I completely lost the desire to play games. My mind was consumed by my sister's attitude towards me, the sheer impatience in her voice, which particularly irritated me. What made it worse was the other boy's voice on the phone; he spoke to her so gently, and she spoke to him so cheerfully. That tone, which I remember once belonged only to me, was now being used for someone else, driving me crazy. I felt as if something important had been stolen, and the hollow feeling in my chest was unbearable.
My sister's appearance is pure and sweet, especially her smile. Her two little dimples make her look like an angel, incredibly healing to me. I've watched countless anime about older brothers protecting their sisters, and I couldn't help but adopt that role, making protecting her my mission. But without realizing it, after watching too much incestuous content, like Yosuga no Sora, I developed strange feelings for her. I never had a chance because of my mother's presence.
Now, she seemed so intimate with another boy. This felt like my most cherished possession was being snatched away, making me furious and frustrated. I wanted to go find her, but then I remembered my sister's uncomfortable expression every time my mass of fat approached her. I realized now that perhaps a beautiful sister like her valued her image, and my presence as her brother made her feel embarrassed.
This realization filled me with helplessness. I looked at my own bloated body; I struggled just to climb the stairs. It seemed I truly didn't match such a beautiful sister.
I spent a while lost in thought, coming up with many solutions, all of which were discarded due to my own inadequacy. Suddenly, I thought of Ning Yao, my strict mother who handles everything meticulously.
"Perfect! I know how to fix this," I suddenly exclaimed, standing up with my heavy body, excited.
"I just need to tell Mom." Given Ning Yao's strictness concerning her daughter, as soon as I told her, my sister would surely be punished. This might cause my sister to resent me, but it seemed like the only way to keep her. The thought of my sister being with someone else made me incredibly agitated and distraught.
With a solution in mind, I felt less depressed. That's when the urge to defecate surged up.
Every Friday after school, the first thing I usually did was rush to the bathroom. Today, however, I was distracted by my sister, causing a slight delay. Now that the feeling came, I bolted into the restroom.
After flushing, I felt an unprecedented comfort, walking lighter across the floor. I opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of yogurt, tore it open, and drank it. Then I grabbed my phone, ready to log into Honor of Kings for an epic battle.
"That man has logged on; the entire server trembles!" I recited the line dramatically.
As I clicked the login button, my eyes unintentionally caught a pink bucket in the corner. My heart immediately tightened.
A basin was covering the top, concealing the contents, but my heart instinctively began to race.
I set my phone down on the coffee table. Instead of going straight to the bucket, I walked to Mom's bedroom. I tried the handle; sure enough, it was locked, and I had no key, so there was no way in.
But the small bucket next to it was familiar; it was the one Mom used to place her clothes in before washing.
Normally, I wouldn't expect any surprises from this bucket, but today it was here, and it was deliberately covered with a basin. A thrill of anticipation and greed sprang up in my heart, like a devil whispering and tempting me. Driven by desire, I couldn't help but swallow my saliva and then reached out with my sinful hand again.
As I lifted the basin, the light from outside rushed in, illuminating the bucket's interior, and the contents were revealed before me.
My heart lurched and then began to pound violently—thump, thump, thump—with excitement, and my breathing grew rapid. Inside the bucket lay a red bra and a pair of conservatively styled black panties, neatly folded. But these were not what attracted me most.
The most enticing item was curled quietly in the corner, as if shyly hiding. It remained there silently, unlike the "flirtatious" bra and panties, but it instantly ignited an unparalleled desire in me.
I couldn't wait. I quickly reached in and picked up the flesh-colored pantyhose. The silky smooth texture exploded in my hand, making me sigh. This was certainly not cheap stocking material; it had to be high quality, as I had countless times secretly watched Mom's long, straight, beautiful legs after work, always so composed and flawless, and the stockings wrapped around them never had a single snag.
I raised the stockings and immediately pressed them against my face, burying my nose deep into the fabric and inhaling deeply.
"Ah…" These were the stockings Mom hadn't had time to wash, carrying her unique scent. A rich 'meat fragrance' accompanied by a faint scent of sweat blossomed at my nostrils, traveling up my nasal passages and violently bursting in my brain's cortex. I couldn't help but sigh. This was wonderful—this was Mom's scent.
I indulged in this intoxicating aroma, holding the alluring stockings to my nose like a sacred treasure, savoring and inhaling like an addict, feeling the captivating scent spread through my nose and mouth.
Mom's pantyhose was simply too enchanting. Worn for an entire day, they carried no annoying stench of sweat, but rather a strong fragrant sweat mixed with that rich 'meat fragrance,' making me unable to stop. I opened my mouth to suck them, breathing in their scent, all while imagining Mom's full, white, beautiful legs. I wondered what it would feel like to touch them.
I had no interest in playing games anymore. The desire that had built up all week needed to be released. I quickly put Mom's stockings in my mouth, dashed to the coffee table, swiped the phone screen, and closed the Honor of Kings app from the background. Then I expertly tapped the browser and opened my history.
Sure enough, there were no traces or bookmarks left; everything was gone. Mom had already tampered with it.
But this was no obstacle to me. I tapped on the screen, and with the press of the enter key, an erotic website quickly popped up. I clicked in, holding the stockings in my mouth, and hurried to my bedroom.
Passing my sister's room, I had a sudden whim and tried pushing the door. To my surprise, the door gave way, and I walked right in.
This chain of huge surprises left me baffled as to why my normally cautious mother had made two such mistakes today. But for me, this was an incredible stroke of luck, meaning my penis would be blessed today. Being wrapped simultaneously in the intimate wear of both my mother and my sister would bring unimaginable pleasure, perfectly releasing the desire I had accumulated for a week.
I entered my sister's cute, cozy room, ignoring the large teddy bears and toys, and went straight to the lingerie drawer. I found a cute little bear-themed pair of panties. I picked them up and took a deep breath; they had been washed and smelled of laundry detergent, a faint floral scent—the exact brand my mother preferred, which I was very familiar with. Though it lacked the excitement of unwashed wear, the thought that it was my sister's intimate garment still thrilled me immensely.
Holding the personal clothing of both my mother and my sister, I could no longer suppress my excitement and hurried back to my room.
I browsed the erotic website, scanning the images and titles for my preferred targets, like a hunter seeking prey. The site had updated a lot this week. This was one of the better sites I'd found, and, naturally, this was related to my personal fetish—the incest themes were exactly what I desired.
I quickly selected a few videos and downloaded them all.
I couldn't wait any longer. I took off my pants, revealing my already hardened penis, and impatiently stroked it twice. The familiar sensation of pleasure washed over me, and I sighed in relief.
As I masturbated, dopamine began to secrete—a reward mechanism when human needs are met. This substance is like an addiction, which is why many people become obsessed with various hobbies.
Since I was home alone, I played without restraint. I didn't use headphones and simply played the video aloud. Immediately, a lewd scene appeared on the screen.
The video had subtitles, describing the male lead's strategy for conquering his mother. I involuntarily immersed myself in the role…
I slipped Mom's pantyhose over my penis. My rigid member was layered and wrapped in Mom's silk. The thought that Mom had once worn these stockings, and that they might have even touched her private parts, drove me wild. My penis swelled. I couldn't help but thrust hard a few times. The friction between the stockings and my penis made me gasp softly. I also grasped my sister's pink panties and placed them over my penis, holding them together as I continued to stroke myself, up and down.
This sensation far surpassed the pleasure I got from the fleshlight I had bought previously (which Mom found and threw away long ago, probably into some garbage can). My mother hated my self-pleasuring, mentioning it indirectly more than once, but I always ignored her, becoming even more obsessed with her body. Humans seem to be that way: the unattainable is always the most stirring.
Lying on my bed, resting my head on the quilt, I slid my finger across the phone screen, skipping the drawn-out parts and jumping straight to the end. I watched the male lead forcefully thrusting into the mature woman below him, all while constantly uttering dirty talk: "Does it feel good?" "Does your son f**king you feel good?"
His member went in and out of the mature, dark red, hairy 'honey-pot' below, plunging in hard every time until the penis was completely inside before pulling out, dragging out a large piece of tender flesh. The woman in the video covered her mouth, emitting sounds of unbearable pleasure. Her large, purple-grape breasts shook with the impact, and her lower area was a deep reddish color, clearly belonging to an older woman. But I became even more obsessed—not with the woman's beauty, large breasts, or mature body, but with her forbidden identity, groaning out sounds seemingly against her will, yet helpless, under the impact of her own son.
I didn't know if this was acting, but if it was, it was a spectacular performance. Overthinking the reality of the video would ruin the fun, so I simply imagined the characters were genuinely mother and son. As the penis in the porn quickly plunged in and out of the mature, hairy honey-pot, I also stroked the one between my legs. The feeling of being wrapped in Mom's pantyhose was too exquisite. I couldn't help but imagine Mom's moving, delicate face twisting in pleasure beneath me, her straight, long beautiful legs, clad in black, white, or nude stockings, being wantonly played with by me, her full hips being ruthlessly impacted by me. That would surely be the most beautiful sight in the world.
With the aid of Mom's pantyhose, this was simply too comfortable. I forced myself not to orgasm, stroking myself for a long time, changing the video a few times. When I felt close to ejaculating, I stopped for a rest, then continued, repeating the cycle for nearly an hour.
Because Mom returned relatively late, and her timing was always fixed, and since Mengmeng didn't seem to be back yet, I wasn't particularly afraid of my sister. In fact, driven by lust, I became slightly bolder, secretly hoping she might catch me and trigger a comic-like confrontation.
However, I dared not be discovered by Mom. The reason was simple: she was too strict. Although Mom had previously noticed something amiss with her stockings and underwear, she had never actually caught me, so she hadn't truly punished me—she had only become increasingly defensive.
At this moment, I was clearly nearing my limit. After nearly an hour of activity, my urge to ejaculate reached its critical point.
I deliberately selected the most exciting part of the video, turned up the volume on my phone, and rapidly stroked my shaft. Wrapped in the underwear of both my mother and my sister, I indulged in this heavenly pleasure, my mind completely blank.
The intense pleasure and the lewd moans from the video made me ignore the sound of a key turning in the front door lock, and the increasingly heavy clack-clack of high heels on the tile floor, drawing closer.
"I'm coming!!!"
I swear this was the most fierce ejaculation I'd had in months. The accumulated semen of a week was thick and plentiful, spraying violently toward the door with unstoppable force!
But at that moment, my half-closed bedroom door was violently pushed open, and a tall, beautiful woman with a slightly angry face appeared before me. She hadn't yet changed out of her work clothes and was still wearing her professional office attire. She was dressed in an OL suit—a crisp jacket on top and a pencil skirt on the bottom. Her prominent breasts stood firm, pushing against the jacket, forcefully creating a gap in the conservative neckline.
Below, the jacket narrowed sharply at the waist, accentuating her slender yet curvaceous figure. Her lower abdomen, having carried two children, was perfectly flat with no excess flesh.
Behind her, her full, ripe hips supported the perfect curve of the dress. From the back, her shape resembled a mature peach. Had the pencil skirt not been intentionally lengthened, it might have even flipped up, showing the fullness of her buttocks. Further down were her round, straight long legs, tightly bound by excellent quality black pantyhose, further highlighting their graceful lines. Under the light, they shone with an alluring luster, standing together as straight as jade pillars of an immortal palace.
A pair of high heels added extra height to her already tall frame, making her posture even more graceful, like a willow swaying gently or a blossoming flower.