After Betty brought Michael home, she started whipping up dinner at lightning speed. Every now and then, she’d pop her head out of the kitchen to check the clock on the living room wall.
It was clear she was counting down the minutes until my return. But even after she had everything ready and served, I still hadn’t shown up.
Michael and Betty were just sitting there, staring at each other, with Betty occasionally glancing at the clock. As time slowly ticked by, Betty couldn’t help but shake her head in disappointment, guessing that I probably wouldn’t make it home tonight.
"Mom, when are we going to eat?" Michael piped up, clearly starving as he eyed the food on the table, his saliva almost visible. The kid was growing like a weed, always hungry – totally normal.
"Sorry, kiddo, Mom totally spaced on that. Let’s eat..." Betty finally remembered that Michael hadn’t eaten yet and apologized with a hint of guilt.
Watching this scene, I felt a twinge of emotion. I used to think that Michael had taken my place in Betty’s heart, but here she was, waiting to eat with me and completely forgetting about feeding the kid.
It seemed I still held a significant spot in her heart, at least no less than Michael.
Michael was demolishing his food at the table while Betty ate absentmindedly. After half an hour passed and I still hadn’t returned, she went back to the bedroom to check her phone.
A bitter smile and a hint of self-mockery crossed her face. She put the phone back on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom, heading straight for the fridge.
She pulled out a bottle of red wine that she rarely drank. I had bought it for her, suggesting a little each day could be beautifying, but she was never really into it. However, tonight she seemed really down, ready to drown her sorrows in wine.
"Mom, why are you drinking?" Michael asked, surprised as Betty poured herself a glass of red wine.
"It’s nothing, just felt like having some. Too bad you’re too young, or you could join me..." Betty said with a smile, though it was tinged with sadness, the argument we had really upset her.
"Sure, I could start now..." Michael glanced at the bottle, clearly tempted.
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"No way, you’re still growing. Wait till you’re older..." Betty shook her head, her tone unusually firm to emphasize her seriousness.
"Okay, got it. Try not to drink too much, Mom..." Michael said, then went back to his dinner. But I caught a glint in his eye; despite his words, he probably wouldn’t mind if Betty drank more, knowing all too well the saying about alcohol loosening inhibitions.
Betty only had one glass, but it was three times what she usually drank. Her cheeks were slightly flushed after finishing it.
"Michael, go do your homework. Mom will clean up and check it later..." Betty stood up, her body steady but her steps a bit unsteady.
Michael nodded and went off to his room to study, while Betty started clearing the table and washing the dishes. Everyone knows red wine can sneak up on you, and by the time she was done, Betty was definitely feeling it.
"Michael, make sure you finish your homework, okay? Go straight to bed after. Mom will check it in the morning; I can’t tonight, I’m heading to bed..."
After cleaning up, Betty went back to her bedroom to change into her pajamas. Her movements were slow, and she kept shaking her head as if to clear it, clearly dizzy as she made her way to tell Michael goodnight before retiring to her room.
"Uh..." Michael didn’t react much when he heard the news, just a bit disappointed. After all, he knew I was back, which meant Betty couldn’t stay over to sleep with him anymore.
Michael kept on with his homework, while Betty staggered back to her bedroom and flopped down on the bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep. It was just 7:30 PM.
As Michael scribbled away, he occasionally glanced at the clock on the wall, perhaps wondering if Betty was asleep or if there was still a chance for him to head home tonight.
By the time the clock struck 8:30 PM, it was Michael’s usual bedtime. He took a deep breath, a slight smile and a hint of excitement on his face, probably knowing that I, playing the lead role tonight, wouldn’t be coming back.
It seemed like our recent argument had left Michael unwilling to speak well of me in front of Betty, maybe he didn’t want us to patch things up. I had this suspicion based on the hint of jealousy I’d caught in his eyes over the past few days.
Michael quickly packed up his homework and tiptoed out of his room, heading towards Betty’s bedroom. After her blurry return, Betty hadn’t bothered to lock her door, showing no guard against Michael whatsoever.
Finding her door slightly ajar brought a smile to his face. He gently pushed it open with one finger, and it swung silently wider. There lay Betty, in her modest nightgown, peacefully asleep on our bed.
Michael paused at the doorway, listening carefully to Betty’s breathing to make sure it was even. Once reassured, he grew bolder and stepped into her room, standing beside her bed and looking down at her. The room was clear enough to see everything, thanks to the dim, clear moonlight filtering in from outside.
Betty was lying on her back, and although she was drunk, her sleeping posture was still very conservative and graceful.
Michael bent down and lightly kissed Betty’s lips, savoring the mix of red wine and her lip scent. Knowing from the past few nights that Betty was a heavy sleeper, Michael didn’t hesitate much. He reached out and gently began to massage her vibrant breasts through her nightgown.
Though still not of age, Michael was quite tall and his hands were nearly as large as mine, but even his large hands couldn’t fully encompass Betty’s ample bust. After a while, feeling unsatisfied, he stopped massaging and slowly began to unbutton her nightgown. For safety, he only unfastened the top three buttons, leaving the rest intact to ensure he had enough time to react if needed.
As he undid each button, Betty’s cleavage began to reveal itself. When the third button was undone, her bra was completely exposed.
Michael then used both hands to lift the cups of her bra, exposing Betty’s nipples and areolas. Seeing them again after several nights excited him greatly. He gently placed his hands over her now bare breasts, then withdrew them to his nose, indulging in the scent of her skin, his expression one of sheer bliss.
Michael’s eyes fluttered closed, then open again, lost in ecstasy. His pajama bottoms tented visibly. He leaned down and took Betty’s nipple and areola into his mouth, his cheeks pulsing as he sucked, as if drawing milk from her breasts. While sucking on one, he caressed and massaged the other.
Michael lingered over Betty’s breasts for a long time.