Good girls are hard to find.
First, girls are realistic. Housing is tight, and girls won’t look over if they can’t afford to buy a house.
Secondly, I work in the service industry. In order to get more allowances, I often work night shifts, and my colleagues are all men, so I cannot get a girlfriend.
Thirdly, he is naturally introverted, not good at socializing and is regarded as a big bore.
The biggest problem is that Grandma lists ten conditions for choosing a daughter-in-law. Later on, there were no questions about any of the conditions. As long as it’s a woman.
But a woman who will marry you and you don’t hate isn’t easy to find. As time went by and the years wore on, I almost gave up on the idea of getting married. I’m not even interested in dating anymore.
Two mothers and children living together, life is taken care of. She takes care of everything in my life, what I eat, what I wear. Because of her, I have no shortage of female companionship. The only thing she can’t do for me is to arrange a way out for my sperm.
I’m sorry for my mom, sometimes she’s the object of my sexual fantasies. I can’t help it, she always likes to wear that tight dance outfit and practice square dancing at home. At her age, she shouldn’t have worn such sexy clothes, because she still kept her body in shape and showed off her curves to the public. I always thought that the dances of the older women were choreographed for men to see, and they were simply provocative. I feel sorry for her if I don’t look at her, but if I do, my dick will suffer.
Her whole focus, besides square dancing, was to find a date for me, my only son and relative.
One day she was watching the social news and there was a couple of men performing a wedding in a church. She was skeptical about my sexuality because I had never had an official girlfriend and was surrounded by a large group of male coworkers who were bachelors.
She showed me the paper and said to me in a frenzy, “You must not marry a man.
I hated the fact that she was too involved in my love life and bluffed that maybe I was “married” to them.
Mom could not help but I was scared, crying, pounding on his heart and lungs, scolding himself for giving birth to a strange child, sorry for my family’s ancestors God.
The only thing I could do was coax her to say:
“I’m sorry to talk down to you. I’m not gay, I don’t love boys and girls. I just haven’t met a relationship partner yet. I’m a bloody man, I call prostitutes two or three times a week to satisfy my sexual desires, don’t worry I’m not gay.”
“Really?”
“There is no falsehood.”
“That’s good. How much does it cost to call a prostitute?”
“Even a room, three hundred jewels at a time.”
“Three hundred a time, nine hundred a week, three thousand six hundred a month ——“
“No miscalculation. I’ve got an old flame, who’s old, and whose business has faded, but who serves me well, and I go to her often. She said to give her the three thousand six hundred a month, and she’d come home with me, and I’d do it whenever I wanted to.”
“Never.”
“I thought you said it only had to be a woman.”
“Your Ama I’m a woman too ….”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just need a woman with tits and a cunt. At work, my coworkers talk about nothing else but sex, which makes me want to fuck even a sow.”
“Sow you want to fuck too. Bring me the three thousand six and I’ll be your wife for good.”
“Mom, don’t kid me.”
“No kidding. Don’t mind my age, no problem having sex with you for twenty years. Might be able to drop a doll on you.”
“No way, right!”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t been hitting on me. You’ve often looked at me lustfully and thought I didn’t know.”
“Just being your fan. You dance so attractively that there’s an element of seducing me.””
She wipes away her tears, fixes her hair, squeezes a smile at me, and says:
“Here comes the sarcasm again Auntie.”
“It’s not that. But how did you come up with the damn idea of marrying me?”
“To save you money. Also, I’m no worse than any other woman.”
I flinched and stared at the ground, speechless.
I looked her up and down, like I would look at a girl on a blind date. Never looked at her with that eye, women today, sometimes can’t guess her real age. My old flame was in her fifties and lied about being forty to entertain the guests, and some people believed it. Old mom turned out not to be old, if she said forty, or even thirty-five, and I walked together, it looks just sisterhood.
My mother, who was judging me and waiting for me to give her a piece of her mind, looked a little shy to me, and became younger and more whiny. I have to admit, in addition to the relationship of being my mother, and too nagging, too strict control of me, she hit a large part of her list of conditions for me to choose a spouse. In terms of appearance and figure, Grandma is not bad, there are conditions for remarriage, she is willing to throw herself out, there must be a lot of men who want to pursue her.
“Well? Your mom’s no worse than that old flame of yours!”
“Mom, I haven’t figured it out yet. Did you say you could marry me?”
“Don’t I look good to you?”
“Definitely not that.”
“Don’t you want a regular sex partner?”
“Yes!”
“We can have a trial marriage and only get a license if we’re both satisfied.”
“Licensed for what?”
“Marriage is a life event not to be rushed. Of course you have to get a marriage license.”
The message was so strong that it was hard to know how to respond for a moment.
“Good thing for us! Leave it to me to make the arrangements.”
Who I’m going to marry is never arranged by her. Speaking of which, I’m rushing off to work.
Before I left the house, A-ma reminded me in a gentle tone, saying, “Son, now that you have me, don’t pick wildflowers, and save the three hundred dollars for me for the family.
I’m a little confused. Is it a good idea to turn my mom into a marriage partner, overstepping her boundaries and messing with her family?
Sleeping with my mom, she doesn’t call me her son, she calls me her husband. It’s a fantasy, but it’s unthinkable. I don’t call her “mom” anymore, so what should I call her? My old flame told me to call her “little sister”, so I can’t call my mom “sister”? Would Mom be willing to get naked for me to have sex? Will she let me touch her tits and ass?
And what’s the protocol for a trial marriage?
But back to basically, should I marry my mom?
I asked my coworkers for their opinions, of course leaving out the mother/child relationship and just saying that a relative a generation older than myself was willing to marry me.
Colleague A said it was a good thing. Love has no age or generation limit, and when it comes, it can’t be stopped. This love thing, mother and child love, sister and brother love, teacher and student love, the more incestuous the more exciting.
Colleague B said that there was no need to consider it. We all know that the gender imbalance is at a point where it could go back to the days of co-wives and polygamy. If someone is willing to marry me, who cares if she is my mother, the night is long and I will marry her right away.
“But she is my elder, a very, very dear relative, to whom I have always paid my respects. How can I take her to bed? How can I do it with the ground?”
I asked a stupid question and gave them a scolding around me:
“Are you a normal man? Can’t you cock your dick?” One said.
“I don’t care if she’s your mother or your aunt, if she’s willing to marry you, she’s your woman. If you’re afraid of her, you deserve to get your dick killed and have no place to put it. And will look down on you.” The other one said.
“Alas! The man who has no guts to enter into love is not to be pitied. I will despise you! You jerk off for the rest of your life!” In unison, they approved my life.
These coworkers of mine like to ramble on, but they don’t talk without reason.
I’ve never dared to think of my mom as a sex object, and marrying my own mother is even more of a pipe dream. However, since she proposed that she could marry me, my penis has become erect. The more I scolded my coworkers, the harder it got, and it was almost as if it was bursting out of my pants.
This primal reaction told me one thing: I couldn’t deny the desire to cuddle up to my mom’s naked body and go to sleep.
Overnight, this little spark of desire had spread throughout my body. Every nerve ending in my body jumped at the thought that my dick would be in good hands.
I looked to heaven and prayed that my mom wouldn’t change her mind. On the way home, I thought about every detail of the process of taking my mom to bed.
After work, I didn’t want to discuss my sexual well-being with them and left them to go home on the first bus.
The bus passes by the hotel where I often have a room, I make a phone call, and my old flame immediately responds to the call to take the heat off my dick. And to think she once said that to me:
“Boss, countless men have touched my boobs, until now only you can make me feel something ……”
I struggled with my thoughts and finally didn’t get off the bus to find out what it felt like because I promised my mom I’d save my money.
Brains will turn, what if she’s telling the truth and getting me into bed for free for that feeling?
Of course it’s delusional.
But so what if it was Mother who slept in my bed? Mother Superior stripped naked, just like any other woman, with two fairy peaks on top, a charming hole below, two thighs apart, miserable grass, and fine water flowing. I rubbed my hand on the peaks and roamed around, did the feeling come?
I rewarded myself with a slap. In your dreams, you shameless little white boy.
But was Amma’s proposal to marry me a sudden whim of hers, or did she have something else in mind? I blame myself for being careless and not paying attention to her recent demeanor. What’s gotten into her? She can’t stop checking me out. Is she lonely and in love with me, and has a secret crush on me?
The bus took a wrong turn and turned onto Plaza Avenue in the center of the city, not far from home, two stops away. When I got off the bus, I walked towards the music to see the ladies dancing. My mom was at the front of the line, leading the dancers. But it wasn’t her. Where was she?
Pacing quickly home, his heart was fifteen buckets in the air, planning what would happen when he saw Auntie.
Entering the house, I saw a hot, thin meal and a few plates of cold food on the table.
Mom was wearing a short luminous bodycon dress, strapless, V-neck. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Because the straps of a bra would show. Nor did she wear the clashing leggings, with two white thighs that flared out more than the ball gown. She came at me with a smile on her face.
“Back. We’ll have breakfast together.”
“Didn’t go dancing?”
“You work hard part-time, you should be nicer to you.”
“Mom, you’ve been good to me.”
“That’s a mom being nice to her son. You think I nag too much.”
“It’s all for my sake.”
“You don’t like it, and talk less from now on.”
She brought me more food and added more rice, but I just kept my head down and ate, not daring to look at her.
Wolf down your food, eat your fill, and wipe your mouth.
Mom said, “Tired. Take a hot bath and go to bed.”
Mom actually walked with me to the bathroom and undressed me. I was a little embarrassed.
Mom said, “What are you shy about? Hasn’t Ama seen your body? And we are betrothed for me to serve you.” Happy, but can’t believe it’s true.”
“Are you serious?”
“Unless you think I’m unattractive and hate me.”
“No, you’re pretty.”
“Good looking there?”
“Good look, good body.”
“I’ve known it for a long time. You’re always staring at people dishonestly”
I said in my mind, “Mom, honestly, I wasn’t staring at you. I don’t have the guts to just peek.”
Mom squatted down and removed my panties. I looked down at her neckline, opening up a pair of bare breasts with unfathomable cleavage. My dick, cocked glans, lunged out right in front of Mom as my panties came down to my knees. I scrambled to cover it with both hands. I was blushing and my blood was boiling. Not yet buried, I was already so aroused that I was about to burst.
Mom patted my bare ass and said, “Go on, get cleaned up.”
The few steps into the shower seemed like a hundred meter sprint uphill, heart rate elevated to the limit.
I turned the shower on wide and drenched my head, hoping my mind would cool down. Mom was just outside the shower, separated by an ice effect glass screen.
I think she’s looking at me in the shower. My heart couldn’t take it when I looked out. She was bending over, pulling down her panties. Seo is standing up, fully naked, front and center, outside the glass door, knocking on the door.
I pushed the door open and two rolling balls of flesh, like the little yellow man with those big eyes, met me. She held out her hand for me to help in. We, mother and son, naked, were closed in the small space of the glass case. My dick, already hard and erect since I’d taken Mom’s pants off, formed an H between our two standing bodies. and it inevitably rested against Mom’s triangle.
A chill jolted through my body that had been rolling. For we were about to commit incest, I was scared.
“Mom, do you really want this?” I had nowhere to turn back to her naked body.
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t …… I mean don’t dare think about it.”
“I’m not asking if you dare. Do you want to?”
“I think.”
“Give us three months to try. I won’t blame you if you don’t marry me after three months. Come on, kiss me if you suffer me.”
Mom closed her eyes and sent her beak over.
Hot water, like a downpour from the shower head. I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around Mom’s waist, and kissed. Mom’s slightly parted lips were thinner than they looked, and softer. Her saliva, tangy and sweet. As we kissed, Mom grabbed my dick, which was hard as a golden pestle, and shoved it into her hole, unteased by foreplay, and thrust it in, bumping against the flow. Mom patiently inserted it steadily, let go of her hand, a pair of jade arms around my neck, lifted a leg, wrapped around the back of my waist. I instinctively rose to cup her big ass, so perky and slippery. With her weight supported, she lifted her other leg and wrapped it firmly around me, now in a position of joyful Zen dual practice.
I have heard of the Goddess of Mercy flesh to give alms, now the red powder woman’s face, and the lost prodigal son coitus, coitus great joy when, suddenly appeared in the body of the skeleton, take the red powder skeleton, to enlighten the lost people, do not ask him to sink into the skin and flesh color. I dare not open my eyes to see my mother’s face, for fear of seeing the Goddess of Mercy. I fantasized that she was an old flame, just as I fantasized that she was my mom when I made love to my old flame. I pressed her against the glass screen. The two wet bodies of flesh mated with each other, thrusting shallowly and deeply. There was a muffled murmur in my ears, exhaled from my nose and throat, and electricity quickly coursed through my body, infusing the fulcrum of our embrace, as if letting go of my hand could support her with just the single rod of flesh that connected my flesh to hers.
I have ascended to the realm of supreme bliss, smelling the fragrance of exotic flowers and hearing wonderful immortal music. I opened my eyes and saw a solemn and holy appearance on the face of the Goddess Guanyin, both kind and gentle, with her head tilted back, calling me, the prodigal son, with a delicate voice, and not parting from her.
I’ve realized the meaning of the Daigo’s move.
The “top” is not the top of the brain, but the bottom of the mouth of the pot on the top of a sucking need to ask for it to inject about the juice paddle.
It turns out that mom is the Goddess of Mercy.
(iii) Two for the price of one
I wouldn’t have dared to embrace her old man’s naked body in my arms if it wasn’t for Amma herself leaning against my chest. I had longed for a woman to be entwined with me in bed, and now I was enjoying a warm embrace and an emperor’s treatment, because only an emperor could marry that woman if he wanted to.
A day later, Ama became a different person – my wife. The change was so great that in my heart I still couldn’t believe it
One doesn’t believe that it’s a big joke that Amma would marry her son.
II don’t believe that Auntie volunteered to have sex with me, it was a sperm-induced hallucination.
Three doesn’t believe that Auntie sleeping in my bed is a delusional dream.
My mom! The woman in my arms is, for all intents and purposes, Ama, her old man. Her face, her look, her tone of voice, I’ve recognized since I was a child. I’m straight and true with her.
Mom and I had sex in the shower. She wrapped her body in a big bath towel and blow dried her hair. Then called me out and dried me off with her own washcloth. She knelt down and turned up the folds of her foreskin to get a closer look at it to see if it was dirty and wiped dry. My dick hung its head obediently, letting my mom hold it in her hands and rub it like a ball of clay. Look up and say:
“Ama is already your woman. You have to treat Ama well.”
“Mom, I’ve listened to you since I was a kid, and I’ve never respected you.”
“Mom does know.”
“But why?”
“You’re my heart and soul, Mom will live her life for you and die for you.”
Hear how emotional she is in her words, talking about how serious it is to die. Ask her a question:
“Mom what’s wrong with you?”
“It’s fine. I mean the biggest thing on my mind is making you happy. Are you happy to have your mom as your wife?”
“Though never daring to think of this in any other way, I can describe it as a joyous surprise.”
“My son really has some culture and knows how to use four-letter idioms. Say nice things to mom more often, and love me more in the future! I’m a small woman who needs a very large man to give me lots and lots of love.”
Between mom’s gentle rubbing and whispering, my dick was erect again, paying homage to the great mother before me. Mom stood up slowly, her two breasts bouncing slightly with the rising motion, the tips of her breasts pointing downward and spreading apart in front of her chest. My heart thumped again, my dick hadn’t slipped completely out of my mom’s hand, and my glans was already standing tall and proud.
Mom gathered over while standing across the room, caressing my face, moving my hands under her waist, signaling me to hold her. Then, crossing her toes and tilting her face up.
We kissed.
I’m not going to lie, I’ve never kissed a woman. The women who assisted me, said that for a good price, you could be kissed, touched, and slept with, but all the reactions were only a facade of artifice. I can’t describe kissing my mom so deeply, so wetly. I closed my eyes, mesmerized, and let the wonderful sensation take me flying. I couldn’t help myself, roaming every inch of what used to be forbidden territory. Gently rubbing mom’s breasts, feel first-class, the proportion of fat and muscle is just right, breast size may not be all, lost weight, more solid. In fact, I’ve noticed that in recent months, the size of the bras my mom wears has gone down one size and the cup size has gone up one level. I confess that I am not a peaceful son and often sneakily take my mom’s dirty panties and bras in the laundry basket to inspect them and identify her body odor.
What good deed had I done lately that I could enjoy this luscious pleasure? I greedily cupped Mom’s bare ass in one hand and held her tits in the other, fetishizing the intimacy I’d never had before, honestly fearing that the world would come to pass before the day was out.
The bad thing that clung to Mom’s smooth belly, like that monster that turns into a giant, pounded into her. Wanting to desire again once awakened, it was out of control, and the animal was ready to burrow into that tantalizing little hole of Mom’s to explore it once more.
As if she had heard my little brother’s call, or maybe she had already had that in mind, don’t look away, Auntie caressed my face and whispered in my ear:
“In your bed or mine.”
Of course it’s mine. Another man has slept in Auntie’s bed. Don’t have an evil heart. She’s not Green Mother. That man is the old man I ran away from.
She took my dick in her hand and, not embarrassed by our nakedness, stepped into my bedroom, lifted the covers, and we continued to kiss and caress each other as mother and son. Mom’s deft hand grasped my rambunctious, eyeless bad boy and led him to explore the peach blossom again.
This round, Auntie’s pussy was both moisturized by my cum from the sex I had just had, and I reached the end of it with one thrust.
“Honey, there’s no rush this time, take your time.”
“Ama, understood. Do as you are told.”
In fact, the first lovemaking with mom just now, pushed less than twenty times before launching. Now, you can flirt and make love at the same time, slow and steady, and savor the taste of joint intercourse with mom. My strategy is, due to the hardness and sensitivity of the weakened, more resistant to stimulation, not wildly bombarded, but a protracted engagement, but instead, the woman will be tortured a little more.
The actual battle was another matter. Mom’s legs were flat on the bed, open for me, and after I had engulfed her with all my roots, she closed it with all her might, and I was met by her slit-like fleshy jerkin, with a thousand slender buds of flesh inside it, like the suction cups of an octopus clinging to my dick.
If I do not take the initiative to launch an attack, my penis will be mom a collection of fluctuations in the play, although eat me is my mom, but also to laugh at the generous. I immediately use my kissing work, and mom’s tongue sucked into the mouth, the mom’s breasts like rolling clay ball, rubbing round and flatten, make her nipple buds bloom, still can not control mom waist leg strength. Nine shallow? One deep? Mouth reciting the enunciation, stabilize the position. In order to maintain the strength of the heart, actually withdrew from the scene, thinking of Guan Zi Zai Bodhisattva, “When practicing deep Prajna Paramita, see that the five skandhas are all empty?”
At the very moment when the Goddess of Mercy brushed me with her compassionate face, I gave out.
Thousands of troops called out in time as they were approaching the city:
“Mom, I love you!”
Mother and Child Trial Marriage (IV)
Originally thought I must have heard my mom to me inserted “dead alive”, to my cry for mercy. I only blame myself for not learning the art well, have not yet realized the highest level of sexual love “dead to life”. Little brother by the mother vaginal walls adsorption and wriggling squeeze, I thought I was already full of power, hard, greedy deep into the bottom of the straight into the moment of speed, then should be timely withdrawal, and then try to make a bigger gain. In fact, at that time has seen mom’s face spring, red halo appeared, breathing every time to exhale, all played “I want to ah” the words of the beat of excitement. And then continue to fight a few rounds, again and again under the tide, will be my Fan Li Hua surrendered to my gun. But just as I was about to pull out, alas, I ejaculated!
I did my best to hold on to my upper body, so that the ejaculation could be prolonged for just one more second. When I was done, I shivered, and when my knees went weak, I pressed down on my mom, embracing her and caressing her breasts, trying to use the afterglow of my sex to make up for the orgasm she hadn’t reached yet.
Instead, Mom pushed me away, migrated under my arms and scolded me:
“Look at you deadbeat, you shot half in there and half in my thighs and stained the sheets.”
Said, ran to the bathroom to get a towel. Mom’s light footsteps, bare back, twisting waist and ass, disappeared in a flash. Then, again, heard Mom shouting in the bathroom:
“Trouble! Trouble!”
Gave me such a fright that I jumped up, and in my weakness, like Mom, I couldn’t be bothered to get dressed, with my dick dangling between my rainy legs, and ran off to see what was going on with my bare ass.
Mom points to the shower and the glass screen breaks.
I was the one who did it, and I was so happy with my mom that I forgot about it. Her legs like a tree Temperance coiled under my waist, I hold her buttocks, pressed her on the glass screen, sex organs violently collide with each other, the glass screen thumping and shaking, she is still firmly hung on me. After sex, did not pay attention to the cracks in the glass screen.
The thought of tangling with Mom under a shower of hot water over her head makes me bend over with joy and laughter. Laughing:
“For damaging something in your house, I’m only half responsible.”
“No, you’re the man of the house now, and the responsibility for everything rests with you.”
We looked at the crappy shower and then at the fact that we, mother and son, had been naked together since breakfast. Originally a little embarrassed and embarrassed to look at each other’s naked bodies head on, suddenly it seemed like we were getting used to it, more like a couple and less like mother and son. What a ridiculously grotesque scene, we looked at each other and laughed.
I have a bottom line in my mind, Mom speaks without changing her usual mom’s enunciation, but she probably isn’t lying when she says she wants to marry me.
But I had to ask her about it, to be sure again:
“Did you mean it when you said you could marry me?”
“People have already you looked at them naked, and they’ve been in bed. Will it still be fake?”
Still owes a why, but not pursuing it. Should I force my mom to say she’s always had a crush on me? If I marry mom, I’ll have to give up on finding a younger marriage partner. That’s fine. It’s a long shot to find someone to marry. So I responded to mom and said:
“Mom, I don’t know what to say. Anyway, it’s great! Really great!”
“I remembered something, just now you were in bed and couldn’t stop chanting Goddess of Mercy. For our marriage, we went to get the license only after three months when both parties did not back out. However, what we do under this roof is all under the eye of Goddess of Mercy. Being a husband and wife can’t be child’s play, come, come, let’s quickly should go and give the Bodhisattva a note of incense and bow down.”
We were naked, hand in hand, and walked to the altar. With naked bodies and sincere hearts, we knelt down. On the altar was the family heirloom white porcelain fish basket statue of Goddess of Mercy, who does not cling to the extremes of good and evil, but sees the emptiness of all things. The two of us, who were mother and son yesterday and are husband and wife today, are also empty.
Mom shook off my hand, closed her eyes and bowed to the gods and said:
“The Bodhisattva is here, and my daughter, Qiusha, is willing to marry my son, Danyong, who is beside me. The marriage of a mother and her son is rare in this world, but my believing daughter, Qiusha, is willing to marry, and in the future, we will share our sufferings and want each other, and we will not be separated until we die. —— I ask the Bodhisattva to sympathize with my believing daughter’s plight, and to make us whole. ——“
Speaking of death and not separating a sentence, Mom was so touched that she choked on her throat and could not say any more. On the bend down to worship, the waist is as soft as a willow branch, the movement is elegant and charming. Bend over when the buttocks up, firm and round, a pair of breasts with the sagging, pressed on the thighs. Such a wonderful body in front of me, gave me a show of stripped celestial dance, eye blessing boundless, see my mouth fixed eye.
Noticing that I was staring at her and not concentrating on the ritual, Mom touched me with her elbow. I understood and immediately straightened my body, cleared my throat, and proceeded to recite as Mom had said:
“The man of faith, Ma Dayong, wishes to marry his mother, Qiusha, who is beside him. In the future, sweet and bitter together, respect each other like a guest. Please Goddess Guanyin great mercy, bless us since the head to old age —— not, bless my mother, not, is my wife Qiusha youthful and not old, for my Ma family to add children and grandchildren ——“
As I recited it, I did not bow down in worship, but looked up at the idol on the altar. The Bodhisattva’s eyes, in the shape of phoenix eyes, looked down at us. The corners of her mouth showed a smile and her face was kissable. She carries a basket in one hand and makes what appears to be an OK hand seal with the other. Looking at her from before, she looked like a middle-aged woman; today, she looks like a young woman. The Goddess of Mercy once came down to earth to marry a young man named Ma and gave birth to a son for him, so she was called Malang Goddess of Mercy. Married to the Goddess of Mercy as a wife my that Zong brother, several lifetimes to cultivate the lustful fortune, can and the Goddess of Mercy to enjoy the pleasure of fish and water, the pleasure of the room. Now, I also have my mom marrying me and saying she is willing to bear children for me. Just now when we had sex, she didn’t ask me to wear a condom, and I believe she hadn’t taken any contraceptive pills. I don’t dare to offend Marang Kwun Yum by comparing her bedtime skills to my mom’s. I have nothing to complain about, this is the best arrangement God has given me.
Mom’s elbow gave me another kiss, signaling me to worship with her in unison. After three rounds of worship, Mom said she had had enough, so I helped her up. She wobbled as she stood up, and I embraced her, and she leaned against me. A body of flesh and bones well-proportioned, tender skin in my embrace. I looked at my mom again, her appearance was not old, and she was no less beautiful than the girls I had been matched with. We worshiped the Goddess of Mercy, the ceremony was completed, I have the right to kiss the bride. So, I kissed down. Mom tilted her face when I this kiss, there are actually a few teenage girl’s shyness. I rubbed her breasts, gently slap her bare ass, she does not prohibit.
Suddenly a thought flashed by, could it be that my mom is the Malang Goddess of Mercy coming down to earth again? If the one I was kissing was a goddess, where was my mom’s true self?