Chapter 11 Mom actively begged me to fuck her

At six o’clock in the evening, the last rays of the setting sun, tinged with a sickly orange-red, slanted into the kitchen. The air was filled with the rich, oily aroma of old hen soup and a feeling of stuffiness caused by the enclosed space.

Mom was standing in front of the stove, wearing an extremely loose gray-white cotton T-shirt and a pair of light gray house pants of the same material.

Her outfit appeared conservative, but beneath the thin cotton fabric, the slightly engorged and enlarged shape of her buttocks, caused by a day’s anxiety and subconscious excitement, swayed…