Fallen
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FM-44
🕑 Added 2025-07-27 00:34:51 +0000 UTCChapter 44 – Fallen Mother
Mom’s delicate hand was as beautiful as snow jade, fair and flawless, her skin moist and soft. When she grasped Old Jiao’s thick, dark rod, the contrast was striking. Old Jiao’s member was thick, dark, and veined, now standing hard and tall like a pillar, exuding masculine hormones robust in a way few men could match.
With Mom’s snowy, delicate hand wrapped around it, skin on skin, it was hard to imagine such a beautiful hand holding such a coarse, dark thing the contrast was almost surreal. Yet, this very contrast was thrilling, the two pressed tightly together, one seemingly delicate, the other strong, an image that stirred excitement.
Honestly, besides anger, I also felt a strange excitement not because Mom was holding Old Jiao’s member, but because I’d never imagined such a beautiful hand holding such a thick, dark rod. The sight itself was enough to make my heart race.
I forced that excitement down, hiding behind the curtain and peeking out, not daring to shout, just watching. By now, I was also hard in my pants.
At this moment, Mom’s pale hand began to move slowly. Old Jiao’s body shuddered, as if he was about to climax from pleasure. I thought, is his self-control really that bad?
But I was wrong Old Jiao didn’t climax, he was just overwhelmed by pleasure. His face showed enjoyment, eyes half-closed, savoring the moment as he looked at Mom. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could imagine the excitement, heat, and greed in them. With a beauty like Mom in front of him, slightly bent over, her flawless hand stroking his thick, dark rod, the sensation must have been indescribable.
Mom wore only a white blouse, which hugged her curves tightly, especially her full, round chest, the buttons straining to hold back the swell. At her collar, her delicate collarbones were visible, exuding sensuality; below that, flawless white skin, and below that, the faint edge of a black lace bra, a deep, enticing cleavage formed by her full breasts.
Mom bent forward slightly. From Old Jiao’s angle, he could see everything at her chest, nothing hidden.
Old Jiao’s eyes were full of lust. His hand twitched, as if wanting to grab her, but he didn’t dare Mom’s beautiful face was cold as ice.
Mom’s soft, white hand stroked Old Jiao’s rod up and down, and his face was full of pleasure. To have such a beautiful woman stroking him this was a pleasure beyond words.
Who was Old Jiao? Just a little old man from a remote mountain village, already past his prime, not the type women liked, and not good-looking he could even be called ugly. He had no money, no power, lived in a half-tile, half-flat house on the mountain, drank, and was dirt poor a man at the very bottom.
But now, it was my mother an ice queen, a real deputy mayor, powerful, wealthy, a goddess to countless men, and my own goddess who was stroking his rod, her black hair cascading over her shoulders as she bent forward.
Although Mom bent down, she didn’t look at Old Jiao’s burning rod, but stared at him, her gaze sharp as a knife. Old Jiao, though, was completely at ease, mouth open, moaning with pleasure.
Mom suddenly said, “Keep it down.”
Old Jiao replied, “Girl, it’s not that I want to moan, it’s just… your hand… feels too good.”
Mom was a bit helpless. She knew that when a man is in pleasure, he can’t help himself. Once lust takes over, nothing can stop it.
She said nothing more, just sped up her hand, clearly wanting him to finish quickly.
But Old Jiao’s attention wasn’t on that. His gaze was fixed on Mom’s full chest, eyes shining. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed one of her breasts through the thin blouse and bra, his fingers spreading and squeezing, though he couldn’t fit it all in one hand.
Mom’s breasts were so round and full that one hand couldn’t hold them. As soon as Old Jiao grabbed her, he moaned in pleasure.
At the same time, Mom let out a surprised “Ah!” his sudden move had caught her off guard.
Mom glared coldly at him. “Old Jiao, let go!”
“Girl, I’ve already grabbed it, letting go now seems a waste,” Old Jiao said.
“Are you letting go or not?”
“I… Ow, ow, ow, don’t squeeze, I’ll let go!” Old Jiao suddenly begged.
Watching, I didn’t know what was happening, but quickly realized Mom had grabbed his manhood. If he didn’t let go, she’d squeeze harder.
I thought, good job, Mom! That’s what he gets for being bold.
Sure enough, Old Jiao let go of her breast, face full of regret.
Mom, seeing him let go, was a little satisfied, but she didn’t let go of his rod, continuing to stroke it.
Unable to grope her chest, Old Jiao was disappointed, but more than that, he was excited. To have a beauty like Mom stroking him any man would lose control.
But why hadn’t he finished yet? I stared at his crotch, shocked to see his rod growing even thicker and more menacing in Mom’s beautiful hand, veins bulging.
I was amazed Old Jiao, for all his age and frailty, had such stamina and strength. Truly, appearances can be deceiving.
I didn’t know what Mom was thinking, but I cursed Old Jiao in my heart. Still, cursing did nothing he was enjoying the service of Mom’s delicate hand, a pleasure like that of an emperor for a mountain villager.
What luck for this old man! But this would be the only time.
I clenched my fist. The rain was already lighter maybe in a day or two it would stop.
“Girl…” Old Jiao suddenly said, voice trembling.
“What?”
“Well…”
“Don’t stammer, say it!”
“It’s just… standing here is tiring. Could I…”
Mom frowned, a bit annoyed, but seeing his expression, she looked around and said, “Sit on that chair.”
There was a low bamboo chair in the corridor, barely higher than a stool. Old Jiao agreed, waddling over, pants still around his ankles, his thick rod bobbing as he walked.
As he was about to sit, Mom called out, “Put your pants on. Don’t drag them around like that.”
“Ah…” Old Jiao hesitated. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but girl, I only have this pair, and if it gets dirty, I’ll have nothing to wear…”
Mom was silent for a while, then said, “No, put them on!”
“But…”
“I know!” Mom hesitated, then said coldly, “Don’t worry, they won’t get dirty.”
Old Jiao scratched his head. “Alright, whatever you say.”
He pulled up his pants and sat on the bamboo chair, but his thick rod still stood tall, exposed.
Mom stood for a moment, then walked over.
This time, she couldn’t just bend over she had to squat down.
As she squatted, Old Jiao stared at her full chest, eyes nearly popping out, for from his angle he could see the curves of her breasts perfectly.
“Lie down!” Mom suddenly ordered coldly.
“Huh? But…”
“Lie down!” she commanded.
Old Jiao obeyed, lying down.
Then Mom reached out and grabbed his throbbing rod again, making Old Jiao’s face light up with pleasure.
Squatting in front of him, Mom’s delicate hand stroked his rod up and down not mechanically, not roughly, but focusing on the upper part, just below the head, to stimulate him more.
But Old Jiao’s rod was so big, and Mom had been stroking for a while he wasn’t finishing quickly.
Old Jiao lay on the low bamboo chair, his rod standing tall, while beautiful Mom squatted before him, serving him like a maid.
His eyes narrowed in pleasure, but Mom didn’t notice, her gaze fixed on his rod.
After a while, Mom seemed tired of squatting, a trace of impatience on her face.
“Why aren’t you finishing?” she asked.
“Huh?” Old Jiao looked confused. “Well…”
“If you’re not going to, then forget it.” Mom stood up to leave.
Old Jiao panicked, grabbing her wrist. Maybe he pulled too hard, or maybe she lost her balance, but she fell backward, her full, round hips landing right on his crotch.
“Oh…” Old Jiao cried out in pain, head thrown back, face red, veins bulging.
Clearly, her hips had slammed into his rod.
Watching from the window, I was delighted serves him right! Maybe it broke, and he’d finally stop bothering Mom.
I was thrilled. Mom, hearing his cry, quickly stood up. Old Jiao was doubled over in pain.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked.
“It hurts… oh, girl, it hurts!” he moaned.
Mom stood for a moment, then squatted down, “Move your hand, let me see.”
Old Jiao trembled as he moved his hand.
His rod was now limp, no longer proud.
Seeing his pain, I was happy maybe now he’d leave Mom alone.
…
Finally, the thunderstorm subsided.
Two days later, the rain stopped.
But my phone was dead, so we couldn’t call Mom’s assistant so we had to go down the mountain ourselves.
I was thrilled, rushing inside to tell Mom. But when I entered, I was speechless.
Inside, Old Jiao lay in bed, looking unwell. The day Mom had helped him inside, I’d asked what was wrong she said he’d hurt his stomach. I pretended to believe her, but I knew the truth his rod was likely ruined, and I was glad.
But I also felt a little bad. Since Old Jiao became a “patient,” Mom neglected me, spending all her time caring for him. Though she was cold as ice, she was meticulous in caring for others. When I entered, she was wiping his face with a towel, very attentive, while he lay there, content.
But Mom spoke first, “Xiao Fan, pack up, we’re going down the mountain this afternoon.”
Old Jiao’s face changed instantly from contentment to panic.
“What? Girl, you’re leaving?” he cried.
“Yes.”
He froze like a statue.
I laughed inside.
Finally, the afternoon came. The rain had stopped, and I waited under the eaves, excited. When Mom came out, I rushed over.
But behind her was Old Jiao, grinning from ear to ear, carrying a tattered bag. I had a bad feeling.
“Mom…” I looked at her, eyes full of complaint.
But she ignored me. “From today, Old Jiao will live with us until he recovers.”
I tried to protest, but nothing came out. Once Mom decided something, nothing could change her mind.
…
Leaving Lao Long Village, on the way home, I stared out the window, feeling uneasy.
We rode in a seven-seat van normal for Mom’s status. I sat in the back row with Mom in the middle, Old Jiao on her other side. Up front were Mom’s assistants and staff.
Though we’d sheltered on the mountain for a while, her assistants had finished their work, so we could leave right away. Mom was clearly tired of Lao Long Village and wanted to leave quickly.
The trip was silent.
We finally returned to Rongcheng.
Mom didn’t go to the office but went home. The three of us entered the familiar house.
I relaxed, but seeing Old Jiao sitting on the sofa as if he owned the place soured my mood, so I went to my room.
Maybe I was too tired I soon fell asleep, waking to find it was already dark.
I went to the living room. It was quiet. On the coffee table was a note from Mom: she’d taken Old Jiao out to do something, and I should eat dinner outside.
I can’t describe how I felt unwilling, but what could I do?
I ate outside, bored, then went to an internet café until 11 p.m.
When I got home, I saw Mom coming out of a room the one Zhong Niu used to stay in. Why was she coming out of there so late?
As I stood there in surprise, Mom said, “Xiao Fan, come here for a moment.”
