Hidden Desires - Family Secrets

Chapter 119 With Michael nearly losing himself completely Part3 R18

I was jolted awake by my own laughter, eyes snapping open as the early dawn light filtered through the window.

In my dream, I had been laughing heartily, never imagining that I would actually laugh out loud, loud enough to wake myself up.

I furrowed my brow, my head heavy and foggy, as I tried to recall the scenes from my dream, my heart tightening with each fleeting image.

Could the scenes from my sleep be a premonition of things to come? Was this a warning from my subconscious?

Glancing at my watch, I realized I had slept for over ten hours; it was already the next day.

The laptop was still on, its screen frozen on the moment Michael and Betty were intimately connected.

Reflecting on my dream and seeing the image of Michael and Betty together filled me with dread.

Was I really supposed to give up on Betty and let this happen?

No, I couldn't jump to conclusions without knowing if this was just a one-time lapse.

I intended to fast-forward through the footage, but feared missing crucial details.

My finger hovered over the mouse, lacking the courage to click; eventually, I withdrew my hand.

I got out of bed and started to wash up, staring at my reflection in the mirror—unshaven and disheveled, my eyes red and my spirit low.

Exiting the bathroom, my stomach kept reminding me—I was hungry, but I had no appetite.

My hand returned to the mouse, a thought nagging at me: if I watched all the footage from before I came home, would the mental strain and physical exhaustion be the death of me in this hotel bed?

If I were to die suddenly, perhaps that would be for the best, as fate would have made the choice for me, sparing me further heartache.

I took a deep breath and clicked the mouse, feeling as though I had made a monumental decision.

With that click, the video that had been paused all night resumed playing... The scene was still the same, the only difference being Betty's body still trembling.

Betty's climax lasted for a minute, and after it passed, she exhaled a fragrant breath, her head tilting back before righting itself, her eyes still closed, her expression serene and beautiful.

After her climax, Betty seemed weakened, and I noticed Michael's arms flex slightly, likely increasing his support for her.

"Oh..." As the afterglow of her climax faded, Betty's lips parted again, and she began to moan.

After enjoying the warmth and tightness of Betty's response, Michael was ready to move on to the next phase, to experience the sensation of friction.

Michael slowly withdrew his hips, and as he did, his thick penis gradually emerged from Betty's vagina.

As their hips separated, Michael's penis, wrapped with veins, was fully exposed to the air.

The two seemed like conjoined twins at that moment, intertwined through their connection, maintaining synchronized breathing and movements through their intimate link.

As Michael's penis slowly pulled out, both instinctively looked down at their joined bodies, watching his shaft, wet with their fluids, slowly emerge.

At that moment, Michael's penis seemed like a syringe, drawing out the love juices from Betty's vagina.

As his shaft withdrew, the fluids flowed down onto Michael's hairy scrotum, eventually dripping onto the floor between their feet.

As Michael stood erect, his penis was halfway withdrawn from Betty, having been fully sheathed moments before as he thrust forward.

Both remained standing, Michael's penis stretched between them, one end connected to his pelvis, the other to Betty's pubic area, covered in neatly trimmed hair.

They stood there, connected, silently acknowledging the link between them.

After a moment, they simultaneously lifted their heads, eyes meeting.

Despite their physical union, a hint of shyness lingered in their eyes, prompting them to quickly look away and lower their heads again, their movements perfectly synchronized without delay.

After a brief silence, Michael leaned forward again, his exposed shaft slowly sliding back into Betty's warmth, leaving only his testicles and pubic hair visible outside.

His entire length was enveloped by Betty's vagina, hidden away as he pushed forward.

Betty parted her lips, bearing the intensity silently, her expression betraying the thrill and pleasure coursing through her.

If it were me instead of Michael, Betty might have already been moaning freely and seeking more.

Their hips met again, and after a pause, Michael withdrew his penis, this time a bit faster than before.

He paused briefly then slowly re-entered her, increasing his pace slightly from before.

Withdraw, enter, withdraw, enter... Michael began to repeat this motion, gradually increasing his speed.

As the frequency of his movements reached a certain rhythm, it sounded like—

"Slap, slap, slap..."

"Ah, ah, ah..."

As Michael's pace became continuous, Betty could no longer contain the sensory overload and began to moan openly.

Betty's moans grew louder with Michael's increasing speed and quieter as he slowed.

When Michael's thrusts became rapid and continuous, Betty's moans intensified, and they both lifted their heads again, facing each other, eyes half-closed, Michael breathing heavily, Betty moaning.

Betty stood on one leg, her body moving up and down with Michael's thrusts.

Each time Michael entered, Betty's sole foot on the ground would tiptoe; each withdrawal saw her foot returning to the floor.

With each of Michael's thrusts, Betty's toes curled and uncurled, while her lifted leg swung back and forth.

"Slap, slap, slap..." Michael expertly continued in this position, and I watched them lost in passion, knowing that their minds were consumed with desire, all else forgotten.

Even if they thought of me, it would only affect their mood, not stop their lovemaking unless I appeared right then.

At this moment, Michael controlled the lovemaking, and Betty passively enjoyed it.

Michael continuously thrust forward, their hips colliding repeatedly, his penis moving in and out of Betty's vagina.

Each withdrawal brought out a surge of fluids, which didn't have time to drip as their colliding hips splashed it around—the floor, their abdomens, their thighs were all splattered with their mingled fluids.

Their pubic hair was now damp, and with each collision and separation of their hips, their pubic hairs rubbed and struck against each other, turning the fluids into a white, sticky substance, making a squelching sound with each contact.