Meanwhile, on the first floor in Zhou Shiwen’s room.
Zhou Shiwen wasn’t studying as he’d claimed, nor did he have the mood to watch any videos. His hands were clasped behind his head as he lay on the bed, staring blankly at the pristine white ceiling overhead.
He had been in this state for more than half an hour now. His heart felt utterly chaotic, his mother’s words echoing relentlessly in his mind.
His mother was going to share a bed with that Mu Haipeng, a guy he’d only met once. Though she insisted it was just for sleeping, nothing more, he couldn’t stop the panic and suffocating dread rising within him.
He was just a high school freshman, after all—a boy who hadn’t yet broken free from his dependence on his parents. Being from a single-parent family only deepened his attachment to his mother, making it all the more intense. Of course, he could never voice such feelings aloud.
His mother wanted to find a new partner, and that partner was a high school boy the same age as him. You couldn’t stop the rain or a mother from remarrying. He still had his mother’s company, but what about her? She’d been alone all these years, and he understood her hardships all too well. Any words of protest stuck in his throat like a fishbone, impossible to spit out.
What magnanimity or open-mindedness? That was just a facade—he didn’t want to disappoint her.
But now, facing the prospect of his mother no longer belonging solely to him, that peer of his, Mu Haipeng… He could hardly bring himself to trust the guy. He feared she might be entrusting herself to the wrong person. A tangle of worries, reluctance, and raw panic naturally surged within him.
Compared to that unfamiliar Mu Haipeng being the one his mother entrusted herself to, he’d much rather it be Haoran. At least they knew each other inside and out—lifelong family friends, playmates since childhood. His mother wouldn’t have to worry about drifting away from him.
Or rather, his twisted cuckold fetish for his own mother was subtly at play. Compared to some stranger toying with his stunning, seductive mother, he’d rather his best friend Yang Haoran ravage her brutally. Between the two, Haoran—his buddy since they were kids—fucking his mom felt far more thrilling and visceral to him. Once they got used to it, maybe he could even ask how it felt to pound his beautiful mother. The protagonists in the cuckold mom novels and videos he devoured, the ones populating his fantasies, were always Haoran and his mom. If the one she entrusted herself to was Haoran, their bond was unbreakable. He might even get to watch firsthand, just like in those videos, as his best friend Yang Haoran pounded his mom mercilessly. That would be his fantasy made reality—intensely arousing. Haoran fucking his mom right in front of him would be the ultimate “mother-front” thrill. He was sure it’d electrify him too. Such an absurd scenario might actually play out in real life.
But if it was Mu Haipeng? None of that would ever happen…
That was why his heart was a whirlwind of conflict right now, a sour taste he couldn’t quite name. It felt like everything was spiraling toward the worst possible outcome.
Should he tell Haoran about his mom sleeping with Mu Haipeng? Alert him to stop it? Should he bare his soul and confess his true feelings? The thought bubbled up in Zhou Shiwen’s mind.
With that idea taking root, his heart stirred restlessly. If Haoran could just stop this, everything could still be salvaged.
His perverted fantasies could become reality too. As for confessing… well, as long as they halted things now, he could reveal it gradually later—no sudden exposure to his best friend, no awkward humiliation.
Besides, his mother seemed to like Haoran quite a bit. With his own backing, she might ditch Mu Haipeng and let Haoran take his place. Haoran would get what he wanted, and out of gratitude, he might even let Zhou Shiwen watch him play with his mom.
If his mother could fall for someone his age, why not his best friend Haoran? Back at the start, if she’d announced her new partner was his peer—and his best buddy Yang Haoran—he’d have fought it tooth and nail. But now, with Mu Haipeng in the picture as the worse option, he’d pick Haoran every time.
At least he’d be handing his own mom over to fuck—bro code, right? After all these years of friendship, how could Haoran refuse letting him watch? With that thought, Zhou Shiwen’s heart pounded. He grabbed his phone, opened WeChat, found the contact labeled “Haoran,” and initiated a voice call.
…
Meanwhile, Yang Haoran steadied his fully revived massive cock, poised to thrust into Aunt Shen’s dripping slit.
Shen Qing lay flat on the soft king-sized bed, her plump, beautiful legs clad in black stockings splayed wide in an M-shape. The sleek fabric was already soaked, glistening with lewd sheen. Naked except for those stockings, she struck a posture of utter debauchery, inviting him in like a trap ready to snap shut. Her cheeks flushed rosy, her gaze on Yang Haoran brimmed with tender allure.
Yang Haoran lined up with her slick, tender pussy and drove straight in. With a wet squelch, the finger-sized entrance stretched wide around him. Its supple grip accommodated his thick length entirely, the surrounding pink folds writhing and clinging in delight at their master’s entry.
Shen Qing let out a soft whimper from her flushed lips, her watery eyes hazy with desire as she watched the huge rod plunge into her depths. This was the key to her happiness for the rest of her life—her little Master.
Just as the two were about to plunge back into their carnal bliss, an untimely ringtone shattered the moment.
Yang Haoran felt a flash of irritation. He snatched the vibrating phone from beside him, ready to hang up—until he glimpsed the caller ID: Shiwen. His eyes widened in surprise.
“Who is it?” Shen Qing asked, noticing his expression.
Her legs were still held high in that M-shape, her pussy impaled in the most lascivious position. She couldn’t move easily to check the screen.
“Shh… quiet. It’s Shiwen,” Yang Haoran whispered to Aunt Shen.
He couldn’t fathom why Shiwen was calling now. A bit worried, he still hit accept.
Had he been found out? Shen Qing’s relaxed expression tightened instantly, her eyes locking on Yang Haoran in tense silence.
The pair froze like illicit lovers caught mid-affair, not daring to make a sound. The room fell into utter stillness.
“Hey, is that Haoran?” A voice both of them knew all too well echoed through the room, shattering the quiet.
“Oh… yeah, it’s me. What’s up, Shiwen? Calling so late?” Yang Haoran replied in feigned casualness, though his heart hammered wildly. He dreaded hearing, I know you’re at my house.
He was balls-deep in the guy’s mom right now. If Shiwen found out, their lifelong brotherhood—forged through thick and thin—would shatter.
“Mm, there’s something urgent I need to talk to you about. You free right now? Anyone with you?” Yang Haoran instinctively glanced down at Aunt Shen, her face still flushed beneath him. His heart nearly leaped from his chest. Shen Qing pressed a jade finger to her red lips, making a “shh” gesture to signal he should say no one was there.
