Betty freed one hand from Michael’s arm and brushed her hair back from her forehead.
The intense shaking had left her hair a mess, even covering her eyes, and with the sweat on her forehead, strands stuck to her face.
Taking a moment to catch her breath, Betty tried to tidy up her disheveled appearance.
Michael also paused for a brief rest.
As his facial expression slowly relaxed, he managed to suppress his imminent climax.
Now ready to continue, Michael seemed to want to change positions.
He scanned the bathroom, looking for a suitable spot or support, but they had already used several areas.
Finally, his gaze settled on the floor beneath them, a flicker of memory crossing his face, though it was unclear what he recalled.
"Ah..." Betty moaned softly, not from penetration but because Michael slightly withdrew his penis.
Adjusting his stance, Michael found that without the right angle, he couldn’t fully enter her.
To stand properly, he had to sacrifice a bit of depth.
After finding a stable standing position, Michael attempted to sit down while maintaining penetration, an impossible feat.
Each attempt to sit disrupted their balance, making it clear that staying connected while moving to the floor was a fantasy.
With no other option, Michael reluctantly withdrew completely from Betty.
This was the first time he had done so since they began.
Even after his initial climax, he had stayed inside her.
His penis, soaked for so long inside her, appeared remarkably clean, coated with a grainy residue of semen.
Upon withdrawal, Betty’s vagina didn’t immediately close but remained open, revealing the smooth, pink inner walls and her clitoris, now surrounded by a frothy mix of white fluid and tiny bubbles.
The surrounding pubic hair was clumped together, looking quite disheveled.
"Ah oh..." Betty moaned again, this time with a mix of confusion and surprise.
She could always tell when Michael ejaculated because of the significant volume and the pulsing swelling of his penis.
But what puzzled and surprised her was why he withdrew without climaxing this time.
It took a while after Michael pulled out for Betty’s vagina to reluctantly close.
During this process, a few drops of semen slowly leaked out.
The few drops didn’t mean Michael had ejaculated little; on the contrary, it indicated that most of his semen had been successfully deposited deep inside her, slowly being absorbed by her body.
If Betty didn’t take any post-coital contraceptive measures, the semen might meet her egg, potentially leading to conception.
After withdrawing, Michael slowly released his grip on Betty’s hips.
He cautiously relaxed his hands, fearing that if he let go abruptly, she might collapse.
Once he saw she could stand on her own, he quickly sat down on the floor and lay back.
Lying flat, his semen and fluid-coated penis stood erect, forming a right angle with his body.
"Mom..." Michael whispered softly as he lay back.
Betty, who had been swaying slightly while standing with her eyes closed, seemed reluctant to face reality.
However, upon hearing Michael’s call, she opened her eyes and turned to look back at her son, who had been behind her for quite some time.
She saw Michael lying on the floor, his erection prominent, and she knew exactly what this scene implied.
Her eyes, filled with both weakness and desire, flickered with memories.
Yes, the woman-on-top position.
During the times Betty comforted Michael, she would sit atop him, rubbing his shaft with her labia but never allowing penetration.
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Now, the same position beckoned, but this time it wasn’t just about rubbing; it was about real penetration, about making love.
Michael, perhaps understanding Betty’s "difficulty," lay with his eyes closed, hands by his sides, pretending to be asleep.
Yes, the pretending Michael, a familiar scenario.
What would Betty do?
Betty hesitated.
She understood what Michael wanted, but should she take the initiative?
If she reverted to just rubbing as before, would Michael still be satisfied?
Would he leave home again?
These thoughts seemed somewhat self-deceptive now.
After all the penetration and having just ejaculated inside her, did these concerns still matter?
Betty sighed and slowly moved her frail body towards Michael; they weren’t far apart to begin with.
After reaching Michael’s side, Betty initially faced him, but after a moment’s hesitation, she slowly turned around, straddling him with her long legs and gradually squatting down.
As she reached the right height, Michael’s hands moved to his groin, pinching his sticky, wet penis with two fingers, as if trying to minimize the contact area between her hand and his penis.
In reality, I wished Betty’s hand had more contact with Michael’s penis and less with her vagina, but reality was the opposite.
Michael’s penis could have stayed erect without assistance, but Betty held it to align it with her entrance.
Betty wasn’t fully letting go yet; she didn’t look down to check the alignment with her entrance.
Her face was forward, eyes closed, breathing quickened—a reaction she always had before being intimate with Michael, whether penetration occurred or not.
Relying solely on feel, Betty guided Michael’s penis to her entrance.
Their unspoken understanding shone through as Betty, eyes still closed, held Michael’s penis and continued to squat down.
Just once, Betty’s entrance perfectly met the head of Michael’s penis.
Because Betty stopped squatting, Michael’s head only touched her labia, not yet parting them to enter.
Unbeknownst to Betty, Michael had stealthily opened his eyes the moment she grasped his penis.
His gaze fell on Betty’s smooth back, then down her slender waist to her full, round buttocks, and further down to her parted buttocks.
Between them, her thick labia also parted, getting closer to his head.
Seeing this, excitement filled Michael’s eyes.
The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived.
His beloved mother, holding his penis, aligning it with her entrance, then sitting down to take him inside, and moving up and down with her back to him—a scene he had only dreamed of was about to become reality.
Though not yet penetrated, Betty’s anus contracted rhythmically, perhaps due to her eagerness or nervousness, while Michael watched, fascinated by the sight of her contracting anus.