Control
Copyright© 2025 by danbaifen
Chapter 97
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 97 - I want to be a good mother... I don't want to let my husband down... But, it's so satisfying...so painful...so unbridled...so beautiful... Adam...my only son...the son I carried for ten months...I really...can't live without him...Yes, I'm not in love with him...I just...can't live without him... Give love to my husband and body to my son?
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Incest Mother Son
The mother was still a little shy when she found out that the sexual tattoo was to be tattooed on her lower abdomen, but since things had come to this point, she had no way out and could only take off the underwear she had put on before going out in front of the female tattoo artist.
The female tattoo artist may have seen a lot of them, so even when she saw a combination of a young man and a beautiful woman like us, she didn’t say much and started tattooing diligently.
Exposing her pussy in front of a stranger was an experience my mother had never had before. I noticed that her toes were a little tense, and I realized that she might be a little nervous, so I asked to divert her attention: “Will it still hurt after the anesthesia?”
“It generally won’t hurt, but some people with sensitive constitutions may feel a little, so don’t worry too much.” The female tattoo artist gently used the tattoo needle to prick my mother’s smooth and tight belly. I saw my mother tremble slightly, so I guess she would feel something.
The tattoo needle left behind, leaving a few spots of pigment on my mother’s Diana -like fair skin, like a tiny flaw in a perfect jade, which did not look good. However, as the pattern was gradually outlined, a different kind of temptation began to emerge on my mother’s white skin.
“Open your legs a little.” The tattoo artist gestured to the mother.
My mother didn’t answer, but quietly spread her legs, revealing her pink and plump natural pussy. The whole pure pink was very beautiful. Even the female tattoo artist was stunned for two seconds when she saw it.
What was a bit embarrassing was that during the tattoo process, the semen that had just been ejaculated into my mother’s body somehow started to flow out of her vagina.
It is undeniable that when the white semen was squeezed out from the crevice of my mother’s pubic mound bit by bit, in addition to embarrassment, I also felt a different kind of temptation.
The female tattoo artist seemed to have never seen such a scene before. She was stunned for a few seconds before reacting. She glanced at me with complicated eyes and handed me a tissue: “Help her wipe it off.”
“Okay.” Even someone as thick-skinned as me couldn’t stand this embarrassing situation. Fortunately, my mother was wearing a mask and had closed her eyes and pretended to be dead.
I took the tissue and gently wiped my mother’s lower body. I was surprised to find that what was flowing out of her vagina seemed to be not only my semen, but also her own vaginal fluid.
Mom actually had feelings in this situation!
She had already climaxed twice, or was it that her body was too sensitive after the climax? At this moment, under the gaze of the strange tattoo artist, my mother seemed to feel particularly ashamed, her eyes were tightly closed, and she refused to open them at all.
As I wiped, my mother’s lower body seemed to get wetter and wetter. I had no way to deal with this situation. I could only put away the tissue in disappointment and pretend nothing had happened.
The female tattoo artist was not surprised at this time. Perhaps this was not the first time she had encountered such a thing. After wiping off the semen, she calmly began to work.
Fortunately, my mother’s lower body was only slightly wet, and there was no overflowing of vaginal fluid. There was just some occasional reflection of the light, which let me know that she was not at peace.
The episode passed quickly, and a dark red pattern of lust gradually appeared on my mother’s flawless white belly. The pattern in the middle looked like a peach heart and the soft flesh of the uterus. Below the peach heart, a glans-shaped pattern was kissing the tip of the peach. The arcs on both sides looked like the wings of a fallen angel and the horns of a devil, which had a unique flavor of decadence.
The bottom of the pattern extends directly to my mother’s pink and plump pubic mound, telling of a vague temptation that makes me salivate.
After wrapping the plastic wrap, the tattoo artist reminded: “Okay, don’t touch water today. It will form a scab in about three days. Don’t pick it with your hands. Just let it fall off naturally. There are some other precautions here. Take it back and read it yourself.”
I took the form, helped my mother up, asked a few simple questions, paid the money, and left quickly. My mother didn’t say a word during the whole tattoo process. Only after she walked a long way away did she say angrily, “Little beast, are you satisfied?”
Of course I was satisfied, very satisfied, but seeing my mother looking a little weak made me feel distressed: “Mom, does it hurt?”
“Tell me if it hurts?” Mom said shyly.
“I don’t think it hurts much. You were all wet just now and it’s hard to wipe it clean.”
My mother thought that the semen that was flowing out was her own sexual fluid, and she was speechless for a moment.
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