Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 241 Betty seemed to forget about time Part2 R18

Had he finished? Was it over, or was it not?

Witnessing Michael and Betty so tightly intertwined, leaving no space between them, I, as a man, knew what this meant.

But I was reluctant to believe that Betty had truly allowed Michael to finish inside her.

Michael’s scrotum contracted several times, and about half a minute later, he was done.

Throughout this process, Betty’s body shook consistently—each contraction of Michael’s scrotum matched by a tremor in her body.

With every contraction of Michael’s scrotum, another shot of semen was propelled towards Betty’s womb, the force causing her body to shudder uncontrollably.

The synchronization between Betty’s trembling body and Michael’s contracting scrotum was seamless.

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Before Michael climaxed, I noticed Betty’s bodily reactions.

Though she was lost in the throes of their coupling, her body swaying with each of Michael’s thrusts, a sliver of her consciousness remained.

She could feel the impending climax, marked by the sudden increase in the pace and intensity of Michael’s movements, and his heavier breathing—signs all too familiar to any man, myself included.

Betty had always been keenly aware of these signs during our own intimate moments, and it was no different with Michael.

Yet, why... Even before Michael climaxed, Betty could have shaken her head, perhaps not speaking, but at least signaling her reluctance, or maybe uttering a few disjointed words of refusal.

That would have given me something to cling to, some reason to forgive her: a brief lapse in judgment amidst overwhelming desire.

But Betty offered no such excuses, seemingly unfazed by Michael’s climax inside her.

Perhaps, the only explanation was that a pill from some drawer in the house awaited her—a contraceptive she would soon consume.

After Michael had finished, he was the first to recover, his physical stamina notable ever since I learned of his regular workouts.

The intensity of his earlier movements seemed effortless for him, and though he was breathing heavily, he quickly regained his composure.

At that moment, Betty was flushed, her body drenched in sweat as if she had just taken a bath, her hair sticking to her face.

As Michael ceased, so did her trembling.

She kept her eyes closed, unwilling to emerge from the afterglow of her climax.

Michael didn’t disturb her, still holding her legs on his shoulders, his hands gently caressing her legs, his penis still firmly inside her.

When Betty and I were intimate, my penis would soften and slip out immediately after climax, but Michael’s remained in place, perhaps due to its length or maybe... Michael hadn’t softened yet...

After a while, Betty still hadn’t reacted, and Michael glanced at the clock on the wall—it was nearly 5:13 AM.

Time seemed irrelevant to them now; being late was inconsequential.

With that thought, Michael steadied Betty’s legs on his shoulders, shifting them slightly for a firmer grip.

"Squish, squish, squish, squish..." Michael began moving again, not even two minutes after his climax.

His penis, far from soft, appeared just as robust, coated with a milky, sticky fluid.

Michael was ready for another round.

Seeing this, I didn’t know what to feel anymore—numb, heartbroken, or simply despairing.

"Ah..." Suddenly, Michael’s voice came through the headset, filled with shock.

My eyes were glued to the screen.

Betty had reacted instantly to Michael’s movements.

She lifted one leg that was draped over Michael’s shoulder and, with a swift kick, pushed him back several steps, nearly causing him to fall.

"Pop..." As Betty pushed Michael away, his penis was pulled out of her vagina, making a sound like a bottle being uncorked.

It was too sudden, too quick.

Michael’s penis sprang from Betty’s vagina, swinging up and down, flinging droplets of semen into the air.

At that moment of separation, I saw Betty’s vagina remained open, a round gaping hole that didn’t close immediately, revealing the pink inner walls.

The force of Michael’s penis being pulled out caused Betty’s body to heave dramatically.

The force of the withdrawal was significant, and once free, her vagina spurted out a fountain of semen.

The thick, white fluid flowed from her, past her pubic hair and down her thighs, dripping onto the couch.

After kicking Michael away, Betty immediately turned to look at the wall clock, suddenly remembering the time, though it seemed far too late.

A flash of panic and fear crossed her face as she saw the time.

She scrambled to her feet, nearly falling due to the weakness from their intense session.

She steadied herself, picked up her panties, but realized more semen was still leaking from her.

It had already run down her inner thighs, making it impossible to put her panties on.

In a panic, she ran to the bathroom, seemingly to take a shower, but after a glance at the clock, she quickly wiped herself with tissues, stuffed some into her vagina, and pulled her panties up.

Michael seemed stunned by Betty’s kick, standing motionless, his penis slowly softening.

"I’ll drive you..." Michael finally spoke as Betty dressed to leave.

He sensed her anger but didn’t find it odd.

His potent sexual performance had shattered her plans to get home on time, and he was ready to face her wrath, knowing some sacrifices were necessary.

"No need..." Betty’s voice was cold, not turning back.

She was clearly angry, but there was no time for that now.

She needed to get home as soon as possible; the later it got, the worse things would be.

Betty opened the door and hurried out, while Michael sat dejectedly on the couch, naked, in the spot where they had been intimate.

He looked down at his genitals, still coated with their fluids.

I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Betty got home, and by then, I guess I had passed out.

I didn’t know when she arrived, but judging by the time, it must have been around 6:30 AM, almost an hour later than when I usually get home.

If I hadn’t been unconscious, I might have noticed something was off, at least caught the scent on her unless she had sprayed perfume to mask it on her way back.

My unconsciousness might have been a divine intervention, helping Betty avoid a disaster.

The video was over, and I had found the answers I was looking for.

My heart felt numb, having anticipated this possibility, though I was reluctant to believe it.

It seemed I needed more time to prove something to myself.

The video on my computer was still playing, now at double speed.

Just as I was about to turn it off, Michael’s phone rang.

He had seemed listless, but a glance at his phone suddenly brightened his eyes.

It had been about 50 minutes since Betty left, probably she was home by now.

Why did Michael react so strongly to the phone?

Was it Betty calling?