When Betty firmly grasped Michael’s penis and lifted it above the water, the usually oblivious Michael finally showed a flicker of response.
His head shook slightly, his eyes shifting with a mix of memories, confusion, and a touch of sadness.
Perhaps the stimulation of his penis reminded Michael of something, especially since his current condition was all because of Betty, and naturally, that involved sex.
Perhaps sex was the most direct trigger for Michael.
Betty, of course, noticed Michael’s reaction as his body shivered with her touch.
Her face showed a mix of confusion and excitement, suggesting that Michael was not beyond help.
Psychologists and psychiatric departments could treat Michael’s condition, but his illness was intricately linked to his forbidden relationship with Betty.
Consulting another psychologist or doctor would risk exposing their private affair, something Betty could not allow.
Not just for her sake, but for Michael’s as well.
Of course, seeking hospital treatment was a last resort; initially, Betty would take on the role of his therapist.
After gripping Michael’s penis, Betty pulled back the foreskin, revealing smegma that was black and white, sticky and dirty, accumulated under the foreskin and around the coronal sulcus.
Seeing this, Betty could only imagine how Michael had been living these past days, her eyes filling with even more pity.
She began to clean his penis, knowing well that just like a woman’s vagina, a man’s penis must be kept clean to prevent bacterial infections.
Initially embarrassed, Betty soon became more comfortable with the task, given their past intimacy and her professional mindset.
Unbeknownst to Betty, as she cleaned and wiped, Michael’s penis began to erect slowly.
This was a normal physiological response; any man would find it hard not to respond when his penis was being washed and rubbed by a woman, especially since Michael had abstained for a whole week.
Once the floodgates of puberty were opened, sexual desire only grew stronger.
Betty noticed the erection and her cheeks flushed with a renewed sense of embarrassment, her eyes flickering with memories.
From my vantage point on the surveillance, I watched Betty wash Michael’s genitals.
It was clear to me, perhaps not to Betty, that she was taking unusually long with the task.
Maybe, subconsciously, she wanted to linger on his manhood, losing track of time, a normal reaction from her inner desires.
After cleaning Michael’s penis, Betty prepared to wash his scrotum, where dirt easily hides in the folds of the skin.
The already erect penis made it difficult for Betty to access the scrotum, forcing her to use both hands; one to steady the penis and the other to gently wipe the scrotum.
Michael’s scrotum was sparsely covered with black hair, prompting Betty to handle it very carefully, as if afraid of causing him pain.
Betty was washing Michael’s most private areas with a mix of complex emotions and nervousness, completely oblivious to Michael’s expression.
At that moment, Michael’s penis, freshly scrubbed by Betty, was fully erect, its 8-inch length and egg-sized head glistening red.
The slit at the top of the head was slightly parted, oozing a thin stream of viscous fluid, though it went unnoticed by Betty, masked by the foam and water.
However, Michael’s penis throbbed in Betty’s hand, a fact she couldn’t ignore.
Her left hand, gripping Michael’s shaft, felt its twitching movements.
She wanted to let go but couldn’t stabilize it, so she just clenched tighter, her cheeks flushing and her breathing quickening as she hastened the washing of Michael’s scrotum.
Michael had abstained for a week, and so had Betty.
Throughout that week, Betty’s concerns for Michael had made her forget everything else, including her own desires.
Now that Michael was safe, and with the intimate and ambiguous nature of their current interaction, Betty couldn’t help but feel flustered and confused.
As Betty was finishing up with the washing, Michael’s body suddenly reacted violently.
His body shook tremendously, causing ripples and foam to surge in the water.
Just as Betty was about to breathe a sigh of relief, she noticed this and turned to look at Michael.
Michael, who had been unresponsive before, now had his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes tightly shut, and his mouth open, emitting a raspy, weak moan as if he was enduring some pain.
"Michael, what’s wrong? Ah... oh..." Seeing Michael like this, Betty initially thought he was in great pain.
Could it be that Michael had been injured these past few days without her knowledge?
This made Betty anxiously ask.
Betty still maintained her position of washing Michael’s genitals, but she turned her head towards Michael’s face.
Originally, she had been focused on scrubbing his scrotum, so her face had been aligned with Michael’s scrotum, positioned behind his penis, with her left hand still gripping it.
As she turned to look at Michael’s face and spoke, Betty’s face involuntarily turned to her left, aligning with her left hand and Michael’s erect position.
Before Betty could finish her sentence, a large amount of thick, white semen erupted from the slit at the top of the penis she was holding in her left hand.
This first burst, accumulated from a week of abstinence, was substantial and forceful, shooting high into the air.
Unintentionally, Betty had positioned Michael’s penis towards her face to facilitate her right hand’s washing, and the first burst of semen hit her face squarely.
Due to her nervousness and the fact that she was mid-sentence, about a third of it went into her mouth, with the rest splattering across her chin, nose, eyes, and hair.
This sudden event turned Michael’s unfinished words into a gasp of surprise.
Before Betty could react, a second burst followed swiftly.
Caught off guard, Betty instinctively tried to twist the penis away from her face but in her haste, she turned it in the wrong direction.
Instead of directing it away, she accidentally aimed it towards herself, resulting in the second burst hitting her neck and nightgown, covering her chest in sticky semen.
"Ah..." Betty exclaimed in shock, only then fully realizing what was happening.
She quickly redirected the penis towards the wall across from the bathtub.
"Plop, plop..." Michael continued to ejaculate, totaling about 7 or 8 bursts before it ceased, the last few dribbles mixing with the bathwater and foam.
After the ordeal, Betty quickly released Michael’s penis and scrambled to her feet.
At this moment, Betty’s appearance was a sight to behold—her face, hair, neck, and the front of her ample chest were drenched in semen from head to waist.
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Moreover, Betty stood with her mouth open, hesitant to close it because it still contained a portion of the semen that had accidentally entered her mouth during the initial burst.
Standing there, Betty seemed dazed, the taste of the salty, sticky semen in her mouth adding to the surrealness of the moment.