An incest story I heard 4

He was half asleep, unsure if he'd actually fallen asleep, when the alarm rang. He quietly got up, washed his face, and called out to his mother from the doorway. There was no reply from inside. Fearing something might have happened, he pushed open the door to check on her. His mother was lying on the bed in her pajamas, staring blankly at the ceiling, not looking at him or saying anything. He sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Mom, I'm sorry." His mother didn't respond, just kept staring at the ceiling. After a while, she waved her hand at him. He left the room and went to work,
not knowing how he'd spent the day. When he came home from work, he wanted to go home but was afraid to, because he didn't know how to face his mother's eyes. He could have gotten home quickly, but it took him almost an hour, stopping and starting along the way. He weakly pushed open the door and saw his mother had already prepared dinner and washed his clothes. His torn underwear was gone; his mother must have thrown it away. Seeing him return, his mother said, "Why are you so late today?" He said he'd run into an acquaintance on the way and chatted for a while. His mother said, "Wash your hands and eat." They ate in silence and watched TV together, watching aimlessly. Then his mother said, "XX (his nickname), find a girlfriend. You're not a kid anymore. It's not all because of last night." He nodded. Then his mother continued, "Your father will be back in a few days. Don't let him sense anything." He nodded again. After watching TV for a while, his mother went to bed. This time, he heard the door lock. He said he felt a pang of loss, maybe distrust, or perhaps abandonment; whatever it was, he felt uneasy. He watched absentmindedly for a while and then fell asleep.
Two weeks passed peacefully. He said he didn't know how he got through those two weeks; at home he wanted to go to work, at work he wanted to go home, but going home felt awkward. Dad came home, and his feelings were inexplicably complicated. He was annoyed, scared, ashamed, and excited, but not happy. When he saw Dad, he tried his best to pretend to be happy and chat with him. Fortunately, Dad didn't notice anything. After dinner, they chatted for a while and then he went to sleep.
But could he fall asleep? Hearing his father turn off the living room light and then close his bedroom door after showering, he quietly opened his own door a crack. He was afraid his mother would tell his father, yet he also wanted to know what would happen to them. He just wanted to know how his parents would react. Unable to stay in bed, he stood up and gently opened the door a crack. Seeing the light on in his parents' room, he didn't dare move. He kept shifting between standing, sitting, lying down, and getting up again. After a while, the light in his parents' room was turned off. He quietly walked to the living room, then back again, really wanting to go to the door, but afraid of being seen by either of them. He went back and forth like this several times. Suddenly, he heard his parents' bed creak twice. His heart started pounding. Finally, he made up his mind and went to his parents' bedroom door, holding his breath. There was no sound from inside. A little disappointed and dejected, he was about to go back to his room when he heard voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. They said a few words, and then the bed creaked again... The soft, slow slapping sounds and his mother's panting instantly aroused him. He began to masturbate, his heart filled with mixed emotions, even a hint of resentment towards his father. After ten or twenty minutes, his mother's panting punctuated by a few groans, followed by a brief silence. Then the bed creaked again, this time with a noticeably faster slapping sound. Within two minutes, it was completely quiet. He stood there, his mind blank, until a snap, and the light in his parents' room turned on. He knew they were done and quickly and quietly returned to his own room. But the feeling of impending doom was overwhelming; he couldn't calm down. Every now and then, he would open the door to check on his parents' room until the light went out again. Then he got up, went to the bathroom, found his mother's underwear, and took it back to his room. For some reason, he deliberately flushed the toilet, making a noise. Later, after he became more familiar with his mother, she told him she knew he had done it on purpose. He took the underwear back to his room and masturbated until he ejaculated onto it before he calmed down. He
then put his mother's underwear under his pillow and fell asleep. When he came home from work the next day, he saw that his mother's underwear, which she had put under her pillow the night before, had been washed and hung up to dry, but she didn't say anything. His father had been home for a week, and he had been listening in almost every day, probably doing it three or four nights in a row. Because his mother hadn't washed her underwear at night since she had to wash other underwear the next day, he said he felt particularly frustrated, helpless, and excited during those days, so he would ejaculate himself every time he listened. Sometimes he would put his mother's underwear back, and sometimes he would forget to put it back, but his mother never said anything. After he went to work, she would go to his room to find it and wash it herself. I asked if he and his father didn't have any normal communication. He said they did, very normally, like when they went to his grandmother's house, or when his father ate with old friends. In short, apart from his and his mother's affair, everything at home was normal.
Dad was going back to work again. The loss of family ties and the inexplicable anticipation tormented him for a few more days. When he came back that afternoon, he chatted with Mom while eating. The awkwardness had lessened considerably. Mom asked him if he had a girl he liked. He said no, and then casually added, "If you're going to find someone, find someone like me, otherwise don't bother." Mom lowered her head and didn't say anything. After a while, she said, "You have to settle down eventually. Don't delay, or good girls will be snatched up by someone else." Everything was normal and peaceful. After dinner, Mom cleaned up and went to do laundry. She called him from the bathroom. When he went over, Mom turned around and said, "Get my red underwear for me." He blushed slightly, went back to his room, and brought it back. Mom took it and, while washing the clothes, softly said, "What's wrong with you?" After
Dad left, Mom changed a little, though not much, but he could sense it. For example, she no longer deliberately avoided him, and she no longer locked the door before going to bed. Of course, she also didn't intentionally show anything. It felt like life had returned to normal.
One day, after his mother finished showering, she came out wearing a towel and said to him, "Don't stay up too late, I'm going to sleep." She then went into her room, but this time she didn't lock the door. The repression and torment of the past month had made him restless. He watched his mother's snow-white breasts and thighs enter the room, and immediately felt aroused, becoming erect. He idly flipped through the TV channels, glancing at his mother's room every now and then; the light was still on. Finally, he stood up again, walked to his mother's door, took a few deep breaths, and gently pushed it open. He saw his mother sitting naked on the edge of the bed, drying her feet, her raised leg just... He could see her genitals. Mom looked up and saw him come in, paused slightly, and said, "Why are you here? Go back to sleep." He seemed not to hear her and slowly walked to her side, half-taking, half-grabbing the towel. His breathing quickened as he said, "I'll dry you, Mom." Mom backed away, saying, "Don't wipe me," and placed her other, unwashed foot on the bed. He squatted by the bed, grabbed one of her ankles, and haphazardly wiped it, his eyes fixed on her genitals. Seeing this, Mom pulled the sheet over herself and turned off the light, but outside light still shone in. In the dim light, his mother's snow-white body drove him to madness once more. He stopped drying his feet, threw away the towel, took off his pants and shirt, and got into bed. His mother, naked, kept backing away until she was sitting against the bedside table, unable to move any further. She could only sit there, staring at him. He climbed onto the bed, pulled off the sheet covering his mother, wrapped one arm around her neck and the other around her thigh, and lifted her up, laying her flat on the bed. His mother's snow-white body was completely in front of him. His mother instinctively squeezed her legs together, but he didn't care. He simply lay down on top of her. The mother turned her head to the window, staring blankly out the window, and softly murmured, "We're committing a sin." She then stopped moving. In the dim light outside, he took off his only underwear and straddled her, pinning her beneath him. He freed one hand and began to stroke her stomach downwards. This time, the mother didn't resist, letting him touch her. He touched her...it was wet and slippery. When he touched her clitoris, she trembled and let out a soft moan. Then, she subtly parted her legs. Although the movement was gentle, he could feel it. Seeing this, he climbed on top of her and penetrated her. It was very wet and slippery, and it went in very smoothly. His mother breathed softly. He put one arm around her neck and began to caress her breasts with the other. After a while, his mother started to wet herself and gently wrapped her arms around his waist, turning her head to look at him. This lessened his guilt somewhat, but his mother closed her eyes after a short while. He leaned down and began to thrust. "It's hard to get out of the abyss of desire," he thought. "My mother is human too, but what's the difference between a person without morality and a beast?" (his exact words). He thrust for a while, feeling his mother beneath him... He gently wiggled his hips a few times, initially thinking the position was uncomfortable. He leaned forward to let his mother adjust her body, but instead, she pressed his waist firmly inward and said, "Don't rush, take it slow." Completely reassured, he began to thrust wildly. His mother again said, "Don't rush, why the rush?" Actually, at that time, he had no technique, only knowing how to thrust. At this moment, his mother's desire also arose. She moved her hands around his hips, and he understood her meaning, clumsily swaying his body from side to side. He said that looking back now, it was... He masturbated frequently, but didn't ejaculate quickly. He continued thrusting for an unknown amount of time. His mother became increasingly wet, panting as she reached orgasm. The contractions made him feel like he was flying, a feeling he'd never experienced with his wife (his exact words). He ejaculated, collapsing onto his mother. Neither of them moved until he came down. His mother grabbed some tissues to wipe herself, and only then did he say, "Get off." He rolled off and lay down. His mother got up and sat on the bed, wiping herself for a while, then used some tissues to go to the bathroom. After washing up, she returned to lie down. For a long time, neither of them spoke. His mother spoke first, "I knew you were stealing my underwear because I noticed they'd been moved while I was hanging them out to dry. It's just the two of us at home, but I didn't know how to warn you. I thought you'd gradually change, but I didn't expect we both to do wrong. Actually, the first night your dad came back, I felt you at the door, even though there was no sound. The sound of you flushing the toilet later proved my feeling was right. If Dad had found out then, our family would be finished. He didn't dare say anything." Finally, his mother said, "Go back to your room and sleep." (Later update: His mother's initiative)

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An incest story I heard 4

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