Chapter 1 Part 1 Midnight Peeping (1)
Late at night, a suppressed and urgent sound pulled me out of my sleep.
It was a panting sound, heavy like pulling a bellows, coming from the next room, my son Xiaoyu's room.
I sat up, my heart pounding, threw on a thin jacket, afraid of waking him, I tiptoed like a thief and gently opened my own bedroom door.
The hallway was very dark, with only a sliver of light leaking from under Xiaoyu's door.
That panting sound was getting faster, carrying a strange, heart-fluttering rhythm.
What was he doing?
Why wasn't he sleeping in the middle of the night?
I muttered to myself, carefully approaching his door.
I stopped at the door, my hand just about to push it open to ask, but my body suddenly stiffened.
Through that narrow door crack, I saw Xiaoyu sitting at his desk.
On the lit phone screen on the table, an indecent scene was playing.
And my son, his left hand tightly clutching my light-colored cotton panties, pressing them firmly under his nose, greedily sniffing.
His right hand was moving rapidly in his crotch, emitting that heart-stopping panting from his mouth.
I immediately understood. He was masturbating. Using my panties.
My heart sank to the bottom, then jumped wildly, almost bursting out of my chest.
The story starts from two years ago.
My name is Chen Fang, and I'm an accompanying study mom.
To give my son Xiaoyu a better education, after discussing with my husband, we decided to send him to the United States to attend high school.
He was only sixteen at the time, still a half-grown kid.
We were worried he wouldn't adapt alone abroad, and even more worried about the open environment here in America, with gun issues, drugs, all sorts of messy things, that he might go bad or encounter danger.
In the end, my husband decided to have me come along to accompany him.
Just like that, I became an accompanying study mom in this unfamiliar city.
For these two years, my life revolved around my son: cooking for him, washing clothes, cleaning the house.
The rest was endless loneliness.
I only know a few simple English phrases, barely able to communicate with locals.
Once Xiaoyu goes to school, this rented apartment is left with just me, staring at the walls in a daze, listening to the unfamiliar traffic sounds outside the window.
In this loneliness, that craving in my body quietly emerged, growing wildly like weeds.
When we first arrived, my husband and I often video chatted.
Across the screen, we'd look at each other, take care of ourselves, which could somewhat alleviate it.
But later, he always complained that it was late at night in China, and doing that left him without energy for work the next day.
Gradually, the videos turned into pure chatting, about the child, about home trivia.
But chatting couldn't solve the emptiness and heat in my body.
Later, online, blushing, I anonymously bought a realistic toy.
When Xiaoyu went to school, it became my only comfort, relieving the unspeakable loneliness.
Now, looking at the scene through the door crack, my mind was in chaos, my face burning hot.
Xiaoyu is eighteen now, having such needs is normal.
I went through that age too.
But reason is reason; having me, his mom, talk to him about this?
Just thinking about it makes me want to find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
I saw his movements getting faster, his body tensing, and finally stiffening suddenly, his whole body going limp like his bones were pulled out, slumping over the desk, left with only heavy panting.
My heart twisted again, mixed with worry and an indescribable shame.
The old saying goes "one drop of semen is ten drops of blood," how can his body handle such indulgence?
But how do I bring it up?
This is too embarrassing, it's killing me.
Blushing, I fled back to my room like escaping.
Lying in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
My mind was full of the scene I just saw: him clutching my panties in his hand, those rapid movements, and his limp appearance at the end.
What made me even more ashamed and mortified was that at the moment I watched him finish, a clear heat surged from deep in my body, and I got wet.
Oh God!
How could I react to my own son?
I fiercely pinched my thigh, it must be because I've been holding it in too long, this damn life without a man!
I really hope summer vacation comes soon, so I can go back to China and see my husband.
The next morning, with two heavy dark circles under my eyes, I boiled an egg for Xiaoyu, and specially boiled an extra one.
He frowned and said he couldn't eat it, no appetite.
I forced him to eat it anyway, thinking I need to nourish him.
Once he left with his backpack, I immediately called my husband.
"Hello, honey," I lowered my voice, walked to the balcony, and told him everything I saw last night in detail, my voice trembling, "...he was holding my panties... I'm worried if he keeps this up, his body will break down, and I'm even more afraid he'll learn bad things outside. America here, there's too much messy stuff..."
My husband immediately got anxious on the other end: "Chen Fang! You have to keep a close eye on our son! America is so chaotic, I hear about drugs, AIDS, and those strip clubs! If he gets led astray by bad kids, catches some disease, his life is over! You must watch him closely!"
His words hammered my heart, making me even more panicked. "I know, I know! But... but how do I bring this up with him? Why don't you find time to talk to him? Over video?"
My husband was silent for a moment, his tone a bit irritable: "The company is super busy lately, rushing a big project, weekends I have to entertain clients... Alright, alright, I'll try to find time to video with him. You keep an eye on him for now!"
After hanging up, my heart was even more messed up, like a tangled mess.
Keep a close eye? How to watch him?
Follow him 24/7?
That would only make him more annoyed with me, think I'm neurotic.
But if I don't, what if something really happens?
The scenes my husband mentioned swirled in my mind.
I paced back and forth in the small living room, restless with worry.
Just then, the doorbell rang suddenly.
"Ding dong ding dong "
I jumped, slipped on my slippers, and went to the door.
Peeking through the peephole, outside stood a middle-aged woman with Asian features.
She looked about my age, well-proportioned figure, fair skin, well-maintained, dressed decently, clearly from a good family.
"Who is it?" I asked cautiously, my hand unconsciously on the door lock. Alone with a child abroad, safety first, those shooting cases in the news always make one uneasy.
"Hello," came a voice from outside with a bit of Beijing accent in standard Mandarin, very friendly, "I'm the new neighbor who just moved in, right across the hall. I heard you're also accompanying your child to study, thinking we're fellow countrymen, came over to get acquainted."
This familiar hometown accent warmed my heart, and my tense nerves and defenses relaxed a lot. I opened the door.
She was holding a box of exquisitely packaged cookies, smiling gently at me: "My name is Wang Li, call me Lili. From Beijing, my son is in tenth grade (freshman year) here. Moved in a few days ago, saw you always coming and going alone, wanted to say hi earlier, but didn't have time."
"Come in, come in!" I quickly invited her in, a wave of warmth surging in my heart like meeting an old friend in a foreign land, "My name is Chen Fang, my son Xiaoyu is in eleventh grade (junior year)."
Having been lonely for so long, suddenly meeting a neighbor who speaks the hometown language, I was overjoyed.
That evening, I kept Wang Li and her son for a simple dinner at home.
Her son is called Xiaokai, seventeen years old, very tall, almost 1.8 meters, looks energetic, with that unique sunny handsomeness of adolescent boys, bright eyes.
Coincidentally, he and Xiaoyu are actually in the same private high school, just one grade lower.
That day I wore a V-neck beige cashmere sweater, the neckline not too low, but when bending over, it would still reveal a bit of collarbone.
During dinner, I noticed Xiaokai's gaze occasionally, quickly glancing over my neckline.
Once when I happened to look up while serving him more rice, our eyes met directly.
He jerked like he was electrocuted, immediately lowering his head in panic, picking at the rice in his bowl, his ear tips turning red.
That shy and embarrassed look made me vaguely recall my own teenage days sneaking peeks at boys I liked.
I pretended not to see, but a subtle, unwilling-to-delve-into sense of pride flashed in my heart. This old lady is over forty, but still has some appeal?
After dinner, as usual, I went to Xiaoyu's room to accompany him in reviewing.
The school has an important AP exam coming up soon, good scores are crucial for college applications.
Xiaoyu was very serious, saying he must do well and buy me a nice coat in the future.
Hearing him say that, my heart warmed, but also felt a bit sour.
This kid is too competitive, puts too much pressure on himself, just like his dad.
At ten o'clock at night, I urged him to rest.
When leaving his room, like last night, I inexplicably, deliberately didn't close the door tightly, leaving a thin crack.
I wanted to confirm if he does this every night.
Sure enough, late at night, that familiar, heart-fluttering panting sound started again, seeming even more urgent than last night.
I threw on clothes, barefoot, slipped to his door like a cat.
This time he was standing, back to the door.
What made my scalp tingle and blood almost freeze was he was holding my beige lace-trimmed bra!
He was using it to rub down there...
A surge of anger, shame, and worry rushed to my head, I really wanted to burst in right away, scold him, and snatch back the underwear.
But as soon as my foot moved, I stopped abruptly.
If I really did that, could he ever lift his head in front of me again?
Would our mother-son relationship be completely ruined?
Would it leave him with some psychological shadow?
I froze in place, nails digging into my palms, finally gritting my teeth, stepping back one by one.
Forget it, wait for his dad to talk to him, I can't open my mouth.
I just stood there on the cold wooden floor outside the door, listening to that suppressed panting, watching his movements get faster, body tensing like a bowstring, until finally trembling suddenly, letting out a short muffled groan, his whole body collapsing weakly against the desk, panting heavily.
At that moment, that familiar, mortifying heat surged uncontrollably again, my crotch slippery wet.
I was wet.
A huge wave of shame instantly overwhelmed me, I turned like I was burned, fled back to my room, banged the door shut, and slid down against the door panel to the floor.
What's wrong with me?
So despicable!
I cursed myself fiercely, pounding my legs hard, it's all because of this damn, long and repressive life without a man!
With Wang Li as a neighbor, the days were finally not so hard to endure.
We often went to the Chinese supermarket together, walked in the nearby community center, chatted about home, complained about life here, gradually becoming friends who could talk about anything.
The loneliness was diluted a lot.