How Should I Train My Mother? Part 3
Her legs splayed wide in an utterly unvirtuous display, the beastly hand that had slithered into her skirt caressed her pussy mound—glistening with slick arousal, twitching visibly—in the starkest detail.
"Slurrrp...!"
"Hyaahhh??!!"
I dragged the tip of my tongue across her entire earlobe, and Mom shuddered in my arms with a frail, eerie moan, as if her mind were being turned inside out. Seeing such a proud, chaste woman instantly reduced to a woman's face was thrilling.
Not even having masturbated, I could no longer hold back my ejaculation. I thrust my rigid cock between the cleft of her ass and nipped her plump earlobe with my teeth.
"Aaah...!!!!!"
Her eyes—unfocused, brimming with tears—snapped wide in the mirror's reflection, lids nearly tearing. Unable to restrain myself at the sight of her disheveled state, I slipped a finger ever so slightly into the drenched mound of her pussy.
Plunge!
Her body jerked violently, like a door long sealed being forced open. Trapped in my embrace, her back stiffened like a drawn bow before she arched into climax.
"Haaahhh??!!"
Squirt! Squirt! Squirt!
As if exploding with long-forgotten sensations, Mom unleashed bizarre cries of ecstasy, her skirt's front soaking through with a flood of juices.
The room filled with the lewd scent of her arousal and the explosive sweetness of a woman's flesh. I couldn't hold out any longer and unleashed my semen into the crevice of her ass.
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Clinging to me, Mom thrashed wildly, as if trying to flee the unfamiliar waves of orgasm, bucking her hips desperately. Each time, fresh gushes of her juices squirted around the finger barely probing her mound.
I pulled the fleeing bitch tighter into my arms, wringing out every last drop of my lustful seed through my throbbing cock.
"Haaah..."
With a deflating, eerie moan, she collapsed into my chest. Her head lolled to the side, her disheveled, convulsing form reflected in the small mirror. The fluids we'd both expelled mingled on her skirt and my pants, seeping slowly onto the floor.
"Hoo..."
Exhaling the heat filling my chest, I savored the afterglow, pressing my still-hard cock firmly against her ass with twitching pulses.
The rhythmic contractions of her pussy mound gnawing at my fingertip like it was chewing it fascinated me. I held her close, catching my breath for a long while.
Schlop.
"Haaah...!"
As I withdrew my finger from her mound, a string of arousal trailed regretfully. Releasing her breast from my grip, it sprang back to its perfect, artistic curve as if nothing had happened.
Her head tilted aside, tears and drool trickling down her convulsing, disheveled face—it was breathtakingly beautiful. Horny as hell for her, I kissed her cheek before letting her go.
Gazing down at Mom slumped limply at my feet, I uttered a title I'd never once used to her face since arriving in this world.
"Mom."
The moment she heard it, her orgasm-shuddering body twitched as if struck by something alien. In the novel and even when playing the filial son, I'd always addressed her formally as Mother Jeong Hyang. But now, our bodies entwined and her sunk in the gentle afterglow of pleasure, I deliberately used "Mom."
"Mom."
I called her again, louder. Mother versus Mom. The filial Jeong Yun versus the trainer Jeong Yun.
"Uh, uh...?"
Whispering into her ear, soaked with my saliva and thick with confusion, I repeated "Mom" over and over. The respectful Mother from her steadfast, pillar-like filial son Jeong Yun. The Mom from the trainer Jeong Yun injecting sweet venom of pleasure. Same person, but worlds apart.
It would shove the filial son from her subconscious and carve me in his place.
"Mom. How'd it feel? Feels good to be a woman again after so long?"
"Ah, ah... ahh... ah..."
Like a newborn babe, she spilled only incoherent moans.
Inhaling the faint, fishy semen and lewd pussy scent wafting from her, I called again.
"Mom. You're mine. Got it? No one else's. Even panting in another man's arms, you're my Mom."
"Ah, ah... uh, M-M... Mom... M-Mooom..."
"That's right. Good girl, my Mom."
Swallowed by the Monghwancho and waves of climax, she parroted my words like she was being brainwashed. For Jeong Hyang, this faded, worn "Mom"—unheard who-knows-when—was now soaked and defiled in sticky lust.
"Mom. Never forget. This moment, this feeling. The arms of the man who calls you Mom—never forget."
Each utterance drove a wedge into her subconscious, anchoring the seed of pleasure to summon this now.
Time lost meaning, but it was time to clean up. I ordered her to strip and wipe the fluids from her body with her clothes.
"Uh, uh... y-yes... strip... and wipe my body, you say..."
Unable to stand from the climax, she rose slowly like inputting a command, shedding her garments. Sweat-, juice-, saliva-, and semen-stained clothes dropped one by one, revealing the ripened widow's naked form like a masterpiece.
"..."
Despite just cumming, my cock throbbed insistently, screaming to plunge inside. But I knew better now. No matter how long we'd lost track of time, it had to stop.
Impatient with her sluggishness, I stripped too and wiped her soiled body first.
"Mom. Change clothes and sit."
Due to poverty, her wardrobe was all the same colors and styles. Once changed, no one would notice.
The bodily unease can't be helped—I'll just observe that...
With Monghwancho's effects unknown in detail, I had no choice but to test step by step.
I watched her change like a newborn fawn, legs trembling. Meanwhile, I mopped the floor fluids and stuffed our soiled clothes into the laundry pile—for tomorrow, as night was deep. Like last night, handling it secretly would leave her clueless.
"Need some ventilation."
I flung open the door, airing out the Monghwancho smoke and the decadent mingled scents of man and woman entwined.
Mom sat at the table as before inhaling the herb, seemingly unchanged—but pleasure's poison had surely seeped into body and mind. Now, to watch the results.
"Mother. Are you alright?"
Switching to the formal Mother, I called her several times. No reaction for a while; as I pondered what to do, she stirred, head slightly bowed.
"Mm..."
Like waking from sleep, she rasped hoarsely, lifting her head and staring blankly, disoriented.
"Mother?"
"Mm...? Ah, wh-what is it? Did your mother doze off?"
She flushed, embarrassed, as if she'd nodded off sitting up.
"No, Mother. You ate the rice cakes and inhaled the soothing incense for body and mind. Did you fall asleep?"
"Hm? Ah, no. I felt so hazy... yes, must've dozed sitting up, as I thought. No matter."
A lingering unease in her memory, but no deep suspicion.
Hm... catching a cold? Morning too—body feels so languid.
Jeong Hyang sensed her oddly feverish body and full-body ache like muscle soreness from unaccustomed exertion—refreshing yet painful. Waking that morning, she'd been sweaty and sticky too, feeling off.
Season changing—must be careful.
She chalked it up lightly to the summer-to-autumn shift.
Is it working?
I'd watched closely since the Monghwancho to check memory and lingering sensations. As she rose to clear the table, her body—still unwell from climax's afterglow—reeled.
"Ah!"
Her startled cry cut the room. Watching intently to confirm if she remembered my depravity, I reacted fast, catching her as she toppled with the tray.
Crash!
The tray hit the floor with a thud, but we ignored it.
"Ah..."
Startled in my arms as we tumbled, she scrambled up, face slightly flushed—adorably so.
"Mother. Are you alright?"
"Ah, y-yes... Th-thank you. My legs just gave out. No idea why, but they wouldn't hold."
So flustered, she repeated the excuse twice.
"You must be exhausted. Rest. I'll clear the table."
Nothing broken, I hauled the rolling tray to the kitchen. I felt her gaze on my back, but who cared.
Perfect! Mom remembers nothing!
Monghwancho's effect was proven flawless. Hiding my sly grin, I resumed filial son mode and returned to the room where Mom waited.