I am eighteen years old this year. I dropped out of school before finishing the second year of junior high school. At that time, I felt that studying was boring. I either skipped classes or spent my days hanging out in Internet cafes with a bunch of friends. The teacher was too lazy to take care of me and said that I was not good at studying. Later, I simply stopped going to school and started to hang around. I dyed my hair, pierced two earrings in my ears, and was lazy all day. My family said I was bad, but I thought this was freedom.

It was just dawn, and I slowly came out of the Internet cafe. I watched pornographic websites all night, and my heart was itching with desire. Along the way, I looked at women dressed sexy, and my penis suddenly hardened. I stared at the bulging breasts of the passing women fiercely, and I was very excited.

When I got home, I was so tired that I could hardly lift my feet, and dragged my heavy body to the door. As soon as the door opened, my mother came to meet me, frowning and dissatisfied.

"Hey, you went out to play all night again? When will you be more careful!" Her tone was full of suppressed anger.

I lowered my head, my eyelids half drooped, and I was too lazy to look up at her. I just said, "Don't bother me, I want to sleep." The voice was low, but with undisguised irritation.

I walked straight to the bedroom, and I heard her suppressed question from behind: "How can you talk to your mother like this!" But before she finished speaking, with a "bang", the bedroom door was slammed by me, shaking the door frame slightly.

There was silence outside the door for a moment. Mom stood there in a daze, then sighed for a long time, and a bitter smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. She murmured to herself: "I spoiled him too much when I was a child, and now it's good, who can blame anyone?"

Shaking her head, Mom suppressed the bitterness in her heart, glanced at the closed bedroom door, turned around and picked up the basket: "Forget it, let him sleep. Go buy vegetables first, and I have to cook for him."

Her back was slightly hunched, but her steps were still steady, as if she had long been accustomed to this situation.

Although I was tired, after I lay down on the bed, my mind immediately recalled the passionate sex scenes in the pornographic pictures. I stroked my penis vigorously. The pornographic pictures on the website were not only about sex, but also various styles of human-dog sex, old men and young girls... and mature women and teenagers. Even many pictures were titled "Real Incest between Mother and Son".

I stroked it for a while, and my hard penis trembled a few times, and the turbid semen sprayed out. After shooting into the air, the semen fell back on my body, thighs, and newly changed sheets. Looking at the washed white sheets stained with semen, I suddenly thought: If the large pieces of semen left on the quilt were seen by my mother, what would her expression be like?

Thinking of this, the softened penis became hard again unconsciously, and I continued to stroke it. This time, the pleasure of the penis being stroked was more comprehensive. On the eve of ejaculation, my heart seemed to fly out.

"Pah...Pah..." This time, I deliberately ejaculated towards the quilt. I was suddenly very excited when I saw the clumps of semen falling on the quilt that my mother had worked so hard to wash.

Around noon, I was awakened by the urge to urinate, and ran to the bathroom wearing only a pair of briefs.

After a hearty urination, I touched my penis a few times and breathed a breath of fresh air.

When I passed the kitchen, I saw my mother standing by the sink washing vegetables. The sunlight came in through the window and reflected on her side face, making the faint wrinkles particularly clear. She lowered her head to scrub a handful of green vegetables while humming a tuneless song. The water flow washed the leaves and made a faint sound. It seemed that the whole world was quiet at this moment. The rough hands slid with the clear water, and from time to time, they gently shook off the water droplets. The movements were skillful and neat, as if this had become a normal part of her life.

I don't know what happened today, I actually stopped and secretly watched my mother wash vegetables...

My mother is 39 years old this year, with black curly hair, medium height, dignified face, and well-proportioned figure. She is an elegant and charming middle-aged woman. She works in a TV station as an office director, and she is particularly particular about her image on weekdays. As a senior white-collar worker, she always wears a decent professional suit, black stilettos, and black stockings. Her every move exudes the competence and charm of a mature woman.

Today happened to be her annual leave, but she still maintained her usual exquisite image. After buying vegetables and returning home, she didn't even have time to change her professional suit, and she went into the kitchen early. The black high heels made a crisp sound on the tile floor, which looked particularly neat. She rolled up her sleeves and stood busy by the sink, skillfully picking and washing vegetables, humming a little song, and planning the lunch menu, exuding a unique charm that is both professional and homely.

That was a preview of Rape Mom in the Kitchen. To read the rest purchase the book.

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