She lowered her arms, turned over, and mumbled an "Mmm," followed by soft snoring.

I pried open her vulva to examine it.

Her vulva was slippery. It was full of mucus. All kinds of mucus.

I inserted a sanitary tampon into her vulva.

She was still asleep, and the snoring had subsided.

I didn't draw the curtains.

In the moonlight, I stared at her for a long time.

What exactly is this vulva?

I stared at her.

After hearing about the security guard coercing and raping her, I felt jealous, I hated her, and I felt sorry for her.

Logically, I shouldn't have any feelings for her at all.

From the very beginning, we clicked instantly, we were incredibly compatible and relaxed in many ways, like long-lost relatives.

But slowly, slowly, I felt a thick fog enveloping me.

She could be incredibly innocent when she was innocent, and excessively seductive when she was seductive.

What had she been through in the past?

Which of her words were true?

I felt this woman was cunning and unpredictable. Like a little imp, like some kind of spirit, I felt I couldn't quite control her.

I suddenly had a feeling that all the family history she told me was fabricated, maybe she was just telling me stories.

Or maybe she was sometimes possessed?

The hairs on the back of my head stood on end.

I couldn't understand her.

She had already moved into my apartment, and I knew nothing about her past.

No one could verify what she said was true.

Maybe she ran away from an arranged marriage and came here?

Or maybe I'd stumbled upon a new generation of beautiful female writers who came to my place to experience life?

If none of those apply, then she must have some kind of illness—a combination of paranoia, delusions of persecution, and obscenity.

Or perhaps she's been promiscuous for years, already infected with AIDS, and this is her final act of madness with me?

I should have taken her to a medical center for a comprehensive checkup before our passionate encounter.

Now it's too late; I'll just have to leave it to fate.

Thinking about it, I shudder.

Come to think of it, I haven't really opened up to her either. Do I even suspect she knows 3% about me?

I've become even more guarded.

We're so afraid of being seen through.

Why do we have to "figure her out"?

She's just a country bumpkin. Uneducated.

You've taken her virginity and done all that, and you're still so suspicious of her? That's not right.

Those who doubt don't sleep with you; those who sleep with you don't doubt you.

Since I've already slept with her, I'll accept it

. She should be placed on probation. If that doesn't work, I can kick her out later.

Now, sitting in front of my computer reflecting on that night's decision, I realize I made a serious mistake of sentimentality.

Sentimentality has serious consequences.

The price is extremely high.

My ex-wife wants me to go to her place. She rented a two-bedroom apartment.

I was holding it in on the way there, so as soon as I got in, I told her I needed to pee and rushed to the bathroom.

Inside, I suddenly saw a woman I'd never seen before, wearing only a white shirt, barefoot and with her buttocks exposed, squatting on the toilet bowl, her buttocks facing me and her face against the wall.

I could clearly see her anus.

A piece of poop was sticking out, slowly wriggling out.

I noticed her legs were delicate and narrow.

A faint fragrance wafted around her, melancholic yet beautiful.

I boldly walked over, unbuttoned her white shirt, and breathed into her ear, saying, "You're so beautiful."

Her hair was long. I couldn't see her face clearly.

I touched her breasts. Milky white and soft, they felt wonderful.

She groped for my penis. I felt her fingers were slightly cool, gently touching the base of my penis and testicles.

With a plop, the poop went into the water.

She whispered in my ear, "Touch my anus..."

I gently touched her anus. Loose, soft, with a little poop on it.

My penis was hard in her hand.

She said in a daze, "Fuck me...fuck me there..."

I kissed her cheek, but ended up with a mouthful of her long hair.

Just as my penis entered her rectum, I felt another lump of shit pressing against it.

Like another man's penis pressing against it. That lump of shit was stubborn, trying to come out, like a car going the wrong way in a one-way street.

I didn't back down, forcefully fucking that lump of shit.

I felt someone enter the bathroom and touch my testicles from behind.

I thought it was my ex-wife, but when I turned around, it was a docile female dog licking my testicles.

My manhood throbbed, and I jerked my eyes open, realizing it was all a dream.

What does this dream mean?

Could it be that my ex-wife is now engaging in same-sex relationships?

I don't understand.

The little slut half-awake mumbled, "Don't touch my pussy..."

She reached down and touched herself, finding a tampon inserted. A little more awake, she said, "I'm not unlucky. What are you doing?"

I said, "You didn't get up to wash last night, otherwise, wouldn't it be all over the bed if I didn't put some in?"

We were both facing left, I kissed her cheeks and ears, my cock already erect, pressing against her butt crack.

If you looked at the ceiling, we were in an "SS" shape.

I rubbed her white, soft arms, soft belly, hard clitoris, and plump buttocks, while telling her a bad story.

I said: "One day, a big hooligan grabbed a woman and said, 'Hand me the rope, then you put your hands behind your back...'"

I felt her face getting really hot.

I said, "The woman handed the rope to the big hooligan, then put her hands behind her back..."

Her clitoris was already wet, the redness and swelling hadn't subsided, and it was incredibly hot.

I said, "At that moment, a young man suddenly came in, very energetic..."

She interrupted me, saying, "Hooligan, it's so tight inside. Can you take it out for a while?" "

I said fiercely, 'When the time comes, this scoundrel will make you take it out!'

She mumbled sleepily, 'Daddy, I want you...'

I asked coaxingly, 'What does this slutty daughter want from Daddy?'

She said softly, 'This slutty girl wants Daddy's big cock.'

I asked again, 'What for?'

A soft snore started again.

In the moonlight, I coldly examined the naked cunt in my arms."

My penis gradually drooped.

I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table; it was already 5 a.m.

What should I do? Continue playing around or cut ties completely?

After much thought, I decided on a middle ground (middle ground is a curse!): continue playing around, but don't develop feelings for her.

Having come up with an answer, I immediately drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, it was already 9 a.m.

I dragged her out of bed, and we took a bath together. Once we were all clean, I took her out to my mother's place.

On the way, I gave her a brief introduction, explaining that my mother had no arms and what kind of care she needed. As

soon as we entered, Ah Biao circled around her, sniffing her intensely.

My mother saw her, drank tea, and chatted, asking about her hometown and family situation. She thought she was alright and had her cook a meal.

The food was passable, but a bit too salty.

While she was washing the dishes, I asked my mom, "Mom, do you think this caregiver is suitable?"

My mom hesitated, "She's so young, I don't know if she'd be willing..."

On the way back to the apartment, I said, "Fifty a day, fifteen hundred a month. If you don't earn this money, I'll find someone else immediately."

She thought for a moment and said, "You want to tie me down?"

I said, "Tie you down?! Nonsense! I'll pay you every day. You can leave anytime."

She asked, "Hmm."

I pointed at her, "With money, you can go anywhere with a clear conscience, and you won't have to steal anymore."

She blushed and said, "Okay. I'll try. So where will I live from now on?"

I said, "You'll still live with me."

She grinned mischievously, "You just can't bear to part with me, right?"

I said, "Pah! How could I be so cheap?!"

After saying that, I heard a voice in my brain say: You really are that cheap.

I added, "If my mom really likes you, we'll discuss it later."

We passed a shopping mall, and I took her inside. Just browsing. We didn't plan to buy anything.

The mall was packed with people, everyone seemed to be giving things away for free.

I held her as we walked through the crowd, whispering in her ear, "Transparent women's clothing is all the rage in Japan now. I'll buy you a set later."

She asked, "Why?"

I said, "So everyone can see your cunt with that white rope dangling from it." I

could tell from her eyes that she was starting to fantasize.

I pulled her into a transparent elevator and closed the door.

I pressed the button. The elevator began to slowly ascend.

Through the elevator's floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see the bustling crowd in the lobby.

Suddenly, I pressed the malfunction button.

The elevator slammed shut halfway.

She exclaimed, "What happened? Is the elevator broken?"

I calmly slipped my hand inside her pants and touched her.

She panicked, "No! There are so many people outside, they can all see."

I pulled out a tampon that had been soaking for half a day and night from her vulva and held it up to examine it.

The tampon in her vulva was now round and swollen, soaked with my semen and her secretions, smelling foul and sour.

The alarm blared, startling everyone.

Thousands of customers looked up at the sound, staring at our malfunctioning elevator with its flashing red light.

Seeing someone else suffer such embarrassment seemed more exciting than the shopping frenzy.

We were like goldfish in a fishbowl, being watched at will.

I shoved the bulging tampon into her mouth, and then masturbated her again inside her pants.

The customers below pointed and whispered amongst themselves.

She struggled, but her body responded.

Her vagina was becoming aroused, the secretions rapidly gathering.

I pressed her face against the glass, violently raping and publicly humiliating her.

As I masturbated her, I said, "You slut! Security's coming right now!"

She sucked on the tampon soaked in her bodily fluids, moaning indistinctly, "Oh...oh...oh..."

My fingers, masturbating her vagina, suddenly felt a powerful vacuum contraction.

She remained silent on the way home, looking deeply saddened.

Back home, she undressed, got into bed, and curled up under the covers without a word.

I asked, "You had a really intense orgasm in the elevator just now."

She nodded slightly.

I said, "You like perverts, you like being watched by strangers, right?"

She nodded, then suddenly burst into tears of humiliation and helplessness.

She said, "I know I'm a slut. But I can't change..."

I said, "Good people don't live long. Sluts live a thousand years."

She said, "I thought you were a good person! Please stop torturing me!"

I said, "Deep down, I'm a slut worse than a slut. My outward appearance and my inner self are two different things. Aren't you the same?!"

I spread her thighs and slowly rubbed her clitoris.

Her eyes flickered uncertainly as she asked me, "Do you still want to fuck me in the future?"

I said, "Of course. You little slut. The more slutty you are, the more I want to fuck you." As I

spoke, my fingers felt her vulva begin to wet again.

She said, "I think I'm about to get my period. I'm not usually like this."

I said, "I understand. Women are emotional creatures."

She said, "You make me feel like a fool, willingly letting you do what you want."

I whispered in her ear, "I love how cheap you are."

She said, "You make me happy, you make me go crazy. You're a devil."

I suddenly threw off the covers.

Under the electric light, her naked body was on full display, pale and dazzling.

I said, "Don't look out the window. There are three male aliens watching us outside."

She didn't care whether it was real or not, and immediately got into character.

She asked, "Oh... are their dicks big?"

I said, "Yes. They're all sticking up and drooling as they greet you."

She asked me (teasing the voyeur in her mind), "Want to fuck me? I want you to fuck me... right now..."

I asked, "Let them watch?"

She nodded, "Yes, that's right."

My dick got hard.

The boat reached the bridgehead and entered the archway.

The archway was hot and slippery. Soaking.

I felt like I was being gripped by a ghost, my cock throbbing even harder.

After entering her, I didn't rush to thrust.

I pressed my cock against her cervix, my fingers continuing to tease her clitoris.

I said, "They're watching you get fucked while they masturbate."

Her hands involuntarily touched her breasts. Her nipples were hard and erect.

I said, "They're masturbating really hard. Oh my! Third Brother's cock is so long! Isn't that a rolling pin?"

She trembled, closed her eyes, and let her imagination run wild.

I thrust faster and faster.

Her two fleshy legs wrapped around my lower back from behind.

Two trembling autumn insects, as if their death was imminent, knowing their days were numbered, mate brilliantly.

After less than ten thrusts, her hot cunt began to contract nervously.

The imagined voyeur brought her to orgasm

prematurely. For me, a great battle had only just begun.

Her breasts swayed from side to side as I fucked her.

The light was too bright.

I turned off the light and bravely battled this slutty cunt beneath me.

Sweat, mixed with dust, swirled in the room.

The dust settled.

I held her, touching her bare legs.

She said, "It feels good to be able to act cute in front of you. I like this feeling."

I said, "Mmm..."

She said, "Fucking makes me feel good and safe."

I said, "Yes..."

She said, "I like excitement."

I responded, "Me too..."

She said, "I can't stand doing the same thing every day."

I could barely keep my eyes open. She was quite resilient.

She said, "You know what? I'd rather get fucked than sell fruit. I won't learn to type."

I said, "Hmm...we won't sell fruit..."

She said, "Then I'll be taking care of our mom all day, how boring is that?"

I forced myself to stay awake, repeatedly pondering the words "our mom" she had just said.

A girl calling my mom "our mom" indicates a change in closeness.

This kind of crucial change of address usually happens after engagement.

Has she really tried to integrate into my family life?

Am I overthinking things?

Can I really trust her?

If she's being sincere, that's for the best.

Transference is also normal. She doesn't have a mom.

The next morning, I slapped her and then pulled her awake.

She rubbed her sleepy eyes, still fast asleep: "What are you doing?!"

I said, "Caregiver, wake up!"

She woke up a little, realizing she had to take care of a disabled old lady.

She casually said, "You're so annoying!"

She turned over, curled up in the blanket, and went back to sleep.

I tickled her feet.

She kicked me and said, "Ugh, annoying! I'm not going!"

*Smack!* My heart plummeted from the microwave to an ice cellar.

(5654 words in this episode ,

to be continued ...) Episode

9: Dry and Cold .

Key points: same-age SM games, heterosexual masturbation, blowjob, anal licking, anal sex, foreign object insertion.

If you like it, please continue reading.

If you can't accept it, exit immediately!

No one is forcing you to read.

I'm warning you!

Episode 9 begins:

I tickled her feet.

She kicked me and said, "Ugh, I hate it! I'm not going!"

My heart plummeted from the microwave to an ice cellar.

I opened the balcony door, stood on the balcony smoking, looking at the distant horizon.

The sky was clear. Just dry and cold.

The wind was howling.

I crushed my cigarette butt and threw it outside on the balcony.

The cigarette butt and tobacco went straight upstairs with the wind.

I was annoyed.

It seems this bitch only came to the city to enjoy life.

Just as I was feeling annoyed, I suddenly felt a pair of warm, soft hands wrap around my waist.

Warm lips pressed against my earlobe.

We walked side by side in the snow. Our feet crunched through the thick, dry snow.

Her face was rosy and radiant.

I lit a cigarette, and she took a puff.

The unspoken understanding was heartwarming.

I put my arm around her and looked down; our steps were perfectly synchronized.

I stepped with my left foot, and she stepped with her left.

I stepped with my right, and she stepped with her right.

It wasn't intentional. Neither of us deliberately timed it. It was just perfect synchronization

. Before, when I walked with my ex-wife, she always seemed to be going against me. I'd step left, she'd step right. I'd step right, she'd step left. It was like she was doing it on purpose. I couldn't help it.

I secretly envied the couples in the streets and parks who walked in perfect unison.

Now I had my own synchronized "walking" partner.

But I kept reminding myself: she was my customer, my tenant, my caregiver.

I told her, "If you want to smoke at my mom's, go to the balcony."

She said, "Okay."

I coldly instructed her, "Don't make the food too salty."

She said, "Salty? I don't think it's salty."

I clearly stated, "Remember, I'm not cooking for you. I'm cooking for my mom. You listen to whoever pays you."

She said, "Oh, okay."

When we arrived at my mom's, she looked haggard after not seeing me all night.

I first turned on the electric heater and told her not to be stingy with the electricity; people are more important than money.

I clearly told my mom that I would pay her every day (to avoid paying twice).

My mom absentmindedly agreed, clearly out of it. What was my mom thinking?

First, she showed my daughter around the house, introduced her to the various appliances, and emphasized safety first.

Then she put on an apron and started tidying up the house.

I said I had some errands to run and left.

First, I went to the company to deal with the stock issues, and then renewed next year's insurance.

I passed by the free market and bought a wooden mortar and pestle set, as well as a pound of garlic.

It's said that garlic minced with this thing is exceptionally fine, and the garlic juice is incredibly fragrant.

Then I contacted my ex-wife.

I said, "I dreamt about you the other day, and you didn't seem to be doing so well. I was quite worried about you."

She laughed and said, "If you miss me, just come.

Don't make excuses." She had already risen to a high-level position in her real estate company. Years of being a daughter-in-law had finally become a mother-in-law. She could leave without asking for leave.

She went to our usual spot to wait for me.

She must have waited for many people like this before…

The meeting place was behind a local tax building, a secret private club, gray bricks and gray roof, drab and unassuming, extremely private, and inconspicuous from the outside. Once

inside, it was like the Great Wall of China World Trade Center, extremely luxurious, with everything imaginable.

Just thinking about the high-end clientele of such places, it's not hard to guess how much money was spent on the renovations; it must have already recouped its costs.

Look at the grout in these tiles—it's all human oil! Built with the people's hard-earned money.

When we met, I noticed her hair was up in an updo; she was elegant, quiet, and fair-skinned—quite the mature, sophisticated type, the kind of alluring, strong woman.

I said, "You look great."

She replied, "Of course."

I said, "Shall I reveal your secret?"

She said, "A woman's beauty comes from 'doing' things. If you enjoy it, you'll be in a good mood, and you'll have a good appetite."

I asked, "Have you been with any women?"

She said, "Of course. Who dates men these days? In our circle, everyone's divorced, completely disillusioned with men."

I said, "I don't know about other things, but at least women are cleaner than men."

I took a cold shower, yelling as I rinsed.

The cold water from the showerhead made me flailing my arms and legs, like I was standing on a charcoal brazier.

Every time I saw her, I did this, feeling incredibly refreshed after a shower, and also showing off.

I came out to dry off, and she coldly said, "Be careful not to catch a cold. Age catches up with you."

I said, "Oh, you think I'm old?"

I pulled out the silver hairpin from her hair bun.

Her long hair fell silently.

Hmm, she looks a bit like a prostitute now.

I took off her woolen skirt, but left her underwear on.

I deliberately touched her vulva through her underwear.

The cleft of her underwear was slightly damp.

I remained calm and collected, lightly touching her labia three times, then her clitoris, deliberately rubbing it haphazardly, making her anxious, teasing her, and irritating her like a cricket being teased.

What is teasing? You have to provoke her. She's anxious, but you're not—that's the highest level.

I said, "You know, they later dug out a flight attendant from the World Trade Center ruins, her hands bound by electrical wires."

She said, "I want to try that feeling too..."

I like hearing the woman in my arms moan as she expresses her deepest desires. I pretended not to understand: "How?"

She said, "You can tie me up..."

I looked around; there really wasn't any rope.

She was wearing long stockings, but I don't like using stockings for binding.

Stockings are elastic, making them difficult to tie securely; once stretched, they become very thin, restricting blood flow and posing a risk.

My gaze fell on her small bag.

There was a delicate, clean nylon rope around the opening, of decent thickness and length.

I untied the knots at both ends of the rope, removed it, twisted her arms behind her back, and tied her wrists together.

She said, "Hmm... could you tighten it a little more..."

I tightened it three more times, making sure it was secure, and looked again. The rope had already dug into the flesh of her forearms and wrists.

She was completely absorbed in the feeling I was giving her, a mixture of awe and arousal.

I pulled her up to face the large mirror in front of the desk.

We both looked into the mirror.

The young woman in the mirror, bound and helpless, looked pitiful.

I whispered in her ear, "You should know that there are cameras behind mirrors in places like this..."

She nodded, "Yes."

I continued to flirt, "I just went to the security department, and the young man in charge of the surveillance cameras today is really handsome, only nineteen years old."

Through her silk blouse, I saw her pinkish-brown nipples slowly hardening.

I said, "Right now, he's watching you while pulling out his big cock."

I pulled open her blouse and pinched her nipples in front of the large mirror.

I kissed her cheeks while patiently tormenting her nipples.

I whispered in her ear, "Slut, your nipples have gotten bigger."

She moaned indistinctly, "Mmm...uh...fuck my cunt..." (Was she saying this to me? Or to the security guard?)

I said, "You shameless thing, acting like a slut in front of a young man..."

She breathed hot air and said, "Uh...I'm slutty..."

I said, "Look how aroused you are, my dick is about to burst."

I pulled down her stockings, lifted her right leg, and let her bare feet step on the desk in front of the mirror.

I covered my mouth and nose with the stockings and took a deep breath.

The faint scent of her feet intoxicated me.

I reached my hand from behind her buttocks to the front, pulled her panties to the left, and masturbated her cunt.

I rubbed her slippery cunt in front of my imaginary enemy in the mirror.

Her cunt released fluids in front of my imaginary enemy in the mirror.

She was excited and said to the mirror, "I'm aroused...I'm aroused...this little bitch is horny...touch me down there...yes..."

lewd. Slutty. Her wet pussy was like a plump, ripe peach.

I inserted my middle finger into her cleft and poked it back and forth.

She became excited, aroused.

I inserted two fingers and masturbated her.

She eagerly shook her hips, using them to find my fingers, as if it were unbearably itchy inside.

Seeing her being tormented by the flames of desire, she looked quite uncomfortable.

Out of pity, I quickened my pace, turning it into a frenzied masturbation.

My hand moved rapidly inside her flesh, like an evil little dagger.

The detonator was hissing and smoking. It looked like it was about to explode.

I said, "You shameless slut. You cheap cunt."

The slut nodded and groaned in response, acknowledging the title I had given her.

Her orgasm came suddenly, faster than expected, like a price increase.

She stood on tiptoe and desperately thrust her hips, convulsing intermittently, like a female prisoner seeing her executioner approaching and beginning a fierce protest.

In the climax, her face was contorted, her voice trembling and submissive.

She had just climaxed, and I slowly stuffed the stockings into her vagina, inch by inch, until they were completely inside, then slowly pulled them out.

The stockings, like a gnawing beast, greedily gnawed at her vaginal flesh, giving her a strange stimulation.

The pulled-out stockings were wet and slippery with her vaginal fluid.

I smelled them; they had a sour fragrance, and a hint of fishy saltiness.

I stuffed them back in.

She said, "Tell me Chen Huiqin's story again..."

I said, "That's so old-fashioned, I've told it a hundred times."

She said, "Tell it again..."

I said, "Why don't you improve?"

She said, "Ugh, so annoying... hurry up..."

I told her, this time incorporating some lesbian elements.

She listened, panting, trembling all over, as excited as a female dog about to be taken out for a walk.

Naked in front of the large mirror, facing potential voyeurs, she unrestrainedly climaxed.

The morality and dignity she had painstakingly built collapsed in an instant.

This time, her climax was steady and long, but irreversible, like a long-planned mudslide.

I knew she especially loved playing heroines, her mind filled with stories like "Zoya" and "Sister Jiang."

War, enemy spies, and interrogations left us with an endless legacy of BDSM fantasies, inexhaustible and permeating our very being.

Citizens of permanently neutral countries like Switzerland and Austria probably don't even come close to our fervor for BDSM.

Towards the end of my story, I pulled down her panties and directly touched her vulva.

Her naked vulva was already aroused, overflowing with fluid, covering my hand in it.

I frantically grabbed her breasts, twisting them hard, my penis rubbing against her labia.

Waves of pleasure washed over me.

I thrust inside, fucking her cunt.

I wantonly raped her, violating her wet, sticky vagina.

She writhed and rolled within the ropes, like a fish caught in a net.

As I fucked her, I pinched her cheeks, forcing her to look at the dazed young woman in the mirror.

I said, "Look... look at how slutty she is..."

She threw her head high, her long hair wild, moaning softly.

Because we were both standing, her uterus was slightly sagging, and each thrust hit her cervix.

Her vagina had been stretched open by my thrusting and pumping for a long time.

I pulled out my penis, her vagina still slightly open as it had been during the fucking, the deep secretions still slowly flowing out.

I took out the wooden mortar and pestle I had just bought and some garlic, peeled a head of garlic, and smashed it, juice splattering everywhere.

The pestle was covered in garlic paste and juice.

I thrust the wet, sticky pestle into her vagina, pounding into her cervix.

I used that pestle to fuck her hard.

The pestle pressed against her G-spot and cervix.

Garlic and garlic juice stimulated the delicate membranes of her vagina and cervix.

At that moment, she imagined herself as Chen Huiqin.

How boring sex would be without sadomasochistic elements! I could hardly imagine it.

Now she had been ravaged and tormented by me for an hour.

The exhaustion from multiple orgasms had left sweat beading on her forehead.

Her face was also damp with sweat.

A few strands of hair, sticking to her forehead and face with hot sweat, were messy, but sexy.

I've always loved watching fitness girls, and now I know why.

I untied her ropes and put her on the bed.

I took two sets of keys from her small bag.

I interlocked the two key rings and then used them to bind her big toes.

That way, her big toes were fixed in place.

Such a simple prop, yet it added so much fun!

I said, "Spread your cunt."

She lay on the bed, knees bent and spread apart, raising her "cuffed" feet to forcefully spread her labia for me.

Her vulva was shiny, with a lot of sticky fluid.

She pressed my hand onto her vulva.

I gently teased her urethra and clitoris, but again, I was "out of tune."

Her fingers circled back to her vaginal opening.

I could tell the slut still wanted more.

I said, "Fuck yourself. Do it yourself."

I held her. She masturbated intensely in my arms, her big toe struggling in the key ring.

I watched her delicate fingers rubbing, not satisfied, not relieving the itch, so I handed her the mallet.

She took the mallet and inserted it.

Her vulva was dilated, reddish-purple, her vulva full of filthy sticky fluid, emitting a female body odor and the smell of garlic.

All the clocks stopped ticking.

Time in the whole world froze.

Liquid glistened in her mouth, dripping from the corners of her lips.

Her lips were particularly beautiful. Fleshy.

I thought they were beautiful.

She grabbed my penis and guided it between her buttocks, letting the head of my penis touch her moist, sealed anus.

I said, "Lie down, spread your buttocks."

She complied, lying down and spreading her buttocks for me, revealing her anus.

I kissed her lips, my fingers tracing her anus, easily inserting them all the way in.

She moaned, clearly enjoying it, her face showing no discomfort.

I moved my fingers in and out of her anus.

She hummed softly, her buttocks trembling like a large lump of jelly.

I rotated my fingers and began to probe and dig inside her anus.

She kept her eyes tightly closed, letting me play with her.

I knelt in front of her, making her suck my penis.

My fingers continued to play with her anus.

After a few minutes, her anus, having adapted to my thrusts, gradually warmed up and became softer, not as tight as before.

I slowly withdrew my fingers, admiring her reflection in the mirror.

She was kneeling on the bed, her buttocks raised high towards the mirror, a classic doggy-style position.

Her buttocks, anus, and vagina were all clearly visible.

Her two big toes were still "cuffed" together with a key ring, which hindered blood flow, causing her big toes to turn slightly purple.

I went back behind her and licked her anus, intentionally letting more saliva flow from her anus. (Saliva can open a plug. I'm not kidding.)

She groaned.

I held her hips with both hands and forcefully spread her buttocks apart with my two thumbs, like splitting a grapefruit.

I raised my wet, large penis and pressed the hot glans against her anus.

My penis raged, easily penetrating her sphincter and thrusting into her tight, hot rectum.

She was soft and flexible, like a rag doll, completely at my mercy.

I gripped her pale buttocks and brutally ravaged her soft intestines with my penis, all the way to the root.

She panted.

Streams of vaginal fluid gushed out.

My penis could feel the rectal wall secreting mucus (the kind that helps with bowel movements and protects the intestinal wall).

I felt incredibly comfortable, my whole body light and airy, as if flying in the sky.

Her large buttocks trembled, like jelly encountering the Eight-Nation Alliance.

She said, "Fuck me harder...make me happy..."

I suddenly felt a surge of resentment towards her, resentment towards everything she had done to me.

Love and hate were intertwined, like fish and water.

I gripped her shoulders, pulled her hair, and fucked her harder and harder, becoming more and more beastly.

Her anus endured the relentless impact of the steel cock.

I felt her hand secretly reaching down to her vagina to masturbate.

Under the steel roller's ravaging, she moaned and groaned, reaching two orgasms.

The steel roller, having had its fill, pulled out before ejaculating (I'd had enough of her. I needed to conserve my ammunition).

The steel roller caused her anus to turn outwards.

After being vigorously penetrated, her anus became so soft and magical.

After this brutal fucking, her anal sphincter couldn't close for a moment, revealing a deep, dark red hole. I could see the dark red rectal wall inside and the white, sticky secretions clinging to it.

She remained there, panting.

Out of energy? Still not full?

I grabbed a dark blue liquor bottle from the side and shoved the bottle neck into her anus.

She was still high in the throes of arousal, humming as she asked, "You pervert... what are you doing?"

I whispered in her ear, "You pervert are shoving a bottle up your slut's ass."

She said, "You're a pervert..."

After living together for many years, I knew that when she called me "perverted," it meant she was praising me for being "imaginative" and "cute."

I said, "Do you know what gangsters do when they catch a runaway chicken?"

She was so excited she was almost dazed: "How?"

I said, "Stuff a glass bottle into her rotten cunt, then kick her in the stomach until the bottle shatters inside."

She groaned, imagining this unfortunate woman, suffering and tormented in the hands of gangsters, as if it were her.

I used the bottle to penetrate her anus while masturbating her wet, slippery cunt.

She screamed, reaching another orgasm.

To me, the sound was like an ambulance wailing through a busy city. The

orgasm was like a meteor shower streaking across the night sky, fleeting like a flash in the pan.

I pulled out the bottle and carefully examined her poor little anus.

It was slightly open, smooth, sticky, and pulsating, like the mouth of a live fish.

I bent down and licked her anus, then used my fingers to probe her soft cunt, slowly and deliberately licking and fucking her.

The ambulance drove away and then came back, drove away and then came back, circling and whistling in my ears.

The siren's wail rose and fell. I lost count of how many orgasms she had reached.

Who cares! The number isn't important.

I want her satisfied, I want to fuck her until she's swollen, I want her to be unsteady on her feet and needing to hold onto the wall to go downstairs for three days.

I focused on licking her, masturbating her, occasionally taking my big cock and thrusting it into her.

She moaned and convulsed as she reached her orgasm, surging to the peak…

Just as she was about to descend, I launched a fierce attack, pushing her up again.

Making love with her was always like this, lingering and endless. [“This endless lingering ache”?…—a8 note] Afterwards, she was truly exhausted, lying motionless on the bed.

When I asked her how she felt, she was too tired to speak.

I sat by the bed watching her, reflecting on the intense battle, feeling deeply unpredictable.

The strong woman who had her hair up at noon is now a limp mess after being fucked.

Some people think all women are exceptionally noble and worship "the tenderness deep within a woman's body," but that's bullshit.

Whether they're flirtatious, repressed, young married women, or students, they're all sluts at heart, all yearning for relentless, brutal fucking. I finished dressing and said I was leaving.

She said softly, "Just now... I was still quite excited. Wasn't that inappropriate?"

I asked, "Why not?"

She said, "We shouldn't do this anymore after the divorce."

I lovingly touched her wrist.

It was covered in red marks from the rope, a grotesque mix of evil.

I said, "Won't your girlfriends be jealous if they see this?"

She said, "Yes, they're doomed."

I asked, "Are you sure they're all clean?"

She said, "Yes."

I asked, "Do you just polish mirrors at your parties?"

She smiled and said, "Yeah, sometimes we do other things too."

I said, "If you ever have an itchy itch that you can't relieve yourself, introduce it to me, I'll scratch it for you, guaranteed to relieve the itch."

She said gently, "Did you take some kind of medication? You're so excited? Take it easy. Your health is important."

I said, "I'd rather have passion than live a long life."

She said, "Okay, I'll remember that..."

She yawned before she finished speaking.

I covered her with a blanket and said, "Take a nap."

She suddenly became very affectionate, looking at me with a sticky, languid gaze, like a female dog ovulating.

She said, "Don't leave me..."

I said, "I won't leave you. Sleep. Ah, sweetie. Sleep..."

She fell asleep quickly.

Before leaving, I looked back at her one last time. Her sleeping posture hadn't changed.

I quietly went out and closed the door.

Click, the lock slammed shut.

To be continued

06-01
10: The Temptation of the Aircraft Carrier

Key hints for this episode: incestuous enema, incestuous finger rape, abuse, sexual intercourse, popsicle game, urine enema.

If you like it, please continue reading.

If you can't accept it, exit immediately!

No one is forcing you to read.

I'm warning you!

Episode 10 begins

... My ex-wife became particularly amorous, looking at me with sticky, drooling eyes, like a female dog ovulating.

She said, "Don't leave me..."

I said, "I won't leave you. Sleep. Ah, good girl. Sleep..."

She fell asleep quickly.

Before leaving, I glanced back at her. Her sleeping posture hadn't changed.

I quietly went out and closed the door.

Click, the lock slammed shut.

I went back to my mother's place, where she was taking a nap in bed.

I asked my little slut to come and change into her outdoor shoes, intending to take her to a nice nearby market, when suddenly I heard some faint sounds, soft, crackling and popping, both familiar and strange.

Looking towards the sound, I saw my mother turn over in bed, helplessly whispering to me, "Mom pooped in her pants again."

I gave Xiao Sao Sao some loose change and told her to buy groceries, instructing her to keep track of the expenses.

Xiao Sao Sao put on her cotton coat at the door, glanced back at me out of the corner of her eye, closed the door, and left.

I walked to my mother's bedside, reached into her pants, and felt a handful of runny feces.

Almost simultaneously, I smelled a pungent odor of feces.

I strongly suspected she had deliberately pooped in her pants today.

I found a caregiver to look after her; she probably felt her son was trying to escape the aircraft carrier.

She wanted to find a way to get her son close to her, to get his attention on her body, to get his attention on her genitals.

Diarrhea can be deliberately instigated; one can intentionally drink more water, let their stomach get cold, or something like that.

I rubbed my mother's sticky vulva, masturbating her anus with the feces in my hands.

I whispered in my mother's ear, "Look at this girl, she's soiled her pants again."

My mother reacted strongly, groaning, her bald upper body twisting restlessly.

I inserted two fingers into my mother's anus, thrusting in and out of her sticky rectum, finger-fucking her soiled anus.

My mother struggled to breathe, like a critically ill patient on a ventilator.

I whispered, "This loose stool isn't completely finished yet."

My mother murmured softly, "Ugh..."

I said, "Let the doctor give her a proper checkup..."

I massaged my mother's clitoris and vagina with my right thumb, while my index and middle fingers vigorously penetrated her anus.

My mother's breathing rate increased rapidly.

I whispered in my mother's ear, "Look at this rotten cunt and rotten anus, she's soiled the bed again. The doctor will spank her."

As I spoke, I slapped my mother's buttocks with my left hand.

Her buttocks trembled horizontally, like a large lump of tender white tofu.

My two short sentences had barely begun to set the stage for my fantasy of her being hospitalized when she closed her eyes, already slipping into the scene, immersing herself in it like a parched peasant woman eager to soak in a large tub of warm bathwater.

This scenario overturned our mother-son relationship, but it thrilled her.

Her breathing rate reached its peak, she spasmed, held her breath, pointed her toes, and climaxed.

Watching my mother being fucked to orgasm in my arms, smelling her sour odor, my adrenaline surged fiercely within me.

In my pants, my penis was hard as a steel bar, fifty millimeters in diameter.

I'd been holding back for a long time. But I wanted to hold it in a little longer.

A man should have a sense of responsibility.

I held her, watching the tide up close, admiring this middle-aged disabled woman convulsing and spasming at the crest of the wave.

Seeing her energy slowly recover, I asked, "Mom, want to wash down there?"

Mom said, "Um... give Mom an enema. I want to wash inside..."

I said, "No problem. Rinse first, then give the enema."

My hand reached the edge of the elastic band of her underwear.

She knew what I was going to do and obediently lifted her buttocks.

I pulled down her dirty underwear and saw that the inside was covered with a brownish, paste-like excrement, mixed with some small solid pieces, looking like semi-solidified concrete.

Her vulva, anus, and inner thighs were all covered in feces.

I took off her shirt, helped her into the bathroom, and held the shower head upside down to spray her vulva.

I used the shower head to clean her vulva and then gave her an enema.

I saw that her vulva was aroused, dripping with sticky fluid, like the juice flowing out of a ripe arugula.

Her labia were long, damp, and drooping, a pale purple like lavender.

After the enema, I rubbed her swollen belly.

She looked at me with a strange look in her eyes, like someone seeing someone off at a train station, the bugle call had sounded and the troops were about to depart, with a belly full of things to say but no time to say them.

I understood what she was thinking and comforted her, "Okay, Mom, I'll still come to see you every day from now on."

She seemed to already see the train pulling away from the platform.

I continued, "If you're not satisfied with this caregiver, just tell me. If it doesn't work, we'll fire her and find another one."

I looked at my mother. She still seemed hesitant.

I applied some bath gel to her vagina and gently rubbed it, my middle finger slipping into her sticky, slippery vaginal opening.

I asked, "Mom, can you hold it in a little longer? The book says after the enema..."

She suddenly interrupted me, lifted one of her fleshy legs and placed it on the toilet, saying to me, "Come..."

I looked at the naked vagina in front of me, the vagina I had shaved, given an enema, was dripping wet, the vagina that gave me life and nurtured me.

My erection stirred again, restless.

I took off my clothes, grabbed her buttocks, and thrust my erection directly into her wet vaginal opening.

I teased her, "Where? What for?"

She whispered like a guilty schoolchild, "To insert into my vagina..."

Hearing these words from my mother's mouth deeply aroused me.

Mom was still encouraging me, saying, "Come fuck this cunt, fuck Mom's cunt hard..."

No more encouragement was needed. The rebar plunged in.

Mom seemed eager to release her tension today, as if her son was gone forever.

The rebar churned wildly, creating waves

of fury. I could hear the gurgling of water in her stomach.

Mom endured the large amount of warm water in her rectum as she was fucked. Suddenly she said, "Get me dirty...get Mom dirty!"

I looked at her.

Her breathing was rapid, her eyes blinking.

*Splat!* I put the dirty underwear from the sink over her head, the thickest, most concentrated part of the excrement facing her mouth and nose.

Seeing my own mother wearing a strange mask, I felt a distant rumble of thunder.

As I fucked her, I said, "Mom, you filthy, rotten cunt, I'll fuck you to death!"

Mom shamelessly panted loudly inside the strange mask.

I held her, supporting her. She rested her head on my shoulder, sticking out her tongue to lick my face, a complete bitch!

My old bitch and I stood barefoot on the bathroom tiles, fucking her hard with a series of slurping sounds.

I could feel my soles were sweating slightly.

I put my right hand behind her back, my middle finger

pressing against her slippery anus. Her anus was taut. I fucked her hard while simultaneously pushing my finger into her anus.

Suddenly, Mom looked up and screamed in her dirty underwear.

I felt her vagina contracting strongly.

I was about to lose control, so I quickly thought of other things: beggars, police cars, city management officers, tax collectors…

I didn't want to ejaculate. These past two days, I've been playing with holding back my ejaculation, using it to nourish my brain.

I gritted my teeth, stomped my feet, and pondered Chinese football, and surprisingly, I managed to suppress the ejaculation reflex.

Just as I suppressed it, my finger, inserted into her anus, felt an unprecedentedly strong clamping force.

My mom trembled all over, bursting into tears in her dirty underwear.

I knew the pressure on her rectum had exceeded the sphincter's preservation threshold.

I withdrew my finger from her anus. Sticky secretions, with a few bits of residue, clung to her fingers.

This time, Mom finally relieved herself standing up (she didn't even have time to sit on the toilet).

The warm water that had been poured in carried away the excrement, which was all expelled, dark brown, staining my body and the bathroom tiles.

The smell was pungent, overwhelming.

With the clumps all gone, Mom felt completely relieved. I heard Mom let out a long sigh from her dirty underwear.

I removed the dirty underwear from her head.

She looked at the mess on the floor and muttered to herself, "Oh dear, what to do? It's all over the floor..."

Then she expelled another stream of very black excrement.

I calmly said, "After a shower, the floor will be clean, saving water."

I turned on the shower, removed the showerhead, and thoroughly rinsed her body, starting with her hair and face. I continued

until her anus and toes were clean.

The excrement on the floor tiles was flushed into the drain by the shower water.

For the larger pieces that couldn't be flushed away, I bent down and picked them up to throw in the trash can.

My mother whispered, "Son, you're such a pervert... You're so good to your mother..."

After the bath, we were both refreshed.

I dried her off and took out the hairdryer to dry her hair.

Like a concubine emerging from her bath, she was weak and languid, her face flushed, looking at me with unusually peaceful eyes.

I touched her body, her vulva, her urethra.

Years of catheterization had turned her urethra into a small, gaping opening, much softer and more sensitive than other women's.

To me, my mother had an extra "vulva" compared to other women.

I inserted my index finger into her soft, slippery urethra.

Her body curled up, trembling, moaning softly like a wounded armadillo.

My middle and ring fingers entered her vagina.

So, with one hand I dried her hair, while with the other I violated both her urethra and vagina.

My mother hummed a mournful song, leaning against the radiator, enjoying a pleasure most mothers couldn't experience.

I vigorously trembled my fingers for ten seconds, then held them still for five, like a demon, evilly controlling my mother's body.

Under this demonic torment, my mother reached another climax, her face flushed and sweet, like she was drunk.

During her climax, my fingers lingered.

When the tide subsided, I withdrew my fingers from her vagina and urethra, showing them to her.

Sticky secretions clung to my fingers, frothy, glistening under the light.

I made her lick them clean, one by one.

I coldly examined her round breasts.

My mother's breasts were like the large, sagging, soft mounds of cattle, the nipples swollen.

After my fingers were licked clean, I used my clean fingertips to poke her navel.

My mother's navel was very deep, particularly loose, and oval-shaped.

She moaned beautifully, as if her vagina was being penetrated.

I changed her into a clean pair of underwear, then dressed her in a clean, soft thermal outfit.

I washed the dirty underwear in the warm bathwater at the sink.

My armless mother stood leaning against the doorframe, watching.

Clang, clang! The key was clumsily turning in the lock.

Little Sao Sao returned from grocery shopping.

My mother said softly, "So fast? From now on, let her go to the market at Triangle Land." [Place name is fictional - note a8] That's ruthless! That market at Triangle Land is two stops away.

In the heavy snow, she had someone carry potatoes, cabbages, and onions all the way back.

My mother said to Little Sao Sao, "Is it cold outside?"

Little Sao Sao warmed her hands and said, "It's freezing!"

I said to Little Sao Sao, "Take a break. Wash the radishes and cabbages."

Suddenly, I had a burst of enthusiasm and said to my mother, "Mom, we won't go back tonight, we'll stay with you."

My mother looked at me, her face still flushed.

I knew what she was planning.

She was thinking about where to stay tonight? Where would everyone sleep...

Actually, my mother was overthinking it. Nobody's going to sleep tonight!

Dinner was made by Little Sassy. Still too salty. Completely frozen. Just have to be patient.

I wasn't hungry, so I didn't eat much dinner, just ten cans of beer with the side dishes.

After everyone finished eating, Little Sassy put the table away and washed the dishes. I peeled an apple for Mom.

After peeling and cutting it into small pieces, Mom refused to eat it. I don't know what's wrong with her. So many things are going against me today.

I casually picked up a grapefruit next to the sofa, peeled it, cut it into small pieces, and fed it to Mom.

Mom reluctantly ate one slice, then resolutely refused to eat any more, saying her stomach was upset and she might be in trouble.

Little Sassy finished washing the dishes and her hands, then came over and stood next to the sofa.

I told Little Sassy to take off her pants and bend over on the sofa next to me.

Her face turned bright red; she looked at me, then at my mom, and finally did as she was told.

While watching the news with Mom, I rubbed Little Sassy's clitoris.

Her clitoris gradually swelled and hardened. Her vaginal fluid had already soaked her clitoris.

At 7:29, the international news finally came on TV, but my eyes and ears were filled with all sorts of disasters.

An explosion here. A collapse there. Just three sentences in, and it was 7:30. Commercial break.

I got up, took an ice pop from the freezer, and stuck it into my little slut's pussy.

The ice pop went almost all the way in, melting rapidly in the hot pussy, juices gushing out.

She twisted her buttocks uncomfortably.

I pulled the ice pop out and stuck it into her anus. She groaned softly.

My bladder started to feel hard.

Mom asked me, "Is this girl constipated?"

My little slut replied, "Yes."

I said, "Mom, shall I give you another one?"

Mom said, "No. It's too much trouble."

I said to Mom, "Then shall I give her one first?"

Mom said, "Whatever. Don't block my view of the weather forecast."

The idea of having sex with my little slut in front of Mom made my dick hard.

I got up, took off my long underwear, pulled out the ice pop, and thrust my hot dick into my little slut's slippery anus. She groaned.

Her anus felt a little loose from the ice. I started idly ringing the bell.

The little slut's face was facing the TV. My face was facing the TV. My mother's face was facing the TV.

All three of them were watching TV. The screen was filled with commercials, one after another. Flashing. Annoying.

I fucked her hard fifty times, then slowly fifty times, and stopped to relax my urethral sphincter.

The weather forecast finally came.

With the familiar music, my urethra began to relax. Hot urine flowed into the little slut's rectum.

To be continued...

11: That Golf Ball

Key hints for this episode: Toy insertion, incest, abuse, enema, defecation, incestuous warmth.

If you like it, please continue reading.

If you can't accept it, exit immediately!

No one is forcing you to read.

I'm warning you!

Episode 11 begins

... All three of them were watching TV. The screen was filled with commercials, one after another. Flashing. Annoying.

I thrust hard fifty times, then slowly fifty times, then stopped and started relaxing my urethral sphincter.

The weather forecast finally arrived.

With the familiar music playing, my urethra began to relax. Hot urine flowed into my little cunt's rectum.

Finished urinating, felt good. Actually, humans are just animals. Don't think you're so great.

After satisfying their hunger, the male just sits there figuring out how to release/expel some bodily fluids, while the female just thinks about how to be fucked, and what kind of thing to be fucked. I felt good, but my little cunt was uncomfortable.

My partner said, "Ten cans of beer don't metabolize much."

A8 said: "Yes, you're just talking without understanding the pain. Try it on your backside!"

I stepped back, casually grabbed a golf ball from the coffee table, and shoved it up her anus, saying, "Make a fruit salad for the old lady."

She put the small pieces of apple and grapefruit I had chopped into a large glass salad bowl, then patiently peeled an orange, tore it into pieces, added it to the inner bowl, scooped out a few spoonfuls of salad dressing, stirred it well, and respectfully placed it on the coffee table in front of my mother.

Her buttocks kept wriggling restlessly. Her thighs were tightly pressed together. Looking at her face, beads of sweat had rolled down to her ears.

It was clear she was in considerable discomfort.

I said, "Oh my god?! Hey! Wait for me to do it?!"

She quickly picked up a spoon and scooped salad to feed my mother.

My mother said to me, "Let her go squat for a while."

I asked the little slut, "Do you want to?"

The little slut nodded and said, "Yes."

Her facial expression was quite dangerous. Her face was trembling.

I asked, "What are you thinking about?"

The little rascal said, "I need to go to the toilet."

I, like a perverted man in a Japanese erotic novel, pressed, "What do you need to go to the toilet for?"

The little rascal whispered, "To poop... to poop..."

My mother said to me, "Don't make things difficult for him."

I said, "Oh, what bad luck. My mom's toilet is broken today, it's unusable."

The little rascal panicked as soon as she heard that: "I really can't hold it in!"

I said, "You figure it out yourself. Anyway, the toilet is clogged. Go check it yourself."

The little rascal actually believed me, didn't go to the toilet, but was so anxious that she paced around in circles.

My mother was sitting on the sofa to my right, stretched out her bare left foot to nudge my right hand, and looked at me, the meaning being, don't make things difficult for him anymore.

I picked up the salad bowl and calmly fed my mother some salad.

The little rascal was about to cry, muttering to herself, "What's wrong with city people?!"

My mother said to me seriously, "Hurry up! He's really uncomfortable..."

I looked at my mother innocently, with a kind and honest face.

I said, "It's really clogged. If she poops there, nobody's going to sleep tonight."

Mom couldn't understand: "The inner drain was still..."

I shoved a huge spoonful of salad into Mom's mouth as she was speaking. Mom finally fell silent.

Sigh. That's why she's so naive.

For specific needs, even if there's nothing to do, she can find something to do. A malfunction is easy to fix, right? If you make it there, it will be there; if you don't, it will be there anyway.

I whispered in Little Sao Sao's ear, "I have a family secret for treating hemorrhoids. Lie face down on this carpet, raise your butt, and lie there for twenty minutes. It's called a retention enema."

Little Sao Sao obediently lay face down on the carpet, her bare butt sticking up high towards me.

I put my left foot on her shoulder, admiring her butt while feeding my mom salad.

Little Sao Sao's butt was white, her anus a light ochre, and she had reached her limit with that golf ball, "This is unbearable."

I could hear the gurgling of water in her intestines. She writhed and strained, her thigh muscles trembling.

I saw her anus begin to contract rhythmically, two small hemorrhoids bulging and retracting—quite amusing.

I ignored her, continuing to step on her and feeding her salad with a spoon.

Suddenly, "Bang!"—the golf ball shot out of her little slut's anus.

I looked up at the sound. In a flash,

I saw my mother's head had been "shot." My mother's body immediately slumped onto the sofa like a limp noodle.

Had my mother really left me?!

The white golf ball inside spun behind the sofa, now brown. My mother lay unconscious on the sofa.

The continuous hissing sound of excretion still echoed around me.

The little slut hadn't finished spitting out, but she forced herself to clench her anus to stop the flow, and scrambled to her feet, saying in a panic, "...I didn't...I didn't mean to..."

I didn't have time to pay attention to her. I put the large glass salad bowl on the carpet and rushed over to pinch my mother

's philtrum. No response. I swung my hand and slapped my mother hard across the face. My mother finally managed to take a breath, very hard, a labored breath. She immediately closed her eyes again.

Her vision blurred. I wiped it away; it was tears. I held my armless mother tightly, slapping her face like a madwoman, screaming hysterically, "Don't die! Don't die..."

My mother didn't respond. I shook my armless mother violently, kissing her face, saying neurotically, "Don't die! Don't die..."

I pinched her neck to check her pulse. Thank goodness. Her pulse was beating. I started slapping my mother hard across the face!

I wanted to slap her awake (I was also venting my rage).

My hands were numb from slapping, and my mother's cheeks regained some color. My mother finally stirred. I stopped.

Mom opened her eyes, but her gaze was unfocused, unsure of where to focus.

Little Sao Sao was still kneeling beside me, helping me take care of Mom. Suddenly, a series of hot, thunderous farts erupted from beneath her bottom.

Immediately afterward, a stenchy waterfall roared onto the carpet. Dark brown fecal matter mixed with clumps of excrement flowed wildly, covering the salad bowl.

Mom was still dazed and confused. I was carefully examining the salad bowl.

I thought I was tough enough; I'd seen what was inside the large intestine before.

But when I looked down at the half-full bowl of excrement and urine in the large glass salad bowl, I suddenly vomited, even bringing up bile.

Little Sao Sao also vomited. We were both speechless, vomiting until our heads were spinning. Good! Completely detoxified.

Suddenly, Little Sao Sao cried. She was uncontrollably defecating, uncontrollably vomiting, and uncontrollably sobbing, tears and snot bubbles streaming down her face.

She almost caused a disaster. What was she crying about? Humiliation? Despair over her boyfriend? The relief after narrowly escaping death?

Listen closely, the crying sounded like laughter. Perhaps she was using tears to mask an inappropriate laugh.

This family is hilarious.

This world is hilarious.

Hilarious is the trajectory of a golf ball.

Hilarious is the chaotic love affair.

I won't go into the details of cleaning the living room here. Later, the three of us stood naked under the bathroom shower, washing each other, scrubbing each other vigorously.

While washing, the three of us burst into another fit of manic laughter, laughing and crying at the same time.

The three of us were terminally ill patients who knew their days were numbered, lovers at the end of their rope when they saw police cars blocking the way.

As I laughed, I looked at the two women beside me and suddenly realized that women's laughter is actually quite grotesque.

Grinning, showing gums, eyebrows and eyes squeezed together, the expression was quite painful, reminding me of hand-to-hand combat after a bayonet charge.

After making sure we were all clean, we dried ourselves off and went into my mother's bedroom. The room was eighteen square meters, with a double bed by the window.

The three of us squeezed onto it. I let my mother lie in the middle. Little Sao Sao and I stood on either side of her, like Wang Chao and Ma Han, protecting her.

Mom was trembling all over, her teeth chattering. She had just taken a shower and was cold outside.

Mom said, "I'm so glad you can stay with me all night. I know young people are all incredibly busy. I can't bear to be a burden like this."

I put my arm around Mom's bare shoulders and said, "Mom, don't feel bad. This is the last time I'll stay with you."

I felt Mom shudder when she heard this, and then she trembled even more violently.

Mom was quiet for a moment, then asked casually, "Next time you'll be keeping vigil for me at the funeral, right?"

I also hesitated. Actually, death wasn't a taboo topic between us, but talking about keeping vigil so directly was still uncomfortable.

Before I could think of an answer, Little Sao Sao raised her upper body and said, "Auntie, what my older brother means is that his jewelry business might be busy soon, he might be busy for a while, right, older brother?"

The little girl was kind enough. At least she had a good heart, even if she was just trying to smooth things over.

I mumbled, "Um... oh right..."

Hearing this, Mom turned around, looked at me with wide eyes, and asked, puzzled, "Jewelry?? What jewelry?"

I quickly replied, "Mom, I'm currently negotiating a jewelry deal..."

Mom warned me sternly, "Be careful! Don't do anything illegal!"

I said, "Oh, I know!"

Little Sao Sao, still innocently honest, said, "My older brother is the kind who doesn't make any money for half a year, but when he does, he lives off it for half a year. I'm so envious. I wish I could be like that someday."

Mom was completely confused and asked me, "What? You don't make any money for half a year?"

I quickly changed the subject, "Hey, don't listen to her nonsense. Oh, by the way! Mom, where's that big mattress you have here?"

Mom was still nagging, "Tell Mom the truth! What have you been up to lately?!"

I whispered to Mom, "I've been closing a big deal lately. What does she know?"

Mom said, "Are you still working at your XX International Company?"

I said, "Of course. I'm doing it part-time. Your son has nothing to do with money. Mom, where's that big mattress you have here?"

Mom said, "In the closet in the outer room."

I said, "You sleep in yours. It's too crowded with three people here."

Mom was still in high spirits.

I got up and said to Little Sao Sao, "Come on, let's get the big mattress."

Little Sao Sao got up with me and ran to the outer room.

I found the big mattress, made it up, and lay down with the little slut.

I pressed my thumb against her erect nipple. She tilted her head back and pressed her hot lips to mine.

She whispered, "Before, when I did it myself, I was afraid to put my fingers in. Sometimes it's so itchy inside, an unbearable itch, I want to go in and scratch it."

I said coldly, "Is your father so kind?"

She said, "He really has never gone in. Ugh! I'm bleeding, why don't you believe me?"

I thought to myself, "These days, even carrots can't be trusted, what can we believe in?"

She said, "You know what? I often imagine the pleasure of being raped, being raped by the man I like."

I took out my favorite steel baton and inserted it into her vagina. I thrust into her fiercely. She trembled weakly in my arms...

coaxed by the little slut. I lay next to her, wondering: This girl is sometimes silly, sometimes so worldly. What's her background? What kind of person is she?

Endless confusion swirled in my mind. I couldn't sleep. I simply got up and went barefoot into my mother's bedroom.

My mother lay on her double bed and said softly, "Can't sleep either? Come here, don't catch a cold."

I got into her bed, covered myself with the blanket, and instinctively hugged her in the covers.

The scent emanating from my mother's body and hair had an intoxicating effect. I immediately felt like I couldn't keep my eyes open. My mother

asked softly, "You really won't come to stay with me tonight anymore?"

I fought off my sleepiness and whispered, "Mom, I've been really busy lately!"

My mother asked softly, "You have another woman? It's okay, tell me."

I whispered, "Mom, I've really been busy lately!"

My mother said softly, "The more you say 'busy,' the more I understand."

I whispered, "No. Mom, you don't understand. I don't even understand myself. I've had a lot going on these past few days..."

My mother said softly, "Go ahead and do your thing. I won't hold you back."

Hearing those words, and remembering the "donating a body" incident, I tensed up.

I suddenly rolled over, grabbed my mother's hair tightly with my left hand, and forcefully covered her genitals with my right.

My mother suppressed a moan and began to instinctively offer her buttocks.

As I used my right middle and index fingers to penetrate her vagina, I said, "Mom, listen! You're not a burden to me! I hired a caregiver because I wanted to relax a bit."

Mom said, "Yes. Being too tense isn't good for anyone."

I whispered, "Yes. For the long term..."

Under the moonlight, looking at Mom, I suddenly felt an urge to kiss her.

I leaned forward, gripping her hair tightly while kissing her lips.

Mom's lips were warm and moist, slightly parted, revealing soft breaths. The sound was especially erotic in the midnight air.

I knew my penis was erect. I began to forcefully masturbate Mom's vagina. Mom's wet vagina made a "gurgling" sound. So obscene.

Mom trembled and shook all over, her wet vagina secreting copious amounts of fluid, while she bit her lip to endure her son's masturbation.

At the moment of climax, Mom opened her mouth wide and let out a suppressed, hoarse cry.

The cry was utterly desperate. I only heard a few whispers. But I could feel the power of that cry!

In that instant, the cry expressed a desire for more.

But I knew that what I could give my mother was actually beginning to shrink.

12: Mother's Menstruation

Key points for this episode: Mother-son incest, menstruation, intercourse during menstruation, abuse, urethra, uterus, masturbation, defecation, warmth.

If you like it, keep reading. If you're easily offended, press the back button.

I'm warning you! Don't finish watching and then say you can't handle it!

Episode 12:

The mother trembled and shook all over, her wet vagina secreting a lot of mucus, while she bit her lip and endured her son's hand-rape.

At the moment of climax, the mother opened her mouth wide and let out a suppressed, hoarse cry.

The cry was quite desperate. I only heard a few wisps. But I could feel the potential energy of that cry!

In that instant, the cry expressed a desire for more.

But I knew that what I could give my mother was actually beginning to shrink.

After my mother reached climax through masturbation, the tide gradually receded, and her breathing was far from calm.

My fingers slowly stopped the raping movements, feeling that this time the wet vagina secreted an unusually large amount of mucus.

I slowly pulled my finger out of her hot vagina, put it under my nose, and smelled a fleshy, slightly bitter odor, thick with the aftertaste of raw iron. I knew it was the smell of blood.

I put my finger under my mother's nose for her to smell. She immediately whispered, "I'm in trouble."

I put my finger in my mother's mouth and had her suck it clean, then turned on the bedside lamp, squinting as I got her some tissue to wipe her lower area. There was quite a bit of blood.

I found a menstrual pad and sanitary napkin from the bedside table and put them on her.

My mother whispered, "Okay, turn off the light quickly."

I turned off the light. The bedroom immediately became much darker.

My mother asked softly, "Was I not loud enough? That girl couldn't hear me, could

she?" I said, "Who cares? I'll go down and warm your feet."

My mother's feet were always raised and moving, so they were always icy cold. In winter, they were especially cold.

I turned over and lay head to toe with my mother.

In the thick blankets, I held my mother's bare, cold feet. The skin on her feet was still relatively firm, without wrinkles or sagging.

I gently and continuously massaged my

mother's feet with my warm hands. I smelled a faint, sour odor emanating from them, yet I could also discern a subtle, slightly musky fragrance mixed within that pungent smell.

In truth, fragrance and stench are two sides of the same coin. What is fragrance, and what is stench? It's a matter of opinion.

Fragrance is stench. Stench is fragrance. Emptiness is form. Form is emptiness. Weren't the ancients wicked? A8 is even more wicked.

My mother sighed softly. I asked, "Why are you sighing?"

My mother whispered, "I'm so confused. Why do I like doing these things with you? I know it's wrong, but I can't help it..."

I blurted out, "What shouldn't be done isn't necessarily bad, and what's good isn't necessarily right. Who decides what's good and bad, right and wrong? You decide your own life."

My mother stopped talking. Maybe she was tired, or maybe she didn't know how to continue the conversation.

My mother's breathing gradually evened out, and after five minutes, it became deep, then she shuddered.

Years of experience sleeping with her told me that she had fallen into a deep sleep.

I wasn't sleepy yet, my eyes were bulging and shining.

I looked out the window. It was snowing heavily again outside. I didn't know when it had started. The snowflakes were falling leisurely, some as big as "business cards."

My partner said again, "What nonsense! Where are there snowflakes as big as business cards?"

There really were. The world is so big, there are all kinds of wonders. There's nothing "impossible" except what you haven't seen.

Thinking that the middle-aged woman I was sleeping with was menstruating, I got an erection. I've discovered that a woman's menstrual period always arouses me.

In the middle of the night, rubbing my mother's soft feet, I felt a surge of excitement.

My fingers traced her soft legs to her menstrual crotch, untied her sanitary pad, and inserted into her slippery, menstrual-flowing vagina.

Her menstrual vagina was warm and soft, filled with blood and mucus.

My mother, who had been asleep, was half-awake from my ministrations, groaning incoherently, "...um...husband...don't..."

Then she turned over and went back to sleep.

At that moment, I noticed a shadow at the bedroom door (my mother's bedroom door is never closed).

The little slut had finally arrived! I had already guessed she wouldn't sleep well tonight, and I could guess what her fingers were busy with.

Mother and son were being spied on. This further aroused me. I became excited, my heart pounding.

I turned on the bedside lamp again, deliberately letting the little slut see clearly.

Under the bright light, I suddenly threw back the covers and spread my mother's legs. My mother was about 60% awake, muttering discontentedly, "...Trying to kill your mother? Go to sleep!"

Mom loves boiled eggs. There are always boiled eggs at home.

I peeled an egg, stuck the tender white egg into her anus, then spread her legs and thrust my big, straight cock hard into her bloody cunt. It was incredibly hot inside.

I fucked her with my hard cock, shouting at her as I did so, "Bitch, I'm going to fuck you to death!"

My cock went in and out of her bloody cunt. My mother was about 90% awake, glanced at me quickly, immediately closed her eyes, and softly said, "No...son...it's bad luck..."

My mother didn't know that her shameful act was being spied on by a girl.

What did I care about good luck?! I was already an animal. So be an animal to the end!

I thrust hard into the slut beneath me. And this woman happened to be my mother.

As I fucked my mother, I yanked her hair hard, saying, "There was a female martyr who was interrogated, and clumps of her hair were pulled out..."

My mother was immersed in the scenario I had created, imagining herself as that martyr.

Under the dazzling light, my mother's eyes were tightly closed, her cheeks flushed, her lips half-open, letting out moans and hums.

To me, those hums were the most beautiful and moving wordless song in the world.

I thrust viciously into my mother's soft cervix. It is said that the cervix of a woman who is menstruating is soft and slightly open.

I searched desperately for my mother's cervix with the head of my penis, searching for the opening through which I came into this world.

Found it! Finally found it! My penis reached deep inside her vagina, feeling the head of my penis touch a soft, loose little mouth.

As I fucked, I said, "I'm fucking into your uterus! You slutty mother!"

My mother groaned and moaned.

I gripped my mother's buttocks and hips, torturing the martyr even more brutally.

I thrust into the martyr roughly. The martyr's breathing became more and more rapid.

I grabbed the female warrior's hair and pinched her cheeks, looking down at her and asking, "Are you about to climax, you slut? Tell me!"

The armless female warrior opened her mouth, nodded, and whispered, "Mmm! Mmm... Yes! Oh~~"

The female warrior's orgasm came with a bang.

As the saying goes, once you gain the upper hand, you advance step by step. I didn't let her off the hook, continuing to fuck her relentlessly, as if there was no tomorrow.

The female warrior moaned and sang in successive orgasms, her menstrual-blooded vagina contracting and trembling in waves.

I shot my hot semen hard into my mother's bloody vagina.

Most old guys would nag: you can't have sex during your period. You can't masturbate during your period, you can't do this or that during your period...

I was determined to overturn all "authorities." What you're not allowed to do, I'll do anyway!

Because the taboo gives me extra stimulation. Extra stimulation makes me harder, and I shoot higher and farther...

After I finished, my penis withdrew from my mother's bloody vagina.

My half-erect penis brought out a unique fishy smell from my mother's bloody vagina.

I clearly remember going to the market with my mother when I was little, and I was deeply impressed by the fishy smell. It felt so warm and fragrant.

Now, I dare to propose the world's first "A8 Hypothesis One": Men like the smell of fish and like to eat fish, but subconsciously they are actually seeking the unique fishy/fragrant smell of a woman's rotten vagina. (Ha~)

I waved to the bedroom door, gesturing for my little slut to come over. My little slut obediently came over, barefoot as well.

She walked to the bedside and slumped limply on the carpet in front of the bed. I could already guess why her legs were weak.

My mother fell asleep again, and after relaxing, she defecated the boiled egg from her anus.

I picked up the egg. The egg smelled bad, covered with a layer of brown mucus, and had a tomato skin curled into a thin stick stuck to it.

It seemed the tomato skin was indigestible.

I stuffed this egg with poop into my little slut's mouth. My little slut looked at me and began to chew.

My hand went directly to her vagina. It was hot and wet. A swamp!

I got up and kissed my mother's soft, slightly cool lips, noticing they were trembling violently.

To be honest, I'd only ever kissed trembling lips once before, but that wasn't my first love (for my first love, I was her nth boyfriend).

(The trembling lips belonged to a 43-year-old respectable woman, truly inexperienced, truly a first-timer. Excitement mixed with panic. Perhaps excitement only accounted for 20%, while panic made up 80%.)

Thinking back, I've slept with twenty-seven different women since, but I've never encountered a woman with trembling lips again.

I personally believe that "trembling lips" is a crucial sign of true passion.

Now, my mother's moans were plaintive, her tone unusually mournful.

I used my fingers to stroke my mother's bleeding vulva, and surprisingly, I discovered her uterus had prolapsed from the vaginal opening, round, slippery, and incredibly cute.

I became excited and quickened my masturbation of her prolapsed uterus.

I said, "Mom, where should I touch you?"

My mother moaned and whimpered, not answering me.

I moved quickly, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, like a complete devil. I admired my birth mother in my arms, watching her move beneath my touch like a fish out of water.

Listening to her moans, each different in pitch depending on the speed of my fingers, I felt as if she were a sensitive musical instrument in my arms.

Mom started trembling. I could feel her struggling in pain. Perhaps she was questioning herself, just like me: should this relationship end?

Mom's tongue went into my mouth. I thrust my right index finger hard into Mom's urethra, while my other fingers roughly stroked her prolapsed cervix.

Mom's urethra was wet and hot, tightly "sucking" at my index finger.

Suddenly, Mom's buttocks rose high, about twenty centimeters off the sheets.

Her whole body convulsed, her leg muscles throbbing. I knew that Mom had been brought to orgasm again by my intense masturbation.

Under the light, Mom's eyes were closed, her teeth bared, revealing her gums and teeth. There was glistening saliva on the surface of her gums and teeth.

Little slut was still sitting on the carpet by the bed, watching us while chewing the egg and panting as she masturbated her vagina.

I picked up another hard-boiled egg, peeled it, and stuffed it into Mom's bloody vagina.

Mom was completely unaware. She seemed truly exhausted.

Mom snored loudly.

The little slut started gently rubbing my penis and balls.

I asked her, "Is it itchy?"

The little slut panted and said, "Mmm..."

I asked knowingly, "Where is it itchy?"

The little slut whispered, "My stinky cunt is itchy."

As she spoke, she rubbed her cunt against my hand. I gently inserted my fingers into her hot cunt.

She immediately cried out in heat, a mournful and plaintive sound. At the same time, the stray cats in the building complex also started crying out in heat.

Masturbating her, I closed my eyes.

I was so sleepy that I didn't remember anything after that. I had just dozed off

when I opened my eyes again, and the morning light outside the window was already a hazy blue.

I didn't really notice how the sky brightened. I felt that there was only a transition between night and dawn, not opposition. Good and evil are always one.

I saw that my mother was still fast asleep, but the little slut was gone.

I got up and went straight to the big mattress outside, only to find the blankets neatly folded, but she was gone.

Did she run away? Did she go back to my apartment? Never mind her!

Hearing my mother call me, I went back to the bedroom. My mother was awake.

I dressed her, took her to the bathroom to urinate, and then wiped her down.

I took off her blood-stained sanitary napkin. The freshly changed napkin was heavy. I smelled it; it was incredibly fishy and pungent, a stench tinged with a fragrance. I put it to my mother's mouth. She shook her head and knocked it away.

I picked it up and stuck it to my own mouth, inhaling the pungent, fishy fragrance. My mother looked at me in horror.

I pulled the boiled egg, which had been incubating overnight, from my mother's bloodied vagina

. The boiled egg was red, covered in menstrual blood and mucus. I stuffed this blood-soaked boiled egg into my mother's mouth. My mother frowned, but obediently chewed it.

My armless mother eating a boiled egg marinated in her own bloodied vagina—this masochistic scene was extremely bizarre. I liked it; I felt aroused again.

I dragged my mother to the living room sofa, and, naked with my erect penis, knelt on it, kissing her face, licking her neck and ears, saying, "Mom, you're so horny!"

My mother was still chewing her boiled egg, choking and rolling her eyes.

I continued to impulsively kiss and lick her, when suddenly I heard the door key turning. The door opened, and my little slut came back from walking the dog and buying fried dough sticks, her face red from the cold.

She stared at the strange mother and son on the sofa for a moment, then changed into slippers and went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

My mother's face was already flushed. I put on my long underwear, changed my mother's sanitary napkin, tied her menstrual belt, dressed her, and helped her wash up. A whole set.

As I did this, the phrase "milking for once was not a chore..." suddenly popped into my head.

This was a line from the original text of "Christmas Day in the Morning" that I memorized in college. Back then, I was young and didn't understand the hardships behind life!

On the breakfast table, my little slut had prepared fried dough sticks, milk, orange juice, biscuits, and apple salad.

After finishing breakfast, I told my little rascal to take good care of my mom and make sure she didn't catch a cold. She said it was no problem.

I changed into my leather shoes and put on my leather jacket. Mom was watching me from the sofa, her bare toes pressing the TV remote.

I yelled at her, "Feet!"

Mom immediately pulled her bare feet back under the blanket. I knew she'd do it again as soon as I left. Oh well.

I went out. The freezing air outside almost made me choke. The heating inside was too warm, and stepping into the icy cold was too much for my lungs.

The cold air felt like square blocks, like bricks, I couldn't swallow it...

I walked forward, squinting, my face streaked with snow.

Where was I going? Where was I supposed to go? (To be continued...)

Episode 13: Take the Money and Go! Key elements: strangers, abuse, orgasm, anal sex, urination, defecation, suspense. Those who like it, keep reading. Those with a sensitive stomach, press the back button. I'm warning you! Don't watch this and then say you can't handle it! Episode 13 begins: I went out. The freezing cold outside almost choked me. The heating inside was too warm, and stepping into the icy wilderness was too much for my lungs. The cold air felt like square blocks, like bricks, impossible to swallow… I squinted and walked forward, my face streaked with snow. Where am I going? Where am I supposed to go? I arrived at the Evil Spirit Gate (fictional location). This labor market is well-known, having been repeatedly raided, yet it stubbornly survives. Those in need come here to find their match. All sorts of people from all walks of life gather here, each with their own ulterior motives and purposes. I walked back and forth three times. Countless young girls and middle-aged women chased after me, asking what I was looking for. I coldly observed them. They all seemed foolish and not clean enough. No good. None of them worked. Finally, I saw a woman who seemed alright, in her thirties, relatively clean and presentable, and not very talkative. I went over and asked her, "Have you ever taken care of the elderly before?" She coldly retorted, "Men or women?" I whispered like a grandson, "Old ladies." The woman arrogantly replied, "No." Immediately, seven or eight dirty-looking girls surrounded me, snotty-nosed and speaking in various accents, eagerly volunteering, "I can! I can!" I struggled to escape the snotty crowd and walked in the biting cold wind to a famous hospital two stops away. A large group of caregivers were always waiting at the entrance. They were all different kinds of women. Frostbite on their faces. Snotty noses. Various accents. After some back and forth, I picked a few who seemed clean and asked them questions, but none of them would take care of the elderly. There was a small shop next door with a sign that read "Domestic Services." I went in. I came out less than two minutes later. None of them would take care of the elderly. Damn this world! I was utterly desperate. It was noon, and I was hungry. A row of people were squatting on a stone platform outside the hospital gate. Among them was a man in his thirties, dark-skinned and healthy, short and stocky, staring blankly ahead with a desolate expression. I squatted down next to him. Suddenly, he reached out his hand. It turned out that the person making jianbing (Chinese crepes) in front of him had finished and was handing it to him. He took it, paid, and squatted back down, beginning his gruesome eating. The way he ate was quite frightening.

It made my stomach churn, it was like a thunderclap. I ordered a jianbing guozi (Chinese crepe) too.

The man next to me had only eaten half when he suddenly burst into tears, oblivious to everyone around him.

An extra? I looked around, but didn't see any cameras.

Looking at him again, he was crying his heart out, his whole body trembling, gradually collapsing, his body slumping against my shoulder.

I put my arm around his shoulder and gently patted his back. He sobbed intermittently, "I!...Mom! It's...oh!"

I blurted out, "Cry. Cry. Cry it all out."

He indeed wailed even more intensely, collapsing against me like a limp child.

I remained as alert as a fugitive, continuing to scan my surroundings while my mind raced,

frantically searching my memory for this person—whether I'd seen him before, whether I'd seen him when I helped a friend in a fight, whether he was among all my enemies' friends...

The search was complete, conclusion: nothing.

He cried his heart out beside me, like a victim of humiliation and hurt finally clinging to the coattails of the Women's Federation director, or a high school girl clinging to her tough boyfriend after a painful breakup.

In the cold wind, passersby, men and women alike, hurried by, many turning away to give us disgusted glances.

My jianbing (Chinese crepe) arrived. He handed it to me. I paid and ate it. He was still wailing.

I sighed, lit a cigarette, and slowly smoked it, letting him wail on.

I'll be like him someday. When I wail, will anyone lend me a shoulder to lean on?

I ordered another jianbing. It arrived again. I finished it again. He was still wailing, his eyes red as peaches.

I gave him a cigarette. He took it, trembling, and put it in his mouth, still wailing.

I lit it for him. He coughed violently, as if his lungs were about to burst. He continued wailing.

I shook him off and said, "Alright, brother, you can take a different shoulder now. Take care."

He looked up, shocked, and asked, "You're leaving?!"

Analyzing his accent, it was very pure, but the slight lisp at the end revealed he wasn't a local.

I said truthfully, "Yes. I need to find a caregiver for my mother."

He hesitated for a moment and asked, "Why isn't your mother suitable?"

I said casually, "Hey, my mom... sigh! It's no use talking to you! I'll have to see you later."

I stood up and brushed the snowflakes off my clothes. He stood up as well and said, "Brother, if you don't mind, you can hire me. Let me tell you, brother, it's not really suitable for a woman to be a caregiver."

I looked at him more warily.

He quickly said, "Brother, I'm an honest man. I'm from Heizhuang Village." (Place name is fictional! - a8)

I know Heizhuang Village well. It's only about 80 miles from here. I often go there for barbecues.

I asked him casually, "Have you ever looked after an elderly person?"

I didn't expect him to be capable at all. He replied, "I've looked after my mother for ten years."

I asked, "Doesn't your wife look after her?"

He said, "I don't have a wife. My family is poor."

He was dressed very plainly, but his clothes were spotless. I looked at his fingers. They were clean, and his nails were short.

I always judge a man by his nails. If there's any dirt on them, I won't cooperate.

I sat on the stone platform, smoking with him, and we looked at the sky together.

The snow suddenly stopped. But the sky was still overcast, as if it was holding back even more snow.

I asked, "If you really looked after my mother, do you think you could do it?"

He said, "Brother, don't worry. I can do anything."

I said, "How much do you want?"

He said, "If you want me to look after her, you have to give me food and a mat to sleep on."

I was stunned. None of the previous answers were like this; they all claimed to earn two or three thousand a month just by opening their teeth.

I tilted my head and asked, "Who else is in your family?"

He pulled out his ID card and said, "I'm an only child. There's no one else in my family."

I took it. The name on the ID card was "xxx."

These days, even carrots can't be trusted, let alone ID cards.

But I still put the ID card in the pocket inside my leather jacket.

I said, "I can agree to that. But let me be clear, there's a lot of work to do at my mom's place."

He said, "Don't worry, brother. I'm willing to take care of the old lady."

I clearly explained to him everything he needed to do. He agreed to everything.

I said if he took good care of her, besides free room and board, I would give him some money. Save it up and get married in a couple of years.

He knelt down in the street.

The passersby turned their heads even more.

I took him to my mom's place. Ah Biao barked incessantly, dutifully fulfilling his duties. I gestured to stop him.

Little Sao Sao was scrubbing the floor with her bottom sticking up. When she saw me come back, she threw down the wet cloth and rushed over, leaping onto me and kissing my cheek.

I put her down and went into the bedroom. Little Sao Sao and A Biao followed me in.

Mom's afternoon nap was disturbed. I said, "Mom, I found you another caregiver. A man."

Mom looked at me, her face immediately turning red, and said, "We don't keep men in our family. This rule has been in place for so many years, you know that."

I sat on the edge of Mom's bed, stroking her hair, and said, "Didn't I tell you? Male caregivers have their advantages. Besides, I have to go out to discuss something tomorrow."

Mom sat up halfway, looking at me, still full of confusion: "You're discussing something... what does that have to do with a caregiver?"

I said, "This girl is pretty. I can take her out. We'll be gone for several days, and I don't trust you, right? So I found you this new one. Take a look?"

Little Sao Sao was very excited and quietly took my hand.

Mom said, "Oh? You brought everything? I'm all disheveled..."

I said, "It's alright. Shall I bring him in?"

Mom didn't seem dissatisfied. I arranged for Xiao Sao Sao to hand over the work to him.

I put my leather jacket back on and went out.

I went to a restaurant and ordered.

After eating and drinking my fill, I called the waiter over to pay the bill.

The waiter bowed and said, "Your bill has been settled."

I said, "I haven't settled it."

The waiter pointed to a table at the corner and said, "That table has been settled for you."

I looked over and saw a man and a woman, middle-aged, dressed very simply, but well-mannered.

I was puzzled, so I got up and went over, saying, "Excuse me, I have a bad memory. Have we met before?"

The man said, "Nice to meet you. Please sit down."

Looking at this man, his smile was bright and sunny; he didn't seem suspicious.

I hadn't done anything wrong, and I had nothing to hide.

I sat down and asked, "What can I do for you?"

The woman had a kind face and kept looking me up and down.

The man asked me, "Do you sell yourself?"

I was taken aback.

The man said frankly, "My wife thinks you're a good catch. The price is negotiable."

I asked, "What do you mean? Borrowing sperm?"

The woman answered the phone. He couldn't get an erection, he just looked.

The man said, "Pay on the spot. One orgasm for her, you get a thousand. Two orgasms, two thousand."

I said, "Oh, be careful you go bankrupt."

The man said, "Don't talk big."

The woman asked, "So you agree?"

I said, "Whatever."

The man said, "We're respectable people."

The woman said, "The rules are confidentiality, a medical exam, and condoms."

The man added, "Just once. No further contact afterward."

The woman said, "No names, no workplaces."

The man said, "The hotel will be negotiated between us."

I kept observing them closely. Their breathing was steady and even when they spoke, their limbs didn't move nervously, and their pupils didn't change size.

I trusted my intuition this time!

I said, "Okay."

The man wrote down a string of symbols and numbers and handed it to me, saying, "The test results are here. Call me if they're all negative."

The woman gave me a thousand yuan: "This is an advance payment, just a small token of my sincerity." Do

n't think I'm after their little bit of money.

I'm not short of cash. What makes my heart race is the thrill.

After the breakup, I went straight to a medical checkup, paying an extra three hundred yuan for expedited service. Afterwards, I went

back to my apartment and slept soundly, conserving my energy. I won't go into details

. I don't even know what time the little slut came back .

The next day, the little slut went to my mother's, claiming she needed to "continue the handover of work."

My mind was no longer on her.

I went to the hospital to get the test results. Everything was negative.

I contacted the couple and arranged to meet at a hotel.

When I entered the hotel room, I saw the woman sitting on the bed, but not her husband.

She exuded the charm of a mature woman. Dignified, upright, measured, and proper. Generous and presentable.

She was wearing white stockings. No shoes. Her feet were particularly narrow, slender, and delicate.

When she saw me staring at her feet, she blushed again, lowered her gaze, and said, "I... my shoes pinch my feet..."

I asked, "Where's your husband?" "

She whispered in my ear, 'She's hiding in the closet looking. Relax, just pretend he's not there.'"

Her clothes. Her figure was alright, not overweight. ...

Through her blouse, I saw her pair of large, white breasts, sagging and swaying.

She must have been very alluring when she was young. But time is merciless, leaving its mark on her face. There were several crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Her

breasts were somewhat soft and sagging.

She licked her lips, extremely seductive, very immoral, exuding a deadly aura, like a mesmerizing serpent.

I pulled open her blouse and found she wasn't wearing a bra. I roughly ripped off her blouse.

She sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless and naked, staring at me, her large white breasts swaying slightly, looking very indecent. Her eyes were wet and full of tension.

She groped for my penis and sighed. She said, "I want to... I really want to die..."

I pulled down her soaking wet panties, revealing her incredibly clear and beautiful clitoris. Semi-transparent, like a living marine creature.

Her vulva was slightly red, with thick pubic hair, and I could vaguely see her pink vagina inside.

I knelt down, brought my mouth to her vulva, and began licking it with my tongue.

At first, she passively let me do it, but after a while, she arched her buttocks upwards so my tongue could penetrate deeper.

As I licked, I pinched her clitoris with my fingers. The clitoris swelled even more, its head jutting out, trying to make me fuck it harder.

I roughly ravaged that clitoris. I had to grant it its wish!

The woman said, "You have no idea how I've survived these past years. How much I've craved a real cock!" "

I stripped naked and got into bed, impulsively sniffing her armpits.

Her armpits smelled of a faint, delicate fragrance mixed with a pungent, almost fishy, odor, and an indescribable scent of hay.

I pressed my hard cock against her vulva, about to thrust harder, when I suddenly heard her say, 'Put on a condom.'

I had no choice but to put on a condom and continue my assault.

The condom slid into her wet, hot, horny cunt, still feeling like a jar of warm butter.

She immediately opened her mouth and moaned shamelessly, like parched land receiving rain.

I commanded her, 'Touch yourself! Masturbate for me!'" "

She moaned as she was being fucked, obediently masturbating for me to see.

Her wet fingers furiously pounded her own erect penis.

Her large, white breasts swayed as I fucked her. Watching, I got even more excited.

She trembled, shook, moaned, and ejaculated yellow urine, reaching orgasm.

The hot urine soaked my pubic hair and drenched my penis.

I didn't stop, continuing my relentless assault.

She gasped for breath, trying to recover her strength." Li whispered to me, "I...I'm...there..."

Seeing the woman reach orgasm and collapse from exhaustion was the most triumphant moment of my life. A tremendous sense of accomplishment.

As I fucked her, I wondered: What's her husband doing in the closet right now? Is his ED cured?

I took a deep breath and continued to fuck her erect, wet mouth hard. She writhed restlessly like a cow.

Suddenly, I became animalistic, grabbing her hair and saying, "You slut, I'm going to fuck you to death!"

I choked her throat, glaring at her, and fucked her again and again.

Her throat was being choked, she couldn't breathe, she was suffocating.

Her face darkened, turning purplish-red. She couldn't breathe properly.

I felt her vagina contract powerfully again!

As I fucked her, I suddenly smelled feces. In her dying moments, her anal sphincter relaxed.

I knew that when someone is near death, they usually defecate. I thought to myself, "Damn it!" "

Quickly release her throat and look down. She's incontinent from my fucking, urine and feces are everywhere.

She catches her breath, greedily inhaling. She weakly says, 'My orgasm was really intense.'

I say, 'Yes. Look down there, everything's coming out!'

Her feces, urine, and vaginal secretions have made a mess of the bed.

Her neck is red from my grip. She exclaims, 'That was so amazing!'

I continue thrusting! Another intense battle!

She's in the middle of an orgasm when I suddenly pinch her erect clitoris hard.

She moans. I say, 'Touch your dirty asshole!'

She moans, hesitating whether to touch it or not.

I say, 'Quick! Play with your dirty asshole!'

She moans as she masturbates her anus.

I brutally pinch her clitoris, watching her scream in pain. She exhales heavily, her anus tightly closed.

She says, 'A woman has two mouths, one above and one below, both need to be eaten.'"

I said, "A woman has more than two mouths. She won't live in vain if she's fed."

She said, "Huh??"

I turned her over, making her lie face down on the bed.

She understood I wanted to play with her ass, and cooperated by sticking her plump, white buttocks up.

I spread her buttocks. Her red anus was wet.

I licked her anus with my tongue. Her anus was particularly sensitive.

With my thrusting, she let out a pleasurable moan.

I pulled her buttocks up and spat into her anus. As the *Biography of the Foolish Woman* says, "Spit can open a blockage."

I aimed my penis at her anus and pushed hard. My penis barely squeezed in, all the way in.

My thrusting went from slow to fast. Her smelly anus gradually became lubricated, allowing me to move in and out at will.

Could it be that she was already aroused enough to secrete the intestinal oil described in *The Art of Pleasure*?

She felt comfortable and began to wriggle her buttocks uncontrollably.

I fucked her while fiercely squeezing her big breasts.

She gripped the pillow tightly, letting me fuck her rear.

I grabbed her hands and said, "Spread your asshole open!"

She did as I said, with a pillow under her head and her arms behind her back, forcefully spreading her anus.

I could feel my penis rubbing against her G-spot through her rectum.

Listening to her lewd moans, I became more and more excited.

She had another orgasm, her rectum contracting rhythmically, greedily sucking on my big, hard penis.

That lewd pleasure swept through my whole body, intoxicating me, making me tremble with pleasure.

I focused on feeling and savoring the spasmodic contractions of her rectum.

She moaned and sobbed in the ecstasy of pleasure, unable to live or die, her face contorted.

Her fierce orgasmic contractions intensely stimulated her rectum. My penis felt the hard stool in her intestines.

I deliberately pulled my penis out forcefully, completely out each time, and then thrust it in hard again, enjoying the "pop" sound of the vacuum.

She groaned, her head held high, as dark brown stool clung to my penis and flowed out. Her urethra had also become incontinent, gushing urine.

I watched her defecate intently, deriving immense pleasure from it. I simply love watching women urinate and defecate.

I put the stool she produced into a plastic bag.

She finally finished. I noticed her rectum was prolapsed.

I licked it and pushed it back in. The strong odor stimulated my already hard penis, stubbornly remaining erect and thumping.

She climbed on top of me, touching my sweat-drenched forehead and licking my face.

The climax had just passed, the aftershocks still lingering. She was still panting, even her large, white breasts were covered in sweat.

I pulled out my penis. There was only a little bit of precum in the condom.

When she saw it, she looked up in surprise and asked, "Baby, you haven't ejaculated yet?"

I said, "No. I'm like a faucet; you have to turn it hard to get water out."

She looked defeated and asked, "Huh? I didn't turn it hard enough?"

I laughed and said, "Your skills are already good enough, but unfortunately, mine are even better, hehe."

She took out some money from her purse, counted it, and handed it to me, saying, "You just brought me to orgasm ten times. This is ten thousand in cash. Thank you."

I said, "Actually, as long as your heart is okay, I can still keep you company."

She said, "You're amazing. You fucked me to death. You didn't ejaculate backwards, did you?"

I said, "It's mainly because of the four words that the national diving team values most: willpower."

She touched my face and said affectionately, "You make me feel like I've wasted all those years of my life."

I shook her off, jumped up, and opened the wardrobe.

The wardrobe was empty!

I looked back at the woman, puzzled.

She said, "That man isn't my husband. Don't ask, the water's too deep. Take the money and go, forget about me from now on."

I said, "I want to break the rules. I want to fuck you again."

She said, "Actually, I want to too... but I can't."

I said, "What kind of stupid rules? Zhu Xi set them, right? Preserve heavenly principles and extinguish human desires!"

She smiled bitterly and said, "In the world of men, integrity is paramount."

I said, "But a life of following the rules isn't exciting."

She touched my face lingeringly and said, "You're still young. You haven't experienced enough. Listen to me, go quickly."

It sounded serious enough, like I'd be in danger if I stayed a minute longer. Survival was the priority.

I put away the money, picked up the heavy plastic bag, and left reluctantly.

To be continued~~

06-01
14: Glass Phone Booth

Episode Reflections:

I have a private car but don't drive, I prefer to take the train.

I have a cell phone but don't use it, I prefer public phones.

I'm against all of these things. I'm annoyed.

Episode Key Hints: Defecation, fucking a strange woman, KB, sadism, anal fingering, orgasm.

Those who enjoy it, keep watching. Those with a sensitive stomach, press the back button.

I'm warning you! Don't finish watching and then say you're disgusted!

Episode 14

sounds pretty serious at the beginning; it feels like I'd be in trouble if I waited even a minute longer. Survival is the priority.

I put away the money, picked up the heavy plastic bag, and left reluctantly.

Carrying the plastic bag full of slut poop, I walked out of the hotel, looking around blankly.

Under the cold winter sun, there were few pedestrians on the street, not even many dogs.

My stomach rumbled.

The window of a restaurant on the roadside caught my eye. The embroidered gauze curtain was narrow, only covering the lower half of the glass window.

It had a nice ambiance. I went in. There were quite a few customers inside. They were all foodies.

I found an empty seat by the window and ordered in the dappled winter sunlight.

After ordering, the waitress left. I lit a Shilin cigarette and closed my eyes to rest.

I heard two young men talking behind me, unrestrained and oblivious to everyone else.

Bandit A: "...I'm telling you, that cunt really came from me that day."

Bandit B: "How do you know she wasn't faking it?"

Bandit A: "Her breathing was so fast! Her face was so red! Her body doesn't lie. She definitely came from me."

Bandit B: "She's really shameless."

Bandit A: "Yeah! I've never seen anyone so slutty!"

Bandit B: "When can I sleep with her?"

Bandit A: "Are you paying for this meal?"

Bandit B: "Sure..."

My food arrived. I was really hungry. I started eating. While eating, I listened to the bandits talking behind me.

For no reason, my heart started racing. I thought the bandits were talking about my woman.

I felt one of the bandits was that security guard. The more I listened, the more likely it seemed!

I had a typical "lost axe owner" mentality.

("A man lost his axe and suspected his neighbor's son. He observed the boy's gait, his expression, his words, and his every action and attitude—it seemed like the boy was stealing the axe." —Liezi, Chapter 8, "Shuofu." A8 note)

Actually, it might not be that coincidental. There are plenty of scoundrels in the world. Just

as I finished eating, the waitress brought over a sizzling hot plate with its lid on to the table behind me, belonging to the bandits.

I heard the waitress say, "Sizzling beef tenderloin. Could you put it on this counter over there first? So it doesn't get splattered on you."

Bandit A: "Okay."

I said to the waitress, "Check, please."

The waitress said, "Okay, please wait a moment."

Then she turned and went to the counter, engrossed in pressing the calculator.

I stood up expressionlessly, put on my coat, blocked the view of the table behind me, subtly lifted the lid, and dumped all the excrement from the plastic bag onto the hot plate of beef tenderloin, then closed the shiny silver lid.

After paying at the counter, I saw out of the corner of my eye that the waitress went to that table to prepare the hot plate.

Just as I expected. As I stepped out of the restaurant, I heard a scream.

I walked into the cold wind. The wind quickly chilled me to the bone.

In the wind and snow, thinking about the greasy dishes from earlier, I suddenly felt disgusted!

I wanted to leave! I wanted to leave far away. To leave behind all responsibilities, all troubles.

Actually, I'd been a little tired of it for a while. I'd already laid the groundwork by telling my mom I was going out to "discuss business."

I walked into a phone booth by the roadside and dialed my mom's number.

These were two glass phone booths right next to each other. In the next booth stood a woman, wearing a fur coat, covering the receiver and saying something.

As I dialed, I glanced at the woman next door. She

glanced at me, twisting her body, looking a little strange. I

looked closer and realized that her hand, which wasn't holding the receiver, was inside the hem of her fur coat, touching her genitals.

I glared at her fiercely. She stared at me lewdly, her hand busy at her genitals, as if she wasn't afraid of being seen by passersby.

My mom's phone rang. The little slut answered.

While watching the woman next door, I was on the phone: "Hello, it's me. What's Mom doing?"

She replied, "Watching TV."

I asked, "What about the guy?"

She replied, "Giving her a back massage."

I asked, "What about you?"

She replied, "Just finished washing the dishes and is about to make a salad. What's up?"

I said, "Come downstairs right now to Old K's Coffee Shop on Naihe Road. I'll wait for you." (Street name is fictional. - a8 note)

She asked, "Where?"

I said, "Right across from the store where I bought you shoes!"

She asked, "Why?"

I said, "Taking you to discuss business."

She was excited and hung up.

If you were a country girl who went to the city, would you be willing to just mop the floor?

People strive for better things. They go where the best is.

As the employer, if you can't let her "strive for better things," you at least have to give her a glimpse of hope. That's how you keep her.

After hanging up, I could finally concentrate on watching the slut next door masturbate.

She was still watching me while talking on the phone and touching herself.

I pushed open the glass door of my phone booth, pulled open the glass door of the one next door, and barged in, slamming her head against the glass.

I heard her moan, "Ahhh!"

I roughly lifted the hem of her fur coat and reached inside, discovering she wasn't wearing underwear.

I roughly squeezed her soft, white buttocks.

She continued moaning into the receiver: "Oh... um... ah... oh... ah..."

I don't bother others unless they bother me. If they bother me, I'll retaliate. No matter who she's talking to, I'm going to fuck this slutty cunt that's been slutting me!

I probed her genitals with my cold fingers, feeling a large, sticky pool of wet vaginal fluid.

She turned around, kissing my cheek while still on the phone.

I thrust my fingers hard into her soft cunt. She arched her back. Her cunt was wet and burning hot.

She continued to moan dreamily into the microphone, panting, "...He came in...he touched me..."

I heard an urgent male voice on the other end of the line ask, "Where did he touch you?"

I was fingering her cunt while kneading her large breasts.

She hesitated for a long time, unable to find the right words.

She trembled from my fucking, her voice severely broken, unable to speak coherently.

I snatched the microphone from her hand and held it to my ear, hearing the man inside frantically ask, "...Where did he touch you? Tell me!"

I said into the microphone, "Right now I'm fucking her wet cunt. Her wet cunt is burning hot."

A bewildered voice on the other end of the line asked, "What? Who are you?"

I held the microphone to her mouth. She said, "...Husband...he's fucking me...my cunt..." Then she started to cry.

I fucked her G-spot with a slurping sound, fierce and persistent. She half-heartedly tried to struggle.

I casually ripped off the silk scarf around her neck, raised her arms and bent them back, then tied her hands behind her neck and crossed them over the aluminum pole in the phone booth, wrapping the excess scarf around her neck once more.

Watching this stranger, this slut, being masturbated, crying, and moaning, filled me with extreme pleasure.

My hand pressure crescendo (Italian: gradually increasing. The graph shows ▂▃▄▅▆▇█. —a8 note) as

I shoved the phone receiver directly into her wet cunt, saying, "Look, everyone outside is looking at you! Look at that boss! Look at that college student..."

While pulling her hair, I gripped the phone receiver tightly and thrust into her dripping cunt.

Bound, she moaned, "Mmm...ah..." Suddenly, she rose to her tiptoes, her body straightening, her intermittent moans forming lines, the sound spectrum resembling a flat "~~~~" wave.

I intensified my movements, thrusting into her G-spot with the phone, my actions heating up, three thrusts per second.

She made deep moaning sounds, her wet cunt gripping the receiver tightly, writhing and entwining.

I licked her cheek and said, "You slut, you came from being fucked by a bastard, didn't you?"

She nodded.

I pulled the phone receiver out and shoved it to her mouth, saying, "You slut! Tell him!"

She whimpered into the phone.

I kneed her naked cunt, saying viciously, "You slut, you tell him!"

The slut stood embarrassed in the phone booth, her hands tied behind her head, panting heavily, and told her husband into the receiver, "...Honey...I just came from being fucked by a man..."

Her husband was still talking to her on the other end of the line. She responded with "uh-huh."

Her hair was completely messed up, her face flushed, her eyes big, and upon closer inspection, she was quite attractive.

I grabbed her hair with my left hand and inserted my right hand into her asshole, touching her anus.

Her anus was wet and warm, her sphincter relaxed, glistening with the fluid she had just secreted.

I thrust harder, pushing my finger inside.

She was bound, the phone receiver between her fingers, and turned to kiss me passionately.

Ignoring whether anyone was watching, I grabbed her hair and brutally fingered her anus.

I shoved the phone in her mouth, opened the door, and walked out.

She was all alone, tied up in that phone booth by a stranger.

What expression would the next person who went in have?

What would happen between them?

Outside, snowflakes were flying.

The sky was still overcast.

I entered Old K's coffee shop, and the waitress quickly made me a small cup of Irish espresso.

They knew my preferences by heart.

Old K was busy talking to two foreigners at the back.

We nodded to each other. He offered me a cigarette. I caught it, lit it, and looked out the window.

Old K was my childhood friend. I knew him inside and out. He was very energetic. Tall and handsome. He wore a ponytail and made himself look like an artist. Old

K opened this coffee shop a few years ago. I come here for a while whenever I have free time.

I know he also does those shady things that aren't respectable.

I've tried to persuade him. To no avail. A gentleman doesn't stand in the way of others making money. Let him do whatever he wants.

Twenty minutes later, Little Sao Sao walked in, her face flushed. She sat down and excitedly asked me, "Is this outfit okay for me?"

I deliberately asked her, "What do you mean, '

okay'?" She said, "For business."

I coldly replied, "You're not qualified to do business with me!"

She froze, not recovering for a long time. "Then...then what you said earlier..."

I said, "I meant for you to tell my mom that."

She looked disappointed.

I kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, "Brother is going to take you out to play."

Her eyes lit up again. "Really? Where?"

I said, "You'll find out when the time comes."

We got up and walked out. I greeted Old K, "You're busy. I'm leaving now."

Old K got up and saw us to the door.

Old K's name has the character "Wei" in it. I said to the little slut, "Call him Brother Wei."

The little slut said, "Hello, Brother Wei."

Old K stared intently at the little slut and said, "You're quite the beauty."

I said, "When are you coming to my place?"

Old K said, "A friend's wife, how could I?"

I said, "A friend's wife, who's being polite?"

Old K smiled faintly, which was an agreement.

The little slut's face turned red to her neck.

After saying goodbye to Old K, I put my arm around the little slut and walked onto the cold street.

The sky darkened. The sky was a dirty blue. This city was dirty.

The smell in the air was dirty.

The people with heavy sins were dirty.

The shops on both sides of the street lit up.

I asked, "What do you think of Brother Wei?"

The little slut said, "He's really handsome. I feel... pretty good. Are you really willing to let him play with me?"

I said, "Don't think I care about you that much. What's there to be reluctant about?"

The little slut fell into deep thought and said, "Thinking about it is quite exciting. How do you plan to play with me?"

I said, "You'll find out when the time comes."

Train station. Bought tickets. The earliest train departs at dawn the next day.

When we came out of the train station ticket hall, it was completely dark.

She asked me, "Shall we go home?"

I said, "Too lazy to go back."

She asked, "Then what should we do?"

I looked around, then pulled her and walked west. The wind was getting stronger, so strong it was hard to open our eyes.

We walked and walked in the darkness against the wind. We passed a foot massage parlor, a massage parlor, a spa, three billiard halls, and four restaurants.

We passed a phone booth, but no one was there. I heard a mournful ringing of a telephone coming from inside.

How many lonely souls wander in this dirty city!

After walking a block, I led her to the back door of a gray building. I asked her to keep watch for me, and I took out my specially made master key, unlocked the door, pulled her inside, and quickly locked the large iron gate. It was

pitch black inside.

She asked, "Where is this?"

I said, "Old K's old workplace. Everyone's off work now."

She asked, "Is there no one in this building?"

I said, "There's an old man on duty at the front gate. There are ghosts upstairs."

Her eyes widened.

Actually, I was just trying to increase the thrill. I solemnly said, "This place is haunted. Really."

She immediately lowered her voice, asking in a chilling tone, "Then why are we here?"

Her low voice only amplified the fear.

I whispered back, "The food in their cafeteria is pretty good."

We hadn't gone two steps when she knocked over an enamel mug. "Clang, clang, clang!" The loud crash was particularly eerie.

I pulled her along, lifting our legs high and stepping lightly, cautiously making our way through the darkness.

Her palms and fingers were soft, slightly sweaty, and cool.

My hands had warmed up, becoming dry and hot. I

couldn't get enough of holding her soft little hand; once I took it, I didn't want to let go.

I remember clearly realizing then that looking back, holding her soft little hand would be a kind of happiness.

We wandered around, finally making our way into the cafeteria's kitchen.

We still didn't dare turn on the lights. In the darkness, we gently felt our way to the large steamer, lifted the lid, and felt for large steamed buns on the inner tray.

We opened the lid of the giant pot, a meter in diameter, and took a sniff—it was stewed meat! It was still warm.

We opened the staff's small cabinet and pulled out a few chopsticks and two spoons.

We climbed onto the edge of the pot and devoured it until we were stuffed.

The large glass window was seven or eight meters high.

Outside, the snow had stopped, and we saw the long-awaited moon.

Full, we started looking around.

By the moonlight, we saw half a carcass on the cutting board—a common sight in the market.

I touched the large, cold piece of meat in the moonlight. It was soft, the skin rough, and some hair hadn't been properly shaved.

Suddenly, I felt a nipple in my hand. I looked down closely. It was

similar to a man's nipple, the nipple opening clearly sunken in.

A pale, shriveled nipple—had it ever been full in life?

What was that sound?

Listening closely, I faintly heard a song coming from a distant high-rise building—Li Chunbo's poem: "I once loved deeply, I once felt helpless.

I once shed tears, unwilling to let go."

I once had it, and I once lost it.

I once faced difficult choices.

So much sweetness and bitterness, turning into so many joys and sorrows.

I once suffered from insomnia, and I once felt exhilarated.

I once lost my mind for you.

I was once young, and I was once impulsive.

I once got drunk for you.

The years of heartbreak and unrequited love remain forever etched in my memories.

Who can tell me what is right and what is wrong?

Who can tell me what is what, what is what…

On this bitterly cold winter night, listening to ethereal songs, I viciously pinched the nipple of a woman in front of her.

She watched me pinch her nipple, and her buttocks began to writhe restlessly.

I reached into her pants, masturbating her wet vagina, and asked her, “Want to fuck?”

She nodded, her face flushed as she looked at me.

I picked up the boning knife beside me, aimed the sharp blade at one of the woman’s nipples, and cut vertically.

The skin was quite thick. And tough. Not easy to cut. She looked at me.

I increased the pressure on my wrist. With a crack, it was split open vertically. Inside was white mammary tissue.

I handed her the knife. She hesitated for a long time before taking it.

I stood behind her, embraced her body, and took her hand, guiding her to place the blade on her other nipple.

Her hands went limp, her head bowed, her lips drooling, saliva dripping down onto her nipples. (Not from lust, but from incontinence. —a8 note)

I pulled down her pants, thrusting my penis into her wet cunt, gently gurgling, faster and faster, like a train pulling out of a station, gradually accelerating.

She used a knife to cut open the animal's nipples, one crunch, one crunch.

I was behind her, shoving my arms around her shoulders, shrugging my back, thrusting my hips forward like a male dog.

Her breathing quickened. Infected by her, I became excited too, licking her ear and asking, "Are you a little slut?"

She said, "I'm a little slut~~ I'm a slut~~"

She gripped the knife, her whole body tense, like a bowstring taut.

I pressed down on the back of her head, forcefully pressing her face down, directly into that large piece of pork belly.

She whimpered, her small hands clutching the sharp knife.

I pressed her head down with my left hand, and reached around with my right to dig into her clitoris.

I dug with so much force that I felt like I had lifted her entire body up.

Under the cold moonlight, I grinned as I fucked this girl.

If you looked in through the window, you'd think you were seeing a hideous, blue-faced ghost.

At that moment, I suddenly understood what my buddies meant by the supposed haunting of their building.

In the moment of collapse before climax, she suddenly cried.

My penis felt her hot vagina contract violently.

My right hand felt a gush of hot, sticky fluid "squeak" out, splashing all over my hand. The rest flowed down her thighs and into my pants.

Had she peed from being fucked? Or had she "ejaculated"? I didn't care to figure it out.

Looking at the sharp knife in her hand, I didn't dare to ejaculate freely.

I tried to take the knife from her tightly gripped hand.

She was using too much force; her fingers were stiff. I had to pry them open with all my might.

As soon as the climax subsided, she turned around, stood on tiptoe, hugged me, and sobbed, "I love you!"

Snot, tears, and saliva covered my face.

She held my face and kissed me fiercely.

The love on the chopping board was eerily strange, yet I was deeply moved, a warmth spreading through my heart.

I stared at her, dumbfounded.

After the passion subsided, the dust settled.

She realized she had lost her composure, released me, and said, "I mean... I like being fucked by you like this..."

We had no future.

I pulled her to the second-floor reception room. The heating wasn't working. We huddled together on the large sofa, enduring the night.

Two lonely souls, two wretched bodies, shivering, seeking warmth in each other's company.

It was pitch black all around. She dared not close her eyes, watching warily, wary of the "ghost" I mentioned.

The "ghost" was exhausted and didn't wake up all night.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, before the people arrived for work, we hurriedly left the building through the back door, entered the train station, and boarded the train.

Once on the train, she finally felt at ease; she slept the entire way.

The train moved on.

Clang, clang, monotonous and tedious.

I held her, looking at her hair, smelling her hair, gently stroking it.

Old K has a sister. I'm jealous of him.

I envy all my buddies who have sisters.

I desperately want a sister.

Unfortunately, I don't.

I'm lonely, all alone.

Once my mother dies, I'll have no family left.

Now, holding this girl in my arms, my heart feels soft and warm, as if I'm holding a dream, holding hope.

But how far can we go together?

Is she right for me?

Sometimes I think she's silly, sometimes I think she's wicked; I can't handle her at all.

Oh well, I won't think about it too much. I'll just go with the flow!

At nine in the morning, we got off the train.

The snow in the mountains was much thicker than in the city, and the temperature was much lower. My hands and feet were freezing.

We crunched through the snow.

She asked me, "Are we almost there? Huh?"

Crunch, crunch.

She asked, "Are we almost there? Huh?"

Crunch, crunch.

She asked me, "Huh? We're not there yet?"

Crunch, crunch.

It's so cold. She didn't even notice her snot running down her face. I wiped it away for her.

She walked a few steps with her head down and asked, "Where is this place?"

I said, "Didn't you see the station sign? It's the cement one near the train station."

She said, "I didn't notice."

I said, "This place is called Heizhuangtun." (The place name is fictional. It was mentioned in the previous episode. --a8)

I've been here before, here for a barbecue.

We walked and walked.

After entering the village, I followed my vague memory to a small village house, pushed open the door, and called out, "I'm here!"

"Oh! Who is it?"

The landlord and his wife, both in their forties or fifties, responded. Their two sons were studying in the county town.

Poor mountains and bad waters breed unruly people. You can only find people who look kind. You can know a person's face but not their heart.

The couple saw a lucky break at their door and greeted them with smiles: "It's been a long time since you've been here. Come on, please come to the north room."

We took off our snow goggles, dusted off the snow on our clothes, wiped the mud off our shoes, and went into the north room.

The room was very warm. We took off our coats and shoes, sat cross-legged on the kang (heated brick bed), and covered ourselves with a thick quilt.

After exchanging pleasantries, we chatted casually about this and that, the landlord's shifty eyes constantly scanning the young girl's body and face.

A while later, the woman put on her shoes and went out to the south room to prepare the meal.

The food was ready. The landlord kept serving the young girl food, being extremely attentive.

I pretended not to see it.

I knew perfectly well what was going on! After the meal, seeing that she was exhausted and drowsy, I told her to sleep.

The landlord said, "There's no heated kang in the west room. It's too cold. Just make do on the kang in this room."

I said it didn't matter, put on my coat, and went out of the house and yard.

I had my purpose in coming, so I couldn't stay inside.

The mountain roads were rugged and sloping.

The mountain paths were covered with snow, trampled into a muddy mess by horses and carts, and then frozen solid by the low temperature.

The hillsides on both sides were completely white.

I climbed a hill and looked out at the pristine white landscape.

I walked and walked. My inner warmer was already starting to feel slightly damp with sweat.

I like to sweat. It seems that worries can be expelled with sweat.

As I walked, I came to a ravine. Wild jujube trees and thorny bushes grew everywhere.

I saw a small open-air toilet made of broken bricks, the remaining mud-brick walls only reaching my waist.

Feeling the urge to urinate, I went into the dilapidated toilet, unzipped my jeans, took out my penis, and started to pee.

Just as I was about to let out, I suddenly heard a whooshing sound!

The urge to urinate vanished instantly!

I looked up sharply and saw a woman standing on the other side of the dividing wall between men and women. She was middle-aged, licking her lips and looking at me with her eyes fixed on my penis. (

6209 words

to be continued...) Episode

15: Breeding Station.

Key points: fucking a strange old woman, urinating, orgasm, role-playing, anal sex, defecation, suspense.

Press back if you have a sensitive stomach. I'm warning you! Don't read it and then complain about the heavy content!

Episode 15 begins.

Just as I was about to let loose, I heard a wheezing sound!

The urge to urinate vanished instantly!

I looked up sharply and saw a woman standing on the other side of the dividing wall between men and women. She was middle-aged, licking her lips and looking at me with her eyes fixed on my penis.

I looked down and examined my penis as well. My penis wasn't at its most erect, but it always gets swollen when you hold your pee.

Judging from the woman's hairstyle, clothes, and skin color, she was undoubtedly a local mountain dweller.

Around fifty years old, her cheeks were red.

Was she cold? " Getting aroused?

" the woman said. "Brother, your penis is really big."

In the freezing cold, hearing an older woman praise my dick halfway through felt good.

Looking around to make sure no one else was there, I said to her, "Come here. You can see clearly."

She pushed aside the boundary wall, pulled up her pants, and came over.

Apparently, the boundary wall was just a half-open door. A strange custom.

As soon as she came over, I grabbed her and said, "Hold this for me."

The older woman lowered her eyes and said meekly, "Huh? Why?"

I said, "Being stared at by you makes me unable to pee. You have to hold me. Hurry up!"

With that, I grabbed her hand and placed it on my penis.

She took my penis with her right hand, pulled up her pants with her left, and looked around again.

No one was there.

At this moment, our upper bodies were completely exposed outside the wall.

I grabbed her hair with my left hand and pulled her back.

She cried out in pain, her head jerking back, and her lips parted: "Mmm~~"

I kissed her cheek. A smell of burning firewood filled the air. My right hand slipped inside her cotton pants, my cool fingers touching her cunt.

I felt it. Her cunt was warm. My hand was ice cold. She stiffened.

I didn't care and continued to fondle her warm cunt.

After a while, I pulled my hand out and smelled it.

The cunt fluid on my fingers made me dizzy.

I admit, I'm a creature of smell.

I said, "Your cunt is really horny!"

She said, "Brother, are you going to hold it in or not?"

She was waiting for me to pee. I was waiting too. I

really was holding it in. Since last night, my vas deferens had been full of thick semen, and now my bladder was still full of several pounds of hot urine.

Her fingers and palms had calluses, but it was still fresh and exciting.

When you're out and about, don't be fussy

. My penis was throbbing, and with excitement, I couldn't pee right away.

The stronger the urge to pee, the more hesitant I became.

She asked, "Still can't pee?"

I said, "Don't rush me! We're at the door."

My eyes scanned the surroundings warily again. There was really no one there.

A gray magpie took flight, fluttering and scattering a snowflake across the forest floor.

I was focused on feeling the mountain woman touching my penis.

She said, "Brother, your wife is really lucky."

I said, "We're divorced."

She said, "Good. Find someone better."

I said, "Don't move! Don't move!"

Finally, scalding hot urine gushed out.

Steaming hot urine sprayed onto the snow-covered ground.

The pungent aroma spread through the fresh valley.

The snow sprayed by my hot urine melted instantly, and the urine sprayed onto the withered leaves beneath the snow.

The splashing sound of urine was particularly jarring in the silent valley.

Urinating is a pleasurable experience.

Having my penis held by a strange mountain woman made it even more enjoyable.

I urinated and urinated, nonstop, urinating a full five pounds.

(Don't argue! You think the "800,000 Imperial Guard Instructor" was compiling the Imperial Guard lineage back then?)

She laughed and said, "It's like an elephant."

We chuckled and shook our shoulders, the urine stream immediately becoming tangled.

Finally, I finished urinating. Finally, the urine stopped flowing.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

My older sister gave me a shake of her penis.

I shuddered and inserted my fingers into her vagina.

Her vagina was warm, a stark contrast to the icy landscape.

She spoke: "I've never seen such a good penis in my life..."

I said: "Not only does it look good, it works too."

She muttered to herself: "It's so itchy inside..."

I said: "Want to try?"

She said: "Wait a minute. It's contracting now..."

("Contracting": feeling good down there, about to climax. - a8 note.)

The sound of my fingers squelching as I fucked her vagina echoed in the desolate valley.

She looked ahead, her eyes fixed, biting her lower lip, focused on capturing the pleasure.

Her face gradually contorted in pain, she bared her teeth, hissed, and snorted through her nose.

She lifted her heels, her body stiffened, her eyelids squeezed tightly shut.

I still remember the creases of her eyelids.

My fingers felt her vagina contracting to its limit.

I fucked her, I masturbated her.

She came.

She was enjoying it. As if there was no tomorrow.

Her whole body was trembling. She was as excited as a dog.

Her eyelids were squinting tightly together.

Her vagina was contracting, contracting, contracting.

After a long while, her vagina stopped contracting, and her body relaxed.

The bitch was panting heavily.

In the icy snow, a layer of white sweat appeared on her forehead.

She half-opened her eyes, looking at me.

Her hand was still gripping my penis.

Suddenly, she began to sing softly: "On the seventh day of the seventh month that year, I went to the market alone and met a soldier.

That soldier, he was a scoundrel, he dragged me into the sorghum field.

Once in the sorghum field, he wanted to fuck me, he held me tightly, belly to belly.

The sorghum field was so dense, I ran and ran but couldn't catch up, he ripped off my clothes and pulled out his black penis.

Long in the front, long in the back, he burrowed into my vagina in one go..."

I felt extremely obscene, and my penis became rock hard.

I said, "Bend over."

She held onto the half-broken door panel and bent over, sticking out her white buttocks.

I spread her wet, loose vagina and raped her from behind, pulling her hair as I fucked her.

I thrust hard. She was being penetrated by me, making the half-door sway.

Creak, creak.

She kept moaning as I fucked her, "Ouch! Ouch~~ ya" (the "ouch" was emphasized, the "ya" was soft), sounding like a groan of serious injury, like regret, like a mournful sigh.

I squeezed her bare buttocks hard, and then, getting excited, I slapped her buttocks.

Creak, creak.

"Ouch! Ouch~~ ya!~~"

"Slap! Slap!

" Creak, creak.

"Ouch! Ouch~~ ya!"

Slap slap creak ouch ouch slap slap creak slap ouch ouch!

I pressed down on the center of her buttocks, my thumb touching her anus.

Soft, moist.

She cried out, "Ouch! Don't touch me there! There's poop... I just pooped..."

I didn't let go, continuing to dig and ask, "Does it feel good?"

She said, "Shrink."

Her vagina and anus twitched together.

I said, "Does it feel good to touch your ass?"

She said, "Shrink. I shrink."

I said, "You slut, shrink!"

She excitedly quickened her breathing, "Mmm... I'm slutty, I shrink..."

I pressed harder on her cunt while interrogating her, "What's your nickname?"

She said, "Call me Mother."

I said, "Mother, you're so shameless!"

She groaned even louder, "Ahhhhh!"

An old cunt being fucked by a stranger, without any shame. I both love and hate women.

With a forceful push of my thumb, I dug into her anus.

She cried out, "Ah! Ahhhhh!"

as if her vital point had been hit. Her cunt tightened, becoming even wetter. I said,

"Mother, you old slut!"

She hummed, "Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh!" I

said, "Mother, do you have any shame?"

She responded, "Mother has no shame..."

I said, "Mother, I'll fuck your slutty cunt to death!"

She groaned, "Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh!"

After a while, her breathing rate suddenly increased.

She "shrank" again.

The shameless woman suddenly raised her head and howled at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking, making no attempt to conceal her pleasure, like a female beast.

The snow had just cleared in the empty mountains, and this sudden outburst sent snowflakes scattering from the treetops above us.

I tensed up for a moment, waiting for the woman's climax to subside and her cunt to loosen.

While probing her anus, I started making crunching noises again.

She immediately started moaning, "Ouch! Ouch!"

I pulled out my thumb to admire it. It was slightly coated with some yellowish-brown sticky paste, and smelled awful.

I took out a leftover tea egg from my pocket, peeled it, and stuffed it into her cunt, continuing to thrust with my penis inside.

My penis pressed against the tea egg, and the tea egg against her cervix.

Her cunt reached another climax, this time silent, just trembling.

I was aroused, pulling out my slippery, hard penis and thrusting it into her anus.

She immediately pushed me away with her arms.

I gripped her buttocks tightly, pushing my penis in like a leech.

I went in. Her white buttocks throbbed nervously before my eyes.

I must say, her rectum was definitely tighter than her front.

The dark, stinking rectum gripped my penis tightly.

My large cock rubbed against the rectal wall, rubbing against the sticky excrement.

The tendons teased the old woman's anus.

The old woman was experiencing both pain and pleasure, her head swaying, her mouth starting to babble incoherently.

I thrust into her, she sat back.

I pulled back, she moved forward.

Back and forth, we clicked, the old cunt went wild. When I

pulled my cock out, I could see the slippery excrement following.

Perverted. Disgusting. Exciting.

Perversion always gives me extra stimulation.

The cannon was ignited. The fuse hissed, shooting sparks, getting shorter and shorter. Almost

there. Almost there. I wanted to hold it in a little longer.

I forcefully suppressed the ejaculation reflex.

After a while, the cannon ignited again.

My lower abdomen was already aching.

I really didn't want to torture myself anymore.

That hateful Gao Chong was so obsessive, he practically wore out the Green-Clad Horse.

I loosened the reins, fucking her while calling out, "Mother."

She answered as I fucked her, "Yes."

"Mother."

"Say it."

"I can't take it anymore."

"Come on." (pronounced "sui," a local dialect? Maybe it's an encouragement for me to ejaculate. --a8 note)

The cannon roared and fired furiously.

Her rectum contracted violently with my rhythm.

I lay on her back, gripping her shoulders tightly with both hands, my vision blurred.

I flew, soaring upwards, flying into a dreamlike realm.

I floated for over thirty seconds before drifting back to her back.

I found that I had finished my wild act, finished ejaculating, and her orgasm had quietly subsided.

My limp penis was slippery all over, starting to slip out.

It came out, with a long, drooping, sticky string between the head of my penis and her anus, like a cable-stayed bridge.

The mucus was thick, cloudy, yellowish-white, mixed with brown fecal juice.

The old woman straightened up, quickly scooped up the sticky fluid near her anus with her hand, and sucked it into her mouth.

This was truly a case of "a long-awaited rain after a drought."

I quickly tucked my penis back into my underwear and cautiously scanned our surroundings again. The valley was silent, and no one was around.

We hurriedly pulled up our pants. I noticed she tightened her red belt.

We were both breathing heavily. Our eyes met, and we smiled slightly.

I sized her up. Her hair was disheveled from my fucking, and her face was pale.

I touched her face. Cold.

Her hands. Cold.

Her buttocks. Cold.

We walked out of the breeding station surrounded by the low wall, panting heavily.

The old woman ran her hand through her hair and said breathlessly, "Your cunt is really good."

I said, "Did I fuck you until you came?"

The old woman said in a trembling voice, "Yes. Can fucking feel this good? His dad only lasted two strokes, he's never done this much."

Her smile was quite alluring.

I asked the old woman, "Is this a difficult year for you, big sister?"

She weakly replied, "Yeah, forty-eight. I'm practically a coffin's stuffer now."

I said, "What coffin's stuffer? You're still young."

She said casually, "I'm going to be a grandma." Suddenly she remembered something, "What did you stuff inside me? It's bloated."

I said, "I'm holding it in. I'll take it out and feed it to my grandson when we get home."

She said gratefully, "Meeting you in this life was worth it."

I took out the ID card from my inner pocket and showed it to her: "Have you seen him?"

She tilted her head and looked at it for a while, gradually frowning.

My heart sank.

To be continued...

16:

This episode's key hints: fucking a strange woman, inserting a foreign object into the anus, suspense.

Warning: Same rules as always! Press the back button if you have a weak stomach. Don't finish reading and then feel disgusted. You've been warned.

Episode Sixteen begins:

I took out the ID card from my inner pocket and showed it to her: "Have you seen him?"

She tilted her head and looked at it for a while, gradually frowning.

My heart sank.

She tensed up and said, "I don't think I've seen him before. I have to hurry home."

She turned and walked away.

Why was she so nervous?

It didn't seem like she was telling the truth.

Was this male caregiver really from Heizhuang Village?

What was his relationship with this woman?

Never mind, I'll ask someone else.

After walking about half a mile, I looked back, but the middle-aged woman was gone.

I turned back and continued walking. Suddenly, something darted away from under the bushes by the roadside.

I went over to look at the footprints left in the snow; it looked like a fox, with a pungent, fishy smell.

Back in the village, I saw a man herding cattle, about fifty years old.

I went over to offer him a cigarette and showed him my ID: "Do you know this person?"

The man, smoking, looked at it and said, "How could I not know him? Isn't this Erguai?"

Hearing there was hope, I quickly asked, "Who else lives with him?"

He said, "His sister. She's paralyzed."

His sister?! He has a sister?

I asked, "Which courtyard does he live in?"

The man said, "Everyone says his house is unlucky."

He then stubbed out his cigarette with his thumb and forefinger, tucked the remaining half behind his ear, and walked away.

I called to him. He didn't turn around.

I continued searching.

I saw a neat little courtyard with a small wooden sign hanging at the entrance. It looked like it had been burned, and there were a few words on it. If you looked closely, you could vaguely make out something like "Village Committee."

Going to the village committee to check would be the fastest way, of course, but the village committee would check my ID and ask me all sorts of questions, which was annoying.

I stood outside the village committee courtyard, lit a cigarette, and weighed the pros and cons of various options.

A woman pushed open the door and came out, leisurely eating melon seeds and sunbathing. She was plump, in her forties or fifties (people in poor areas look older. - a8 note.)

I took out my ID card and went over to her, asking, "Sister-in-law, is there such a person in our village?"

She looked at the ID card, then at me, and said, "Yes."

I said, "A friend of a friend asked me to pass on a message to him."

She looked me up and down, but didn't answer or move.

I pulled out a ten-yuan note and tried to stuff it into her pocket.

She quickly protested, "No, no!"

I pushed harder. She tried to stop me, scattering melon seeds everywhere.

How could she possibly compete with a strong laborer?

It slipped in, and I found my pocket had no bottom.

My hand touched her soft thigh.

I stared at her, wide-eyed.

She smiled, blushed, and looked very awkward, pulling my hand away from her.

She smiled sheepishly. I firmly shoved the money into her hand.

She looked at the banknotes indifferently and said, "I have no use for this. I can't spend it."

At that moment, I didn't have time to ponder the meaning behind her words.

I asked, "Where does he live?"

She handed the banknote back to me and asked, "Whose house?"

Good grief. Forgetful.

I said, "Which courtyard does Erguai live in?"

She said, "Oh, it's at the west end, just over the second ridge, turn the corner and you'll get there."

I looked west.

What a high mountain!

I asked, "After crossing the second ridge, which house is his?"

She said, "There's only their house there. They're quite eccentric; they don't interact with us much, and they don't talk to us much either."

I asked, "Who's at their house today?"

She said, "Their house is a bit strange. His sister got divorced and came back to live with them."

Live with "them"?

I asked, "Are his parents still healthy?"

She said, "His father died a long time ago. His grandmother is mentally ill."

I sensed a growing sense of unease and tugged at her sleeve, saying, "Take me to his house now."

She stood still, her hands in her sleeves. "He's not home. The day before yesterday, I saw him carrying his sister down the mountain, saying he was going to the city for medical treatment."

I asked, "What's wrong with his sister?"

She said, "I don't know. Sigh, this guy has it tough. He does all the housework."

I pulled her along, saying, "Take me to his house!"

We left the village and started

going uphill. I followed her westward. Our feet crunched under the thick snow.

She led the way, her hands still in her sleeves.

The mountain path was slippery in the snow. After only a few steps, she wobbled.

I quickly steadied her and held on tight.

As we walked, I put my arm around her waist and asked, "Sister-in-law, tell me the truth, what happened to your pocket?"

She lowered her head and whispered, "I'm sorry you had to see that. Things are tough here. We only have hawthorns in the valley, and we can't even get them out."

I said, "Even if you're poor, you can't be short of a couple of sets of needlework."

She whispered, "Well... it's convenient, isn't it?"

I asked, "Are all the women here like this?"

She said, "More or less. It's mountainous, poor, and there's not much work."

I casually remarked, "In winter, you're always so idle, aren't you?"

She replied, "Oh, you bet! The family behind our house only has one pair of pants, and the wife and kids are always huddled on the kang (heated brick bed)."

I was initially inclined to flirt with her, but my interest in the caregiver's background waned.

The ridge was quite high.

From the ridge, looking down on Heizhuang Village, dozens of dilapidated tile-roofed houses were scattered on the sunny slope.

After walking for a long, long time, we finally arrived.

I looked and saw a dilapidated house built on the shady slope, facing northwest.

Not good feng shui. Quite eerie.

A small open space was enclosed by a tattered fence in front of the house.

Empty flowerpots and vegetable jars were stuck upside down in the corner of the yard.

Every house in Heizhuang Village had dried chili peppers and dried corn hanging from their eaves. Only this house didn't.

The gate was also made of nailed-together fence, unlocked.

I pushed open the fence gate, entered the yard, and peered through the window. No one was inside.

The person who had led the way had already gone inside. Apparently, they didn't even lock it.

I followed her inside, looked around, and decided it was indeed unnecessary to buy a lock.

The room contained only a bare brick kang (heated brick bed), without even pillows or blankets.

At one end was a rammed earth stove with an old wood-fired pot on it, and a dirty old ladle hanging on the wall beside it.

Between the stove and the kang was a rotten wooden square table, dark and rickety.

She asked me, "What message are you taking him?"

I casually took down the dirty ladle and said, "I just want to borrow this ladle from his family."

She looked at me with suspicion.

I've lied since childhood, my words flowed effortlessly, and I could tell lies without stumbling.

She muttered to herself, "The old lady's probably gone mad again. She goes up the mountain every day."

Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine, and I pulled out a cigarette to force myself to calm down.

I asked, "Is this a difficult year for his mother?"

"His mother's zodiac sign this year… she's…" she calculated with her fingers. "It's not a difficult year."

I breathed a sigh of relief and lit a cigarette.

Her hands trembled, and the lighter's flame just would

n't light the cigarette in her mouth. She plopped down on the kang (heated brick bed), acting like she owned the place .

My cigarette finally lit.

She reached for it and took a satisfying puff.

I sat down next to her and asked, "Why did his mother go crazy?"

She said, "It's a long story. It all started with his father. Everyone in the village says his father was driven to his death by his mother."

I took another cigarette from the pack and asked, "Why?"

She said, "His mother was a womanizer. Everyone says she's a reincarnation of a weasel spirit. I heard she wears a red belt every year to ward off evil."

I jolted, and the cigarette I'd just taken fell to the ground.

She picked it up for me, lit it, and handed it to me.

I took it. She continued, "That didn't work. His mother still went out and flirted with men, especially young ones. His father heard about it, but didn't believe it at first. After hearing it so many times, he became suspicious. Later, he caught her red-handed. Later, his father died of anger. Later, his mother went mad. The old folks all say it's an illness, a kind of infatuation."

Outside the window,

it was getting dark.

Snowflakes began to fall silently again.

I was worried about my mother and had no heart to listen to her slow rambling.

I stubbed out my cigarette, got up, and said goodbye, "Sister-in-law, please sit down, I'll go back first."

She looked at me with a reluctant expression, like a female dog, and said softly, "Okay..."

I left the house with my old, dirty ladle in my hand and hurried down the mountain along the same route.

When I entered the village, everyone had lit their lamps.

Back at the small house where I had settled down, I asked the landlord as soon as I entered the courtyard, "Where is my wife?"

The landlord looked at me with a look of horror and said, "Your wife is still sleeping..."

I quickly rushed up the steps of the north room.

The landlord followed me in and said, "The kang (heated brick bed) in the west room collapsed. It can't be heated."

I didn't have time to pay him any attention.

Entering the north room, I saw my little rascal still fast asleep on the kang.

Feeling a little more at ease, I went over and lifted her up.

She squinted, rubbing her eyes, and said coquettishly, "Ugh! What are you doing?!"

I said, "Get up! Hurry up! Let's go back!"

She looked at me in alarm and said, "What happened to your hair?!"

I grabbed a mirror from the box and looked at myself—I was stunned!

My once-proud black hair had suddenly turned mostly white after just one afternoon.

The landlord beside me said quietly, "They say you only get this if you encounter something unclean. Where did you go?"

I gave a vague answer.

You tell me, which of the things I encountered this afternoon could be considered clean?

This world changes so fast.

The landlord asked, "Are you hungry? Tell us what you'd like for dinner."

While putting my son's shoes on, I replied, "We won't bother you anymore. We're heading back now."

The landlord laughed, "There are no trains at this hour. You two walk back? That's eighty li!"

I thought about it, and he was right.

In this desolate wilderness, taking a taxi? Good heavens!

The landlord said, "Your sister-in-law is making wild vegetable dumplings in the south room. They'll be ready soon."

He then leaned over the doorframe and called out to the south room, "Are the dumplings ready?"

I heard, "They're all cooking!"

Well, what's done is done. We'll talk about it tomorrow morning.

I said, "Okay. Then we'll bother you!"

The landlord laughed, "Look at you! You're being too polite! So fussy!"

I remained calm, using a smile to ease the tension.

The landlord pushed open the door and went out.

My son immediately hugged me and eagerly kissed my cheek.

I asked her, "Are you alright?"

She replied, "I'm fine here. Where did you go this afternoon?"

I said, "Oh, just wandering around."

She widened her eyes, puzzled, and asked, "Wandering around turned your hair all white?!"

I leaned close to her ear and whispered, "This area isn't clean, be careful everywhere."

The little slut was quite surprised and looked up, asking loudly, "Careful about what?"

At this moment, the landlord pushed open the door, carrying a plate of fried peanuts, a plate of stir-fried vegetables, and a bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor).

I quickly went over to take the bottle from him.

The landlord, the little slut, and I all took off our shoes, sat cross-legged, covered with blankets, next to the kang table.

Under the electric light, on the kang table, there was a plate of fried peanuts, a plate of stir-fried vegetables, and a bottle of Erguotou.

Dumplings and liquor, the more we drank, the more we wanted.

The landlord was very hospitable. Before I knew it, I was quite tipsy.

The landlord's wife quickly ate a few dumplings and claimed, "I'm full."

The little slut didn't eat many either, but echoed, "I'm full."

The two retreated to the west room of the north house.

The landlord and I continued drinking on the kang (heated brick bed).

When the landlord was also quite drunk, I suddenly asked, "What's Erguai's zodiac sign?"

The landlord was taken aback and asked, "How do you know him?"

I said, "What's his zodiac sign?"

The landlord said, "Maybe a tiger."

I casually said, "I heard his family has bad luck?"

The landlord said, "Hey, he's actually a nice guy. A few days ago I saw him carrying his wife down the mountain, saying they were going to the city for medical treatment."

"Wife"?!

I asked, "What's wrong with his wife?"

The landlord said, "She's mentally unstable."

I asked, "Is his mother alright?"

The landlord said, "His mother died a long time ago."

The woman who led me here, is this really the home of a male caregiver?

My brain is already a bit overloaded.

The landlord raised his glass and said, "Come on, let's have a drink."

"Clang!" Glasses clinked.

I put down my glass and asked, "Does he have an older sister?"

The landlord said, "He had an older sister, she was lame, and she died last year."

I was completely confused and asked, "Who's in charge of the village committee now?"

The landlord said, "Don't even mention it! The village committee disbanded a long time ago!"

I was stunned. The village committee disbanded? No way.

Even if it did, the village committee couldn't have disbanded.

The landlord slowly explained, "A few months ago, there was a murder here, and the village committee was involved, but their mediation failed.

After that, no one could stay in the village committee's yard anymore; it was always haunted by weasels." (Weasels?)

My head was spinning: "And then what happened?"

The landlord said, "Then the yard was sealed off."

I was stunned! Does anyone in this village tell the truth?

I was confused.

Is this "Second Lame" they're talking about the same person as the male caregiver?

Could his ID card be forged or something he found?

Dizzy and confused, the landlord and I got off the kang (heated brick bed), kicked open the door, and went outside. Standing on the steps, arm in arm, facing the courtyard, we each urinated a large amount.

While urinating, we howled and sang at the top of our lungs, "You are like a butterfly, flying into my window..."

The song soared into the frigid night sky.

After singing and urinating, we shivered and crawled into the west inner room of the north house (I still don't remember who helped whom).

I was really too drunk. I went to bed and lost consciousness.

In my sleep, I opened the door. The room was dimly lit, and a strong smell of alcohol hit me.

I entered and saw her leaning against the bed, masturbating, sucking on her pale, slender toes.

On a heavy table next to her was a bottle of baijiu (Chinese liquor), with only a sip left.

Next to it were two bottles of beer and two 30-centimeter-long egg white sausages.

I walked towards her. She glanced at me and continued masturbating.

I sat down, kissed her, and fondled her smooth, naked breasts.

She closed her eyes, parted her lips, and breathed heavily.

She was naked, hugging her right foot, sucking on her big toe with a smacking sound, as if sucking on a penis.

I kicked off my shoe and propped my right foot on the bed. She opened her eyes, her gaze cloudy, ignoring me.

I kicked her right foot away and shoved my right foot into her mouth. She hugged my right foot, took off her sock, and started sucking on her toes.

I stared at her coldly.

Outside, a blizzard was raging, yet her forehead was covered in sweat, her hair clumped together, sticking haphazardly to her head.

Could she have drunk so much liquor on an empty stomach?

Something wasn't right. The more I thought about it, the more uneasy I felt.

I sniffed the room warily with my wolf-like nose: another man had been here!

I tensed, pulled my right foot back, bent down, lifted the hem of the sheet, and scanned under the bed. No one was there.

I pinched her cheeks and interrogated her: "Who's been here?"

She was on the verge of collapse before orgasm, looking at me with glazed eyes, vigorously rubbing her erect clitoris, uttering incoherent sounds.

I parted her vagina and saw a scene that made me spasm: a large amount of semen, frothy, slowly flowed out of her vagina. The semen was thick and viscous, not yet fully liquefied.

I hadn't fucked her since we came here.

This slut was still in a daze. Masturbating in a daze.

She was possessed by a lustful demon.

Under my gaze, she used the wet tip of one finger to massage her moist anus in circles, like comforting a hungry baby's mouth.

Her little mouth moved, sucking on her finger, like a puppy sucking on a nipple before its eyes opened.

I flipped her over and made her lie face down in front of me, sticking her ass out at me.

She was very obedient, very sensual.

I shoved a piece of egg white sausage into her anus.

She writhed excitedly, her fingers flying across her vagina.

I pinched her nipple with my left hand, while my right hand, gripping my penis, mercilessly pounded into her anus.

*Smack! Smack! Glug glug... Smack! Smack! Glug glug...*

I said, “You bitch. You slutty bitch. You’re in heat.”

She nodded, closing her eyes.

Hearing my verbal abuse, her moans grew louder.

Soon, her moans ceased, her muscles tensed, her thighs stiffened for a moment, then suddenly began to tremble violently.

She couldn’t help but climax.

I matched her climax, pounding into her rectum even more brutally, an outrageous display of force and amplitude.

About twenty centimeters of my penis was inserted.

I saw her vagina was soaking wet, her vagina and fingers covered in sticky fluid, a complete mess.

She was covered in sweat, her white buttocks raised, her limbs limp, her face buried in the sheets and hair.

There wasn't a sound, just that hunched over, like a dead woman, like a female prisoner just executed.

She was drunk. She hadn't woken up at all.

I pulled out the egg white sausage. The surface of the egg white sausage was covered with some of the dregs and grime from her intestines.

I stood up. The scene was silent, except for my panting.

I woke up with a start, looked around, and the other three were all asleep.

Was that a dream?

Who was trying to send me a message?

Implying that my woman had been raped in this mountain village?

She wasn't drunk.

I was the one who was drunk.

I really couldn't understand.

My head was throbbing.

I drifted off to sleep again.

When I opened my eyes again, it seemed to be the middle of the night, and I heard groaning sounds next to me.

I became alert and looked around.

The four of us were sitting side by side on the large kang (heated brick bed).

To my left was the little slut, fast asleep, so soundly she wouldn't wake up even if she were sold.

To my right was the landlord, groaning as he fucked his wife.

I could vaguely see their large quilt swaying lewdly.

Their breathing quickened.

Two grunts.

The good thing was over.

The room returned to silence.

The landlady pushed the landlord over there.

The landlord immediately began snoring loudly.

The landlady lay quietly on her pillow, letting out a long sigh.

She was now lying next to me.

We were both sober.

I was mostly sober .

I could understand the unspoken message of that sigh: she hadn't reached climax.

I quietly, tentatively, reached my hand towards her.

I slipped it under the covers.

I touched her hand.

Her hand was soft and cold.

The moment her palm touched mine, she didn't resist, but immediately grasped it.

Was she trying to express understanding?

Or was she telling me not to move?

I ignored her, pulled my hand away, and continued upwards, upwards.

In this quiet winter night, my hand wandered, touching a respectable woman's bare arm.

I touched her armpit.

Her armpit was wet.

I touched her vagina.

Her vaginal opening was sticky, covered in her husband's semen. My fingers slipped into her freshly fucked, sticky vagina, finger-stimulating her.

She let out a barely audible moan.

She was tense. She

was uncomfortable. She was secretly enjoying it. She was ashamed. My penis was erect. I continued to masturbate her thirsty, wet vagina without much passion. I straddled her face, doing 69 with her, licking her sticky clitoris and vaginal opening, licking her husband's semen. Salty. Slightly alkaline. It was pungent. (pronounced lá) I licked and sucked her clitoris, my fingers inside vigorously ravaging her wet vagina, stimulating her G-spot. She thrust her hips against me, one thrust at a time. My fingers inside her vagina worked in tandem with my lips and tongue. I sucked hard on her clitoris, while my fingers fiercely dug into her G-spot. In a daze, I felt that the clitoris was actually the extension of the G-spot, and the G-spot was the root of the clitoris. Those who grope and rub indiscriminately are petty hooligans. Only those whose minds are armed with knowledge are true hooligans. My penis stood erect against her face. She parted her lips, silently took it in, and gently licked it. My fingers pressed harder, thrusting into her sticky vagina. I heard her nasal moans rise slightly. Perhaps unintentionally, perhaps intentionally (to encourage me). I knew she lay beside her husband, afraid to openly indulge in her lust. I buried my face in her clitoris and licked it. Her thighs spasmed, her stomach spasmed, causing her whole body to spasm! A silent climax. After the female beast's climax, her body relaxed, everywhere I touched was damp with sweat. I sucked on her clitoris, gently "chewing." The female beast's body immediately spasmed again, her buttocks arched, her thighs tightly clamping my face, trembling. In the darkness, in the silent snow-covered village, she reached climax again through infidelity. Still, it was silent. She trembled, her body convulsing, her wet vagina contracting, yet she dared not utter a sound. This particular situation provided extra stimulation. I knew I had given her two moments of secret pleasure. I released her clitoris, and two minutes later, I sucked it back into my mouth, "chewing" it heavily, while my fingers curled upwards inside her wet vagina, forcefully digging into her G-spot. Her wet vagina gripped my fingers tightly, so tightly. She tried desperately to suppress it, but still let out a loud groan during her orgasm. I was really afraid that her husband or my little slut would be awakened by her groan, so I quickly thrust my big cock into her throat. Thankfully, none of those who shouldn't have woken up did. I forcefully dug into her G-spot with my fingers. She moaned, contracting and convulsing. I lifted the covers and smelled the unique musky scent of a respectable woman. I straddled her, lifted her thighs, and spread her buttocks. She pushed my face and my shoulders away, still not saying a word. But my cock was already inside. It felt so good! Her vulva was wet, damp, and slippery. Inside, it was even wetter, damp, and slippery. The steel rod went in; the die was cast. She sighed deeply and hugged me tightly. My face was pressed against hers. I tried to kiss her. She pulled away. She was a repressed slut. My cock fiercely and stubbornly fucked her slippery, horny vulva. Her waist trembled softly like a mollusk. I liked this kind of innocent girl. I fucked her vulva even more fiercely. Suddenly, she lost control and let out a strange cry. I quickly lay down, simultaneously pressing my hand to her mouth, holding it tightly. In the darkness, her husband groggily turned over, got out of bed naked, and squatted on the enamel chamber pot, urinating. His little slut was still drooling, sleeping peacefully like a baby. I positioned myself on my side and fucked the landlady, keeping her mouth firmly pressed down. The landlady finished urinating, groggily got into bed. Before she was even properly positioned, snoring had already begun. Startled and frightened, my penis was half-erect, already withdrawn from the game. Plus, I'd already ejaculated into that old cunt during the day, and then there was the mountain ridge crossing; I was truly exhausted. My eyelids closed without me even realizing it. In the darkness, I felt a woman's hand lovingly caressing my face. I was too sleepy to keep my eyes open. I thought it was my landlady. She was on top of me, her hair tickling my face. I felt my penis, straight and hard, rubbing back and forth in a warm, wet cavity. A perfect piston. I heard my landlady's soft breathing. It was a sound only the two of us could hear. It was a silent communication just between the two of us. I grasped her swaying breasts with both hands. I tried to kiss her face. But she always skillfully dodged. I released her soft breasts and forcefully spread her buttocks apart. She moved faster. My right middle finger gently touched her anus. She trembled all over.

I stuffed my right middle finger into her hot mouth, coating it with her sticky saliva, and returned to her anus, gently rubbing it in circles.

In the darkness, she tried her best to suppress her moans, thrusting her ass against my penis.

I felt her anus finally relax.

I began to thrust my hips upwards.

She quickly collapsed, her disheveled hair scattering across my face.

Ignoring her hair, I desperately spread her buttocks and thrust my right middle finger into her anus.

She trembled all over.

I felt her vagina contracting with my penis.

Her anus contracted at the same frequency, clamping down on my middle finger.

I knew she had reached orgasm again.

After a long while, I withdrew my wet penis and put my right middle finger in her mouth.

She took my middle finger in her mouth, sucking on it, and quickly fell asleep.

Throughout, the landlady didn't say a word to me.

Amidst the different snoring of the three people around me, I tossed and turned in despair.

Only when I saw the first light of dawn breaking through the window did I close my eyes.

I had just closed my eyes when I felt the landlady silently arch her back, gazing at me with loving tenderness.

I was so sleepy I couldn't stay awake any longer, so

I pretended to be asleep. Pretending to be asleep, I really drifted off.

Then I felt warm lips press against mine.

The landlady was kissing me.

The moment our lips met, I immediately felt her putting something hard in my mouth.

I quickly took it in and continued kissing her.

But I couldn't reach her lips; I could only kiss her long, messy hair.

Messy hair…

the long, messy hair made my face tingle.

I suddenly opened my eyes and saw that Little Sao Sao was awake, lying on my face, her long hair teasing my nose, tickling me.

Looking around, it was bright daylight.

The landlady and her wife weren't on the kang (heated brick bed).

I hugged Little Sao Sao tightly, kissing her cheeks and lips.

Suddenly, I felt something strange in my mouth.

Little Sao Sao suddenly straightened up, looking towards the door.

The door opened.

A gust of cold wind rushed in.

I looked up. The landlord brought in breakfast.

Little Sao Sao quickly got dressed and got out of bed.

While I was doing this, I spat out what was in my mouth and looked at it. It was a small piece of jade, with a few words vaguely engraved on it.

Before I could see it clearly, I heard the landlord's loud voice say, "Brother, we didn't have enough fun last night. Why don't you stay another day?"

Remembering the dreamlike scene from last night, I quickly tucked the jade away, mumbled something, and got dressed.

After breakfast, I paid the rent and food, and then took Little Sao Sao and said goodbye to the landlord.

We had only walked about twenty meters from the small courtyard when I heard a "whoosh—" behind me and

turned around in surprise. A cow had bumped into my waist.

I quickly dodged and saw the man who had herded the cow yesterday, with half a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

I turned back again.

Where was the courtyard? Only broken bricks and tiles.

Little Sao Sao grabbed my arm in a panic.

I panicked, forgetting to offer him another cigarette, and asked the man, "What...what happened to this house?"

The man said, "Oh, you're asking about this house? They were all wiped out last year."

Hearing that, my legs went weak.

So, I slept with a female ghost last night?

What was our breakfast made of?

My little slut was convulsing, kneeling on the snowdrift beside me, vomiting violently in a fan-shaped spray.

The man asked me, "Why do you keep asking me about these unlucky houses?"

I grabbed his sleeve tightly.

This time, I wouldn't let him escape!

Could this be a wise man? Someone from above to enlighten me?

I asked, "Tell me, what exactly happened to this family?"

The man said, "The two sons went astray, stole melons, got caught, and even chopped someone up. Their enemies came in a hundred or so men, three trucks in total, and chopped the whole family to pieces. Afterwards, the house was haunted by a vengeful spirit. The village committee sealed it off, but that didn't work. So they put up a monument at the entrance, chained it up, and sprinkled realgar around the yard several times.

Wait, what?! The monument fell down? The chain broke? They're going to cause trouble again these next few days!"

My heart pounded even harder; even the man's face looked increasingly sinister.

How could I be sure this "expert" wasn't some kind of incarnation of a demon?

The woman who led the way, the male caregiver, the cattle herder, my landlord—who was telling the truth?

I quickly stuffed the remaining half-pack of cigarettes into his hand and dragged my little girl straight to the train station. Once

on the train, my little girl quickly fell asleep.

I wondered: What's she doing here? Why is she so sleepy? She seems perpetually sleepy?

Could she be possessed by some spirit?

What happened while I wasn't around?

The woman who led the way was strange too.

She sat on the kang (heated brick bed) and wouldn't leave. How did she know Erguai's house so well?

Why didn't anyone else dare go there?

Was the person I slept with in the toilet Erguai's mother?

Is she dead or not?

How is my mother now?

Was that male caregiver actually Erguai? Is it

his sister or his mother who went mad? Was the person

he carried into the city his mother, his sister, or his wife?

What will he do to my mother now?

A series of questions remained unanswered.

My mind was in turmoil.

The scenery rushing past the window became monotonous after a while.

I reached into my pocket, intending to take out a cigarette, but my fingers touched a cool piece of jade.

I pulled it out and saw it was a small Pixiu pendant with two seal characters engraved on it: "Bixie" (warding off evil).

Why did the landlady spit this talisman into my hands?

Could I be facing some kind of bloodshed?

Who is telling the truth in Heizhuangtun?

Back at my mom's.

Little Sassy came in and said, "Auntie! We're back!"

My mom was watching TV on the sofa and replied, "Oh. How did the business go?"

Little Sassy, changing into her slippers, answered, "My older brother took me out to play."

My mom looked at me, puzzled.

I didn't even bother changing my slippers; I rushed to my mom and hugged her tightly.

I smelled the familiar scent of her hair, touched it, and looked at her. Nothing had changed.

I felt a little relieved.

My mom asked, "What happened to your hair? Why is it so white?"

I said I dyed it.

My mom grumbled, "Black hair looks so much better. Why dye such a good-looking guy white?"

I put the old, dirty ladle on the coffee table and coldly observed the male caregiver.

He was scrubbing the floor.

Little Sassy, having changed her shoes, skipped and hopped towards my mom, saying, "There's something really weird about Heizhuang Village!"

The male caregiver shuddered at the mention of it.

I said to him, "Come here for a moment,"

and walked towards the kitchen.

He followed me into the kitchen.

I suddenly turned around, grabbed his collar, twisted it clockwise, and pressed my middle finger firmly against his throat.

His airway immediately constricted, and his face turned red.

I pinned him against the doorframe with one hand, staring into his eyes and asking, "Who are you?!"

To be continued...

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