His rude, flippant words made both Derek and me turn our heads at once.
Seeing us look at him, Nick’s sharply defined, dark, handsome face broke into a smile as radiant as morning sunlight.
Every time I recall that harmless grin, back then I had no idea what would come later.
I took his careless words as a mindless arrow shot off without thinking, or simply as genuine kindness.
His nearly two‑meter‑tall body, his dark face under a simple white T‑shirt that still hinted at strong muscles, paired with faded ripped jeans, radiated an irrepressible youthful energy.
His black face, with its trace of scholarly elegance, bore that deeply practiced, contagiously pure smile like a warm spring sun, gentle and beautiful, perfectly showcasing his outwardly sunny personality.
Back then, neither I nor Derek knew how lewd and depraved the face behind that smile truly was.
“Nick, don’t talk nonsense.” “Derek, Nicole, sorry, this is my younger brother, Nick.
Don’t mind him.
He’s lived in the States too long.
The way he speaks, acts, and even thinks can be a bit different from us Chinese.” Seeing how bad Derek’s expression had become, Diana quickly spoke up to smooth things over for Nick’s inappropriate behavior.
I looked at Nick, this black lapdog who wanted to lick every pretty girl he saw, with utter disdain.
He usually spoke and acted quite properly, but he was a total blockhead at distinguishing between Chinese and Western etiquette, often mixing them up and giving the whole family headaches.
Seeing my wife speak up, I naturally couldn’t undermine her.
I grabbed Derek’s shoulder and forced a smile.
“Derek, come on, I’ll take you inside.
Don’t be mad.
Our Nick is just a black guy; his thinking is more simple and straightforward.
I’ll make sure he pours you a drink and apologizes later.” As I pulled Derek along to help that damned black man out of trouble, that same man, relying on those cheesy lines he’d picked up online, had already managed to add Derek’s wife on WeChat.
With Derek and his wife’s status and the Zhao family behind them, their arrival instantly boosted my father‑in‑law’s birthday banquet.
Later, big names from the city and the province either sent congratulatory messages or gifts.
“Aunt Lydia!” My mother, Lydia Yue, as the highest‑ranking guest at the event, chose the perfect moment.
She arrived just a few minutes before the banquet started, wearing a pair of somewhat old‑fashioned black women’s square‑toed leather shoes, stepping out of the elevator at the front of the hall.
Before I could greet her, Nick, leaving Diana behind, rushed eagerly toward my mother.
With his long legs, he reached her in just a few strides.
Both Diana and I frowned slightly.
I disliked his overly enthusiastic behavior toward my mother and my wife.
On Diana’s cold, beautiful oval face, her brows furrowed slightly, as if she were jealous of my mother.
That day, I rushed up to greet my mother and ignored my wife’s subtle expressions.
It was only much later that I realized that men and women are the same they don’t resent having too little, they resent unfairness.
“Aunt Lydia, what did you eat, an immortal pill?” “You look so gorgeous today.
If you wore the heels I gave you, you’d look even more beautiful!” Nick looked at my mother’s almost unchanging, old‑fashioned administrative suit get‑up.
His black face wore a smile full of enthusiasm, yet with a hidden hint of desire.
That day, in order to attend my father‑in‑law’s birthday banquet, my elegant, beautiful mother had put on light makeup.
Her red lips curved upward, and her peach‑blossom eyes narrowed slightly at Nick.
“You smooth talker, disgusting and cheesy, shouting like that in public!” Even clad in that old‑fashioned administrative suit, my mother’s alluring, sexy body and natural, breathtaking charms could not be concealed.
Her light gray women’s administrative suit jacket and the white blouse inside were both lifted by her towering breasts, creating a staggering series of curves.
It had once generated all kinds of rumors behind her back that she was some big shot’s mistress, etc.
But after she became the Party secretary for political and legal affairs in Hanzhong, those malicious rumors never dared to surface again.
Her fitted matching trousers outlined both her long legs.
Even though nothing was actually visible, the sexy allure in the way those pant legs moved stirred the imagination.
With every step, the slightly looser fabric around her calves swayed gently.
Whether it was her seductive, mature body or her dignified aura or both my mother drew countless eyes.
Some bold men widened their eyes, as if they wanted to see through her clothes.
Following the slender line of her black‑stockinged calves downward, the elegant curve ended in a pair of neatly made square‑toed shoes, each hiding a pair of refined black‑stockinged feet.
I didn’t know if she was wearing regular short stockings or some especially lewd “crotchless” style, and the absurdity of the idea made me chuckle at myself.
My mother, in crotchless stockings?
My mother and my wife stood together, two stunning beauties: one dignified and majestic, the other cool and slender.
Four sexy legs moved gracefully, their heels tapping out a heart‑teasing rhythm on the floor, making my blood run a bit hot.
My mother, at 1.73 meters, was slightly shorter than my wife, but no one seeing her refined face and sizzling figure could help but marvel at the craftsmanship of the gods.
Compared to my leg‑goddess wife, my mother’s legs, though not a bit shorter both of them had legs over a meter long were different in their own way.
My wife’s legs were slender and shapely; my mother’s, hidden inside her fitted trousers, were thick with mature meat while still perfectly proportioned.
At this point, another image forced its way into my mind.
I had once seen, outside my mother’s bedroom, my mother and Diana together using those deadly legs two on top of each other to clamp a long, thick black donkey cock in their knee hollows, passionately pleasing the owner of that massive shaft with a footjob.