After that day, I was like a different person, damn it.
Up at six on the dot every morning, memorizing vocabulary until my ears felt calloused.
When my eyelids fought during class, I'd pinch my thigh, filling notebooks with dense, meticulous notes.
Back home at night, I'd dive headfirst into a sea of practice problems, grinding through test papers until the pen tip felt hot.
My mom was ruthless too.
Her nourishing soups never skipped a day, the taste getting weirder and weirder, but whenever she brought one over, I'd tilt my head back and gulp it down.
At night, her bedroom door was locked tight. I knocked once, but there wasn't a sound from inside.
Only in the morning when she checked my homework, standing close, could I catch a faint whiff of her delicate fragrance and let my mind wander for a few seconds.
Fuck, it was tough.
But I was holding onto a stubborn determination.
The day the monthly exam results came out, I stared at the bright red "2" on the ranking list for several seconds, stunned.
Second in the class.
Liu Hao leaned over, eyes wide. "Holy shit, Lin An, what medicine are you on? Weren't we supposed to slack off together?"
I tugged at the corner of my mouth, ignored him, folded the report card, and stuffed it into my backpack. My hand trembled slightly as I zipped it up.
The moment the dismissal bell rang, I was the first one out.
When I reached the door of "Sunny Rain Florist," my lungs felt like they were about to explode. The glass door reflected my flushed face and the stupid grin stretching to my ears.
Pushing the door open, the wind chimes jingled chaotically.
Mom was trimming the leaves of a bouquet of lilies. Hearing the noise, she looked up.
Seeing me panting heavily, eyes shining, the scissors in her hand paused.
"Mom!" My voice was hoarse from running. Leaning on my knees, I gasped for air. "Look... look at this!"
I pulled out the crumpled, folded report card from my backpack and handed it to her like a treasure.
Mom put down the scissors, wiped her hands on her apron, and took it. She lowered her gaze to look, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow under her eyes.
A few seconds later, she looked up. Her face showed no particular expression. She just turned, took a bottle of mineral water from the small fridge nearby, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to me.
"Why run so fast? Take your time." Her voice was still soft, but I couldn't tell if she was happy or not.
I took the water and gulped down more than half the bottle. The cold liquid slid down my throat, slightly dousing the fire inside.
Wiping my mouth with my sleeve, I pointed at the report card. "Second place! Mom, I got second! Jumped from nineteenth!"
Mom placed the report card on the workbench, smoothing the creases at the corners with her hand, and let out a soft "Hmm."
"That's pretty impressive," she said, raising her eyes to look at me. "But, isn't there still a first place above you?"
The excitement in my heart was dampened a bit by her words, but it quickly flared up again. "Mom! I jumped from the teens straight to second! A leap! A qualitative leap!"
Seeing my eager look for praise, the corner of her mouth finally curved up a tiny bit. The smile was faint, like a dragonfly skimming the water.
"I know. It's really good." She paused. "I'll make something special for dinner tonight. What do you want to eat?"
I took a step closer, leaning my hands on the edge of the workbench, lowering my voice. "Just... just a special dinner?"
Lily leaves and petals were still scattered on the workbench. Her fingers unconsciously picked up a piece and crushed it.
Mom glanced at me, her gaze a bit evasive, a faint pink tinge appearing at the roots of her ears.
"We'll have to talk about that at home," she said, her voice lowered, carrying a hint of playful reproach. "You want to do it in the flower shop?"
After saying it, she seemed to realize the implication of her words and quickly turned her face away, turning around to arrange the lilies, leaving me with her back and the back of her neck, which was turning red.
The speaker might have been unintentional, but the listener took it to heart.
My heart gave a sudden lurch, like a seed cracking open with a "pop," sprouting a shameful little bud.
"The flower shop... seems... maybe not impossible?" I muttered quietly.
"What did you say?"
Mom suddenly turned her head, almond-shaped eyes narrowing slightly.
I quickly shook my head and waved my hands. "Nothing, nothing! I said... I'll go do my homework in the back!" My heart pounded like I'd committed a theft.
Mom gave a noncommittal "Hmm" and didn't pursue it.
Behind the flower shop, a small space was partitioned off by a curtain, with a small sofa and a folding table. It was where Mom took her naps or where I stayed when I came over. I put down my backpack and took out my test papers, but couldn't focus on a single word.
The tip of my nose still seemed to catch the warm, soft scent of flowers and her own fragrance from when I was close to her earlier.
My ears kept replaying her words, "You want to do it in the flower shop?" and that one coquettish glare.
Fuck.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stare at the math formulas.
Can't think about it. Tonight... we'll talk tonight.
...
Mom closed the shop early and took me out for a good meal.
After eating, we walked home side by side.
I'd been picking her up at night for a while now. She'd said several times it wasn't necessary, worried it would interfere with my studies.
I didn't listen.
Our hands occasionally brushed against each other. The moment our skin touched, it felt like a tiny electric current zipped through.
We didn't speak. The streetlights stretched and shortened our shadows.
Home. Door closed.
The entryway light wasn't on yet, only the faint light from the opposite building filtering in through the living room window. The darkness amplified all senses.
Almost instantly, I wrapped my arms around her from behind.
My arms encircled her slender waist, my face buried in her long hair that carried a faint fragrance.
Having held back for almost a month, the desire inside me was like a ravenous beast, smashing through all reason.
"Mom..."
My voice was terribly hoarse, breathless. My hands were already starting to wander upward, gripping the soft, full mounds through her sweater.
Mom's body stiffened for a moment, then softened.
But her hand covered the back of mine and patted it gently.
"Go take a bath," she said, her voice also a bit unsteady, but she was trying to maintain calm.
I didn't let go. Instead, I held her tighter, burying my nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply the scent of her skin.
"Alright..." I grumbled reluctantly, but a crazy thought suddenly flashed through my mind.
That thought made my throat dry and my heart pound like a drum.
"Mom," I whispered against her ear, my hot breath hitting her sensitive earlobe. "Let's take a bath together."
The person in my arms clearly trembled.
"What nonsense..." She tried to break free, but her strength was weak.
"Why not?" I tightened my arms, not letting her escape, my lips brushing lightly against her earlobe. "Saves water. And... it's been a long time since we took a bath."
I felt her ear heat up rapidly.
"I'll go run the water!" Before she could object further, I let go of her and darted towards the bathroom like a triumphant rabbit.
"An'an!" she called from behind, her voice panicked.
I didn't look back.
Rushing into the bathroom, I closed the door behind me. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest, my palms sweaty.
First, I checked the window—shut tight. Then I turned on the heater fan. Amidst the buzzing sound, hot air began to fill the room.
Late autumn. Can't catch a cold.
Next, I grabbed the showerhead and rinsed the white bathtub inside and out. Water droplets danced on the porcelain surface.
Plugged in the rubber stopper, turned on the hot water faucet.
Warm water gushed out, creating a mist of white steam.
Just then, the door was pushed open gently.
Mom walked in carrying two stacks of clean clothes, her face still flushed with lingering color and a trace of helpless reproach.
She placed the clothes on the washing machine, her movements a bit flustered.
This was the moment I was waiting for.
The sound of running water masked my footsteps.
I pressed against her from behind again, wrapping my arms around her once more.
This time, without any hindrance, my hand went straight under the hem of her sweater, my palm meeting the warm, smooth skin of her waist. Upward, eagerly climbing over the thin layer of her bra, grasping the heavy, soft flesh I'd missed day and night.
"Mmm..." Mom, caught off guard, let out a short, startled gasp.
My lips were already pressed against her burning earlobe, gently biting the soft earlobe, my tongue giving it a lick.
She shuddered all over.
"An... stop messing around..." Her voice trembled.
I didn't give her a chance.
The moment Mom turned her head, my other hand cupped her face. I tilted my head and fiercely kissed her lips.
"Mmph...!"
Her protest was stifled.
My kiss was urgent and fierce, like a volcano suppressed for too long.
Prying open her teeth was effortless. My tongue drove straight in, greedily entangling with her evading, fragrant tongue.
At first, she tried to push me away, her hands pushing against my chest, but soon, that strength softened.
I could feel that something deep within her body had also been ignited.
This past month, it wasn't just me who had been holding back.
My kissing skills were far from what they used to be.
My tongue deftly swept over the roof of her mouth, scraped past her sensitive teeth, then coiled around her tongue, sucking and intertwining forcefully.
The wet, smacking sounds were particularly lewd against the background noise of running water.
Mom was soon panting heavily, her hot breath spraying on my face.
The hands that had been pushing against my chest had unconsciously turned into fists clutching the fabric of my shirt.
One of my hands was still wreaking havoc inside her bra, kneading the full breast, my fingers finding the already hardened nipple, pinching and twisting it.
The other hand slid down, over her panties, pressing accurately against the soft bulge between her legs.
A gentle press.
"Ah..." A moan escaped from deep in Mom's throat, her waist involuntarily arching forward.
Through the fabric, I could clearly feel that the place between her legs was already wet.
Warm, even a bit hot.
A hard little point pressed against the fabric underneath—her erect clitoris.
My fingers began to rhythmically press and rub that little point, through the panty fabric, mimicking a thrusting motion, grinding against her sensitive opening.
Mom's breathing was completely ragged now. Her body felt boneless, only held up by my embrace to keep from sliding down.
Her tongue began to respond to me clumsily but fervently, tangling with mine, swallowing each other's saliva.
Only when she was almost out of breath did I finally release her lips.
We both gasped heavily.
Her eyes were impossibly wet, veiled with a thick haze of lust, her cheeks flushed, her slightly swollen, reddened lips parted, exhaling hot, sweet breath.
The bathtub was more than half full now, steam rising, the mirror completely fogged.
Looking at her, so close, so lost in passion, I gently rubbed the pad of my thumb over her damp, slightly swollen lips.
"Mom."
My voice was wrecked, thick with desire and a hint of coaxing. "It'll take a while to fill up... Use your little mouth to help me first, okay?"
Mom's dazed almond-shaped eyes glared at me. The glare held no power; instead, it was full of allure, a mix of shy annoyance and indulgence.
She didn't speak. She didn't refuse.
She just turned around to face me, then lowered her eyes.
Her knees gently touched the cold tiles, making a faint sound.
Those almond-shaped eyes, always gentle and smiling, now looked up at me, wet and glistening. There was no resistance in them, only a tacit understanding, a kind of indulgent, seductive charm.
She even... lightly bit her lower lip, the corner of her mouth curling into a very faint, slightly mischievous smile.
That little gesture almost made me lose it right then and there.
She didn't speak. She just reached out—that pale, soft hand that had just been trimming lilies—and gently rested it on the zipper of my jeans.
"Mom..."
My throat ached with dryness, my voice utterly wrecked.
She looked up, giving me an incredibly alluring, exasperated glance, as if saying, "What's the hurry?"
Then, she lowered her head, focusing on the task at hand.
The zipper was slowly, inch by inch, pulled down by her.
The tiny, sharp sound of the metal teeth separating was piercingly clear amidst the sound of running water.
I held my breath, my eyes fixed on her face, on her slightly lowered long eyelashes, on her slightly parted, swollen, moist lips.
Finally, the zipper reached the bottom.
Her hand reached in, and through the thin fabric of my underwear, gently grasped my cock, which was already painfully hard, swollen and ready to burst.
"Mmm..." I couldn't help but groan, my hips instinctively thrusting forward slightly.
She felt it. Her fingertips gave a not-too-light, not-too-heavy squeeze, as if punishing my impatience, or perhaps soothing it.
Then, she hooked the edge of my underwear and pulled it down.
That thick, long, heavily veined cock, suppressed for almost a month, of astonishing size, instantly sprang out, standing straight up, almost radiating scorching heat, right before her eyes.
The purplish-red glans was large and fierce, a shiny, sticky fluid already seeping from the slit, forming a long, silvery thread.
Mom looked at it, her gaze deepening.
She didn't act immediately. Instead, she leaned closer. Her warm breath hit it first, brushing over my sensitive tip.
Then, she raised her head and looked at me, her eyes carrying a... near-teasing inquiry.
"Mom..."
I gasped for breath, my fingers threading through her silky long hair, "Quick... quick, take it in..."
She smiled, a very light smile, with a hint of mischievous triumph.
Then, she lowered her head, opened her mouth, but didn't take it in directly.
Instead, she first used those soft, wet, slightly swollen lips to gently kiss my purplish-red glans.
As if kissing a precious treasure.
The warm, wet sensation shot like an electric current from my tailbone to the top of my head.
"Hiss—"
I sucked in a sharp breath, the muscles in my thighs tensing.
She seemed very pleased with my reaction. Her tongue peeked out, dexterously, with a hint of playful teasing, swirling around the swollen coronal ridge.
Wet, warm, soft.
Her tongue... how could it be so skilled?
"Mom... your tongue..."
My voice trembled violently, my hand gripping her hair unconsciously tightening.
She let out a muffled, low chuckle in her throat. Then, finally, she opened her mouth wide and deeply, in one gulp, swallowed my huge, burning glans.
"Ugh ah—!"
I threw my head back with pleasure, letting out a low roar.
So... so good.
Her mouth was hot, wet, tight, her tongue agile like a snake, immediately coiling around, licking and scraping the most sensitive ridges and slit of my glans from every angle.
She took it deep, the glans directly hitting the back of her throat.
I could feel the contraction and swallowing of her throat muscles.
She didn't stop, starting a rhythmic in-and-out motion.
Her head moved up and down, her long hair swaying with the movement.
One hand rested on my thigh, the other wasn't idle either, reaching down to gently cup my heavy balls, her fingertips kneading them almost imperceptibly.
"Ha... Mom... so good at this... your mouth... too amazing..."
I praised incoherently, my hips involuntarily thrusting slightly in rhythm with her movements.
Hearing my praise, she worked even harder.
Sometimes deep-throating, taking the whole length in, her throat tightly gripping the base; other times slowly pulling back, only holding the tip, using her tongue to rapidly flick the slit.
The wet, sucking sounds mixed with heavy panting echoed in the steamy bathroom.
The bathtub was almost full, steam rising.
My pleasure rapidly built up, my lower abdomen tightened, familiar waves of tingling numbness washing over me.
"Mom... I... I'm going to cum!" I warned urgently, the hand pressing the back of her head applying a bit more force.
Hearing my words, far from letting go, her throat relaxed instead, taking me even deeper, her hands tightly grabbing my buttocks, pulling me into her mouth.
This action, this silent permission, became the final catalyst.
"Cumming—!"
I roared, my waist thrusting forward violently, driving my cock deep into the very back of her mouth, the glans pressing hard against her soft throat wall.
Gush after gush of hot, thick semen, pent up for almost a month, erupted like a floodgate opening from the slit, shooting directly into her throat!
"Mmm...!"
Mom let out a muffled groan in her throat, but her swallowing action didn't pause for a second.
Her throat moved rhythmically, expertly, swallowing down every last drop of my hot, spurting semen without missing a beat.
I could even hear the faint "gulp" sounds as she swallowed.
This sound, this sight, made me shiver with pleasure to my scalp. The ejaculation lasted over ten seconds, until the very last drop was milked out.
I gasped for breath, my body still trembling slightly.
Mom slowly withdrew my now somewhat softened cock from her mouth, a soft "pop" sound and a few sticky strands of silver following.
She elegantly wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, then looked up at me.
Her eyes were hazy, cheeks flushed, lips a bit swollen, but the corner of her mouth held a satisfied, lazy smile.
"Satisfied? You little rascal."
Her voice was hoarse, carrying the sweet stickiness after intimacy.
I didn't speak. I simply bent down, pulled her up from the floor into my arms, and kissed her lips fiercely.
My tongue pried open her teeth, plunging deep inside, eagerly searching for the lingering taste of me in her mouth.
A faint musky scent, mixed with her own sweetness.
She was stunned for a moment, then responded passionately, wrapping her arms around my neck, her tongue actively tangling with mine, exchanging this forbidden, intimate kiss full of the taste of semen.
Only when we were both almost out of breath did I let her go, resting my forehead against hers.
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