(i)
I raped my mom when I was 17, raped her twice.
I was already an oedipal, and my relationship with my mother had always been very close. At that time, I was very depressed because I had failed the college entrance examination, and an adolescent boy has a strong sexual desire.
It was about three o’clock that afternoon, and my mother was still taking a nap. I passed by the door to my mother’s room, which was ajar, and I happened to see my mother lying on the bed, the blanket covering her lifted to one side, revealing her body wearing only a piece of underwear.
That snow-white flesh made my heart suddenly thud wildly, when my father went on a business trip, no one else at home. I couldn’t help but gently push open the door to my room, tiptoe in, and stand at the head of the bed looking at my mother.
One of the top buttons of my mother’s underwear had somehow come loose, and most of her breasts were exposed. I had never seen my mother like this before, and I just felt the blood rush upwards throughout my body.
At that moment, I suddenly realized that my mother was wearing a pair of loose-fitting panties, the hem of which was blown up by the fan that was on, and I squatted down, and oh my God, I saw my mother’s pussy! That part of her was exposed to me in full view!
I’m still just a seventeen year old boy, ah, how can I withstand such temptation? I couldn’t hold back any longer, and all of a sudden I lunged.
Mother was awakened and realized what I was trying to do and struggled desperately, but I held her down… After the incident, Mother was in agony and she cried for a long time, cursing me as she cried… I was shocked too, so I knelt down and begged for forgiveness… She ignored me and just cried… For a few days afterward, Mother couldn’t recover, avoiding me all the time and locking her door tightly at night when she went to bed.
After my initial feeling of fear, the thievery came back.
One day, a week later, I finally found another opportunity to rape her again.
I was able to get away with it the second time mainly because I was emboldened by seeing that my mother didn’t make a sound and just ignored me.
After that time, my mother’s face was pale, and she gritted her teeth and scolded me, calling me an ungrateful son and not a human being, and she sat there dumbfounded after crying and scolding me.
I was also horrified and disgusted at what I had done down there, and got on my mother’s knees again, vowing never to do it again.
A few days later my father returned from a business trip, and of course he would not know what was happening at home.
More than a month passed and things gradually calmed down.
One night, when my father wasn’t home and I knew he would be late, the sinful desires kicked in again.
I stopped my mother in her bedroom and forced myself on her.
This time, I was met with stubborn resistance from her. She said she wouldn’t do anything else, and she intimidated me that if I didn’t stop, she was going to scream, she was going to tell my father about it, that she didn’t care about anything.
I was really intimidated, and if she did tell my father, then I couldn’t imagine the consequences. With that, I backed off and the same thing never happened again.
The next year I finally got into a university in a foreign country, and after graduation I was assigned to a foreign country, and from then on this incident was like a long-ago nightmare buried deep in my heart.
This incident affected me in ways that are hard to describe.
First of all, the intimacy between my mother and I was completely destroyed.
Over the years, I rarely came home; we were both afraid of confrontation. Even when we did meet, my mother rarely spoke to me, barely coping with me so as not to arouse my father’s suspicions.
I also have a great sense of guilt and guilt in my heart, and it is conceivable how someone who has had this experience can survive in society! I am still not married, I don’t even have a girlfriend.
I often recalled that nightmare in the dead of night, trembling, and only used wild masturbation and third-rate prostitutes as an outlet for my secret desires…
I also felt very sorry for my mother. After that incident, my mother’s whole personality changed and she quickly became emaciated; how could she bear such a terrible secret and pain?
We never talked about it, and there were a few times when I had the chance to make amends and comfort her, but as soon as I saw her cold, frosty face, I flinched.
I read a lot of books on psychology trying to figure out why I committed the sins I did.
I thought I loved my mother very much, and while there were reasons why I could not get rid of my sexual desires, I also used my love for my mother to justify my behavior. But does love for my mother have to mean having sex with her?
Yes, sex is the highest state of love, but this law is also suitable for the relationship between mother and son? Even if it is, it can’t be done in such a way as rape. Even if there can be sex between a mother and her son, it can only be voluntary and can’t be harmful to both parties.
I’m very remorseful now.
I lost my mother and I loved her so much and still do. And, honestly, despite my great remorse, I still cling to her now.
I sometimes think I would still have sex with my mother if she agreed to it now, even though she’s so old now.
(to be continued)