"Michael..." Betty’s voice was weak and hoarse.
"Mom..." Michael replied obediently, his voice as gentle as ever, calling out to Betty in the familiar tone.
"Have you finally come to?" Betty seemed to forget everything, her face lighting up with surprise. Though her expression was frail, this hint of joy breathed some life into her.
"Mmm..." Michael didn’t say much, just responded with a sound.
"That’s wonderful, you’re awake... Do you know how worried Mom was?" Betty seemed to forget the recent events, as well as their current position and situation.
They talked back and forth as if they were just chatting in everyday life, not noticing that they were both naked, with their genitals tightly connected. It was an act of intimacy usually reserved for couples.
"I’m sorry, Mom..." Michael didn’t respond to Betty’s words, just apologized to her.
"Don’t say that anymore, it’s my fault for not giving you enough love..." Betty was lost in the joy of Michael’s awakening. As she tried to sit up to talk to him, the movement caused the penis inside her to move as well, eliciting a moan from her.
This moan, though common during sexual intercourse, felt utterly out of place in their calm conversation, snapping them both back to reality as they suddenly became aware of each other’s naked bodies...
After observing each other’s bodies, their gazes met again. Initially, Betty’s eyes flickered with surprise, then settled into calmness, while Michael’s gaze remained steady throughout.
Perhaps, compared to Betty, he was less rational, driven more by his physical desires.
Betty lowered her head, not out of shyness, but hesitation flashed in her eyes.
Perhaps what she wanted most was to reject Michael, even asking him to withdraw from her, but she dared not speak out, especially since the incident of Michael running away from home had just passed.
Betty’s gaze shifted away, but Michael’s did not. He might not see her eyes, but he could see the furrowed brow and the tension on her forehead, guessing her hesitations.
Having been so intimately connected, Michael could almost read Betty’s thoughts.
The hesitation felt like a battlefield, each waiting for the other to make a move.
The room fell into a brief silence. Betty’s hesitation was calm, while Michael’s was more intense, his emotions tinged with urgency and panic. He was so eager to have Betty, it seemed he had dreamt of this moment, and now that he had it, he was not willing to let go easily.
"Ah... oh... you... stop... ah... stop..." Suddenly, Betty’s moans broke the silence.
Michael had made his decision first. He bit his lip, his jaw muscles visibly tensing as he lay behind Betty and began to thrust rapidly.
The sound of his hips hitting Betty’s buttocks echoed in the room.
Initially lost in thought, Betty’s first cry was of surprise, but the pleasure from Michael’s vigorous thrusts soon took over.
The conversation and silence had allowed her climax to subside, but now Michael’s movements brought her to new heights of pleasure.
Betty’s body was rocked back and forth by Michael’s forceful and rapid thrusts, her hips grinding against the cold, hard tiles.
Michael’s hands were firm on her hip bone, steadying her as he drove into her relentlessly. Betty initially attempted to speak, to ask for a brief respite, but her words were quickly drowned out by her own uncontrollable moans and cries of pleasure.
The little energy she had managed to gather was swiftly sapped by Michael’s fervent pace, leaving her utterly at his mercy, like a helpless creature under the butcher’s knife.
Completely drained by Michael’s vigorous actions, Betty felt powerless, while Michael seemed to draw strength from the intensity, becoming more determined with each thrust.
After pounding into Betty from behind on the tiled floor, Michael found the position too taxing and not quite satisfying. Thus, after about five minutes, he ceased his thrusting.
Without losing a beat, Michael steadied Betty’s hips and kept his penis deeply embedded inside her, ensuring there was no gap between his groin and her buttocks. He then proceeded to adjust their positions.
Holding onto Betty’s abdomen, Michael rose to his knees, maneuvering Betty along with him.
Throughout this adjustment, Betty was passive, almost limp, allowing Michael to position her as he wished.
Eventually, they both found themselves in a kneeling position, but with distinct postures: Michael upright on his knees, and Betty on all fours, her posture reminiscent of a dog, thus perfectly forming the doggy style position.
Once they were positioned, Michael resumed his thrusting with renewed urgency.
Now free from the friction of the floor, his movements were smoother and more forceful. Michael’s rhythm was impeccable, his thrusts both regular and rapid, sending waves across Betty’s buttocks.
From his elevated position, Michael had a commanding view of Betty’s swaying back, her slender neck, her cascading hair, and the sight of his own thick penis moving vigorously in and out of her, nestled between the cheeks of her buttocks.
The veins on his penis were pronounced, bulging with each thrust, contrasting starkly with the delicate folds of Betty’s genitals.
Each of Michael’s thrusts drew out strands of white fluid, which accumulated around Betty’s genitals.
Directly above where their bodies connected, Betty’s anus was exposed and vulnerable under Michael’s intense gaze.
With each powerful thrust, Betty’s anus opened and closed in sync with his movements, mirroring the rhythm of their intense coupling.
Betty’s body continued to rock back and forth with the force of Michael’s impacts.
Her full breasts swung wildly under her, slapping against her chest rhythmically with each movement. Although Michael couldn’t see this from his position, I, observing through a surveillance camera, had a clear view of Betty’s breasts dancing wildly, a spectacle that felt like a peculiar form of compensation for me.
Watching Betty’s continuously shaking form, Michael felt a surge of pride and satisfaction.
He likened himself to a victorious knight, riding his steed, which galloped obediently under his command. To him, Betty was both a beast of burden and a slave to his desires, responding precisely to his every command.
How could Michael not feel a profound sense of satisfaction and fulfillment from such complete control and dominance?
This method of interaction was the ultimate affirmation of his vanity and pleasure.
This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.