In the photos, a woman with stunning beauty and a smoking-hot figure struck all sorts of provocative poses while dressed in various revealing erotic costumes. Every tantalizing moment had been captured on camera.
“Isn’t this the sexy pics Aunt Shen sent me? The uncensored version?” Yang Haoran’s interest ignited in an instant. He savored each image, pausing for several seconds to admire them, occasionally muttering his thoughts aloud.
“This one’s great. Super nice.”
“This pose… hehe… Aunt Shen’s got some real flexibility.”
“Tsk tsk… mouthwatering… makes me wanna lick the screen.”
“This one’s good too. Slutty outfit, dignified expression, elegant pose—total fallen housewife vibe.”
“Whoa… uncensored, and that tongue-out move is pure ecstasy. She looks just like a bitch in heat.”
Yang Haoran was utterly engrossed. There was something incredibly thrilling about ogling naughty photos of a familiar elder like this. Aunt Shen was a knockout in every way—her looks, her body. No matter the angle or pose, that breathtakingly gorgeous face made every shot flawless.
No wonder they said beautiful people looked good in any photo.
Those graceful, seductive instants had him hooked, a surge of lust rising within him.
After browsing most of them, Yang Haoran suddenly realized he might have overlooked something. If the “Shen” folder was Aunt Shen’s, then the “Liu” folder had to be… Mom’s? The thought made his breathing quicken. Recalling Aunt Shen in her array of lewd, exposing erotic costumes and those soul-stirring poses, could Mom have done the same? No way, right? Mom always had that cold, distant demeanor, keeping everyone at arm’s length. The idea of her in sexy photos created such a massive contrast. His hand trembled slightly on the mouse as excitement gripped him. He navigated back and clicked open the “Liu” folder.
Under Yang Haoran’s eager gaze, the screen switched to reveal row after row of a woman’s erotic shots.
It was Mom! His heart skipped a beat in thrilled shock.
In every photo, Liu Ruoxi wore a stern, icy expression—like eternal frost, aloof from the world. Her exquisite face resembled a jade lotus blooming on a sheer cliff, beautiful yet untouchable, not to be profaned.
Her outfits weren’t as boldly revealing as Aunt Shen’s, but they were still dripping with eroticism. Key areas either exposed vast expanses of smooth, snowy skin and deep, plump cleavage, or offered teasing half-hidden glimpses. The most daring shot captured Liu Ruoxi in a wardrobe malfunction, revealing a peek beneath her skirt: the edge of purple lace panties outlining one plump, puffy labia. The fabric blocked the full view—you could see the shape, but not the details.
Even so, it set Yang Haoran’s heart racing. Judging by the outline, Mom’s pussy was every bit as enticing as Aunt Shen’s slutty one—in fact, since he’d never seen the whole thing, it held even more allure in his mind.
Liu Ruoxi’s poses were relatively modest, evoking an air of dignified elegance. Paired with the lewd erotic costumes and her frosty expression, though, the contrast was explosive.
Compared to Aunt Shen’s bewitching, crowd-melting shots, Liu Ruoxi’s stirred a smoldering evil fire and a surging desire to conquer. He yearned to drag this fairy-like beauty into the abyss of depravity, rip away her icy facade, and revel in her fallen moans.
Yang Haoran’s crotch grew hot and swollen, his massive dragon throbbing wildly as if breathing hot fire. Blood surged through him, lust blazing, a unnatural flush coloring his cheeks.
Right now, he desperately wanted a warm, slick hole to vent into.
It was just too stimulating.
His left hand slipped unconsciously into his pants, stroking his rock-hard, burning cock. His right hand worked the mouse to flip through the photos, his eyes greedily devouring Mom’s images: those tall, proud breasts; her alluring curves; that juicy, peachy ass; and her coldly beautiful face. She was like a goddess from a painting.
“If only Mom would suck my big dick under me… haah…” “And Aunt Shen… that Slutty Bitch… have her lick my balls… Mom on the shaft… hehe…” Yang Haoran fantasized as he stroked, letting out sleazy chuckles and heavy pants. His hand sped up, waves of pleasure from his solo session coursing through his limbs and nerves.
Knock knock…
A sudden knock at the door startled him. Mom’s figure flashed in his mind.
He yanked up his pants in a hurry, clicked the mouse frantically to close everything, and let out a relieved breath. But then doubt crept in—why hadn’t Mom come in yet? She used to respect his privacy, but ever since catching him with porn, she’d banned locked doors. She’d knock twice as a heads-up and then enter.
“Knock knock… Haoran… open up… it’s Dad.”
His father’s voice came from outside.
Yang Haoran relaxed. It was just Dad. But what did Dad want at this hour? He shut down the computer and, still puzzled, opened the door. Sure enough, Dad stood there. “Dad, what’s up?”
His dad rarely meddled in his affairs—he couldn’t, really. In most families, it was strict dad and doting mom; theirs was the opposite: strict mom, indulgent dad.
“Let’s talk inside…”
Yang Haoran noticed Dad’s sneaky expression. This was getting weird. Dad had been unusually warm when he got home, and now this visit. Something was off.
He closed the door. Dad even twisted the inner lock, as if afraid of interruptions.
The father and son sat side by side on the bed.
“Dad, what is it?” Yang Haoran asked, baffled.
“Haoran, how’s your old man treated you usually?” Yang Wenfu patted his shoulder with a kind smile.
Yang Haoran was lost. “Pretty good. Dad, just spit it out.”
He thought about it—Dad really was good to him. His pocket money came mostly from Dad; whenever he needed cash, Dad delivered.
Mom wasn’t stingy, but she’d grill him on the purpose first.
Pleased with the answer, Yang Wenfu smiled warmly. “Haoran, do you know what tomorrow is?”
“Tomorrow?” Yang Haoran pondered. Saturday, September 26th. Not a holiday—Chinese National Day was still days away. Nothing special? Seeing his confusion, Yang Wenfu didn’t keep him guessing. “Tomorrow’s the 26th—your mom and my wedding anniversary. Normal if you didn’t know.”
It was news to Yang Haoran, who looked surprised.
His parents had been in a cold war for years. As far back as he could remember, their anniversary passed like any other day—no fuss.
So why was Dad bringing it up so solemnly now? A bad premonition stirred in Yang Haoran.
