I instinctively wanted to avert my eyes; after all, she is Yang Yaxue’s mother, and looking at her body would certainly make me feel guilty.
I shouldn’t be peeping, let alone harboring any filthy thoughts.
But the key issue is, when such a tempting woman is disrobing right in front of you, can you really resist looking?
Eventually, I couldn’t restrain myself, and slowly turned towards her.
By that time, Aunt Liu had already slid her form-fitting skirt down to her knees, her stockings pulled down, leaving only a pair of black lace-trimmed panties.
Her figure was the full-bodied, large-boned type— even the size of her panties was a size larger than that of an average woman.
Yet that bulging middle area was just as mysterious, just as seductive.
I clearly saw that the ravine in the center was already damp with dew, the perfect curves completely revealed.
I swallowed hard, my eyes nearly bulging out.
This is the advantage of feigning blindness; otherwise, how could I witness such a beautiful scene?
Although I didn’t see everything, just this glimpse allowed me to imagine that Yang Yaxue’s mother’s mysterious Holy Land must be very perfect in shape, just like her body—full and tender.
And it seemed that the hair at that location was quite dense; I could see quite a bit squeezing out from the edges of her panties.
The more abundant the hair at that spot, the stronger the need seemed to be. It looked like Yang Yaxue’s mother was the type with substantial needs as well.
But Yang Yaxue’s father was still in their hometown. After such a long time without meeting, could she be feeling lonely?
At that moment, I was completely bewitched, my gaze fixed on that central area, unable to glance away, as if held by an invisible force.
Not just that area, but also those long, white legs, and that exaggeratedly perky rear—truly too tempting.
Now I understood whom Yang Yaxue inherited her figure and beauty from; she was the spitting image of her mother.
The only difference was that Yang Yaxue was younger, and Aunt Liu was more mature.
There I was, brazenly watching, unable to extricate myself from the immersion.
Because of her unique identity, it added to the sense of achievement in my voyeurism, and the psychological thrill, sending shivers down my spine, breathing turning rapid with excitement.
However, what I never imagined was that she would then spread her legs, pulling down her panties a bit, reaching out with a tissue and starting to gently wipe that spot.
It seemed her finger touched a particularly sensitive part, as I saw her brows slightly furrow and a soul-stirring moan escape her, her body trembling.
It was evident that she was very sensitive; she must not have been with a man for quite some time.
They say women in their thirties are like wolves, forties like tigers, and by fifty, even if sitting on the ground, they could suck up the soil.
At a little over forty, Aunt Liu was in the prime of wolf-like, tiger-like desire.
Not having been with a man for so long, it’d be strange if her body wasn’t sensitive.
Watching the liquid on the tissue, one could imagine how comfortable she felt from my previous touch—she must have been overwhelmed.
No wonder she kept making those satisfying noises; it turned out she was moved.
I gulped hard, my heart nearly leaping out of my throat.
It’s hard to imagine that I could see such a private part of Yang Yaxue’s mother.
Perhaps because she was so wet, after wiping with one tissue, she pulled out another and kept wiping.
Maybe she thought I couldn’t see, so she unabashedly wiped her intimate part right in front of me, not hiding at all.
"Um... Xiao Xu, do you have any tissues on you? Aunt Liu needs to wipe something."
At that moment, having used up her last tissue, she lifted her head and said this.