The moment her fingers threaded through his hair, Ye Fei felt the full weight of her mother-love crash over him—pure, unconditional, and so damned arousing that his pulse spiked. He lifted his head anyway, playing dumb. "Mom? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, baby." She smiled as if he were six months old again. "I just remembered—when you were tiny, you used to nurse like this every day."

"Really?" His eyes lit up. "So I was already a good boy who knew how to make Mommy feel good?"

Liu Yiru gave a half-laugh, half-groan. "Silly, you weren't 'making me feel good'—you were hungry."

"Same difference," he grinned. "I sucked you then, and I'm sucking you now. Why'd you make me stop when I grew up?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because you grew up—and Mom doesn't have milk anymore."

"Bet I can find some if I try hard enough." He dipped back down, sealing his lips around the stiff little nub and pulling slow and steady, cheeks hollowing like he was latched to a faucet.

Truth was, Liu Yiru was still lactating. Their four baby girls weren't even a year old yet; Ye Fei had only sealed that memory along with her martial-arts skills.

One tug of real milk and her sharp mind would start connecting dots. He told himself he'd wait—unlock the reflex after he'd fully seduced her. Picture it: nursing at her breast while his cock pumps her full, husband and son in one sweaty package. The fantasy almost blew the top off his skull.

Mother and son were now thinking in tandem. Without Xuan Yin Art, she couldn't read his thoughts, but her body hummed the same dirty tune: God, I'm falling so fast.

The suction on her nipple sent sparks straight to her clit. She tried to remind herself this was maternal—sweet, harmless—but the sparks kept catching fire.

Ye Fei couldn't take another second. He slid sideways, stretching out beside her instead of on top. One hand kept kneading the breast he'd just abandoned; the other guided her palm to the steel pipe straining against his briefs. He spoke around her nipple, voice muffled. "Mom, it's so hard it hurts. Help me, please."

Perfect excuse, she thought—stop him before I lose my mind. She wrapped hesitant fingers around the burning shaft, stroking awkwardly. "Sweetheart, I can't get any leverage like this. Lie back and let Mom take care of you properly."

"But if I lie back, I won't be able to reach your breasts," Ye Fei protested at once. "How will you feel good then?"

His "filial piety" warmed Liu Yiru's heart—and stabbed her with guilt. In her eyes, he knew nothing; he was only chasing whatever felt nice for both of them, while she, the mother, was the one harboring crooked thoughts.

She gave him a gentle smile. "Sweetheart, Mom doesn't mind. As long as you're comfortable, that's enough."

"No way!" Ye Fei blurted, eyes suddenly sparkling. "Mom, I've got an idea—something that'll make both of us feel good."

"What idea?" she asked casually.

He was practically glowing. "You stroking my cock feels good for me, and me playing with your breasts feels good for you. So why don't I just rub my cock between your breasts? Then we both get pleasure at the same time!"

Rub cock between breasts? Liu Yiru blinked. She'd never done it, but in an information-saturated era, she knew what "titty-fucking" was. Before, the notion disgusted her—penises were already gross, and putting one on her chest sounded worse. But the second the imaginary man became her son, disgust vanished—replaced by a flutter of anticipation.

This time, Ye Fei didn't wait for permission. While she was still dazed, he knelt beside her, gripped his rigid shaft, and pressed it to her breast. First, he dragged the swollen crown across the silky skin, then flicked it over her already-stiff nipple.

"Oh…" Liu Yiru moaned as the bulbous head nudged her sensitive bud. The contact felt even stronger than when he'd sucked her.

It made sense: an erect cock is packed with specialized erectile tissue; the engorged surface gives women a unique friction no toy can replicate—especially when that friction is rubbing directly on her nipple instead of inside her pussy.

Seeing her reaction, Ye Fei grew bolder. He centered his glans on her tiny nipple and pushed down, embedding both nipple and cock-head in the soft breast-flesh, then lifted off so the nipple popped free again.

By the time she came back to her senses, stopping him was impossible—and it did feel good. I've already stroked him, he's already fondled me, she rationalized. What's one more step?

Physically, it wasn't earth-shattering; psychologically, it was gasoline on a bonfire.

After a few minutes, he straddled her stomach, lay his cock in the deep valley between her mounds, and laughed excitedly. "Mom, look! Two big steamed buns hugging a fried breadstick!"

Liu Yiru glanced down: his purple-red shaft wedged between snow-white breasts—obscenely pretty, weirdly harmonious. She smacked the rigid pole lightly. "Fried breadstick? What kind of breadstick is this color and this hard? Looks more like a giant sausage to me."

"So Mom thinks it's a sausage? No wonder you like 'eating' it so much." He grinned. "And your buns really are huge and fragrant. I wanna take a big bite out of them."

She understood the impulse—sometimes she wanted to bite him; that's how strong desire got. Still, she pretended to scold. "Try it and I'll turn your sausage into soft dough and bite it in half."

"Then go ahead, Mom—do your worst." Ye Fei's grin was pure sin.

Liu Yiru let out a playful huff. "Watch me." She cupped her heavy breasts, pressed them tight around his shaft, and started a slow, deliberate up-and-down glide.

"God, Mom… that's incredible… does it feel good for you too?" Each word came out strangled. He couldn't hold still—hips pumping, driving his cock through the soft tunnel she'd made for him, the head peeking out and disappearing with every stroke.

Most women's sensitivity is concentrated in the nipples, and Liu Yiru was no exception. The friction along her cleavage wasn't going to push her over the edge—but that wasn't the point. The real high came from knowing whose cock was sliding between her breasts: her son's, thick and hot and absolutely forbidden. The taboo alone soaked her panties.

She leaned forward, opened her mouth, and timed it so the crown of his cock slipped between her lips on every up-thrust, giving it a quick, wet kiss.

The sight—his prim, angelic mother sucking the tip each time he surged forward—sent Ye Fei into orbit. He understood now: her mind was two years behind, but her body remembered every filthy thing he'd taught it. Pure heart, porn-star body—an aphrodisiac stronger than any aphrodisiac.

"Mom, I'm close—so close!" His thighs trembled, abs locking.

Liu Yiru doubled the speed of her breast-stroke, mouth wide, ready to swallow whatever he gave her.

At the last possible second he yanked free, scrambled up her body, and straddled her chest. Fist flying over his slick shaft, he roared, "Here it comes, Mom—take it!"

The first scalding jet splashed across her cheekbone, the second striped her parted lips, the third painted her chin. Pulse after pulse of thick, white cum decorated his mother's famous face while she knelt beneath him, mouth open in stunned, hungry shock.