Watching Betty’s expression, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of bitterness. Should I tell Betty about Michael’s issues? Without showing her the video, she probably wouldn’t believe me. Heck, I might even earn myself a slap for my troubles.
Michael, seeing Betty and me, flashed a look of discomfort, avoiding eye contact. Maybe he overheard Betty and me making love last night? After leaving his bedroom, he quickly darted into the bathroom to freshen up.
After breakfast, Betty took Michael to school, and I headed to the office. At work, Betty’s words kept echoing in my mind, "I also know it wouldn’t be Michael..." She was so certain when she said it. Was she just convinced because Michael is her adopted son, and therefore she believed he wouldn’t dare do such a thing? That explanation seemed a bit far-fetched.
I kept replaying interactions between Betty and Michael in my mind, but nothing stood out. Betty and Michael hadn’t crossed any lines, and Betty was still oblivious to Michael’s inappropriate feelings towards her. I was sure of that. Was I missing something?
Right, the bathroom video. I hadn’t checked that yet. That night, I forgot to remove the memory card from the camera in the bathroom. When I went back to switch out the surveillance equipment, I took the camera and the memory card out.
It’s now quietly sitting in my bag. With the recent revival of my relationship with Betty, I’d completely forgotten about it.
Maybe this video will reveal some clues.
During a break at work, I pulled out the memory card and slotted it into the card reader connected to my computer. I selected the right timestamp, and the video started playing...
In the footage, Michael seemed to be in a rush, maybe even suffering from diarrhea, as he hurried into the bathroom. He quickly pulled down his pants and sat on the toilet. His movements were so rapid that, due to the angle of the camera, I couldn’t see Michael’s rear or genitals.
It was clear Michael really had diarrhea, the sounds were a giveaway. He looked relieved, but just as he was about done, something seemed to strike him. He glanced nervously at the bathroom door, probably realizing only then, in his haste, he hadn’t locked it.
The last thing he’d want was for Betty to walk in and catch him in that state, smell and all. After all, for a young guy, maintaining a cool image in front of his crush is crucial.
Michael hadn’t even wiped yet when he flushed the toilet and hit the air freshener. As he got up to finally take care of business, pulling at the toilet paper, he heard footsteps. Suddenly, Betty walked in, arms full of bed linens. Michael, caught off-guard, froze mid-bend, his expression one of total bewilderment.
Betty, carrying the linens into the bathroom, only then noticed the light was on and there was a peculiar mix of scents in the air. She lowered the linens to peek over them.
Just as Betty set down the linens and could see Michael, bent over by the toilet, one hand still pulling at the toilet paper, she froze. She certainly hadn’t expected to find Michael in the bathroom. Her gaze, initially meeting his eyes, involuntarily drifted downwards, finally resting on his lower half.
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Normally, Betty would have averted her eyes and left, but for some reason, she seemed unable to control her gaze, fixated on Michael’s lower body.
Time seemed to stand still as they both stood there, completely stunned...
Caught with his pants down—literally—Michael was in quite the pickle. His sweatpants were bunched around his knees, and he was bent over in a rather compromising position. His underdeveloped genitals dangled awkwardly, swaying slightly with each of his nervous breaths.
Slowly, the bed linens and old clothes slipped from Betty’s grasp, landing softly on the tiled floor with a muted thud. Finally snapping out of her initial shock, Betty let out a soft "Ah" and quickly turned around.
"I... uh... didn’t know you were in here... Make sure to lock the door next time, okay?" she stammered before hurrying out the door, leaving behind a scene that had her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
The whole awkward encounter stemmed from Betty accidentally catching a glimpse of her foster son’s penis. It was my first time seeing it too, and it was notably large even without an erection, a surprising size for his age.
Perhaps due to his ethnicity, his flaccid penis was remarkably dark and imposing. By my estimates, Michael would be at least 7 inches erect—a startling thought given his incomplete development.
Betty, initially dumbfounded, might have been overwhelmed by the size, which likely exceeded anything within her frame of reference. This unexpected sight might have been the first time she saw another male’s penis up close, especially one so large and belonging to a young boy.
Some women harbor a fascination with male genitalia, and perhaps Betty was no exception. From that moment, Michael was no longer just a child in her eyes, but a real man.
That night, as I was with Betty, she could tell the difference; she knew it wasn’t Michael because of the size. This realization probably solidified her certainty in saying, "I also know it’s not Michael," a reason she might never fully explain to me.
Seeing Michael’s penis seemed to have altered their relationship subtly, bringing them closer rather than creating awkwardness. Whatever changes occurred in Betty’s heart, they were profound and lasting, though exactly what those changes were, I couldn’t say for sure.
And here’s another odd thing I noticed—I’ve never actually seen Michael masturbate or ejaculate.
You know, it’s pretty common for boys during puberty to explore that, but Michael? He might touch himself briefly, but never goes beyond that. It’s really strange. Could it be that he just doesn’t know how?
After watching the video and figuring out what was going on, I decided I needed to take control of the situation. I couldn’t just let things keep going this way.
But I couldn’t tell Betty about the surveillance cameras I’d installed around the house. From now on, I’d have to spend more time at home, try to limit the time Betty and Michael were alone together.
Sure, they could be alone at school, but that’s different.
They’re not seen as mother and son there, and with all the people around, I felt more secure about their interactions at school.
Following that nearly disastrous night with Betty, I’ve been on high alert with Michael. At home, I maintain our father-son relationship on the surface—showing the right amount of care and attention, making sure not to let Betty suspect anything.
Given my rich social experience, I guess Michael can sense that I’ve become wary and defensive around him.