Mom was wrapped in a bath towel, her naked body barely concealed. With one hand clutching the towel tightly at her chest, she reached for her phone on the sofa. As she bent over, her damp, curly hair cascaded down, covering half her face. Her full, rounded breasts pressed together, forming a deep, plump cleavage. Beneath her milky, delicate skin, a rosy flush was visible, and the rising steam carried the scent of gardenia.
Even though I had just relieved some tension with the little enchantress earlier, the sight before me was like dry wood meeting a raging fire. I felt my whole body grow hot, my lower regions swelling, and desire quickly taking over my mind.
Mom picked up her phone, glanced at the caller ID, and scolded, "It's your dad." As she answered, she shot me a look. Seeing me staring blankly, she seemed to realize her attire was inappropriate and turned to head back to the bedroom.
I stood there dazed for a moment before turning back to my game in a daze. Before the little theater in my mind could even begin its performance, the bedroom door suddenly swung open. Mom rushed out and said urgently, "Your dad got drunk at the restaurant and got into a fight. He was beaten up and taken to the hospital. You need to come with me later."
"My dad got into a fight?" I frowned slightly, finding it hard to believe.
"Yes, hurry up and change your clothes," Mom urged before turning back to her room to get dressed. However, she was still wearing her bathroom slippers, which were a bit wet. In her panic, she slipped with a startled "Ah!" and fell flat on her back, her slippers flying off into the distance.
I hurried over to help her up but unexpectedly caught a glimpse of something astonishing. The hem of the bath towel wrapped around Mom had been pushed up slightly due to the fall, bunching up around her thighs and revealing a gap. Through it, I could faintly see half of her soft, snow-white mound.
Just that one glance nearly made my nose bleed. Mom's face flushed crimson as she hurriedly covered her thighs with the towel and shouted, "Close your eyes!"
I quickly obeyed, shutting my eyes tightly, but the image was already deeply etched in my mind.
Though it was only a fleeting glimpse, like a half-hidden lute, what I saw was unmistakably real. Mom's mound was prominently raised, slightly darker than the snowy skin of her thighs. In the middle was a tightly closed, delicate slit, recessed inward, white and tender, as clean and smooth as a freshly steamed bun.
Most strikingly, there didn't seem to be any pubic hair—as if she were a "white tiger."
After I helped Mom up, she urged me to change my clothes so we could head to the hospital together.
Dad was lying on the hospital bed, dead drunk and covered in blood. The police from the local station had already arrived. The man who had beaten him was a burly, middle-aged fellow. Mom stormed over and slapped him across the face, leaving him stunned. If the police hadn't intervened, she would have kicked him too.
For the rest of the night, Mom roared at the middle-aged man, arguing fiercely. The sheer fury she displayed was something I had rarely seen before.
I suddenly realized that the usually fierce and domineering "tigress" who always kept my dad on a tight leash actually loved him deeply.
For some reason, I felt a faint sense of loss in my heart.
Of course, seeing my dad beaten up, I was both heartbroken and angry. I stayed by my mom's side, arguing with the perpetrator for half the night.
But to be honest, although my dad looked quite frightening, his injuries weren't actually severe—just a broken nose, with blood smeared all over his face.
The other party requested a settlement, but my mom firmly refused, insisting on taking legal action. The police officers at the scene kept trying to mediate, and in the end, the matter was resolved with compensation.
After this incident, my parents' relationship improved significantly. Naturally, I was happy about it, but whenever I closed my eyes, I would recall the scene of my mom falling that night. One question kept haunting me: was my mom really a "white tiger"?
The more I thought about it, the more agitated I became, and the more agitated I felt, the more I wanted to know the answer.
On the other hand, I couldn't stop reminiscing about the thrilling and exhilarating sensations the little enchantress had brought me. With these two thoughts clashing in my mind, how could I possibly focus on studying? My head was filled with nothing but lustful thoughts, and my entire body felt unusually restless, as if a hundred claws were scratching at my heart.
After holding out for three days, I finally couldn't bear it any longer. Hesitantly, I called the little enchantress.
She gave me an address and told me to come after school. I hesitated for a long time, but in the end, I couldn't resist my own desires and went.
In front of an old residential building, I met the little enchantress, An Nuo. She was wearing a loose sports hoodie and cropped pants, with pink sneakers and white cotton socks on her feet. Her hands were tucked into her pockets, and she had a backpack slung over her shoulder.
For some reason, every time I saw her now, my entire body would grow hot with desire.
"Did you just get out of school too?" I asked, trying to make conversation.
"Yeah."
"I thought you didn't go to school," I said with a slightly teasing smile.
She didn't respond, turning instead to lead me up to the second floor and into the apartment on the left.
She walked straight into the living room, took off her backpack, and tossed it onto the sofa. I stood at the doorway, looking around. The apartment was somewhat old and, although spotlessly clean, felt lifeless, as if it was usually empty and uninhabited.
"Is this your home?" I asked curiously.
"This is my grandma's place. After my grandpa passed away, I moved in with my grandma at my uncle's house," An Nuo explained as she walked into the kitchen, filled a kettle with water, and placed it on the electric stove to boil.
I felt something was off but couldn't quite put my finger on it. When she came back, I continued the conversation: "You live with your grandma? What about your parents? Are they working away from home?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she walked up to me and extended her fair, delicate hand. I was taken aback. "What's this for?"
"The money?"
It took me a moment to understand. I quickly said, "Don't worry, I'm not the type to skip out on debts, especially this kind." To raise the funds, I had sold a lot of my treasured stamp collection, which was truly heartbreaking.
But this little enchantress was like a drug—once you tried it, you became addicted, and quitting was impossible.
After settling the debt, I couldn't wait to ask, "What are we playing this time?" I glanced around the room. "Did you bring me here specifically to go straight to bed?"
"I have homework to do. No time."
"Huh?" I was a bit annoyed. "Then why did you call me here? Are you messing with me?"
"Come with me." The little witch picked up her schoolbag and entered a room. I had no idea what trick she was up to this time, so I cautiously followed her.
This room must have been her old bedroom, with a bed, a desk, and a Detective Conan poster on the wall. The little witch walked over to the desk and said to me, "Come help me out."
I frowned, genuinely confused, thinking to myself, is this how compensated dating usually goes?
But I still helped her move the desk next to the bed.
Watching her place her schoolbag on the desk, sit down by the bed, and pull out her books to start doing homework, I couldn't hold back any longer: "What exactly are you trying to do?"
"Doing homework," she said, looking up at me with an expression that suggested it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Huh? You called me over just to help you move a desk and do homework?"
The little witch kept her head down as she wrote, saying, "Take off your pants and lie under the desk."
I scratched my head. "What for?"
"Don't ask."
I stared at her, hesitating for a long time, but eventually took off my pants. Then I slid the lower half of my body under the desk, leaving my upper half exposed.
Honestly, it felt really strange. I had no idea what I was even doing.
"Alright, what exactly are you trying to do? Ah~ Oh~!"
Halfway through my sentence, the little witch suddenly placed her cute little foot, clad in a white cotton sock, onto my cock, gently rubbing it. The sudden tingling sensation made me throw my head back and let out a long moan.
I have to admit, she really knows how to mix things up. Compared to handjobs and blowjobs, a teenage girl's footjob through pure white cotton socks is a whole different experience.
After a gentle round of stepping and rubbing, my once-soft cock gradually hardened, standing tall like a pillar reaching for the sky.
The little witch acted as if nothing had happened, continuing to write her homework with her head down. Under the desk, however, she pressed her right foot against the base of my cock, slowly stepping down until it was almost pressed against my stomach.
Like she was stepping on a sewing machine pedal, she pressed down on my erect cock, rising and falling rhythmically. She then spread her toes, pinching the coronal ridge of the glans between her thumb and index finger, stroking it gently as if giving a handjob.
I felt a slight tightness in my lower abdomen. Through the white cotton sock, I could feel the warmth of the girl's sole. Whether it was physical or psychological, I couldn't say, but it was incredibly pleasurable and intensely satisfying.
"Oh~!" I couldn't help but moan and asked, "Where did you learn all these tricks? Ah~! Feels so good."
No answer came, only the sound of pages turning as her left foot joined in.
I lay there on the floor, enjoying the footjob through the cotton socks. After the initial excitement faded, for some reason, I began to feel a sense of leisurely, relaxed pleasure.
After a while of rubbing and stepping, the little white-socked foot suddenly pulled back, then positioned itself on either side, forming a tight little "hole" with the arches of her feet. The soles of her feet clamped around my cock, gently stroking it up and down.
The pleasure sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't help but reach out and grab her little cotton-socked foot. Even through the sock, it felt soft, bouncy, and adorable. As it moved up and down, I rubbed and played with her little foot.
The little witch didn't stop me, letting me hold and fondle her foot as I pleased.
After playing for a while, a sudden idea struck me. I grabbed the cuff of her cotton sock, wanting to take it off.
The little enchantress was quite considerate. She lifted her foot slightly, allowing me to slip off her cotton sock. Then, her fair and tender foot once again rested on my cock—cool, smooth, and offering a completely different sensation.
It must be said that the girl's feet were exceptionally well-maintained—smooth as jade, fair with a hint of pink, without a trace of hard calluses. Though she wore no nail polish, her toenails were neatly trimmed, clean and tidy, like exquisite jade artifacts—soothing to the senses and pleasing to the eye.
The skin on the sole of her foot was incredibly delicate, curving inward with subtle creases. As it gripped and stroked my shaft up and down, it produced an unexpectedly intense pleasure.
The sticky fluid seeping from the tip of my cock smeared onto her small foot, acting as a lubricant. Like thrusting into a wet pussy, the sensation grew increasingly smooth.
I had once coaxed Lu Yiyi into giving me a footjob, but compared to this moment, it was like night and day.
The girl's smooth feet toyed with my shaft for over ten minutes, and pleasure gradually built up within me. I knew I couldn't hold on much longer. Gripping her fair, tender feet tightly with both hands, I thrust my hips upward, frantically pounding against the sole of her foot as if it were a tight little hole.
The pace grew faster and faster until, finally, I clenched the top of her foot and pulled it down forcefully. The tip of my cock pressed firmly against the tender sole of her foot as my shaft pulsed rhythmically, releasing thick, pungent streams of cum.
I lifted my upper body, straining my neck and clenching my teeth until the waves of pleasure gradually subsided before lying back down.
The little enchantress, however, acted as if nothing had happened, calmly continuing her homework. Her foot still rested on my half-soft cock, seemingly unbothered by the sticky semen coating her sole.
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