"Ugh..." Betty hurried to the sink, retching into it as she expelled Michael’s semen from her mouth.
She felt as if she couldn’t get it all out, desperately grabbing a toothbrush and toothpaste to scrub her mouth clean, heedless of how her frantic movements smeared the semen all over her clothes.
Betty spent five minutes brushing and rinsing, almost scrubbing her gums raw in her fervor to cleanse her mouth.
Afterward, her brow was still furrowed, haunted by the lingering taste of semen, wondering if she had inadvertently swallowed some in her initial panic.
After brushing, Betty looked uncomfortably at her face in the mirror and then down at her clothes, now stained everywhere with semen.
She shook her head with a wry smile.
Glancing at Michael, who was resting with his eyes closed, her expression was complex.
Normally, she would have lashed out at Michael in anger, but this time she couldn’t vent her frustration.
Firstly, Michael hadn’t done it on purpose, and secondly, she recalled perhaps spending too long washing his genitals, with perhaps too much vigor and at an angle that inadvertently caused him to ejaculate.
Betty had to swallow her anger and frustration, unable to vent or even cry.
Previously, she had never even performed oral sex, let alone swallowed semen, because she found it dirty.
And now, by a bizarre twist of fate, she had ended up tasting Michael’s semen, a direct shot into her mouth.
It was all a series of coincidences—what could she blame but fate?
With a sigh and a small, frustrated stomp of her foot, Betty had to accept the situation.
Meanwhile, Michael, the unintentional cause of this mess, looked even more exhausted now, weakened by his body’s reaction.
Betty bit her lip as she looked at his innocent face, feeling helpless.
She wanted to change into a clean nightgown but noticed more semen on her arm, neck, and hair.
Standing in front of the mirror, she saw herself marked by semen and felt a sense of resignation.
Changing into a new nightgown would just dirty it again; the immediate solution was to take a shower, but the bathtub was currently occupied by Michael.
Betty pondered her options.
One was to finish bathing Michael, clean him up, and change his clothes before taking her turn in the shower.
However, this meant the semen would dry on her, possibly in her hair, and she risked dirtying Michael’s freshly cleaned body and clothes.
The second option was for Betty to shower first, then clean and bathe Michael afterward.
This would allow her to clean herself first, which was crucial for Betty, who couldn’t stand the thought of semen drying on her skin and clothes.
But this meant showering in the same bathroom, with only a showerhead available as the bathtub was occupied by Michael, and no curtain to provide privacy.
Faced with these choices, Betty looked at the resting Michael, her mind wrestling with the dilemma...
Betty paced back and forth, her nose twitching uncomfortably close to the scent of semen on her face and hair.
The smell of male hormones was all too familiar and unsettling.
She glanced one last time at Michael, who was still resting with his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.
With a sigh, Betty began to peel off her nightgown, revealing her body clad only in a bra and panties.
Her lingerie wasn’t a bikini, but on Betty, it was even more enticing.
The panties hugged her vulva and accentuated her shapely buttocks, while the bra barely contained the tips of her ample breasts, leaving most of her flesh exposed.
Under the support of the bra, her breasts looked fuller and more upright, the light from above casting a glow on her milky, tender skin, making her body appear almost translucent.
After hesitating, Betty tossed the nightgown into the washing machine, debating whether to keep it even after a thorough wash due to the contamination from Michael’s semen.
However, she couldn’t part with it; it was a gift from last year’s Women’s Day.
With a determined bite of her lip, Betty unhooked her bra.
As soon as it was unclasped, her full breasts burst free, bouncing without restraint.
Her nipples quivered with the sudden release.
Despite losing the support of the bra, her breasts stood firm and upright.
Bending over, she then slid off her panties, revealing her round buttocks and pink labia, along with sparse pubic hair.
Now completely nude, Betty breathed a sigh of relief.
Unlike Michael, she hadn’t slept without clothes for a week, and her environment was much cleaner.
Turning back to glance at Michael, who was still resting, Betty relaxed and dropped her arms that had been modestly covering her.
The shower turned on with a whoosh, water cascading down her face and flowing over her body, washing away the semen in her hair and rinsing it down her body to the drain.
As Betty washed, the sound of the shower awakened Michael, like a hungry wolf stirred from sleep.
His eyes snapped open at the noise, instinctively turning towards the sound.
Through the misty veil of the shower, he saw a naked beauty, her sleek hair clinging to her smooth back, her slender waist leading to her broad, curvy hips and firm buttocks, down to her long, straight legs and smooth feet.
A flicker of recognition sparked in Michael’s eyes, as if a deep-seated memory had been awakened by the sight of the familiar naked body before him.
Although Michael was not fully awake yet, a surge of desire began to build in his hazy eyes.
Regardless of his state of consciousness, his male instincts kicked in, stirring emotions within him.
His breathing grew rapid, and his cheeks flushed—a primal response to the most basic human instincts.
Slowly, Michael rose from the bathtub, water and foam cascading down his body.
He stepped out, slightly dazed, onto the floor.
The water that had dripped from Betty’s body flowed over Michael’s dark feet and into the drain beneath his heels.
It had been about ten minutes since his last climax, and his remarkable recovery was evident.
His penis stood erect, an 8-inch length proudly upright without any support, held only by its base and its own firmness.
Step by step, Michael moved toward Betty, his penis’s tip drawing ever closer to her bare skin.
All of Michael’s movements made sounds, but Betty, her hearing obscured by the shower overhead, didn’t notice the noises behind her.
She was focused on cleaning herself thoroughly, washing away not just the semen but a week’s worth of grime.
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She wanted to spend extra time under the water, letting the shower soothe her fatigue.
Michael edged closer to Betty, his steps tentative.
His eyes were a mix of confusion, memory, and desire, lacking only clarity.
At this moment, Michael was still not fully lucid.
Unaware, Betty continued her shower, oblivious to the male presence slowly approaching her from behind.