We lay stacked together like that, immersed in the afterglow of the intense sex, the room filled only with our heavy, uneven panting.
After a while, I caught my breath a little, turned my head, and kissed Mom's sweaty neck hollow.
"Mom," my voice still hoarse, "was it exciting?"
Mom took a few seconds before she turned her head slightly, revealing one damp, almond-shaped eye with reddened corners, and gave me a weak glare.
That glance held no intimidation; instead, because of the post-climax languor and lingering passion, it looked utterly seductive.
"Exciting what..." her voice was soft, carrying the post-coital huskiness and a hint of coquettish complaint, "I was almost... almost scared to death..."
She was referring to the incident by the window.
I chuckled twice, tightening my arm around her waist.
"Mom, I need to confess something to you."
"Hmm?" she responded lazily.
"Just now... I was lying." I whispered into her ear. "Outside... there was no one. Downstairs was pitch black, couldn't see anything. I tricked you."
Mom's body instantly stiffened.
A few seconds later, she suddenly turned her head, eyes wide as she looked at me, her face still flushed, but her expression had turned to a mix of shame and anger.
"Lin An—!" her voice rose, angry, elbowing me backward, "You! You actually tricked me?! I... I was scared to death! My heart was about to jump out! You... I'll beat you to death!"
Saying that, she really struggled to turn around and hit me.
But my cock was still half-soft, half-hard, soaking in her warm, wet honeyed hole.
As she turned and twisted like that, my thing got pulled sideways inside her tight passage, sending a wave of sore, swollen pain.
"Ouch! No no no! Mom! It hurts!" I quickly cried out, flustered as I held her down, "My cock... my cock is going to break! It'll really break!"
Mom paused, still pouting angrily: "Let it break! Serves you right for tricking me! You scared me to death!"
But even as she said that, her body honestly stopped moving, slowly lying back down, letting my cock settle smoothly back into her warm, tight nest.
Only her breathing was still a bit rapid, clearly still angry.
I breathed a sigh of relief, lay back down, my face against her smooth, sweaty back, my hand soothingly rubbing her waist.
"I was wrong, Mom." I apologized quickly, but there wasn't much sincerity in my tone, instead a hint of smugness, "But... wasn't it... also pretty exciting just now?"
Mom didn't answer immediately.
After a long while, I heard her muffled, almost inaudible voice coming from the pillow:
"...Bastard."
She cursed.
But I felt it—the warm, soft, slippery flesh inside her contracted gently, appeasingly, once more, coiling around my not-yet-fully-softened cock.
Like a silent, indulgent response.
I slept like a log.
When I opened my eyes again, daylight was already streaming brightly through the crack in the not-quite-closed curtains, stinging my eyes.
Fuck.
Squinting, my brain still fuzzy, I reached out to feel for my phone on the nightstand.
My hand found nothing.
Then I remembered… last night… I slept in Mom's room.
I turned my head.
Mom was still curled up in my arms, sleeping soundly.
Her face was pressed against my chest, her long eyelashes lowered, casting a small shadow under her eyes. The corners of her mouth were slightly upturned, as if she was having a pleasant dream.
Her breathing was light and even, warm puffs of air hitting my skin.
The blanket only covered us to our waists.
Her bare shoulders were exposed, her skin as white as porcelain, with a few faint red marks on them—marks I had left last night by pinching and biting.
Further down… the curve of the blanket outlined the shape of her body. Those heavy, full breasts pressed against my arm, soft, warm, rising and falling gently with her breath.
My throat went dry watching her.
Quietly, I lifted my other hand, trying to reach for her phone on the pillow beside her.
My movement was light, but the mattress still shifted slightly.
"Mmm…"
The person in my arms stirred, letting out a kitten-like whimper.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes.
Those almond-shaped eyes, just waking, were still hazy with sleep, unfocused and dazed.
Then, she saw me.
She blinked, as if just realizing.
Last night's wild scenes… probably all flooded into her mind at once.
"Ah…"
She let out a short, startled gasp, her face flushing crimson instantly, even the tips of her ears turning pink.
Instinctively, she tried to shrink back, to escape my gaze, but as soon as she moved, her brows furrowed, and she let out a soft hiss of pain.
"It hurts…"
She mumbled quietly, shooting me a resentful look.
It must have been because I was too rough last night; she was sore all over.
The twinge of guilt that had just surfaced in my heart was immediately suppressed by something else.
Because with that movement of hers, the blanket slipped down even more.
Most of her snow-white chest was exposed, her breasts trembling slightly. The two red peaks at their tips, due to the morning chill, were already hard and erect, standing out starkly against her pale skin.
My gaze stuck there, unable to look away.
My body reacted faster than my brain.
Almost simultaneously, I felt that thing between my legs, as if receiving some command, "spring" to attention, hard and rigid, pressing against her soft lower abdomen.
Burning hot.
Mom obviously felt it too.
Her body stiffened. She glanced down at the obvious bulge between us, her face turning even redder. She raised her hand and gave my shoulder a not-too-light, not-too-heavy punch.
"You… you're at it again?!"
Her voice was hoarse from sleep, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. "No… last night… how many times was it last night… Mom… Mom is still swollen down there… my back aches… my legs are weak… no, absolutely not…"
As she said "no," her hands pushed against my chest, trying to push me away a bit.
But her strength was weak, without any real force, almost like a coy refusal.
I grabbed her hand, brought it to my lips, and kissed her fingertips.
"Mom…"
My voice was terribly hoarse, carrying the deep, desire-laden tone specific to mornings. "Just once… gently…"
"Not even once!"
Mom said decisively, pulling her hand back and glaring at me. "Look what time it is already!"
She finally remembered the important matter and stretched her arm to reach for her phone.
This movement completely exposed her upper body to my view. Those heavy, full breasts swayed, tracing a seductive arc.
I stared, transfixed.
Mom found her phone, pressed the screen to light it up, glanced at it, and gasped in surprise: "Oh my god! It's 11:20!"
She panicked instantly, forgetting her shyness, struggling to sit up: "Get up, get up! It's already noon! The flower shop… the flower shop hasn't opened today!"
"Mom, what's the rush."
I lay lazily, my hand mischievously wrapping around her waist, not letting her get up. "Since it's already this late, what's the harm in opening a little later?"
"No! I ordered fresh lilies yesterday; I need to pick them up at 1 PM!"
Mom was genuinely anxious, trying to pry my hand off. "Lin An, let go! Stop fooling around!"
Seeing her so flustered her eyes were getting a bit red, I reluctantly let go.
Mom quickly rolled out of bed. As soon as her feet touched the floor, her legs gave way. "Ouch!" she cried, almost falling.
I quickly sat up and steadied her. "You okay, Mom?"
She leaned against me for a few seconds, her face reddening again, and muttered softly, "It's all your fault… last night… you had to do it like that… my legs… my legs have no strength…"
Scolding aside, she still propped herself up, staggering towards the bathroom.
I watched her retreating figure.
Her bare back had graceful lines, her waist slender, her buttocks round and pert. The inside of her thighs… seemed to have some dried, sticky traces of white fluid that hadn't been cleaned off properly—what had leaked out after I came inside her last night.
Fuck.
I was hard again.
But I also knew now wasn't the time.
I sighed, got out of bed too, and followed her into the bathroom.
Mom was brushing her teeth, mouth full of foam. Seeing me enter through the mirror, she mumbled, "You… you go out first… I'm going to take a shower…"
"Let's shower together, save water."
I grinned cheekily, moving closer and hugging her from behind, my hand habitually wandering upwards.
Mom twisted her body to avoid me, protesting with "mmph" sounds, elbowing me.
After fooling around for a bit, she finally finished brushing, rinsed her mouth, turned around, and with a red face, pushed me out. "Out, out! I'll shower myself! If you keep messing around… if you keep messing around, there's no food for you today!"
The threat wasn't very forceful.
But seeing she was genuinely anxious, I had to raise my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm going out. Hurry up, Mom."
Leaving the bathroom, I went back to my room and casually pulled on a pair of pants and a T-shirt.
When I came out again, Mom still wasn't done showering.
The sound of water was rushing.
I sat on the living room sofa, my mind involuntarily replaying the details of last night.
The thrill by the window, the shame of crawling, and her wanton cries at the end…
Thinking about it, my pants tented again.
Damn it.
I rubbed my temples, forcing myself to shift my attention. I picked up the remote and turned on the TV.
I found some variety show at random, noisy and lively, but I couldn't focus on it at all.
After about twenty minutes, the bathroom door finally opened.
Mom walked out.
She had changed into a beige knit maxi dress for lounging. Her hair was damp, draped over her shoulders, and her face still carried a blush from the steam.
Seeing me, her eyes dodged mine, and she said softly, "I… I'll go change, then go get the flowers. Are you… are you hungry? There's bread in the fridge, have some to tide you over."
"No rush, Mom." I stood up and walked over to her. "I'll go to the flower shop with you."
"No need, you stay home…"
"I'll go with you."
I interrupted her, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Mom looked at me for a few seconds and gave in. "…Then go change, wear something warm, it's a bit chilly today."
After saying that, she quickly walked back to her room and closed the door.
I smiled, went back to my room, and changed into a slightly thicker jacket.
By the time we both were ready and dawdled our way out the door, it was almost noon.
The elevator was empty except for the two of us.
Mom stood in the corner, head bowed, staring at the tips of her shoes, not speaking.
I moved closer to her.
Her body stiffened slightly, but she didn't move away.
"Mom."
I called her in a low voice.
"Hmm?"
She still didn't look up.
"Last night…"
I deliberately paused. "Was it thrilling?"
Mom's head snapped up, her eyes wide as she stared at me, her face instantly flushing crimson. She raised her hand to hit me. "You… shut up! Don't say it!"
Laughing, I caught her hand. "Okay, okay, I won't say. Then… Mom, what did you think… about by the window… how did it feel?"
She pulled her hand back, turned her head away from me, her voice as small as a mosquito's. "It… it wasn't anything… scared me to death…"
"But…"
I leaned close to her ear, whispering, "Mom, later on… you were crying out so loudly, and you were so wet…"
"Lin An!" Mom stamped her foot in shame and anger, reaching to cover my mouth. "If you keep talking nonsense! I… I'll get angry!"
Seeing her eyes were genuinely getting a bit red, I toned it down, raising my hands. "Alright, alright, I won't say anymore."
The elevator arrived.
As soon as the doors opened, Mom hurried out as if escaping.
I followed behind, watching her graceful figure, that thought surfacing in my mind again.
Trying it outside…
Right at the doorway…
The thought grew like wildfire.
But it wasn't the time to bring it up yet.
Take it slow.
At the flower shop, Mom was busy changing water for the flowers, trimming them, calling customers who had placed orders yesterday to apologize and explain.
I just sat on the small sofa in the back, pretending to read a book, but my eyes kept following her.
When she bent over, the hem of her dress tightened, outlining the shape of her buttocks.
When she raised her arm, her sleeve slipped down, revealing a section of pale wrist.
When she spoke to customers, her voice was gentle and smiling, completely different from the way she cried and begged beneath me last night.
This contrast made the fire in my heart burn again.
Finally, by almost one o'clock, the stream of customers had slowed a bit.
Mom walked over, rubbing her waist wearily. "Hungry? Order takeout, or go out to eat?"
"Yeah." I put down the book. "Let's order takeout, Mom. What do you want?"
"Anything, you choose."
She sat down on the small chair beside me, took out her phone and looked at it, her brows slightly furrowed as if troubled by something.
I ordered from our usual Sichuan place and placed the order.
While waiting for the food, the shop was quiet.
Just the two of us.
Looking at the profile of Mom's face, I couldn't help but speak again. "Mom."
"Hmm?"
She looked up.
"I was thinking…" I chose my words carefully. "Last night by the window… it was actually pretty safe, right? It's so high up, the curtains are thick, no one could see anything."
Mom's fingers unconsciously picked at the edge of her phone. She didn't speak.
I continued, "And… didn't you say it felt… different, Mom? More thrilling…"
"I did not!"
Mom immediately denied it, her face reddening again. "I… I was just scared by you!"
I smiled, not exposing her.
A while later, the food arrived.
We ate at the small table in the back.
During the meal, I brought it up a few more times, my tone casual, like making conversation.
"Mom, what do you think… if it were at the doorway… would it be even more thrilling?"
Mom's hand, holding her chopsticks, paused. The piece of meat on them fell back into the takeout box.
She looked up at me, her expression complicated, and shook her head. "No. The doorway… someone might see."
I pressed on, "It's just our own home. The door's open; if someone comes, we just run back inside."
Mom still shook her head, very firmly. "No. The doorway… just no."
Seeing her firm stance, I didn't press further and changed the subject. "Then… tonight, by the window again?"
Mom lowered her head, eating her rice. After several seconds, she let out a very, very soft "Mmm."
So quiet it was almost inaudible.
But I heard it.
The slight disappointment in my heart was instantly replaced by satisfaction.
Fine.
By the window it is.
Take it slow.
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