Afterwards, Yang Haoran privately comforted Yaoyao for a while before refocusing his energy on his self-study session, which lasted until after 2 a.m., the lamp in his room still burning brightly.
It was only when his mother came to urge him to sleep that Yang Haoran realized how late it had gotten.
“Mom, you’re pregnant, you should get to bed early.”
Yang Haoran saw his mother out of his room, offering a concerned reminder.
“I know, I just woke up in the middle of the night and came to check on you.”
Liu Ruoxi felt warmed by her son’s concern.
“Why did you wake up?”
Yang Haoran was somewhat puzzled, but then he recalled information he had come across online about pregnancy potentially causing poorer sleep quality, and it suddenly made sense.
“Don’t worry about that, just get some rest.”
Liu Ruoxi did not offer any further explanation.
After his mother left, Yang Haoran felt a sense of melancholy. He longed to share a bed with his mother, to sleep beside her, so he could be immediately aware of any changes she might experience. Unfortunately, with his father still present, they could only remain as mother and son within the household.
Pulling the covers over himself and lying in bed, these thoughts swirled in his mind as he drifted drowsily into sleep.
In his dream, his mother had already divorced his father. It seemed to be early morning; his mother had finished preparing breakfast and returned to the dining table where he sat. Instead of taking a seat herself, she exchanged a glance with Yaoyao, who was sitting beside him. Then, both mother and daughter slowly knelt down between his legs. After a familiar wave of pleasure washed over him,
his mother instructed Yaoyao to serve him a bowl of plain congee. Then, she slowly scraped the thick, viscous fluid from her palm into the bowl containing the congee, stirred it in, served a bowl for Yaoyao, and then another for herself.
Seeming to notice him watching her, his mother looked at him questioningly, silently… he could only see her red lips moving, the shape of them seeming to ask, “What’s wrong?”
Just as Yang Haoran tried to speak, he found he also couldn’t make a sound. Feeling strange, he seemed to realize something…
Yang Haoran in his bedroom woke up, stretched his body, and felt a tinge of regret. It seemed that dreams often ended the moment you became aware you were dreaming.
The images from the dream appeared fragmented, gradually growing blurry. Yang Haoran muttered to himself, “Perhaps daydreams lead to night dreams.”
The life in his dream was exactly what he yearned forβhis mother’s and Yaoyao’s food needed to be mixed with his semen.
However, Yang Haoran felt the dream wasn’t perfect enough. It would better satisfy his desire for conquest if he could make his mother and Yaoyao get on their hands and knees, lapping up the congee mixed with his semen from the floor.
But given his mother’s temperament, indulging him occasionally was possible, but if it were to become a daily occurrence, Yang Haoran estimated he would inevitably suffer a severe beating from her.
After washing his face and brushing his teeth, Yang Haoran went downstairs. It was Sunday, his father’s day off; he was drinking tea in the living room. Yang Haoran greeted him and was pulled into having a cup of morning tea to clear his head.
After his mother finished preparing breakfast, the family sat around the dining table, conversing cheerfully.
Yang Haoran had instructed Yaoyao to meet him downstairs at the apartment Xiao Shaowan had rented. After finishing breakfast, his mother returned to her room, his father went to Auntie Zhuang’s place, and Yaoyao headed out first. Yang Haorman waited in his room for a while to avoid both siblings leaving together, which might make his mother suspicious.
These days, Yang Haoran had to be cautious with his words and actions. Knowing that opportunities like Sundays, when his father and Yaoyao were absent, were rare, he felt it would be out of character for him not to seek a secret tryst with his mother.
So, Yang Haoran shamelessly made his way to his mother’s master bedroom. After teasing and flirting with her playfully, he had her lift her clothes up. With her eyes closed, she presented her trembling, snow-white, enormous breasts for him to slap several times. The enticing, majestic peaks swayed violently, their fleshy waves undulating in mesmerizing curves.
Afterwards, whether Yang Haoran was fondling her breasts or torturing her delicate pink nipples, his mother kept her eyes closed. It was only when he genuinely hurt her that she would tell him to be gentler.
Now, in private, his mother was willing to satisfy his perverted, beastly desires, as long as he didn’t go too far. So, Yang Haoran knew when to stop.
The mother and son played their game of master and sex slave in the master bedroom. Liu Ruoxi wore a collar connected to a silver dog leash, which Yang Haoran, grinning broadly, held as she knelt at his feet.
Even after the training session at the estate, his mother still seemed uncomfortable, barely speaking, perhaps out of shame.
Yang Haoran wanted to lead his mother out of the master bedroom on the leash, to walk around various parts of the house and let her see familiar things from the perspective of a bitch in heat. However, his mother refused.
Unwilling to give up, Yang Haoran brought out a whip to threaten her. This, instead, provoked her rebellious side. She let out a cold laugh, thrust out her plump, perfectly rounded peach-like buttocks, and told him to hit her as much as he wanted; she absolutely would not step outside the room.
Yang Haoran truly had no way to handle his mother. While she would cooperate with him, if she really didn’t want to do something, nothing he said would change her mind.
Helpless, Yang Haoran used the leather whip to strike his mother’s buttocks a few times as punishment, though he barely used any force. Her body trembled with each strike, but she did not resist.
Sensing that her son wasn’t using much force, Liu Ruoxi’s mood softened slightly. Yang Haoran heard her explanation: she was worried his father might unexpectedly return; that was the core reason for her refusal.
Yang Haoran could only lead his mother on the leash for a few laps around the master bedroom. Fortunately, the room was quite spacious, which somewhat satisfied his perverted desire to parade his mother around like a bitch in heat.
Afterwards, Yang Haoran crouched behind his mother’s full, jade-like buttocks to admire her pussy. Her cunt was the most beautifully shaped he had ever seen, like a work of artβplump, full, and fleshy, resembling a snow frog. It was undoubtedly a perfect sexual organ.
Beyond arousing anδΎ΅η₯η (invasive) sexual desire, it also provided a sense of aesthetic pleasure.
This treasure belonged to Yang Haoran. He spread her jade-like pussy open with his fingers, playing with it while pretending not to understand and asking his mother questions. Liu Ruoxi, enduring her shame, explained things to him.
However, her straightforward answers were hardly satisfying to Yang Haoran. He guided her to say some lewd and obscene words. At first, his mother was unwilling to comply, but after having her buttocks slapped a few times, she finally, in a trembling voice, uttered the responses he wanted to hear.
Next, her small, crimson rosebud caught his attention and made his finger itch with desire. He touched it with his finger, harboring ill intentions. His mother covered it with her hand, turned her head to glare at him, her stunning face completely flushed peach-red.
Yang Haoran was just intentionally trying to scare his mother; he wasn’t actually planning to deflower her anal chrysanthemum yet. He intended to save that for a night of special significance.
That night would be his birthday, and it would be the birthday gift his mother should give him!
Afterwards, because his mother was pregnant, Yang Haoran worried about affecting the baby and did not fuck her. Instead, he had her use her mouth to service him until he ejaculated.
After that, he was kicked out by his mother. Even though this lewd play with his mother had only lasted a little over half an hour, Yang Haoran felt invigorated and brimming withεΎζ (smug satisfaction).
It was a pity that his mother was unwilling to play along with the master and sex slave game between mother and son for too long. Yang Haoran still had not had his fill.
Having tormented his mother for over half an hour, Yang Haoran knew that if he left now, she wouldn’t be suspicious. Through the door, he told her he was going to Wei Ming’s house.
He had already confessed to his mother that He Muchen, the mother of his classmate Wei Ming, was his woman, so this excuse seemed perfectly reasonable.
However, he had underestimated a woman’s psychology. His mother’s reaction was stronger than he had anticipated: she told him to get lost!
It wasn’t until he had left the residential complex that Yang Haoran figured it out. Of course, she was angryβhe had just finished playing with her and was immediately going to find another woman. It was only natural for his mother to be furious.