Chapter 11: Forced

The bedroom was dead silent, and the atmosphere was particularly awkward.

Even though I was prepared, I felt my face burning under my mother’s stare.

My mother glared at me, her tone was sharp, and she shouted in a delicate voice: “Put on your pants, aren’t you ashamed?”

I grabbed the waistband of my pants in a hurry, and found that the side-lying position was a bit inconvenient, so I turned around and changed to a supine position, raised my buttocks slightly, and pulled my pants up to my waist to put them on. However, in this way, the penis that was not completely flaccid lay softly on the inside of my thigh like a thick and fat meat worm, and as I bent over and raised my hips, it was exposed to the air and entered my mother’s sight.

My mother’s face turned blue and red, and she turned her head quickly, pretending to be serious, “There is also the dirty stuff on the bed!”

Like a child who had done something wrong, I rolled up the semen-stained paper towel on the bed without saying a word, and then tiptoed to the trash can at the door and threw it in.

“You are becoming more and more lawless!”

My mother suddenly kicked my calf and glared at me. She was wearing slippers, so she didn’t kick hard, but more with a sense of blame. I knew I was guilty, and I didn’t dare to talk back, but just lowered my head and kept silent.

My mother didn’t say anything else, turned and walked to the living room, and said seriously: “Come out, let’s talk.”

When I heard this, my heart was in turmoil. Sure enough, only if I took the initiative, my mother would react, otherwise I would have thought she had forgotten that her son had a sex addiction.

My mother sat down on the sofa, her legs squeezed together, slightly tilted, her hands clasped on her thighs, looking at me seriously, silent for a long time, then slowly said: “What’s the matter? Why are you still asleep?”

I stood in front of my mother, lowered my head deeply, raised my hand to scratch the back of my head, and stammered embarrassedly: “Too, too tired.”

“Too tired?”

My mother frowned when she heard it, and subconsciously raised her voice, “Is it tiring to rest at home?”

“No, it’s masturbation, too tired, so I fell asleep.”