Chapter 8

The weather had been hot for a few days in a row, and finally there was a thunderstorm in the morning. The long-lost cool breeze blew in through the gauze window, lifting a few strands of wet hair on my mother’s forehead.

“So, you’re sick?”

I picked up the food with chopsticks and put it into my mouth, lowered my head, and poked at the phone screen with my other hand.

“Um.”

Mom responded, glancing forward with her watery eyes: “What are you doing?”

“Oh, a few classmates, just chatting.”

“Um.”

The mother and son continued to eat lunch. I didn’t ask what the illness was, and the mother didn’t want to explain. There was a strange tacit understanding in the silence.

After eating for a while, I pressed the lock screen button. As soon as I raised my head, my eyes met my mother’s.

“You (I)...”

A word popped out of their mouths at the same time, and then they stopped talking at the same time.

“You go first.”

I stared at my mother’s straight nose and said with a smile.

My mother hesitated for a few seconds and said, “I may have another attack in the future. Don’t be alarmed when you hear the noise.”

“You still have a chronic illness?”

“It’s hard to say...”

I said “oh” and took a big mouthful of rice, but it choked my throat and I was so anxious that my chest felt heavy. I waited for my mother to hurriedly bring me a glass of water, and then I gulped it down.

I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked my mother with tears in my eyes, but I saw that the concern and anxiety on her face had turned into teasing.

“Who’s trying to snatch it from you?”

As soon as she finished speaking, my mother couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing. Her pretty face was as bright as a blooming summer flower.

I looked at my mother and somehow started laughing too. My laughter got louder and louder, and I was leaning forward and backward.

After a long while, I wiped the corners of my eyes and asked suddenly, “Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“Your disease.” As if I was afraid that I hadn’t explained it clearly, I added, “Your voice sounds...” I raised my right hand and circled it around the side of my face a few times, as if describing something.

Mom lowered her head and took a mouthful of rice. After swallowing it, she raised her face. Her eyes curved into crescents, and her eye bags sparkled. “Not bad! You know how to care about mom!”

As a reward, my mother didn’t let me wash the pot for the first time, so I went back to the bedroom.

When I got back to my room, I checked my phone for a while. Then I put it down, stretched, and stared at the ceiling in a daze.

I suddenly recalled what happened in the bathroom earlier.

Five days have passed since I learned the truth. During these five days, in addition to going to my mother’s bedroom every night to have sex through the wooden door, I also look forward to the time when the pretty woman walks into the bathroom to take a bath every morning.

After all, wooden doors have very good sound insulation. Compared with glass doors, the stimulation is incomparable, which is like scratching an itch through a shoe.

With my mother by my side at home, I had no choice but to study hard, and my life was even harder than in school - at least when the teacher was supervising my studies, he would not be sitting there with his legs crossed and watching TV series.

I was feeling resentful, and when playing with the masturbation cup wasn’t enough to vent my feelings, I came up with some even worse ideas.

There was a sound of water splashing in the bathroom, and a blurry figure with barely discernible outlines was reflected on the glass door. It stood on the ground motionless, as if waiting for something, until I stuck out my tongue from outside the door and circled around the bright and tender flesh on the rim of the masturbation cup. Then the figure seemed to come alive and began to sway slightly.

After many verifications, I found that the tongue could make my mother get into the mood faster than fingers. After knowing the truth, I no longer had any aversion to the urethra above, and even felt that it was more stimulating for my mother to urinate in my mouth.

Of course, small stocks are okay, but big bubbles are not.

I’m such a pervert!

I thought to myself, but after the vaginal fluid gushed out, I didn’t wait for a second, and couldn’t wait to stick my penis into the masturbation cup, listening to the ups and downs of the singing from the other side of the door.

The gentle moans were clearly heard despite the obstruction of the glass door. The “squeaky” sound of the penis and the masturbation cup was also covered up. The sound of water in the bathroom also seemed to have a rhythm, ringing in my ears with each passing moment.

What was different from the past was that I suddenly stopped when my screams were about to reach their climax, and I suddenly opened the bathroom door. With an extremely abrupt sound of the door opening, I shouted to the figure in the bathroom, “Mom?”

The twisting figure froze instantly and the screaming stopped.

I put on a sly smile, deliberately walked to the bathroom door with heavy footsteps, knocked on the glass, and said with concern: “What’s wrong with you?”

As I said that, I started to stroke the masturbation cup quickly.

The figure began to move restlessly, casting an ever-changing, rough-edged outline on the glass door. Rapid, suppressed breathing came out from the crack in the door. A slender shadow suddenly rose up and pressed against the circular outline that was slightly smaller at the top.

I felt the tender flesh in my vagina, smiled secretly, put more strength in my hands, and continued to ask, “Mom?”

This time, I held the door handle with my palm and pressed down slowly.

The figure inside couldn’t hold it anymore, ran to the door and grabbed the door handle: “No ... um ... it’s okay.”

“I heard you yell...”

“I ... ah ... I’m fine!”

My mother’s voice was already a little tearful: “You get out first!”

I pressed against the door, not wanting to miss any sound. I slowly let go of the door handle and asked again, “Are you sure?”

In contrast to her concerned tone, her hands were pulling out the masturbation cup with increasing force. I even suspected that my mother could hear the thrusting sounds so close to her, but I was about to explode and didn’t care about that.

“go out!”

Mom let out several deep breaths and let out a real cry.

I replied “Okay”, slowly retreated to the bathroom door, pressed the door panel and pushed hard, then stared at the plump figure on the glass and started the final sprint.

Hearing the sound of the wooden door closing, the tight little hole suddenly loosened, and then tightened again under my violent thrusting. My mother seemed to be frightened, and except for the occasional groan, only heavy breathing came out.

When my semen valve loosened and shot my body fluids deep into the vagina, Mom finally couldn’t help but let out a long moan, and collapsed against the door twitching.

A mass of soft meat stuck to the glass, quickly spreading from a shadow into a large disc. In the center, there was a bulge that looked like a grain of meat, which was obviously darker in color. It abruptly pressed against the front end, creating a circle of black gaps.

The afternoon time is always long and torturous, especially today, I don’t know why my mother didn’t even watch the show, her eyes kept falling on my face, which made me feel uneasy, always wondering if I had exposed something.

“Is there something growing on my face?”

I couldn’t help it: “Why are you always looking at me?”

The mother looked at her son who lowered his head to continue studying, and then her thoughts drifted away.

She has been looking for patterns in physical abnormalities, trying to summarize some rules to minimize their impact on her life.

For now, it seems that the strange disease, well, that’s what she decided to call it for now.

This strange disease seemed to occur in two situations, one when she was outside and the other when she was at home.

The first situation cannot be summarized because she has encountered it too rarely and lacks a certain amount of practical experience, and she is absolutely unwilling to experience it even once again, so let’s ignore it for now.

As for when I’m at home...

The mother glanced at her son again. Just as she was summarizing her experience of the illness over the past few days, she suddenly discovered an incredible coincidence -

Every time she had an attack, her son was not around.

Saying this might be a bit hurtful to her son, so she thought for a moment and changed her statement to be more concise: the strange disease only occurred when she was alone.

Even this morning...

The mother blushed and scratched her nose unnaturally. She calmed her thoughts for a while and then thought: When she had a seizure in the morning while taking a bath, her son was very close to her, but there was a door between them, so she could barely be considered to be alone in a closed space...

So, the key lies with the son?

Or is this simply a coincidence?

The mother frowned and looked at her son’s face carefully. She stared at me so hard that I twisted my body. I was so uncomfortable that I threw the pen away and stood up: “I won’t write anymore!”

“Where are you going?”

My mother made a “tsk” sound and expressed dissatisfaction.

“Urine!”

night.

I was lying on the bed, staring at my phone to calculate the time. When it was almost time, I was about to get up to get the hidden masturbation cup when my mother pushed the door open holding a thin quilt.

I watched the woman walk up to me, throw the light pink quilt onto the bed, and stare at me with eyes as big as bells: “Mom, what are you doing?”

“Go inside!”

The mother took off her slippers, raised one of her tender white feet, kicked me aside, and rudely squeezed onto the bed. She smiled at her son and said, “I’ve been watching horror movies recently, and I’m a little scared to sleep alone.”

...

A few days later.

I stood at the bedroom door, my arms folded and my shoulders leaning against the door frame, staring at the plump figure with an expressionless face.

My mother was cooking with brisk movements. She was humming some tune and twisting her waist to the rhythm from time to time. It was obvious that she was in a good mood.

But I was in a very bad mood.

I had a wet dream today.

These semens should have been irrigated into the small hole of the masturbation cup to promote its growth, but now they are wasted. I feel very sad.

Every night, my mother would squeeze into the same bed with me under the pretext of watching horror movies ... Although my bed is not small and is more than enough for two people to sleep in, I have no chance to masturbate with my mother around.

Not to mention using a masturbation cup, even going back to the past and reading novels and masturbating has become a luxury.

As for taking advantage of my mother while she is asleep ... haha, I wouldn’t dare.

This is not the gentle and beautiful mother in the storybooks. If I were to be discovered, I would be skinned alive if I didn’t die - in the physical sense.

When an old female cat gets angry, she can really scratch people.

I stared at my mother’s shaking buttocks. The more I looked, the more provocative I felt. Finally, I took a deep breath, gave her a final fierce look, and walked back to the bedroom to take out the masturbation cup that had been sealed for several days.

The masturbator is still as good as new and seems to never change.

It’s strange to say, since it first grew until now, it has been filled with no less than ten loads of semen, far more than the first two days, but it has not changed at all.

I don’t know if it’s because the amount of semen required for regrowth is too large, or if there are some other triggering conditions.

I shook my head, looked at the rim of the masturbation cup, and squinted my eyes.

The bright red tender flesh was piled together, and the ecstatic hole was in the middle. I picked up a gel pen on the desk, pointed it at the hole, hesitated for a while, and then put my hand down.

Never mind, she’s my mom after all.

It must be very painful if it’s stuck in like this.

Before when I didn’t know, I could play with it without any burden, but now I can’t do it.

I leaned out and looked at my mother, who was completely oblivious to the danger that had passed by. The song she was humming seemed to have reached its climax, her waist twisted more and more happily, and her buttocks trembled with every step.

I became more and more annoyed by what I saw. I weighed the masturbation cup in my hand and came up with an idea.

I held the cup with both hands, stretched out my two thumbs to pry open the bright and tender flesh at the mouth of the cup, and forced the urethra in the middle to appear.

As my mother’s back gradually stiffened, I closed my lips together, pursed them into a black hole, and sucked hard on her urethra.

“ah!”

The mother let out a scream and her body visibly twitched. She covered her belly and shouted in panic, “Son! Son!”

I suppressed the smirk on my face, hid the masturbator in my shirt, covered my stomach with one hand, and walked out of the room slowly: “What’s wrong?”

“No ... I’m fine.”

After her son came over, the physical abnormalities disappeared. The mother breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Stand here with me for a while.”

“I need to go to the bathroom!”

I rubbed my belly in a formal manner.

“Hold it!”

I calmed down and rationally didn’t respond. Instead, I walked over to my mother, got close to her neck and sniffed it: “How many days have you not showered? You stink.”

“How is that possible?”

My mother was like a rabbit whose tail was stepped on. She immediately retorted: “It’s been cool these days, I haven’t sweated at all...”

The sound became smaller and smaller, and was almost inaudible at the end. She lowered her head and sniffed her body twice, and finally asked in a low voice: “Is there really a smell?”

“Um...”

I nodded deeply, then hissed, turned around and rushed to the bathroom.

“Hey! Don’t...”

My mother reached out and grabbed nothing, and started cursing in anger.

But the son still ran into the bathroom and closed the door. The mother looked at the suddenly empty house and suddenly felt uneasy.

I sat on the toilet and farted a few loudly. Then I took out the masturbation cup from my arms, licked my lips, and sucked on its urethra.

“See if you can hold it in!”

Ignoring the trembling and contracting tender flesh, I forced open the dark hole and took another sip.

Bang!

The bathroom door was pushed open hard, hitting the wall with a loud bang.

Then, a figure pressed against the glass door of the bathroom, and my mother’s urgent voice came in: “Are you done? I need to go to the bathroom!”

“I just sat down.”

I replied slowly, pouting my lips and taking another bite.

“Hmm!”

My mother let out a high-pitched moan and quickly banged on the glass: “You get up first, I can’t hold it anymore!”

I laughed secretly and sucked hard on the urethra. This time, I felt a stream of warm water flowing into my mouth. Only a small amount came out and was cut off by the suddenly tightened flesh hole.

“babble!”

My mother sounded like she was about to cry: “Hurry up! I have to pee!”

I had just said half of my words when I saw the door handle begin to tilt downwards - my mother was actually planning to ignore everything and just open the door and come in!

I was instantly startled and broke out in a cold sweat. Fortunately, the toilet was very close to the door and I could reach it with my hand. I turned the door lock, lowered my head and spit the liquid in my mouth into the toilet, and quickly replied, “Wait! I’ll be right there!”

After saying that, I summoned up my last bit of strength and sucked hard towards the urethra.

Halfway through the sucking, I suddenly had a premonition, so I turned the masturbation cup over and pointed it downwards towards the toilet. Almost at the same time, accompanied by a long wail from my mother outside the door, a stream of light yellow water gushed out and sprayed on the inner wall of the toilet, splashing countless water.

The sound of dripping water lasted for a long time and then subsided.

When I hid the masturbation cup and walked out, I saw my mother lying face down on the sink with her round buttocks raised high. There was a dark wet stain on her pajamas that spread from her crotch to the inside of her thighs.

“Come out?”

My mother raised her head, revealing a pair of red eyes, but her tone became extremely calm.

“Um.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

Mom said this and went straight into the bathroom.

While washing my hands, I rinsed my mouth and then closed the bathroom door forcefully. However, I became dazed after taking out the masturbation cup from my arms.

A pair of red eyes kept circling in my mind, and the emotions contained in them made me dare not look at them.

I suddenly felt that my behavior was a bit excessive.

Several days of abstinence seemed to pull me out of the sea of desire.

But my penis was so hard that it hurt, and when I heard my mother’s sharp scream just now, I almost ejaculated!

The long-lost irritability made me feel even more tormented. I glanced around at everything, but my eyes were unfocused. Until my gaze fell on the masturbation cup in my hand, an inexplicable anger burst out from my chest.

“It’s your fault!”

I looked up at the figure in the bathroom.

“It’s all your fault!”

I gritted my teeth, inserted my fingers into the vagina and dug hard a few times. When the vagina became slightly slippery, I inserted my hard penis all the way in.

It was a little painful when it first entered, but soon the familiar comfort wrapped around my lower body, and the cries of pain in the bathroom turned into gentle whimpers lingering in my ears.

Perhaps it was the impure desire that made me last so long this time, or perhaps it was the mature body that had been absconded for several days that was aroused by sexual desire. By the time I poured my semen into her vagina, my mother had climaxed three times.

So much so that when I saw my mother walk out of the bathroom, there were still two blushes on her little face that wouldn’t fade away.

But what the woman said next, with her lustful face, surprised me.

Even a little scared.

My mother sat next to me and roughly described the characteristics of her own illness. She also revealed her summary of the strange disease and finally pointed out that I was the key to avoiding the recurrence of the disease.

The mother’s meaning was very clear. She hoped her son could understand some of her behaviors and try to cooperate.

But when these words fell into my ears, they stirred up a storm in my heart.

I couldn’t believe that my mother, who had remained silent all this time, had secretly figured out the pattern of this so-called symptom and even pointed the finger at me!

In a way, I was exposed.

If it weren’t for the mother-child relationship, which naturally carries with it trust, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to sit here quietly and enjoy the peace and tranquility of my family.

“I know, Mom.”

My voice was a little trembling, but I tried my best to control it.

The next day, before dawn, the starry sky was still visible in the early morning light. Despite being exhausted from not sleeping all night, the mother made a rich and loving breakfast. Although it was still early, she dragged her son out of bed. Even if he didn’t sleep well, a fresh breakfast would always be better than a hot one. Besides, bedtime can be rearranged, but if the breakfast gets cold, it will really get cold.

I walked into the bathroom with sleepy eyes, rolled up my pajamas sleeves, dipped the towel into the hot water in the basin, soaked it in boiling water, wrung it out, and covered my face with the hot towel, which was particularly comfortable and refreshing. After washing my face, I took a long breath and looked at myself in the mirror. There was a layer of light dark circles around my eyes. I got up so early again.

“Put on your pajamas! What will it look like?” I heard my mother’s serious reminder as soon as I came out of the bathroom.

“Mom, morning erections are normal. I can’t control them.” I looked down after hearing that. It turned out that it was because of the morning erection and the lack of elasticity in my pajamas. The crotch of my pants was pushing up the towering peak, and the belt was pushed open. A few pubic hairs came out, and my mom saw it.

“Can’t adjust?”

“Got it!” He turned his wrinkled pajamas and could only let his penis hang crooked.

Sitting at the dining table, today mom made two slices of toast, air fryer meatballs and boiled dumplings. Although the taste was ordinary, my son pretended to wolf down the food as if it were a delicacy. Sure enough, mom’s eyes became gentle.

“Son, Mommy is going to the hospital in a bit. You should finish the last four tests at home in the morning, as well as a few English text translations and poetry readings. Finish them before noon. I’ll be home around that time. Did you hear me?”

“So many again? Mom?” He lowered his head and looked at his mother, with a begging look in his eyes.

“And modern history”

“Mom, why are you adding another subject?” I immediately became anxious when I heard that there was another subject. “I already have enough main subjects.”

“I believe you. Just like usual, come back at noon to check. Copy the wrong questions into your wrong answer book. Remember to do them carefully.”

“I know, Mom. So why did you go to the hospital?”

“Do a full body check.”

“Examination? Is it a gynecological disease?” I asked nervously.

“It’s just a simple health check.”

“Huh, okay.”

After dinner, I was about to clean up the dishes, but was stopped and sent back to my room to do my homework. I pouted my lips and whispered a few words in a voice that only I could hear.

Soon after, as my mother left with the sound of the door hitting the frame, I knew that for the next few hours, there would be no one in the house but me.