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Some say the progression between the protagonist and his mother is too fast. I must clarify, it's not. What follows is an insertion into her anus, not the vaginal birth canal of the so-called 'White Tiger.' Moreover, I want to point out how peculiar women can be; when they desire something, all reason flies out the window, making them seem foolish.
The true incest between the protagonist and his mother stems from an incident that occurred later. As for touching my mother's buttocks, that did happen in reality. As a child, not knowing any better, I played with her buttocks. However, in reality, I am a filial son, and it never escalated to incest. I merely exaggerated the buttocks-touching story, embellishing it with fictional elements for narrative purposes.
Therefore, I write based on my own feelings, and it doesn't feel too fast to me.
Haha, this chapter doesn't have much erotic content. For those who enjoy such scenes, this might be disappointing. But I believe there's no need to overload the story with excessive eroticism. What do you think? Sigh, there are few who appreciate the effort. Is it the writing that's lacking, or is the subject matter not to their taste? A little encouragement would be nice.
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Wiping the sweat off, an immense pleasure caused me to tremble uncontrollably. The sight before me was astonishing—my mother's snow-white, tender buttocks glistened with sweat, and the head of my 18cm thick penis had already penetrated her incredibly cute anus.
Ah! So exhilarating, I exhaled in pleasure. Looking down, my mother was panting heavily from excitement, her red panties now hanging on her thighs. The extreme close-up visual impact left my mind blank. Her raised buttocks revealed a delicate, pink slit, from which beads of moisture were seeping out.
One can only imagine how amazing it felt to thrust into that honey-pot-like opening within the fleshy slit!
I underestimated the power of fantasy. Lost in my imagination, my mind went blank, and I quickly grabbed my mother's buttocks, pushing my excited body forward another distance.
I heard my mother let out a heart-wrenching cry: 'No!'
Ah! Too tight. Trembling, my toes curled, and I threw my head back, shouting, 'Mom, I'm cumming, it feels so good, your butt feels amazing. Ah...'
With a long roar, I felt half of my penis buried deep in my mother's anus, the pleasure attacking every pore and permeating every cell of my body.
"Ah..." My mother and I cried out simultaneously as streams of hot liquid surged from the urethra of my penis. With each throb, I gripped my mother's buttocks tighter.
Finally, I experienced my first ejaculation as a man, releasing into my mother's adorable anus. After the release, our tensed bodies formed a lewd yet beautiful tableau of nude human art.
A fourteen-year-old boy, clutching the fleshy buttocks of a beautiful, panting young woman with her plump rear raised, knelt behind her, breathing heavily as half of his thick, robust penis was inserted into her anus. The woman, with her buttocks raised in a lewd manner, buried her strikingly beautiful face between her arms, motionless...
As my heightened desire gradually subsided, I looked down at my mother, who was struggling to prop herself up. Just as I was about to admire her smooth, hairless mound, she shot me a glance, her face flushed a deep red as if about to drip with moisture, quickly pulling up her panties to cover the small, mound-like flesh between her legs, then lightly slapped me.
It was my first time doing such a thing, and I was at a loss for what to do next. I simply knelt dumbly behind my mother, my clumsy little hands releasing her fleshy buttocks to gently caress the cotton-like surface, covered in sweat and a pinkish flush of excitement. It seemed my mother was also very excited, nearing her climax.
At that moment, women are most sensitive; a single touch could make them erupt. With each touch, my mother's anus twitched, making it impossible for me to pull out as she let out a cry.
My mother, who had just tried to prop herself up, suddenly collapsed weakly, quickly using her hands to brace against the ground. Her body trembled inexplicably as she turned her head with a seductive glance, her voice quivering, "Son, mommy's about to come, it feels so good. Rub mommy's big buttocks harder, I'm about to come, ah... quickly, rub harder..."
As if obeying a sacred decree, I vigorously kneaded my mother's buttocks with both hands, as if trying to crush them. My mother let out a loud 'Ah,' tilting her head back, her words indistinct and unclear, while she used one hand to massage her own large breast.
My member, which had just ejaculated inside my mother's anus, showed no signs of softening. As I kneaded her large buttocks, I moved them in and out of her anus, careful not to go all the way in to avoid causing her pain. Halfway in was enough to bring her to the brink of climax.
Together, we worked towards my mother's climax. Suddenly, her hand, which had been massaging her own breast, fell away. Her large buttocks twisted uncontrollably, a dizzying sight, as she cried out, 'Ah, son, mommy's coming, ah...'
My mother's tensed buttocks suddenly stopped moving. I saw her voluptuous, beautiful body tremble a few times, and I wondered what was happening to her. But when I looked down at her underwear covering her mound, it was already soaked, as if something had been ejaculated onto it.
The moisture spread, soaking the entire underwear, clinging tightly to her protruding, fleshy mound. The sensuality of her flesh and the wetness made me squeeze her buttocks tighter. The shape of a woman's private parts was fully revealed, especially the soaked, seemingly sucked-in crevice, which filled me with wild thoughts.
Only then did my mother prop herself up, gently pushing me away, not daring to look at me. I sat dumbfounded on the ground, watching as she tore off a piece of tissue, pressed it against her anus. The wrinkled vortex twitched, and a thick, white liquid flowed out from her anus, a lot of it. No wonder, it was my first time.
My mother's face flushed with embarrassment. She glanced at me shyly, said nothing, then lightly kissed me on the cheek. After adjusting her clothes, she helped me up, noticing my member had softened, and helped me into my pants. Softly, she said, 'Xiaoyao, go eat. Be good.'
As if nothing had just happened, my mother then took a stool to continue washing clothes, her fleshy, large buttocks looking incredibly sensual on the stool.
I faintly sensed that my mother was still panting slightly.
But Mom didn't say anything, which made me even more puzzled. A woman's heart is as deep as the ocean. I couldn't fathom what she was thinking at that moment.
After I finished eating, Mom had already done the laundry. When I'm usually at home, she always hums songs while hanging the clothes, but this time, her expression was indifferent. Normally, she would smile gently at me, but now, she wouldn't even give me a glance.
It was then that I realized women are ultimately mysterious creatures. You can play with them, laugh with them, and live with them, but once you break the taboo and tear apart the most fragile yet unbreakable unspoken contract between men and women, they always feel shy inside, especially since we are mother and son.
I gently approached Mom and called out, 'Mom.'
Mom ignored me, continuing to hang the clothes with her big hips swaying, as if I didn't exist.
It was the first time I saw Mom like this, and I panicked, not knowing what to do.
I just stood there, watching Mom move back and forth. Her movements became faster, and she flung the clothes with more force, as if hating something. Finally, she stood still with her back to me, head down, shoulders shaking as if she was about to cry.
Looking at Mom's beautiful back, I walked over and hugged her from behind. Mom forcefully pushed my hands away and almost shouted, 'Don't touch me. Mom is dirty. Mom is a shameless woman.'
'Mom!'
I called out to Mom with red eyes.
Mom's shoulders shook even more violently as she covered her face and cried.
I hugged Mom again and said, 'Mom, why would you say that?'
Mom gently stroked my head, half with affection, half with shyness, her face streaked with tears like a pear blossom in the rain, which broke my heart.
Mom murmured, 'How could we do such a thing? We're mother and son. What's wrong with me today? I've led my son astray. Will you forgive Mom?'
I nodded and said, 'Mom, it's not your fault. It's mine. I saw something I shouldn't have today.'
Mom smiled through her tears and said, 'It's not your fault. You're still young. It's all Mom's fault. Mom is also a woman. Ever since you were born, your dad has rarely touched me, so... so, in short, we can't do this again, okay? Promise Mom.'
I nodded, kissed my mother on the cheek, and said with a mischievous smile, 'Mom, I feel so good. Peeing feels really good.'
My mother laughed and scolded me, hitting me lightly, 'You little rascal, it's all your fault for corrupting me.'
I helped my mother hang the clothes. In a better mood, she started singing again. We live in a remote mountainous area mixed with ethnic minorities, most of whom are good at singing and dancing, expressing all emotions through songs.
My mother has the blood of ethnic minorities in her, so she's naturally good at singing and dancing with a loud and clear voice. She often says that if she hadn't married the wrong person, she could have been a singer.
Then I heard my mother sing, 'The clear, rippling water is the tears of Phoenix Mountain. The white, snowy peaks, why do you always stay on the mountain tops? Someday I'll come to your home to keep you company...'
I wrapped my arms around my mother's slender waist and continued singing, 'Keep me company, and I won't shed tears anymore. I'll dress you in a phoenix crown and rosy robe, make you my bride. Take off your silk skirt, let your brother see enough. We'll be entwined till old age, have a chubby baby...'
My mother looked at me with charming eyes, a mix of reproach and shyness, tapped my forehead with her delicate finger, and giggled, 'You little rascal, where did you learn such a vulgar tune? That's not how it's supposed to be sung.'
I chuckled, held my mother tighter, and danced with her in the yard. Honestly, I inherited her talent. She often taught me to dance. Feeling somewhat emotional, I gazed at her cherry-red lips and couldn't resist kissing her. Suddenly, she pushed my head away unhappily, saying, 'Don't do that. Can you kiss me there?'
I laughed mischievously, gave her firm buttocks a playful slap, and she let out a soft moan before hitting me back. I said, 'Mom, if I can touch you here, what's wrong with kissing?'
My mother looked at me, half resentful, half delighted, pounded my chest, and giggled, letting me hold her slender waist as we swayed to the primitive dance in the yard. Enjoying the mature, orchid-like breath of my mother, I felt like the happiest person in history.
Women are all led astray by men. Don't go looking for those so-called pure and innocent girls; they simply don't exist in this world dominated by men. As long as men are happy and women have love in their hearts for men, nothing is too much, and women are willing.
The rapid change in Mama left me at a loss. They say a woman's face is like the sky in June, changing at a moment's notice. But it doesn't matter how Mama changes, as long as she's my mother, the Mama I love.
"What are you yelling about! It's broad daylight, aren't you afraid of embarrassing yourself!"
Just as I was being affectionate with Mama, exchanging glances, and gently kneading her fleshy buttocks, a deep male voice came from outside the yard.
Mama quickly pushed me away, straightened her clothes, and said to me, 'Your father is back.'
I felt unhappy inside, probably due to that kind of Oedipus complex that made me resentful.
The yard gate opened, and in walked a dark-faced man with a somewhat fierce and menacing appearance—that was my father.
Mama was usually a bit afraid of Baba, looking at him with reverence and saying softly, 'Master of the house, you're back?'
Baba didn't even acknowledge Mama. For such a beautiful and mature woman as Mama, Baba's immunity was almost at its peak. He didn't appreciate women; in his eyes, he only loved his mahjong and his cattle farm. Baba had some business acumen, doing a bit of trade, but the money from his business, apart from supporting the family, he spent all on gambling for fun.
Even, according to village gossip, there was a shameless woman in the village who cheated on her husband, seducing other men. Once, I heard Mama arguing with Baba, saying, 'That slut is good, why don't you marry her? I'll leave you, taking Xiaoyao back to my parents' home.'
After all, the wife is always better when she's someone else's. No matter how beautiful his own wife is, Baba always thought other men's wives had something special about them. No wonder Mama said Baba hadn't touched her in a long time.
I looked at Baba indifferently. He snorted coldly, glaring at me with his bull-like eyes, and said, 'You're back, and instead of studying or doing your homework properly, what are you yelling about?'
I glared back at Baba defiantly, my stubborn temper flaring up, and said, 'None of your business, my grades are just fine, I come in first every year.'
Dad got angry and was about to slap me, but Mom grabbed his hand and said, 'Head of the household, I was the one who taught Xiaoyao to sing. He's very obedient. I'll make sure he goes back to studying.'
Dad snorted and pointed at Mom, saying, 'You're no good either. At your age, howling like a ghost, making a fool of yourself in front of others. The kid takes after you, not learning anything good.'
Mom kept silent, humbly. I shouted at Dad, 'Don't you dare insult my mom. Do you even take care of the family? Always away from home. What kind of father are you?'
Finally, Dad lost his temper and slapped me, cursing, 'You little brat, Laozi will beat you to death!'
Being just a child, the slap made me see stars and stagger. Mom tried to hold Dad back but was shoved aside. Dad chased after me to hit me again. With a snort, I ran out of the yard. Dad picked up an iron rod and threw it at me. Luckily, he wasn't skilled, and it missed, just grazing past me.
I turned back and yelled, 'You're not my dad.'
With that, I ran far away, with Dad's furious curses echoing behind me.
I walked dejectedly along the village road, aimlessly, seething with anger at Dad's violent temper.
'You, who says there are lovers in this world, can't see through the vanity of life. Me, who says the matchmaker has eyes, can't see the butterflies flying and the colorful clouds drifting. Ah, you stand there ignoring me, do you know my heart is breaking?'
Suddenly, a delicate and deep singing voice reached my ears, filled with endless melancholy and sorrow.
I looked up to see the setting sun casting golden light on the flower beds of the Yu family's grand courtyard. The singing came from there, sounding familiar. I approached and leaned on the fence of the flower bed, seeing a beautiful young girl with tears on her fragrant cheeks, her cherry lips producing the song I had heard.
It was Qiu Xiang Jie! The Li family didn't dare to keep her, so she had been staying at her parents' home for over a year, sitting here every day.
Her singing sounded so desolate to me for the first time, striking a chord in my heart. I climbed over the fence and entered. Qiu Xiang, lost in thought, looked pitifully beautiful, unaware of my presence.
I moved closer to her, admiring her graceful figure sitting by the flower bed under the sunset, her sorrow adding to her charm. Her small breasts were wrapped in a pink lace blouse, her hair tied in two pigtails, staring blankly at the flowers.
Under the sunset, she looked like a fairy of flowers.
I gently crouched down, leaned in close to Qiu Xiang, and took a whiff of her snow-white neck. It was truly fragrant.
Qiu Xiang was so frightened that her beautiful face turned pale. Seeing someone approaching, she instinctively stepped back. Upon realizing it was me, she immediately blushed and dodged away as if shocked, too embarrassed to speak. Usually, she would smile at me, but today, perhaps because I saw her in such a compromising state, she felt too ashamed.
I chuckled and said, 'Sister Qiu Xiang, why do you always sit alone in the flower garden, lost in thought?'
Qiu Xiang rolled her beautiful eyes, gave me a look filled with endless shyness and fear, and without saying a word, she avoided me.
I laughed and said, 'No wonder Fu Gen would come after you. Such a beauty always sitting here would even stir a monk's heart.'
Finally, Qiu Xiang spoke up in a hurry, 'What are you talking about? You...'
She probably wanted to mention the incident in the cornfield but was too shy to bring it up, so she lowered her head again.
I leaned closer to Qiu Xiang's ear and whispered, 'Sister Qiu Xiang, don't be afraid. I didn't see anything in the cornfield, and I won't tell anyone.'
Qiu Xiang looked up at me with half-belief, our faces so close that our noses almost touched. Seeing that even at my young age, I already had the makings of a handsome man, with teasing and charming eyes, Qiu Xiang let out a soft moan and moved away again, murmuring, 'You're lying, you little liar!'
Her voice was like that of a lover's coquettish complaint, making my heart itch.
I placed my hand on Sister Qiu Xiang's shoulder and said, 'Sister Qiu Xiang, I wouldn't lie to you. I'll protect you, really.'
Qiu Xiang let out a sudden laugh, her eyes lowered in a faint smile.
I asked curiously, 'What's so funny? Why are you laughing?'
Qiu Xiang's flirtatious eyes wandered, glanced at my face, then she turned her head away and said softly, 'Thank you, Xiaoyao. If it weren't for you, I...'
I laughed and said, 'Sister Qiu Xiang, didn't you see that Fu Gen's thing was diseased? What if it infected you? How could you so easily give in to him?'
Qiu Xiang looked at me shyly, unable to speak: 'I... I...'
Then she let out a soft hum and said, 'And you say... you say you didn't see anything. You're a liar, a little liar.'
I laughed and said, 'Alright, I'm a little liar. By the way, Sister Qiu Xiang, what does 'the first time' mean?'
Qiu Xiang pouted, looked at me reproachfully, and lightly punched me, saying, 'Don't say that, you little rascal.'
I burst into laughter. Remembering Qiu Xiang's adorable little bottom and the pristine white womanhood nestled between her cheeks, I couldn't help but feel the stirring in my pants as the beauty stood before me. My hand stealthily reached out to touch Qiu Xiang Jie's bottom, giving it a gentle pat.
With a soft moan, Qiu Xiang swatted my hand away and pushed me, saying, 'You're bullying me too, you bad egg...'
Suddenly, noticing the tent in my pants, she stood up both embarrassed and angry, pushing me away, 'Go away, go away, you little rascal, bullying your sister, I won't talk to you anymore.'
Seizing the moment, I reached out again to pat her perky little bottom clad in jeans. Qiu Xiang lightly kicked me with her small foot, 'If you bully me again, I'll call for help.'
I quickly raised my hands in surrender, 'Alright, Qiu Xiang Jie, I won't dare anymore.'
Then, suddenly leaning close to Qiu Xiang's ear, I whispered, 'Qiu Xiang Jie, you're so beautiful, and your little bottom is even more beautiful than you.'
With that, I took off running.
Qiu Xiang stamped her little foot in frustration, then lowered her head with a shy smile—a smile that was truly beautiful...