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Chapter 8 Fallen Mother Volume Two: Continuation
The bedroom was silent.
When Old Jiao said those words, Mom was instantly stunned, her beautiful face showing clear surprise.
Sitting at my computer, I was so angry my veins bulged this old man was shameless. At his age, how could he say something like that?
Not only that, but Old Jiao's skin was thick he said it with such deep feeling, as if he truly loved Mom.
If he hadn't been sitting on the windowsill, his words probably wouldn't have had much effect.
But right now, he was perched there, one leg already out the window, looking like he really might jump, so no one could doubt his sincerity.
Most people fear death, but Old Jiao's apparent "fearlessness," combined with his dramatic words, made a real impact.
Old Jiao gazed at Mom with deep affection, his eyes urgent but also a little anxious.
After all, he couldn't be sure if his words would work would Mom accept them?
If not, what would he do?
I don't know what Old Jiao was thinking, but it was probably something like that.
At that moment, Mom looked at Old Jiao on the windowsill, her gaze sharp as if trying to see through him. But Old Jiao's face was so earnest, she couldn't find any sign of pretense.
The room was quiet for a long time. Finally, Mom spoke: "Come down first."
Old Jiao stammered, "I… I won't come down!"
"If you don't come down, are you really going to jump?"
"You don't like me," Old Jiao said, looking hurt. "Besides, I'm just a useless old man, can't do anything. If I die, at least I won't be a burden to you."
At my computer, my fists clenched tight.
What do you mean, not a burden?
If you really didn't want to burden Mom, you'd just go back to the village!
I wanted to shout, but I knew this was all in the past no matter how upset I got, it wouldn't change anything.
After a while, Mom spoke again: "Enough, come down. If you die, everything's over. As long as you're alive, there's always hope."
Old Jiao looked confused. "I never went to school, girl, what do you mean?"
Mom gave him a flirtatious glance, seemed to gather her courage, and said, "If you die, how can you like me?"
Old Jiao froze, not understanding at first. After a while, he finally got it, his face lighting up with joy as he hurried to get down from the windowsill.
But he moved too quickly, accidentally hurting his injured leg, and his face twisted in pain.
At that moment, Mom walked over and grabbed his arm to steady him. "Careful, don't open your wound."
Old Jiao grinned happily, "Okay, okay, whatever you say."
With Mom's help, he slowly pulled his leg back inside and stood on the floor.
But as soon as he stood, his face changed, pain twisting his features, and he stumbled forward, crying out.
He was a heavy man, and as Mom supported him, she staggered too, and both of them fell onto the bed together.
Mom landed on her back, and before she could react, Old Jiao's short, skinny body fell on top of her. In a flash, they were pressed close together Old Jiao on top, Mom underneath.
As Old Jiao landed on her, Mom's face showed a hint of panic and she immediately tried to push him off.
But Old Jiao clung to her, moaning, "Oh, it hurts, it hurts so much…"
He was heavy, and Mom couldn't push him away.
Mom was helpless, a blush spreading across her snow-white cheeks, her breath quickening, lips slightly parted as she panted.
At first, I didn't understand, but soon I noticed the trick:
Old Jiao's chest was pressed tightly against Mom's, squashing her full, proud breasts. Even through her thin shirt, you could see the flesh of her breasts bulging out to the sides, like snow cakes being pressed flat.
And whether it was on purpose or not, as Old Jiao cried out, his body kept moving almost like he was… thrusting!
Mom's cheeks grew even redder, glistening and dewy, her brows furrowed as if in pain.
Then I noticed another detail: Old Jiao's hands were gripping the bedsheet. That meant no matter how hard Mom pushed, she couldn't budge him.
At that moment, Old Jiao said, "Don't move, girl, don't move. The more you move, the more my leg hurts…"
Mom hesitated for a moment, then let out a long sigh and stopped struggling.
A flicker of joy flashed across Old Jiao's brow.
Though he told Mom not to move, he himself kept shifting slightly, his good leg on the floor, his injured one raised, his whole body pressed against Mom's mature, voluptuous figure, gently thrusting. His eyes were full of pleasure.
Even just rubbing through their clothes, Old Jiao was in heaven.
Mom's cheeks flushed deeper, as if she'd given up resisting. I guessed she knew what Old Jiao was doing, but didn't call him out maybe hoping he'd finish quickly.
But what neither of us expected was that after a while, Old Jiao got bolder, and one of his hands began to sneak toward Mom's full, proud chest.
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