Fallen
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🕑 Added 2025-08-10 00:25:20 +0000 UTCChapter 16 Fallen Mother Volume Two: Continuation
That weekend night, I went to bed early, so I knew nothing of what happened.
The room was so well soundproofed that unless furniture was knocked over or thunder rumbled, I couldn’t hear anything from outside.
And once I was asleep, I was like a dead pig almost impossible to wake.
I was already asleep, but Mom was still in the living room watching TV. Besides watching, she’d occasionally reply to messages on her phone, chatting on social media.
The lights in the living room were dim, perfect for getting immersed in a show.
Around nine in the evening, Mom was sitting on the sofa, shoes off, her beautiful feet resting on the glass coffee table.
It was summer, so she wore a black spaghetti-strap dress, the hem falling just below her knees, revealing two legs as white as mutton fat jade.
Because of gravity, the skirt draped down, showing off the long curves of her legs, and above that, her round, firm thighs pressed together enough to spark anyone’s imagination.
She lay on the sofa, black hair loose, the dim light casting a mysterious charm over her beautiful face.
Even lying down, her chest was high and full, the skin at her neckline flawless and milky white.
She lay there with a kind of sacred, lazy aura red lips vivid, eyes sultry, perfect in every way.
Her phone suddenly chimed.
Mom glanced at it, shook her head, then turned it off, picked up the remote, and focused on her show.
Time passed. After about half an hour, maybe feeling tired from her position, she sat up, set a cushion beside her, and lay on her side to watch TV.
Lying like that, her tall, voluptuous curves were even more alluring, with a lazy air.
With her natural elegance and cool beauty, if a photographer had been there, they’d have snapped away in awe.
After a while, Mom’s eyelids began to droop sleepiness was coming on.
Just then, a hunched old man shuffled down the hallway, a blanket in hand, limping toward the drowsy Mom.
At first, Mom didn’t notice. When Old Jiao got close, she startled awake, her sleepiness vanishing.
“Girl…” Old Jiao said with concern, “Don’t set the AC so cold, you’ll catch a chill.”
He offered her the blanket.
Mom sat up, not taking it, her eyes a bit complicated.
Old Jiao wasn’t embarrassed. “Here, girl, let me cover you.”
He stood, spread the blanket, and tried to lay it over her legs.
“No need!” Mom refused.
“Put it on, you won’t be so cold. If you catch a cold, that’s no good,” Old Jiao insisted.
Mom frowned, seeing he wouldn’t give up, and reached out to push him away.
Suddenly, Old Jiao slipped and fell to the floor with an “ow.”
The suddenness startled Mom. She hurried to help him up.
But at that moment, Old Jiao pounced like a hungry wolf, pinning Mom to the sofa.
Mom cried out in surprise.
“Old Jiao, don’t get up!” she pushed hard.
But somehow, Old Jiao was incredibly strong. One hand grabbed her slim waist, the other yanked up her dress.
“No, girl, I like you… I really like you…” Old Jiao ignored her struggles, groping her body. “It’s been days since we did it I really want it. Feel here, I’m hard as steel. Please, just satisfy me…”
He was desperate, unable to hold back, his hands roaming her voluptuous body, finally slipping under her dress.
Inside her dress was Mom’s most sensitive, private place. When Old Jiao’s rough, calloused hand reached in, Mom immediately sensed it, letting out a soft moan, her face changing as if she wanted to stop him.
But then, to her shock, Old Jiao suddenly yanked her dress up and ducked his head underneath.
Mom was caught off guard, trying to sit up, but Old Jiao’s hands wrapped under her thighs, hoisting her round, plump legs onto his shoulders.
She couldn’t sit up, and didn’t have the strength to push him off.
Her dress was hiked up, her long, white, round legs exposed smooth as jade, held on Old Jiao’s shoulders.
Old Jiao’s head was under her dress, moving roughly, making the fabric rise and fall.
At this point, Mom gave up trying to sit up, her face flushing, eyes turning sultry, her hands weakly holding Old Jiao’s head but unable to push him away.
“Uhh…” Mom suddenly moaned, her full chest arching upward, her body trembling.
And this was just the beginning.
After that, I don’t know what Old Jiao was doing, but Mom’s moans grew louder, sweat beading on her skin, as if she lost herself and stopped resisting.
She seemed defeated, limp. Old Jiao, out of breath, finally pulled his head out from under her dress.
He saw Mom limp and weak, her long, firm legs still on his shoulders.
Then Old Jiao’s hands dove under her dress, grabbing something.
The next moment, a pair of black lace panties was yanked off, left stretched between Mom’s thighs.
Now Mom was completely bare below.
Old Jiao’s eyes were full of lust. He quickly freed one hand, pulled down his shorts and underwear in one go.
With a snap, his thick rod sprang out already hard and upright, the red, round tip pointing right between Mom’s thighs.
“Girl, I’m coming…” Old Jiao gasped.
“No !”
But Mom’s protest was useless. Old Jiao suddenly lifted her long legs, pressing them together.
Her skirt fell, exposing her snowy, round buttocks to the air.
Between her legs, at her most secret spot, soft petals parted, already slick with juices.
Old Jiao held her legs on one shoulder, guiding his thick, dark rod to her entrance.
With no resistance, he pushed forward.
A third of his thick, hard rod slid in.
“Uhh…”
“Ah…”
Both moaned at once.
Time seemed to freeze. At my computer, I was stunned.
I never expected Old Jiao to be so rough and fast, catching Mom off guard and entering her.
Wait!
A terrifying thought hit me.
Maybe it wasn’t that Mom couldn’t stop him maybe she didn’t really want to.
If it was about strength, Mom should be stronger than Old Jiao.
She worked out, was tall, did yoga.
Old Jiao was a drunk, only “gifted” below, but not strong.
Yet this time, Mom didn’t push him off she let him succeed.
I couldn’t help but think: maybe Mom didn’t really want to stop him.
If a woman is truly resisting, she can often kick a man away unless he’s armed.
So how could Mom, facing a short old man, not push him away and let him have his way?
The facts on the screen forced me to consider this.
On the monitor, Old Jiao suddenly thrust hard, his thick rod plunging fully into Mom’s beautiful depths. Mom’s head tilted back, lips parted, a lovely moan escaping.
“Girl, I’m in…” Old Jiao’s forehead bulged with veins, his face full of excitement and pride.
Once again, he had entered the body of this noble, icy city mayor a dream for countless men, and now his, again.
No matter how many times, Old Jiao never tired of it.
He spread Mom’s long, round legs, resting them on his shoulders a position easy for a yoga-practicing woman like her.
From the side, her plump, firm, white hips looked even more stunning, her jade-like legs draped over this old man, a striking contrast.
“I’m… I’m moving…” Old Jiao whispered, then started thrusting.
One knee on the sofa, the other foot on the floor for leverage, he pumped hard.
With a thrust, his thick rod plunged deep, a wet sound ringing out as he pulled back, the shaft glistening.
I was silent.
Mom was already wet maybe that’s why she didn’t resist.
Old Jiao arched his back, his thick rod sliding almost out, the red tip still inside.
Then, without warning, he thrust forward, plunging deep again, his thick shaft swallowed by her soft lips.
“Ahh…” Old Jiao groaned, full of pleasure.
For a few seconds, he seemed to savor it, lost in the feeling.
Then he started moving in earnest.
Pa pa pa pa pa!
In the living room, the sound of flesh striking flesh rang out, wild and fast, a dozen times in a row before pausing.
But after two seconds, it started again Old Jiao pounding Mom’s wet, tight flower, faster and harder, as if his leg was never injured, stronger than ever.
Even lying on the sofa, Mom’s tall figure was as alluring as ever.
Her long, round legs were draped over Old Jiao’s shoulders, white as jade, flawless.
With each thrust, Mom’s mature body trembled, her chest bouncing, one strap slipping down, exposing half a full breast, milky white and gleaming, a red tip peeking out.
“Ahh… girl… I’m fucking you…” Old Jiao gripped her round, plump thighs, thrusting harder and harder, his strength seemingly endless.
