My Love Story with My Mother 2 (reprinted)

Children from single-parent families, especially boys living with their mothers, often develop an Oedipus complex to some extent. However, at that time, I was only curious about women's bodies; I hadn't yet reached the point of wanting to have sex with my mother.

My mother was the closest to me, so I was curious about her body; after all, she's a woman too. But honestly, none of my female classmates at school could compare to her. She was very tall, 168 cm, and even taller than me in heels, since I hadn't fully grown at that time.

My mother is tall and voluptuous, especially her breasts, which are really big. Whenever she walks, her breasts, covered by her clothes, sway up and down with her steps.

Later I learned that my mother's breasts were actually a G-cup, weighing 38g. You can imagine how big they were. Firstly, my mother had a naturally good figure and large breasts. Secondly, she knew about health and wellness, and knew breast enhancement massage techniques, so she regularly took care of herself. Therefore, her breasts were large, and their shape was more attractive than those of her female classmates at school. Her classmates' breasts were like small pigeons, while my mother's breasts were like ripe peaches—they really tasted different!

My family originally owned a house, but it was just a brick house in a small town. After my parents divorced, my mother never went back to live there. She opened a clinic in the city to earn money while accompanying my child to school. So the clinic was where we bought medicine and practiced medicine, and it was also where my mother and I lived.

The shop was a small two-story building. The first floor was larger, where my mother bought medicine and gave injections. The first floor was divided into three rooms. There was a large space at the entrance with a desk and shelves for selling medicine on both sides. At the back was an even larger room with several single beds and sofas, which was where patients received IV drips.

Then there was another, smaller room, but my mother wouldn't let me go in. The door to that room was also locked, which made me quite curious. The second floor was where my mother and I lived. Because the shop next door had a very small first floor, which was just for reception, and the second floor was the main business area, most of the space on the second floor was taken up by the shop next door, making the second floor of our clinic very, very small.

After going up the stairs, there was a spacious area without partitions. There was a large bed by the window, where my mother and I slept. Next to the window on the other side was the kitchen, where we cooked, and a dining table in the middle. The total area of the second floor was no more than 40 square meters, so besides the table and kitchen, there was only enough space for this one large bed, which meant my mother and I had to squeeze onto.

After all, the beds on the first floor are for patients, and they don't belong to you. If there's any partition in the living area on the second floor, it's a curtain next to the bed, separating the bed from the kitchen and the stairs.

My mother has a very full figure. She is not too thin, but not fat either. After all, she has given birth. She is just right. Her curves are perfect and she exudes a mature charm. She is very elegant.

Perhaps it's a case of loving the house because of the house, but my mother is the closest person to me, so I think her figure is better than my classmates', and her face is also very beautiful. Maybe it's true that a child doesn't despise their mother for being ugly, but even to outsiders, my mother deserves the word "beautiful".

If my mother had stayed in the city, she could definitely have found a good family. It's just a pity... She chose to get married at the best age and gave birth to me at the best age. My mother has said this more than once. It can be said that marriage and I have delayed and occupied the best years of my mother's life.

Because the space on the second floor is limited, my mother and I slept in the same big bed, but we were covered by two separate blankets. We didn't share a blanket; I slept on the inside of the bed, and my mother slept on the outside so that it would be convenient for her to get out of bed to cook for me or something.

I used to be quite naive. After going to bed, I would sleep soundly until dawn, and then my mother would start cooking for me. I would then ride my bicycle to school.

But ever since I learned about matters between men and women, I've paid much more attention to my mother. However, my mother's clothing is still quite conservative. Even when she sleeps at night, she wears long-sleeved pajamas and pants, with the collar buttoned all the way up to her neck. She also wears a bra underneath, so you can only clearly see the curves of her breasts; you can't see anything else at all.

Even when my mother changes clothes, she waits until I'm asleep or goes behind the curtain to change. She never changes clothes when I'm awake.

My mother is quite conservative in her thinking and adheres to traditional virtues. Even after her divorce from my father, she didn't have any bad reputation or scandals. Although my mother runs a clinic by herself, most of her patients are women. I also have relatives in the city, and my aunt and uncle often come to the clinic to help out. So, even though my mother is single, no one dares to make a move on her.

Although I'm still young, I understand ethics and morality. While I'm curious about my mother's body, I absolutely have no thoughts of having sex with her. Even the slightest thought of that makes me feel uncomfortable. My curiosity about my mother is just the same as my usual curiosity about women's bodies. So, after having this thought, I couldn't help but pay attention to her. At night, when I slept with my mother, I deliberately stayed up late, pretending to be asleep, just so I could see her changing clothes. I can honestly say I don't think I've ever seen my mother's breasts, although I drank her milk when I was little, but I don't remember that time.

For the first few days, I didn't see it at all, because after I lay in bed pretending to be asleep for a while, my mother would also go to bed. For the first week, I didn't see my mother change her clothes at all.

Even when my mother changed clothes a few times, she always did so in the kitchen behind the curtain, and I never saw her. After all, while the curtain is a partition, it's not very soundproof; if I got out of bed, no matter how careful I was, my mother would hear me. My mother is quite mindful of my upbringing, so she never dresses provocatively in front of me.

What truly changed my mindset were my several experiences of secretly going online. There was an internet cafe in the city where my classmates often went. But I never went because my mother told me that going online would affect my studies, and I was a good kid, so I never tried it.

One day, unable to resist my curiosity any longer, I went to an internet cafe with my classmates. At that time, internet security and monitoring were not very strict, so it was easy to access some pornographic websites with many sensitive images.

With the help of my classmates, I saw a mature woman's vagina and an adult man's penis for the first time on the computer in the internet cafe. When I saw the picture of an adult man's penis being inserted into a woman's vagina, I was stunned for a long time. My penis immediately became hard and a lot of sticky fluid leaked out, wetting my underwear.

At the same time, I learned to masturbate from my classmates. The moment I ejaculated for the first time, the tingling sensation made me feel like I was floating in the air. That stimulating and pleasurable feeling is unforgettable. From that moment on, I became fond of masturbation and sex, and my curiosity and desire for women reached their peak. It can be said that internet cafes, dormitories, and classmates completely corrupted me. From that time on, I had erotic dreams many nights, and I also started experiencing nocturnal emissions during puberty. There were also white stains on the pockets of my underwear, those were traces of my spilled semen. I can't forget the scene that day, when my mother asked me to change my underwear as usual, and the expression on her face when she held my underwear.

My clothes are always washed by my mother. That morning, as usual, my mother gave me a pair of underwear to change into. Then my mother went to the kitchen, where there was a curtain separating us. I changed my underwear myself, and after a while, my mother came in and took the underwear away.

This time, after my mother received my underwear, she habitually glanced at how dirty it was. When she saw the white stains on the underwear, her eyes widened in surprise. She stared blankly at the white stains on the pocket, a hint of unease flashing in her eyes.

"My son has grown up..."
My mother reacted quickly, then smiled and said something to me before turning around and throwing the underwear into the bathroom. I could see embarrassment and awkwardness in her eyes, but nothing else. There was another bathroom upstairs, with a toilet, an old-fashioned twin-tub washing machine, a washbasin area, and an old-fashioned water heater.

Hearing my mother's words made me feel slightly shy, but my relationship with her remained perfectly normal. What truly made me develop feelings for her was a website I stumbled upon in an internet cafe much later. It was a very basic webpage, which I found by chance, filled with novels and articles.

One of the sections was called "Don't let the good stuff go to outsiders," and I clicked on it out of curiosity. I found that it was full of incest novels, and most of them were about mothers and sons.

The thought of sex between a mother and son still evoked a sense of revulsion and discomfort. But curiosity killed the cat, and that saying is absolutely true. Driven by curiosity, I clicked on the link and began browsing the articles with a mixture of revulsion and curiosity. For some reason, despite my initial urgency, the moment I started reading, I was deeply captivated by the content. My breathing quickened, and my penis became erect. After finishing the article, I had to run to the bathroom, pull down my pants, and use toilet paper to wipe my penis and underwear...

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My Love Story with My Mother 2 (reprinted)

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