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Chapter 3 Fallen Mother Volume Two: Continuation
"This wine… this wine is so expensive, girl, I can't, I can't," Old Jiao quickly put down his chopsticks, waving his hands.
I looked at him, surprised he even recognized Moutai.
Mom was also a bit surprised. "You know this wine is expensive?"
Old Jiao grinned sheepishly, "Once saw it in the village heard a bottle like this costs tens of thousands. I wanted to try it, but they wouldn't let me, so I just stared."
"Well, since you've never had it, have some now," Mom said.
"This…"
"There's plenty more in the wine cabinet, drink as you like," Mom added.
Actually, Mom didn't drink much herself. During holidays, lots of officials or rich businesspeople would send gifts expensive stuff of all kinds. The really valuable things she'd never keep, but things like wine, she just left at home.
Hearing this, Old Jiao said, "Well, I won't be polite then."
He opened the Moutai and poured himself a glass, holding it with both hands, savoring it as if he were floating away. "Delicious, delicious, really delicious," he praised with a thumbs up.
"Have some more, then," Mom said.
"Alright!"
Old Jiao suddenly remembered, "I can't be the only one drinking girl, you have a glass too?"
Not wanting to spoil his mood, Mom nodded. Seeing this, Old Jiao eagerly poured her a full glass.
At the table, I just quietly ate my food, not even pouring myself a drink. Of course, there were drinks I just didn't feel like moving.
Time passed. Soon, Old Jiao had drunk three or four glasses of baijiu, his face flushed, eyes glazed. He wanted more, but Mom stopped him, and he agreed without complaint.
After dinner, Old Jiao offered to wash the dishes, but Mom stopped him and looked at me.
What could I say? I immediately stood up and carried the dishes to the kitchen. I didn't mind washing dishes wasn't a big deal.
I was a "second-generation official," but compared to others my age, my temper was much milder. Other kids like me led much darker lives, doing all sorts of things. They had their own desires, some frightening. But I didn't have those desires maybe it's just my nature, going with the flow. To put it bluntly, I just don't have much of a temper.
But I'm used to it.
I quickly finished washing the dishes, including their wine glasses, then went to the living room to tidy up the leftovers putting some in the fridge, throwing others away. It took about twenty minutes.
The living room was quiet; I was alone. When I finished, I planned to return to my room to play on the computer. But just as I reached the door, there was a loud noise from Old Jiao's bedroom, making my hand on the doorknob tremble slightly.
I paused and looked over. The bedroom door was tightly shut. I quietly walked over and pressed my ear to the door, hearing faint sounds inside.
"Be gentle, don't wake my son."
"Sorry, sorry, girl, I didn't mean to, hehe…"
"No laughing!"
"Okay."
A while later
"Ow, girl, your hand is so soft and slippery, it feels so good. Easy, that's a bit much… it hurts…"
"Am I too rough?"
"Yeah, a little…"
"Alright, I'll be gentler."
"Girl, thank you for helping me… but I still can't finish. Standing is tiring, can I sit?"
"Go ahead."
Silence.
Outside, I could only hear bits and pieces, but it was clear enough. My hands and feet felt cold I hadn't expected that while I was cleaning up, they'd be doing that in the room.
Still, I was a little relieved Mom's tone was cold, as if she wasn't really into it.
The bedroom door was shut tight, not even a crack. Knowing Mom's careful nature, it was surely locked if I barged in, it'd be too awkward. So I didn't expect to see anything from the door.
I went back to my room, locked the door, put on headphones, and turned on the surveillance.
On the screen, I saw this scene:
Old Jiao sat on a cushioned chair, his shorts pulled down to his knees, bare-bottomed, his thick, dark rod standing tall in the air, the head bright red and round like a mushroom.
Mom was kneeling on one knee in front of him, right hand grasping the veined shaft, slowly moving up and down not fast, not slow. From her movements, she didn't seem very enthusiastic. Or maybe that's just her nature unless she's truly passionate, she never gets too into it.
Old Jiao leaned back in the chair, looking like a lord, thoroughly enjoying himself.
His thick rod was stroked again and again by Mom's snow-white hand, looking even more menacing, as if the air was filled with a strange hormonal scent.
Old Jiao's gaze was lowered, seemingly fixed on Mom's chest. From his angle, he could probably see everything above her waist, though the surveillance angle didn't show me that.
What I could see was Mom's kneeling figure still in her work uniform, exuding mature charm, her round, perky hips tightly wrapped in suit pants, her long legs in flesh-colored stockings, skin smooth and flawless.
I stared at the screen. The room was silent, almost stifling.
Finally, Old Jiao seemed unsatisfied he still hadn't finished.
"Girl, like this, I don't know when I'll be able to finish," he said.
"What, got a new idea?" Mom seemed to see right through him.
Old Jiao chuckled awkwardly.
"Don't dawdle, spit it out!" Mom said.
"Well… girl, your mouth is so pretty, can you…"
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