I fled the office as if escaping, still shaken.
The draft blowing through the corridor sent shivers down my spine.
As soon as I sat down, before I could even catch my breath, a familiar sweet scent of lily of the valley mixed with peach wafted over.
Su Wantang turned to the side, her round almond-shaped eyes filled with concern, and asked softly, "What did Lao Zhou call you for? Did you get scolded?"
"No," I said, rummaging through the rickety pile of books on my desk and finding the math test for the next class without even looking up. "I got caught daydreaming in class, it's nothing."
Su Wantang said "oh" and didn't ask any more questions. She then turned back to doing her practice problems.
I held the pen, my eyes fixed on the paper, but the image of my mother in the office just now kept lingering in my mind.
Her last words, "This is the last time," sounded like a warning, but her expression... I shook my head violently, trying to shake off these messy thoughts.
A sinister yet inexplicably heart-pounding label was stuck on like glue: "Obsessed with his son's big cock." Holy crap! Are you out of your mind?!
In the days that followed, I began to secretly observe my mother, like a secret agent hiding in the gutter.
At school, she remained the same strict Teacher Zhou, dressed in neat professional attire, her handwriting on the blackboard strong and powerful, her logic clear, and even when she occasionally called on someone to answer a question, her tone remained calm and evenly composed.
But I don't know if it's just my imagination, but I always feel like she looks at me a little more often, and when her eyes occasionally sweep over my seat... there's a kind of stickiness that's hard to explain.
At home, things became increasingly strange.
At the breakfast table. The sun was shining brightly. Shen Youyi, the little rascal, held her bowl of porridge, her eyes practically glued to her phone scrolling through Douyin (TikTok), her little head bobbing up and down with amusement.
My mother brought over a plate of freshly toasted bread, her target precise. She didn't hand it to my father, who was pouring milk closer to her, nor to Shen Youyi, who was still scrolling through Douyin. Instead, she circled around a bit, her arm almost brushing against my shoulder, and slammed the plate down right in front of me.
"Xiao Mo, eat it while it's hot."
There's nothing wrong, right?
But the moment I put it down, I felt my elbow being suddenly bumped by something extremely full, elastic and soft!
Through the thin loungewear, the incredibly large and soft touch, along with the faint scent of her body—a mixture of dish soap and unknown floral fragrance—sent a chill down my spine!
He looked up as if by conditioned reflex.
But Mom had already turned around and walked away as if nothing had happened, to get her own cup of coffee.
Only her round, perky buttocks, encased in her loungewear, briefly caught my eye.
Inside the car. On the way to school, I curled up in the passenger seat as usual. Mom turned the steering wheel and made a right turn.
Centrifugal force flung me toward the car door. In that instant, a long, straight leg, clad in thin casual trousers, seemingly unintentionally but steadily rested against the outside of my left thigh!
Through two layers of fabric, the firm, elastic feel and the warmth of the body transmitted through me like an electric current.
I could even feel a slight friction and pressure... My body instantly stiffened, I didn't dare to move, and I even held my breath for two seconds.
My mom? Zhou Huixin? She gripped the steering wheel expressionlessly, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, as if her left leg brushing against her son's leg was a natural consequence of gravity.
The most exciting part is in the classroom.
In a senior high school physics class, the experimental table next to the podium, which belonged exclusively to the physics teacher, was tall and large.
To explain the force analysis of a pulley system, Mom took a pulley system part from a demonstration model, seemingly about to go to the back to show the classmate.
The aisles in the classroom are already narrow.
She walked gracefully down from the podium, wearing those low-heeled black leather shoes. The sound of her high heels was neither hurried nor slow. My seat was in the far corner, against the wall, and quite low.
She held the model, her expression focused and professional, her gaze fixed on the pulley system.
Then—just as she brushed past my desk, her movements were incredibly natural and fluid, as if she were adjusting her posture while holding the model…
Snap.
A workbook was knocked to the ground by her arm.
Almost simultaneously, I felt the outside of my calf—to be precise, just above the calf muscle—being pressed down heavily and instantly by an extremely soft, incredibly elastic, round, fleshy object!
That instant of contact was so quick it felt like an illusion! But the squeezing sensation, the size, the warm, soft, and elastic touch... it was definitely... definitely those two big lumps on Mom's chest!
boom!!!
My blood rushed to my head, and all I could hear was my heart pounding. I felt like my face was burning red! I quickly bent down to pick up the exercise book from the floor, my head bowed low.
"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Mom's voice came from above, so calm it couldn't be calmer, even carrying a slight hint of reproach for "how could a student be so careless."
She didn't even glance at the book I picked up, and walked to the back with the model in her arms, leaving behind only a swaying figure wrapped in an elegant suit and the faint scent of gardenia perfume in the air.
I was clutching the workbook, my palms were sweaty, and my heart was pounding.
Was she doing it on purpose?
Was it an accident?
But the frequency of these precise "accidental touches" is just too high!
The words "obsessed with his son's big penis" burned through my mind like a red-hot iron. Could it really be like that?
Because she is an adult and has been through marriage, she has much better control over this "obsessive" state than the naive Shen Youyi, as if she is wearing an invisible but incredibly secure mask.
Is that serious, teacherly demeanor just an illusion?
This past week, I've been tormented by my mother's subtle touches and complex observations, feeling like I'm being roasted over a low flame.
On the surface, everything was calm. He studied, ate, slept, occasionally bickered with Shen Youyi, and went to his parents' room to get his test papers as usual.
Until that sweltering midnight.
I guess it was because I drank too much winter melon and pork rib soup at dinner, or maybe it was the pent-up frustration that made me so thirsty. Around 3 a.m., I was woken up by a strong urge to urinate. My mouth was dry, and my lower abdomen was bloated.
I groped my way out of bed in the dark, my feet feeling a little unsteady.
I opened the door, and the living room outside was pitch black.
I had just stepped towards the bathroom closest to my room when the light shining through the crack in the door of the guest bathroom next to the master bedroom caught my attention.
The door is closed, but light is still shining through? And it doesn't look locked? Who's using it in the middle of the night? Mom or Dad?
I was about to shout out who was inside when my throat felt blocked. A strong, almost eerie intuition seized me—it wasn't the normal noise of someone getting up at night.
It's too quiet.
It was eerily quiet, with no sound of flushing, only a very faint, sticky, watery, and thrilling squelching sound... like something repeatedly rubbing and colliding, accompanied by a suppressed, short breath.
As if possessed, I slowed my pace, almost holding my breath, and silently crept up to him like a well-trained thief.
The locks on the old house doors were worn out, the hinges were loose, and naturally there was a thin gap between the door panel and the door frame.
A dim, yellow light spilled out from the crack in the door.
I carefully, extremely slowly, brought one eye closer. My field of vision was very narrow, but it was enough.
At that moment, it felt like my heart was being gripped tightly by an icy hand and then thrown into boiling lava!
The bathroom lighting was warm. I saw my mother... no, the figure in the beige silk slip dress, sitting on the toilet seat with her back to the door!
She leaned forward slightly, one hand seemingly gripping something tightly against her face, greedily and passionately inhaling it again and again!
My blood froze instantly!
Because the shape and color of that thing were incredibly familiar—a pair of soft, gray-blue cotton briefs!
You can even see tiny wear marks on the edges, which belong to men and were left by their clothing!
That's the pair of pants I accidentally spilled milk on yesterday morning, which I took off and stuffed on top of the laundry basket! I haven't had time to take them away to wash them yet!
Her other hand was buried under the hem of her nightgown, stirring violently and chaotically in that unseen area between her legs!
Slender fingers traced an extremely erotic, rapidly moving outline beneath the fabric of the nightgown!
You can even clearly see the dramatic folds in the thin silk nightgown as it arches and collapses!
That sticky, blush-inducing squelching sound... the source is right there!
Her whole body was rhythmically thrusting and rubbing upwards! Sweat soaked a few strands of curly hair hanging down the back of her neck, sticking to her fair skin.
Just as my mind went blank, and I was completely stunned by this extremely shocking scene—
"…Ah…son…Xiao Mo…um…son's big…cock…"
Intermittent, indistinct, dreamlike moans filled with desire escaped from her mouth and nose, which were covered by my underwear and had her face covered!
The voice was sticky, as if it had been soaked in honey, and filled with an extreme thirst for desire!
"Mmm...so big...son's cock...fuck me to death...fuck me to death..."