Meanwhile, in Zhou Shiwen’s room on the first floor.
Zhou Shiwen was not studying as he had claimed, nor was he in the mood to watch videos. With his hands clasped behind his head, he lay on the bed, staring blankly at the pure white ceiling.
He had been in this state for over half an hour, his mind in turmoil as his mother’s words echoed incessantly in his thoughts.
The idea of his mother sharing a bed with that Mu Penghai, whom he had only met once, filled him with anxiety and discomfort. Even though his mother had said it was just sleeping, that nothing would happen between them, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing and his chest from tightening.
After all, he was just a high school freshman. Not yet independent from his parents, and coming from a single-parent family, he felt an even deeper, more intense attachment to his mother—though of course, he would never say such things out loud.
His mother wanted to find a partner, and that partner was a high school boy his own age. “As heaven dictates the weather, so a mother decides her remarriage.” He still had his mother’s companionship, but what about her? She had been alone all this time. He understood her hardships, which was why words of opposition stuck in his throat, impossible to voice.
There was no genuine magnanimity or open-mindedness here—it was simply that he didn’t want to disappoint his mother.
Yet, faced with the prospect of his mother no longer belonging solely to him, he found it hard to trust that boy, Mu Haipeng. He feared his mother might be entrusting herself to the wrong person. intertwined with worry, reluctance, and panic, these emotions welled up naturally.
If his mother had to be with someone, he would much rather it be Haoran than the unfamiliar Mu Haipeng. At least with Haoran, he knew his background—their families had been close for generations, and they had grown up together. There would be no fear of his mother drifting away from him because of it.
Or perhaps, his latent cuckolding tendencies were subtly at play. Compared to some stranger defiling his beautiful, enchanting mother, he would prefer it to be his best friend Yang Haoran ruthlessly fucking his gorgeous mom. Between the two, the idea of his childhood friend Yang Haoran fucking his mother was more stimulating, more visceral. Maybe once he got used to it, he could even ask Haoran what it felt like to fuck his mother.
In the cuckolding stories and videos he had consumed, the protagonists he imagined were always Haoran and his mother. If his mother were to be with Haoran, given their close friendship, he might eventually be able to watch firsthand as his best friend Yang Haoran vigorously fucked his mother—just like in those videos. It would be like a fantasy come to life, incredibly thrilling. The idea of Haoran fucking his mother right in front of him would be like a form of “mother-front violation,” and he would undoubtedly find it intensely exciting. Such an absurd scenario might even play out in reality.
But if it were Mu Haipeng, none of this would be possible…
Thus, his heart was tangled in knots, filled with indescribable emotions, as if everything was heading in the worst possible direction.
Should he inform Haoran about his mother sleeping with that Mu Haipeng and ask him to stop it? Should he lay bare his heart and confess his true feelings? Zhou Shiwen pondered, this thought surfacing in his mind.
Once this idea took root, his heart stirred with restless anticipation. If Haoran could prevent this, then everything could still be salvaged.
His perverted psychological desires might also see their fantasy become reality. As for whether to speak up—if he could stop this now, he could gradually reveal his feelings later based on the situation, avoiding the shame, embarrassment, and utter humiliation of his best friend discovering his twisted mindset all at once.
Besides, his mother seemed quite fond of Haoran. With his support, she might ditch Mu Haipeng and let Haoran take his place. Haoran would get what he wanted, and in the future, out of gratitude, he might even let him watch how he fucks his mother.
If his mother could be interested in someone his age, why couldn’t that person be his best friend Haoran?
If, from the very beginning, his mother had told him that the person she was seeing was someone his age, and specifically his best friend Yang Haoran, he would have absolutely refused. But now, given the circumstances, Mu Haipeng was the worse option. Between the two, he naturally preferred Yang Haoran.
At the very least, offering his own mother to his best friend to fuck was a testament to their friendship, worthy of their years of camaraderie. In the future, if he just wanted to watch, how could Haoran possibly refuse?
With this thought, Zhou Shiwen felt a surge of excitement. He picked up his phone, opened WeChat, found the contact labeled “Haoran,” and initiated a voice call.
…
Meanwhile, Yang Haoran, gripping his freshly revived, thick cock, was about to plunge it into Auntie Shen’s eager pussy.
Shen Qing lay on the soft bed, her voluptuous legs sheathed in black stockings spread into an M-shape. The smooth stockings were already soaked, glistening with lewd moisture. Completely naked except for the stockings, she struck this wanton pose as if inviting him to take her. Her face flushed, she gazed at Yang Haoran with tender, seductive eyes.
Yang Haoran aimed at her damp, tender fleshly entrance and thrust forward. With a wet sound, the hole, initially the size of a finger, was abruptly stretched wide. Its flexible, tight embrace allowed it to sheath his thick, long cock as he entered. The pink pussy lips quivered and wrapped around him, as if rejoicing in its master’s intrusion.
Shen Qing let out a soft moan, her cheeks flushed crimson. She stared at the large member buried deep inside her, her watery eyes filled with seductive charm. This was the key to her happiness for the rest of her life—her little master.
Just as the two were about to lose themselves in carnal pleasure once more, an untimely ringtone broke the mood.
Annoyed, Yang Haoran picked up the vibrating phone, intending to hang up. But when he saw the caller ID—Shiwen—he was startled.
“Who is it?” Shen Qing asked, noticing Yang Haoran’s expression.
She still held her legs high in the M-shape, maintaining the lewd posture of being penetrated, unable to move easily or see the phone screen.
“Shh… don’t speak. It’s Shiwen,” Yang Haoran whispered to Auntie Shen.
He couldn’t figure out why Shiwen would call at this moment. Worried, he answered the call.
Could he have been discovered?
Shen Qing’s previously relaxed expression instantly tightened. She watched Yang Haoran nervously.
In that moment, the two were like adulterous lovers caught in the act, not daring to make a sound. The room fell into complete silence.
“Hey, is this Haoran?”
A voice both of them knew all too well echoed through the room, shattering the quiet.
“Oh… it’s me, Shiwen. Why are you calling so late?” Yang Haoran replied, feigning nonchalance.
But his heart was pounding with anxiety, terrified that Shiwen might say, “I know you’re in my house.”
He was, after all, currently fucking the guy’s mother. If this were discovered, not even a lifelong friendship forged through life-and-death situations would survive the fallout.
“Yeah, I have something urgent to talk to you about. Are you free right now? Is anyone with you?”
Yang Haoran instinctively glanced down at Auntie Shen, flushed beneath him. His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest. Shen Qing placed a slender finger against her red lips, signaling “shh,” and motioned for him to say no one was around.