Seeing her like this, the restless heat in me after my release quickly faded, replaced by a needle-sharp pang of guilt and heartache.
She's my mom.
Was what I just did... too much?
"Mom..." My voice was weak. I let go of her waist, taking half a step back. "I'm sorry..."
Mom didn't respond. Her eyes were still closed, her chest rising and falling slightly. Her hand, smeared with semen, hung by her side, trembling faintly.
Flustered, I grabbed the wet wipes from the bedside table, pulling out a large handful—the ones she bought for me last time, saying they were convenient for wiping hands and face.
I crouched down, my knees pressing against the cold floor, and carefully began wiping the white stains on the black stockings covering her legs.
When the wipe touched the skin of her thigh, she shivered slightly.
I made my movements even gentler, wiping away the sticky fluid bit by bit.
The stocking material was slippery, and some of the semen had already half-dried, making it a bit difficult to clean.
My fingertips inevitably brushed against the warm skin beneath her stockings. The sensation sent another ripple through my heart, but I suppressed it fiercely.
After cleaning her legs, I moved to the hand she had used to brace against the door.
I took her hand in mine. It was very soft, her fingertips cold. I carefully wiped each finger, one by one, not missing even the spaces between them.
Once cleaned, the palms and backs of her hands were still red. I didn't know if it was from the strain or something else.
After finishing, I stood up, looking at Mom who was still turned away from me, silent. My heart felt heavy and uncomfortable.
"Mom... the stuff on the floor and the door... I'll clean it up myself," I said quietly. "You... you should go wash up."
Only then did Mom slowly turn around.
Her face showed little expression. Her eyes were slightly red, but she wasn't crying.
She looked at her now-clean hand, then raised her eyes to look at me. Her gaze was empty and distant, as if she hadn't fully returned from the intensity of moments ago.
"...Mm." She finally made a sound, her voice terribly hoarse.
She tugged at the hem of her absurdly short nightgown, trying to cover her legs, but it was clearly futile.
Without looking at me again, she lowered her head, her steps somewhat unsteady as she walked around me, pulled open the bedroom door, and went out.
Hearing the sound of the bathroom door closing, followed soon after by the sound of running water, I finally let out a sigh of relief, but the heavy weight in my heart remained.
I found a rag and some tissues and cleaned up the traces I'd left on the door and the floor.
The smell in the air wouldn't dissipate quickly. I hesitated for a moment, then pushed the window open a crack.
The night wind, carrying a chill, blew in, clearing my feverish brain a little.
It was almost midnight.
Light still seeped from under the crack of the master bedroom door.
Standing in the hallway, staring at that strip of light, that thought surfaced in my mind again, stronger than ever.
I walked over, raised my hand, and knocked gently on the door.
"Mom, are you asleep?"
There was a moment of silence inside before Mom's voice came through, calmer than before but still tinged with fatigue. "Not yet... what is it?"
I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open a little.
Mom had already changed into that conservative long-sleeved pajama set. She was sitting at the dressing table, slowly drying her hair with a towel; it was already half-dry from the blow dryer.
In the mirror, her cheeks still held a lingering flush, and her eyes seemed to avoid my gaze.
"Mom." I leaned against the doorframe, my fingers unconsciously picking at the wood grain. My voice was very soft, carrying a hint of tentativeness and a trace of a whine I didn't even realize was there. "I... can I sleep with you tonight?"
Mom stopped drying her hair. She looked at me in the mirror, a flicker of surprise and other, more complex emotions in her eyes.
"Sleep with me? You... you're so grown up now." Her tone was a bit unnatural.
"That's exactly why. It's been so long since I slept with Mom." I walked into the room, casually closing the door behind me. My tone softened further, laced with nostalgia. "The last time we slept together was when I had a fever in elementary school, right? You stayed with me all night, taking my temperature every little while..."
I was telling the truth.
That night, Dad was on a business trip. I was burning up and delirious. All I remember is Mom's warm embrace, her pleasant scent, and her anxious yet gentle whispers.
Mom clearly remembered that time too.
Her eyes softened. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly, and the layer of tense distance between us faded a little.
She was silent for a moment, then finally let out a soft sigh. It sounded like resignation, or perhaps a kind of indulgence.
"...Alright. Just for tonight." She put down the towel, got up, and walked towards the double bed. "Go get your pillow."
"Okay!" My heart leaped with joy. I hurried back to my room, grabbed my pillow and thin blanket, and dashed back.
Mom was already lying down, on one side of the bed, facing away from me, leaving most of the space for me.
The bedside lamp was turned to its dimmest, the faint yellow glow illuminating only a small area.
I climbed onto the bed and lay down beside her.
The mattress was soft, carrying Mom's unique, warm fragrance, completely different from the smell of a single guy's room like mine.
I was careful not to touch her. But just lying in the same bed, separated by a few dozen centimeters, feeling her presence and body heat, I felt an uncontrollable surge of excitement.
Excitement aside, my body was a bit tired.
The two releases earlier, plus the constant mental tension, had left me weary once I relaxed.
We chatted idly.
Mostly she talked, and I listened.
She said the flower shop had gotten a new batch of tulips today, the colors were particularly vibrant; that a regular customer, an old lady, had ordered a big flower basket for her grandson's full-month celebration, and she had spent a long time arranging it; that the bun shop at the alley entrance seemed to be transferring ownership, and she didn't know where to buy breakfast in the mornings anymore.
Her voice was light, gentle, with a hypnotic quality in the dim, quiet room.
I responded with "mm-hmms," my eyelids growing heavier and heavier.
I don't know how much time passed, but Mom's voice gradually faded and stopped.
The sound of her breathing, now even and long, reached my ears.
She had fallen asleep.
Managing the flower shop all day, then having to deal with me at night... she was exhausted.
But I was wide awake.
The earlier drowsiness had been completely chased away by the stimulation now so close at hand.
Mom lay on her side beside me, her back to me. Beneath the thin pajamas, the curves of her body were clearly visible, rising and falling.
Her scent kept drifting into my nose—the fresh fragrance of shampoo and body wash mixed with that unique, warm, mature womanly scent that belonged only to her. It was like a tiny feather, tickling my heart again and again.
My breathing involuntarily grew heavier. The thing between my legs hardened almost instantly, tenting my sleep pants.
I secretly turned over, facing her back.
After fidgeting for a long while, I inched my body closer, little by little.
Until my chest was almost, but not quite, touching her back.
Even through two layers of pajamas, I could feel the warmth and softness of her body.
My painfully hard cock inevitably ended up poking into the crevice between her buttocks and thighs.
Without the stockings in the way, there were only two thin layers of cotton. The feeling... was more direct, softer, more maddening.
It felt like all the blood in my body rushed to that one spot.
Desire grew like weeds, crushing the pitiful remnants of reason and guilt.
Anyway... she's asleep.
And, earlier by the door... she didn't really struggle, even seemed a bit...
A bold and lewd thought took over my mind.
Holding my breath, my heart pounding against my chest, I gently lifted the beautiful leg closest to me.
Mom let out a soft murmur in her sleep but didn't wake up, letting me lift her leg a little higher.
This position made her plump buttocks jut out more towards me, and it was more convenient for me too.
Lying on my side, I carefully inserted my already rock-hard cock from the side into the space between the leg I had lifted and her other fleshy thigh.
The head immediately sank into the soft, tender flesh of her inner thigh. The warm body heat enveloped it instantly.
I almost groaned in pleasure.
I held it back desperately and began to rock my hips forward and back, extremely slowly and with tiny movements.
Just like the "dry humping" before, only this time we were lying side by side, a more intimate and more concealed position.
My penis rubbed back and forth in the tight crevice between her legs. The thick, hard shaft squeezed against her tender thigh flesh and also rubbed against the soft fabric of her pajama crotch.
I was incredibly nervous, straining my ears to listen to her breathing.
Her breathing was even at first, but slowly... it seemed to lose its rhythm a little.
I didn't dare stop. Waves of pleasure surged up, making my scalp tingle.
I closed my eyes, mechanically thrusting while my mind ran wild, imagining this wasn't through the pants, but that I was directly inside her body...
While I was secretly enjoying this pleasure, I had no idea that Mom had actually been awake for a while.
She had woken up when I got close, when my chest touched her back.
Or rather, she hadn't been sleeping deeply at all.
Her body still carried the lingering effects of the absurd incident by the door earlier. How could she not feel her son's bold, clumsy movements now?
When her leg was lifted, her heart skipped a beat. She almost turned over to stop him.
But somehow, she held back.
A hollow, throbbing sensation welled up from deep within her body. It was the instinct of a woman long deprived, easily awakened by the intensity at the door earlier and the heat of the young body behind her now.
She kept her eyes tightly shut, pretending to sleep, but a fierce battle raged in her heart.
Push him away? Scold him? Say "no" firmly like last time?
But... would it work? And... just rubbing like this through the pants... since it's not really going in... it probably... doesn't really cross the line, right? Just think of it as... comforting him? And... comforting myself a little too?
This thought made her toes curl in shame, but her body betrayed her mind.
When her son's hot, hard cock squeezed into the space between her thighs and began to thrust, a bolt of electric-like numbness suddenly exploded from deep within her pussy, rushing through her entire body.
She almost cried out, but could only bite down hard on her red lips, swallowing the sound.
She could feel herself getting wet down there very quickly. The crotch of her pajama pants became damp, hot, and sticky.
Each rough rub from her son just happened to scrape over her most sensitive clit and slit, sending waves of dizzying pleasure through her.
She sighed bitterly in her heart: Lin Jianguo, look at this family, look at your son... look at me too... I really... can't hold on much longer...
Behind her, her son's breathing grew heavier, his movements faster. Though he was holding back, the force of his thrusts clearly increased.
Su Yuqing held on desperately, but her body involuntarily trembled slightly with the rhythm.
One hand clutched the pajama fabric over her chest tightly, the other gripped the bedsheet so hard her knuckles turned white.
The pleasure piled higher and higher, like a constantly rising tide, about to overwhelm her.
Finally, she felt the body behind her stiffen violently. A deep, suppressed groan rose from the depths of his throat.
Immediately after, a gush of hot semen seeped through the two thin layers of cotton, dampening the skin between her legs.
He came.
Almost simultaneously, Su Yuqing also felt a strong contraction from deep within her womb, accompanied by a spasm-like peak of pleasure.
Her vision went white. She almost cried out, but could only bury her face desperately into the pillow. Her body trembled uncontrollably as a rush of warm love juices gushed out, thoroughly soaking her panties and the bedsheet.
After I came, my mind went blank for a few seconds, then was immediately flooded with immense panic.
Shit!
I came on Mom's pants and the bed!
She's definitely going to wake up!
How do I explain this tomorrow?
I was so panicked I didn't dare move a muscle, frozen in place, feeling the wet stickiness beneath me, my heart pounding as if about to explode.
After a long while, there was no movement from Mom's side. Her breathing seemed... to have returned to being steady?
Did she not wake up? Or... she woke up, but isn't saying anything?
My mind was a jumbled mess. Whatever, never mind. Pretend to sleep first! Tomorrow I'll say... a wet dream! Yes, I'll say I had a dream and accidentally had a wet dream!
I carefully pulled my penis out from between her legs. It was still smeared with sticky fluid, indistinguishable as to whose it was.
I couldn't worry about that now. I gently lowered the leg I had lifted, then pretended to naturally roll over onto my back, lying flat, my arm naturally draped over Mom's waist.
Mom's body seemed to stiffen slightly, but she didn't pull away.
I held her, smelling the fragrance from her hair. Post-orgasm fatigue and a strange sense of peace washed over me simultaneously.
I stayed in this position, drifting off into a hazy sleep amidst my anxiety and the lingering afterglow.
And behind me, Su Yuqing, only after confirming that her son's breathing had become long and steady—that he was truly asleep—dared to move her own long-stiffened body with extreme care.
The cold, sticky wetness between her legs was a stark reminder of what had just happened.
She slowly opened her eyes, staring blankly and emptily at the ceiling in the darkness.
Her lips ached from being bitten, and a faint taste of blood lingered in her mouth.
In her heart, she silently repeated the name of her distant husband once more, which finally dissolved into an almost inaudible sigh, filled with weariness and self-mockery.
Then, she too closed her eyes, forcing herself to sleep.
The next morning, I was woken by the sound of birds chirping outside the window.
Blinking my eyes open groggily, I found the space beside me empty. On my mother's side, the quilt was neatly folded.
I sat up abruptly and looked down at myself.
My pajamas were on properly.
I quickly lifted the blanket to check the sheets—there was a faint, barely noticeable damp stain on my mother's side, but it was very light in color and not large.
I reached into my pants to feel my underwear.
There was a dry, sticky sensation inside, confirming that everything last night wasn't a dream.
I got up and walked out of the room, my heart filled with unease.
Mom was in the kitchen frying eggs, wearing her usual conservative home clothes, her hair loosely tied up at the back.
Hearing the noise, she glanced back at me, a gentle smile on her face, just like usual.
"Awake? Go brush your teeth and wash your face, breakfast will be ready soon."
Her expression was so natural, so natural that it made me even more unsettled.
I mumbled an acknowledgment and ducked into the bathroom.
While brushing my teeth, I looked at myself in the mirror, my mind replaying the details of last night and my mother's expression just now.
Did she know? If she knew, why didn't she scold me? If she didn't know... then who tidied the sheets?
With a belly full of questions, I sat down at the dining table. Fried eggs, milk, toast—the same as usual.
I buried my head in my toast, stealing glances at Mom. She was sipping her milk, looking out the window, her profile calm.
This meal felt like sitting on pins and needles.
Finally, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I put down my milk glass, took a deep breath, and spoke, my voice dry with tension:
"Mom... I'm sorry."
Mom turned her head, looking at me with clear, puzzled eyes. "What's wrong, An'an? Why are you suddenly apologizing?"
I opened my mouth, but my throat felt blocked. How could I say, 'Sorry I rubbed against your leg and came while you were asleep last night'? How could I possibly say that out loud?
Looking at Mom's calm, even slightly innocent and questioning face, I suddenly became uncertain. Could it be... she really didn't know? Was everything last night just my dream? Or was she sleeping too soundly?
"N-nothing," I stammered, lowering my head and poking at the fried egg on my plate with a fork. "Just... saying it randomly."
Mom looked at me for a few seconds, didn't press further, and turned her head back to continue drinking her milk.
But I clearly saw, in that instant she turned away, the corner of her mouth seemed to curve upwards, extremely quickly.
It was a very subtle, almost imperceptible curve, carrying a hint of... mischief? Or something else?
Did I see wrong?
My heart skipped a beat, and my mind became even more chaotic.
After a while, I looked up at Mom's profile, which looked especially soft in the morning light, and blurted out another thought, seemingly out of nowhere:
"Mom, you're really pretty today."
Mom's hand holding the cup paused.
She didn't turn around, but the roots of her ears visibly began to slowly turn red.
After a moment, she finally let out a soft "Mm," her voice carrying a trace of an imperceptible, gentle sweetness.
"Hurry up and eat. You have tutoring class later, don't be late."
-------------------------
You guys can get access the early chapters in my patreon: patreon.com/FloppyQueen
In there you guys can access 15+ chapters early.
Also thank you guys for all the support.