FM-V2-18

Chapter 18 Fallen Mother Volume Two: Continuation 

In the bathroom, the sound of heavy breathing continued. 

Mom leaned against the wall, her tall, voluptuous body slightly bent forward. Her two large, full breasts were beaded with sweat, the droplets glistening; her snowy skin was tinged with a rosy flush, giving off an indescribable sensuality. 

Old Jiao, that poor, short, ugly man, was sprawled across Mom’s fragrant back, panting as well. He had just used all his strength to thrust, and after fighting with someone downstairs earlier plus his age he was now clearly exhausted, his stamina waning. 

Mom didn’t push Old Jiao off, letting him rest on her. 

Suddenly, Mom’s elegant brows furrowed, as if she felt something. 

Her left hand reached back and grabbed Old Jiao’s thing. Watching the surveillance screen, I leaned in and saw that Old Jiao’s member had hardened again stiff, dark, thick, the head red and hot, still exuding a fierce energy. 

“Heh, girl, look at this… I can’t help it, it just won’t listen to reason,” Old Jiao said, feigning innocence. 

Mom glanced back at him, a bit helpless, and squeezed slightly, making Old Jiao’s mouth open in pain. 

But unexpectedly, Old Jiao’s hand suddenly snaked around Mom’s slender waist, reaching under her belly. I couldn’t see what he did, but Mom’s brows furrowed again. 

“Take your hand away!” Mom said sternly. 

“Girl, so you can bully me, but I can’t bully you? That’s not fair,” Old Jiao replied with a laugh. 

“Anyway, just this once you can’t go again,” Mom said. 

“Huh?” Old Jiao was surprised. “But didn’t you say tonight I could do whatever I wanted?” 

Mom replied, “Too much is no good, another time.” 

She didn’t say it absolutely, so although Old Jiao was disappointed, he took comfort in knowing there would be another chance. 

But to his surprise, after Mom moved his hand away, she didn’t leave. Instead, she picked up the shower head, turned on the water, and sprayed Old Jiao. 

Old Jiao shivered, looking confused. 

Mom rinsed him off, then squeezed some shower gel into her palm and began rubbing it onto Old Jiao’s body. He didn’t move. 

She started with his upper body, soon covering it in foam, but his lower body remained untouched. 

Standing behind him, Mom’s hands were now covered in lather. She hesitated, seeming unsure where to put her hands. 

But after a moment, she crouched down and started washing Old Jiao’s lower body. 

She began with his thighs. 

His leg hair was thick, almost like a gorilla’s, but soon it was covered in rich, white foam, as Mom carefully washed every inch. 

When she reached his buttocks, her movements slowed. When her hands finally touched his rear, Old Jiao shivered, letting out a moan of pleasure. 

His face was full of excitement, like someone high, his legs spread in a squat. 

Crouched behind him, Mom’s beautiful, cold face was just a short distance from his butt. Even this was a striking image. 

Who would have thought that a noble city mayor would be washing a beggar-like old man like this? The contrast was staggering. 

But this was reality. The cold, noble mayor was attentive and gentle an experience countless men could only dream of, now enjoyed by an old man. 

At my computer, I wanted nothing more than to grab a knife and rush out. 

But would I dare? My heart was full of rage, but even more of fear fear of Old Jiao. 

Unless I could overcome that fear, nothing would change. 

But I also felt other things. 

I wasn’t Old Jiao’s match, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t do something else. 

Yes anger! That anger was enough to drive me to do many things.