Chapter 1: Corrupted Family Affection - Sleeping with and Playing with Mother (Revised)

Our family lived in a row of old houses near the suburbs. My father worked in an administrative agency at the time, and most of our neighbors were colleagues from the same unit. We knew each other well and had close relationships.

My mother, Li Meiru, is a manager at a company cafeteria. She is warm and capable, and she manages the household very well.

We live on the first floor, in a three-bedroom, one-living room layout. The living room connects to my parents’ bedroom and the balcony, while I live alone in a small room in the corner.

Back then, the neighborhood was safe and secure. Most of the residents were employees and their families from my father’s workplace. We were neighbors watching out for each other, so we were always safe. We never installed security windows or burglar bars in our house, and we often left the windows open at night for ventilation.

My mother was plump, gentle, and beautiful, with a natural air of composure in every gesture. I had always harbored sexual fantasies about her, and I often spied on my parents making love.

My mother pays special attention to her health and practices a rhythmic exercise routine every night before bed.

In those years, this kind of fitness method was very popular, and many housewives learned the movements by watching TV, which was both good for their bodies and for their mood.

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Rhythmic gymnastics features graceful and powerful movements, emphasizing body coordination and proper posture, which is especially beneficial for postpartum recovery.

My mother insisted on practicing every day. Although her movements were not professional, they were still standard and accurate, and every move showed her seriousness and self-discipline.

It was a Friday night. My father was on duty and hadn’t come home yet, so it was just my mother and me at home.

I woke up in the middle of the night and got up to go to the bathroom. As I passed through the living room, the TV was on, and on the screen, an elegant female coach was demonstrating a movement, gentle yet powerful.

Meanwhile, in front of the television, Mom was diligently practicing along with the rhythm.

She was wearing loose sportswear, her movements were fluid, and her body was outlined with soft lines under the light.

At that moment, I stopped in my tracks, my gaze involuntarily fixed on her—not because I was amazed by her beauty, but because her focused and disciplined figure, in the quiet night, exuded a solemnity and beauty rarely found in ordinary life.

I stood silently by the door, not uttering a sound, just watching quietly, when a strange, indescribable feeling welled up inside me.

I saw my mother following the fitness instructions on TV with a serious expression. Beneath her slender, willow-leaf eyebrows, a pair of long, thick eyelashes fluttered gently with her large, watery eyes, as if they were about to drip with seductive charm. Fine beads of sweat glistened on her snow-white cheeks under the light, and her cherry-like, delicate red lips were slightly parted, emitting soft and alluring moans.

The flush from exercise spread from her cheeks to her slender neck, making her already fair and smooth skin, like solidified cream, even more alluring.

Looking at her alluring demeanor, I couldn’t help but fantasize in my mind about possessing this charming beauty in bed. I imagined how her seductive eyes would be mesmerizing, and what kind of enchanting moans her little mouth would utter. My penis was already so hard it hurt, and a small tent was erected through my pants.

Moving my gaze downwards, I saw that my mother was wearing a white, tight-fitting shirt that was clearly a size too small. The shirt was supposed to be loose, but it was stretched taut by her large, full 38E breasts. The thin fabric was almost torn apart by her bowl-shaped breasts, and the outline of her breasts was clearly visible. I could even vaguely see two already erect nipples sticking out as two tempting little points under the fabric.

Her large breasts swayed violently with her movements, the waves of milk rolling and full of vitality. They showed no signs of sagging that one would expect from a woman in her thirties. Instead, they were as perky and full as a young girl’s, full of elasticity and allure, as if they were about to spring out of her shirt at any moment. One couldn’t help but want to reach out and knead those soft yet firm breasts, feeling the ultimate pleasure of sinking one’s fingertips into the flesh.

Further down, in stark contrast to her ample breasts, was her slender, supple waist. Her waist was so thin it could be grasped in one hand, yet it displayed astonishing flexibility as she twisted. Her waist swayed like a water snake, and with each twist, the hem of her shirt would roll up slightly, revealing a glimpse of her snow-white, flat abdomen and the faint outline of her abs.

Immediately, I pictured her on the bed, pinned beneath me, her supple waist able to assume all sorts of difficult positions—raising her plump buttocks to meet my thrusts, or wrapping her legs around my waist, her waist twisting wildly, bringing me an ecstatic pleasure.

Thinking of this, my penis became even harder, and thick pre-ejaculate fluid seeped from the glans, soaking my underwear.

Further down, there were those captivatingly large buttocks. Mom was wearing a pair of soft, light pink jogger pants that tightly hugged her round, perky, and plump buttocks. The fabric was so thin it was almost transparent, clinging tightly to her buttocks and perfectly outlining the two plump, pink mounds. Even through the pants, you could feel the softness, elasticity, and amazing touch of her buttocks. Her perky buttocks swayed from side to side with her hip movements, creating waves that were breathtaking and seemed to be silently inviting a man to penetrate her from behind and feel the ultimate tightness of her tight anus or moist honey hole being filled with a penis.

I can even imagine how those snow-white, plump buttocks would tremble if I peeled back those thin rhythm pants, and how those pink anus and already moist slits would be exposed to the air, waiting for my violation.

Beneath her pink buttocks were a pair of long, straight, beautiful legs, firm and rounded yet full of flesh, making her 1.65-meter height appear even taller and more slender. Although they were covered by joggers, her leg shape was flawless, with full thighs and well-proportioned calves. Every leg press made the flesh at the base of her thighs taut, and the outline of her hunched toes could be vaguely seen in the crotch area. That mysterious triangle area seemed to have already begun to get wet, with a little water stain showing through the fabric.

I recalled the sight of my mother’s bare legs that I had secretly seen before—those legs were smooth and hairless, with skin as delicate as silk. When she wore black lace stockings, they were even more lewd. Her toes, encased in stockings, were crystal clear and adorable, with high insteps and perfect arches. She was simply the perfect object for foot fetish.

Following the instructions on TV, my mother straightened her chest, twisted her waist, swayed her hips, and stretched her legs, performing one move after another that was fatally seductive to men. Her voluptuous and mature body curves were faintly visible under the light, coupled with her good looks and her serious yet unintentionally seductive expression, it was hard not to arouse my long-hidden lust.

Back in my room, I tossed and turned in bed, my thoughts racing, unable to fall asleep.

The night outside the window was deep and silent, except for the pounding of my heart in my chest, pounding against my ribs with muffled sounds.

At midnight, I could no longer suppress the forbidden impulse within me. My fingertips trembled as I gently pushed open the door to my mother’s bedroom.

A waft of air, a blend of her gentle body fragrance and the faint scent of her sweat, filled the small bedroom. The rich aroma lingered and permeated the space, like the most potent aphrodisiac, instantly stimulating every taut nerve, leaving me parched and my blood rushing.

I carefully and quietly slipped into my mother’s room, moving as gently as a cat stealing food.

The night was as dark as ink, and the faint moonlight filtering through the window cast a hazy silver glow over the room.

In the dim light, I held my breath and greedily cast my gaze upon the large double bed.

My mother’s shapely figure was lying peacefully on the bed, wearing only a thin, light purple silk nightgown. The soft, smooth fabric could not conceal her voluptuous and mature curves.

The nightgown clung tightly to her full hips, forming an extremely alluring curve, every inch exuding the ultimate charm of a mature woman.

Her long, voluptuous thighs were faintly visible beneath her silk skirt, rising and falling gently with her even, shallow breaths, like a calm lake surface that concealed an unfathomable allure.

I almost completely held my breath, my heart pounding wildly in my chest, as if it were about to burst out of my chest at any moment.

I tiptoed to the bedside and finally knelt on the cold floor, looking up at the most important and most forbidden woman in my life with an almost pious posture.

From this angle, her figure appears even taller and more imposing, yet it also reveals a contradictory beauty that combines sanctity and debauchery.

That forbidden temptation made my blood boil, and every cell in my body clamored to possess her.

I leaned closer and gently buried my face in my mother’s soft, waterfall-like black hair, greedily inhaling her body fragrance that haunted my dreams.

It was a scent unique to mothers, a blend of the fragrance of shampoo and the hormonal aroma emanating from deep within her skin—gentle, mellow, and with a subtle, alluring sweetness characteristic of mature women.

This aura, like invisible threads, tightly bound me, causing me to completely succumb.

My lips gently touched her smooth, warm forehead, then slowly moved down, gliding over her closed eyelids, kissing her long, thick eyelashes.

Then, my kiss lingered on her full, slightly parted lips.

Her lips were soft and warm, with shallow breaths. Every gentle touch sent jolts through my body like an electric current, making me tremble.

That moist and supple touch made me imagine her soft tongue swirling around in my mouth, and my lower abdomen suddenly tightened, a primal desire surging violently within me.

My heart was pounding violently in my chest, the sound unusually clear in the silent room, as if it were about to break free from the confines of my ribs.

I followed my mother’s graceful curves downwards, my gaze greedily sweeping over her long, fair neck, where the clearly visible blue veins looked especially alluring in the moonlight.

Further down, there are her delicate collarbones, like two butterflies about to take flight.

Then there were her large, round, and full breasts, faintly visible beneath her silk nightgown. They rose and fell gently with her breath, like two ripe peaches. Even through the thin fabric, one could feel their abundant elasticity and heavy weight.

Every inch of her skin radiated an alluring glow, as if silently inviting my touch.

I dared not go any further, afraid that my breathing and my desire would awaken her, awaken this sleeping beauty.

However, my penis had already become erect and hard without my realizing it, pressing against my lower abdomen painfully through the fabric of my jeans—a kind of unbearable throbbing pain.

I quickly withdrew my hand, suppressing the urge deep within me to lift her skirt and take her right there.

I picked up a flesh-colored stocking that my mother had taken off from a very hidden corner by the bed.

The stockings still carried her alluring scent, a unique aroma that blended sweat, body heat, and the distinctive fibers of the stockings, making my heart flutter.

I carefully, as if handling a precious jewel, slipped it onto her slender, fair left hand.

My mother’s fingers were slender and delicate, and now, tightly wrapped in these flesh-colored stockings, they appeared both powerless and submissive, like a fine piece of porcelain being played with at my whim.

The edge of the stockings clung tightly to the delicate skin of her wrist, presenting an ultimate visual allure.

I held her delicate hand, encased in stockings, and felt an indescribable, slightly wicked pleasure, as if I were wearing her most intimate garment on her purest part, and then using it to defile my own body.

I slowly inserted my already thick, hard, and erect penis, with bulging veins, into her grasp.

Her soft fingers, even through the thin flesh-colored stockings, could still clearly feel my burning heat and thick size, tightly enveloping my glans.

The silky smooth touch, combined with the warmth of her palm, sent shivers down my spine.

Her fingertips, even unconsciously, lightly touched my glans. The unexpected stimulation made me gasp and my body tense instantly.

I started using her hand, moving it up and down in rhythm with the wild desire in my heart.

My mother’s hands were warm and soft, and the slippery feel of her stockings made it easier for my penis to slide in and out of them. Each friction was moist and sticky.

As my movements intensified, her body began to tremble violently. The trembling was not due to being startled awake, but rather stemmed from a deep, instinctive reaction within her body.

The soft, low moans that had been emanating from her throat grew louder, a kind of suppressed, unrestrained groan, like the seductive song of a mermaid in the deep sea.

Her brows were furrowed, and fine beads of sweat even appeared on her forehead, as if she were immersed in an intense and wonderful erotic dream, with every cell in her body responding to the pleasure in the dream.

My penis quickly became engorged and harder in her unconscious jade-like hand. The glans was repeatedly rubbed by the stockings and her fingertips, making it feel incredibly numb. Waves of pleasure surged over me, one after another, assaulting my reason.

”Mmm, ah, no,” the mother unconsciously uttered lewd murmurs in her sleep.

Her fingers suddenly tightened at that moment, gripping my penis tightly with just the right amount of force, as if matching my rhythm, or as if unconsciously asking me for a deeper, more intense pleasure.

This unintentional femininity, that natural submission and desire, pushed me to the brink of climax, making it impossible for me to endure any longer.

”Ah—!” A suppressed, hoarse growl burst from my throat, filled with primal bestiality and the thrill of conquest.

In the midst of violent spasms, streams of hot, thick, white fluid gushed out like a surging brook, unstoppable, and poured down onto the mother’s gentle and serene face without reservation.

The glistening liquid, carrying the warmth of my body and a strong fishy smell, slowly slid down her fair cheeks, wetting her long, thick eyelashes and giving her tightly closed eyelids a lewd sheen.

A few drops of scalding semen even landed precisely on her slightly parted, tender lips. Her beautiful face, now covered by my essence, was like a mask of the most exquisite semen, exuding a sensual and blasphemous beauty.

My body was still trembling, all my strength had been drained, leaving only boundless pleasure and the emptiness after conquest.

I was panting, completely exhausted, yet I felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.

I quickly took the flesh-colored stockings off my mother’s hand, and with trembling hands, carefully cleaned the semen off her delicate face with the tissues I had prepared beforehand, leaving not a trace.

Then, I clutched the flesh-colored stocking stained with my semen tightly in my hand and quickly and quietly left the room, as if I had never been there.

Only the rich scent of my mother’s body, mixed with the smell of my own desire, and the damp stockings, still reminded me of everything I had just done.

It was another dark night, and my father was on night shift.

In the empty room, only my heartbeat echoed wildly in my chest.

Having tasted the sweetness of the last time, I felt restless and uneasy, as if countless cat claws had scratched my heart, making it difficult to suppress the churning desires within me.

I know that my mother is fast asleep in her bedroom right now. Beneath that peaceful sleeping face lies a voluptuous and charming body, every inch of her skin exuding the ultimate allure of a mature woman.

The taste of last time lingered on my tongue, the rich maternal fragrance intertwined with my own semen, lingering in my mind, making me even more eager to delve into her private territory and explore more forbidden pleasures.

I tiptoed into her room. Moonlight streamed in through the window, outlining her soft silhouette as she slept.

My gaze fell on her long, beautiful legs, which were hidden by the hem of her nightgown. They peeked out from the thin silk dress, like the most perfect works of art.

What captivated me even more were those slender, beautiful white feet peeking out from under the covers. They were so exquisite, like carved ivory, possessing a fragile yet alluring beauty.

My mother’s ankles were so delicate, as if they would break if you held them too tightly.

The ten tiny toes are round and cute, with neatly trimmed nails that gleam with a healthy shine, like ten tiny pearls waiting for my appreciation.

I felt a sudden dryness in my mouth, as if a fire was burning in my throat.

Unable to suppress my inner desire, I carefully reached out and gently took my mother’s bare foot in my hand. My fingertips touched the smooth, warm skin on the instep of her foot, and the delicate touch sent a shiver down my spine.

I gently lifted it and placed it to my lips.

A scent mingled with the unique smell of her sweaty feet and a faint fragrance wafted into my nostrils, instantly filling my brain with a rush of blood and filling me with an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.

I first gently touched the soles of her feet with the tip of my tongue; they were so soft, the skin as delicate as a baby’s.

My tongue, like a mischievous snake’s tongue, traced back and forth across the soles of her feet, leaving clear trails on her skin with its warm, moist touch.

Then, I greedily licked my toes little by little, meticulously tracing every crevice, even using the tip of my tongue to delve between my toes, savoring the unique and subtle fragrance there.

I put each of her toes in my mouth, my tongue circling her rounded nails, sucking on the skin of her fingertips. The wet, soft texture almost made me moan.

My mother’s soles were sensitive and delicate. When I licked them with my warm tongue, they felt as soft as feathers, causing her to let out a barely audible moan in her sleep. The sound was so faint, yet it was like the sweetest melody, instantly igniting the passion deep within my heart.

She instinctively curled her legs up, as if stimulated by the sudden tingling sensation, or as if struck by some kind of electric current, her body trembling slightly.

My heart was pounding faster, like a drumbeat, pounding against my eardrums.

This instinctive reaction, this unconscious resistance and submission, gave me a sense of lewd triumph.

Every little movement my mother made seemed like indulgence, a silent response to my most primal desires.

Her unconsciousness aroused in me an unprecedented desire for control and conquest, making me even more addicted to this forbidden pleasure.

I held my mother’s soft feet in my hands, feeling her warm skin. The smooth and elastic touch made my mind go blank, and all reason was washed away by the surging desire.

My tongue, as if bewitched, took turns sucking between her two little feet, not missing an inch of her skin.

The tongue brushed against the fair instep, leaving a clear wet mark, where a delicate blush immediately rose, like splashed rouge, vibrant and luscious.

My thick, warm tongue had licked every inch of her little feet clean. It roamed and caressed her feet with fascination. At first, it only explored the toes and the spaces between them carefully. Later, my desire exploded completely, and I didn’t even spare the soles and arches of her feet. I sucked on them with all my might, making the insteps and soles of her feet wet with my saliva, glistening with a lascivious sheen.

This excessive stimulation caused my already erect penis to throb painfully against my thighs through my pants, veins bulging, ready to pounce.

I took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the fervor that was about to erupt within me, and tried my best to move gently so as not to disturb the sleeping beauty.

My gaze swept across the floor beside the bed and fell upon a pair of flesh-colored stockings that my mother had casually taken off. They lay there quietly, waiting to be given new meaning by me.

The stockings still carried my mother’s body warmth and her unique fragrance, a captivating aroma that blended the scent of sweat, body odor, and nylon fibers, making me even more eager.

I carefully, as if treating it as a sacred offering, slowly, gently, starting from her toes, and working my way up onto my mother’s right foot.

The flesh-colored stockings glided gently over her instep, tightly wrapping around my mother’s small feet. That thin, elastic fabric seemed to act as the most potent aphrodisiac, giving me an unprecedented thrill.

The edge of the stockings clung tightly to the skin of her ankles, outlining a perfect curve and making her already fair feet even more alluring.

As my fingertips caressed the stockings, I could still feel the warmth and elasticity of her skin through the thin fabric. That subtle touch ignited my desire, which burned wildly within me like a wildfire.

The stockings stretched slowly upwards along her calves, the sheer flesh color perfectly showcasing the curves of her slender legs.

Every inch of her covered skin exuded allure, making it impossible for me to look away.

My fingers gently traced the surface of the stockings, feeling their smooth and delicate texture, and I imagined them rubbing against my mother’s skin.

That right foot, encased in stockings, became even more erotic in my eyes, as if coated with a layer of lewd luster, making me even more eager to play with it and defile it.

My breathing became rapid, my heart pounded like a drum, and the erection between my legs had long been at its limit.

I trembled as I bent down and pressed my cheek tightly against the warm instep encased in stockings, greedily inhaling the unique scent that mingled with the fragrance of stockings, skin, and my mother’s body. The scent was so intense that it almost suffocated me, yet I couldn’t resist it.

I held my mother’s feet again. Those soft, smooth feet seemed especially delicate in my hands, as if they would shatter if I exerted too much force.

I carefully brought them together, pressing my right foot, clad in flesh-colored stockings, against my left foot, which was wet and red from my licking.

A complex sensation, a mixture of the warmth of her skin, the coolness of her stockings, and the wetness of my saliva, instantly spread through my palm.

I trembled as I unzipped my pants, grasped my burning, throbbing penis, and slowly and precisely placed it between my mother’s legs.

My penis is thick and hard, with a full glans at the tip, reddish-purple, like a fruit waiting to burst open.

When it first touched my mother’s soles and the insteps covered by stockings, I felt an electric shock all over my body, an extreme stimulation shooting straight from my perineum to my brain.

The smoothness of the silk stockings and the soft warmth of the bare feet tightly enveloped my monstrous penis. It was an unprecedented combination of softness and resilience, tight and elastic, as if it were tailor-made for my penis.

I took a deep breath and started masturbating hard, my waist thrusting forward rhythmically, causing my penis to move in and out between my mother’s legs and rub against her.

With each penetration, my penis could feel the fullness of being tightly gripped by two feet, especially the softness of that bare foot, the gaps between the toes, and the lines on the sole. They gently and meticulously caressed every inch of my penis, as if a pair of the most perfect hands were serving me.

On the other side, the silky feel of the stockings enveloped the other side of my penis. The thin nylon fabric made a soft “rustling” sound as it rubbed against me. This sound was like the most erotic music to my ears, as if it were my mother’s silent acquiescence and coquettishness, making me even more excited and intoxicated.

I pressed my mother’s beautiful feet even closer to my penis, my glans rubbing back and forth between the soles and insteps of her feet, each time with full force, squeezing her toes tightly, yet the stockings prevented it from being too rough.

The flesh-colored stockings formed an ambiguous barrier between my glans and the back of my foot, increasing the pleasure of friction while retaining a touch of forbidden mystery.

My penis moved up and down between her legs, each thrust causing her feet to deform slightly, her toes bent by the head of my penis, and her arches pressed deeper by the base of my penis.

In her sleep, Mom seemed to feel an even more intense tingling and strange sensation. Her breathing became a little rapid, and her petite body twisted slightly.

She unconsciously let out a short groan, like a kitten’s soft panting, or as if she were enduring some kind of sweet torment in a dream.

Seeing her unconscious movements, her physical reactions, and the slight furrow in her brow due to desire, I felt an even more fervent excitement welling up inside me.

Every reaction she made was like the strongest catalyst, pushing my already restless desires to new heights.

I stopped simply stroking and instead rubbed and squeezed my penis between my mother’s feet, teasing her from all angles with my large, hot glans between her toes, on her arches, and on her ankles.

My glans even penetrated deep between her toes, rubbing the soft flesh between her toes with the wet coronal sulcus at the tip, feeling the narrow and warm embrace.

Each squeeze made my mother’s arches tense even more, her delicate skin pressed against my penis. Although there was no actual penetration, it brought me a different kind of forbidden pleasure.

I squeezed my mother’s feet even tighter, and my penis thrust wildly inside her, each thrust seemingly trying to pierce through her soles.

A tingling, trembling sensation traveled from the soles of her feet to the depths of her mother’s body. She frowned slightly and let out a deeper groan.

The moan was no longer a soft gasp, but carried an irrepressible blend of coquettishness and pain, like the sweetest seduction, completely igniting the long-suppressed desire within me.

My penis was tightly enveloped by her soft, warm soles, rubbed against her thin stockings and moist skin, and I felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.

Her beautiful feet, already warm from my penis, quickened their pace as I drove them, rubbing the soles of her feet frantically against my penis while her toes gripped my glans tightly, as if trying to squeeze every last drop of essence from my body.

My mother’s body began to grow warmer and warmer in her sleep, her skin flushed an unnatural red. I could feel each squeeze of her feet accompanied by a silent tremor deep within her body.

My penis became even more sensitive as it was repeatedly squeezed between two beautiful feet, and each friction brought a burning, tingling sensation.

My breathing became heavy, and my nostrils were filled with the smell of my mother’s sweaty feet and the faint fragrance of her private parts. The smell made me dizzy and my rationality completely collapsed.

I could no longer endure this extreme pleasure; my body felt like it was being boiled in a high-pressure steam boiler, about to explode.

Finally, just before my reason completely collapsed, a scalding hot stream gushed out from my penis, like a flood bursting its banks, and sprayed all over my mother’s fair and tender calves.

Warm, viscous semen, like white hot liquid, gushed out in large spurts, splashing onto her delicate skin, sticky and moist.

Some of the semen slowly dripped down her calves, soaking the hem of her nightgown and leaving glaring white spots on the mauve silk.

Watching the semen drip from my mother’s toes, drop by drop, filled me with a strong sense of possessiveness and satisfaction, I felt an unprecedented excitement and perverse pleasure.

That wet liquid symbolized my private mark, branded on her pure jade feet.

I took off my stockings, exposing my right foot, which was originally covered by flesh-colored stockings.

Then, I grabbed my mother’s ankles and brought them together, rubbing them against each other, staining her two smooth, bare feet with my semen.

The glistening liquid slid back and forth between her soles, coating them with a shimmering silver sheen, making them look utterly lewd.

My fingers, still sticky with semen, felt the curves of my mother’s instep and the softness of her toes. An indescribable sense of satisfaction filled my entire body.

I put my mother’s feet back in their original positions and gently covered her with a thin blanket, as if I had never been there.

Only that rich, erotic scent, a mixture of my mother’s body fragrance, my semen, and her intimate aroma, lingered in my nostrils, reminding me of everything I had just done.

The aura was so intense, like a brand, that it was deeply etched into my senses, making it unforgettable.

Looking at her peaceful face as she slept soundly, a forbidden sense of satisfaction welled up inside me, along with a twisted anticipation for the next revelry.