Michael had never anticipated that his forceful advance would elicit such a strong reaction from Betty. Caught off guard, he found himself locked in a sudden, unexpected kiss as Betty sprung up.
In that moment, both were stunned, their lips fused together, their bodies intimately connected, as if time itself had paused.
With a soft moan from Betty, Michael began to thrust, pushing her panties aside. His penis slid past the fabric barrier, plunging deep into her.
Betty’s lips were sealed by Michael’s kiss, muffling her moans into subdued sounds. Her hands, which had grabbed Michael’s arms when she bounced up, now supported him instead of resisting.
Betty seemed to short-circuit, frozen in place, allowing Michael to wrap his arms around her from behind and continue his movements. Unbeknownst to them, his penis had fully entered her.
The rhythmic slapping of their bodies filled the air as Michael steadily thrust while slowly leaning Betty back until she lay beneath him. Their groins and bellies collided, creating a mix of dull and sharp sounds.
Betty’s eyes, wide open and locked with Michael’s, which burned with love and desire, contrasted with her own, which showed only desolation and confusion. The sound of their mingling pubic hair and the sticky noise of their fluids marked their continuous, intimate collision.
After a while, Michael released Betty’s lips. Without the comfort of his kiss, her moans became audible, though faint, as she tried to suppress them.
I sat in front of my computer, heart cooling, mind nearing collapse, as Betty did not resist but accepted the situation, something I had never expected. Her clarity seemed to be slowly consumed by lust, sinking into this carnal abyss. If the first night was forgivable, this one was not.
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Just as I was about to shut down the computer, Betty’s expression changed. Confusion turned to clarity, then to fear, and finally to anger—a stark contrast to what I had anticipated.
With a sudden burst of strength, Betty pushed Michael away. His penis was pulled out abruptly, and her panties snapped back into place, covering her again. She then slapped Michael across the face, the sound louder than all their previous noises combined. The force left a vivid imprint of her hand on his cheek.
Everything happened in an instant. Michael was stunned, Betty was stunned, and so was I, watching from behind the screen. The plot had twisted in less than a second, perhaps a reflex of both Betty’s body and mind.
Regaining her composure, Betty’s gaze filled with anger and resentment. "Enough is enough, get back to your room," she said sternly, a flicker of pity passing through her eyes as she watched Michael cover his cheek in the dark.
Like a puppet, Michael got out of bed, picked up his underwear, and walked back to his bedroom, his demeanor like that of a walking corpse. This was the first time Betty had hit him, and hit him hard. His heart must have been bleeding.
After Michael left the bedroom, Betty stared at the hand she had used to strike him, her face etched with deep regret and pain. She couldn’t fathom why she had slapped him so hard.
She hoped the slap would somehow guide their relationship in the right direction, but she wondered if the consequences would truly be positive.
Betty glanced at her hands and then sat on the bed, lost in thought. The relationship with Michael had just started to improve, and now it seemed to have reset to a more severe state. This was the first time she had hit Michael, and she had hit hard.
After pondering for a while, Betty slowly got out of bed and walked towards Michael’s bedroom. She hesitated at his door, took a few deep breaths, and prepared to open it, considering Michael was still a kid and the slap must have hurt him deeply.
Betty pressed down on Michael’s door handle, but the door didn’t open—Michael had locked himself in. Previously, he never locked his door at night, which left Betty stunned at the doorstep.
Betty knocked on the door several times, but there was no response. Inside, I saw through the monitor that Michael had buried his head under the covers, unwilling to hear any noise from outside. His body seemed to tremble slightly, suggesting he might be crying, considering his young age.
After several knocks without a response, Betty realized Michael might need some time to cool off, so she turned and went back to her own bedroom. Lying there, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She sighed heavily, overwhelmed by the situation.
Meanwhile, Michael, hearing the knocking cease, peeked out from under the covers to breathe some fresh air. I saw tears glistening on his face; he was genuinely upset. Perhaps being hit by others would anger him, but being hit by Betty, whom he deeply cared about, hurt him profoundly.
The night was long, with neither Betty nor Michael getting much sleep. In the morning, Betty, with dark circles under her eyes, got up to make breakfast. After setting the table, she glanced at the clock and noticed it was past Michael’s usual waking time.
Betty placed the breakfast on the table and went to Michael’s door, sighing deeply. She knocked again. Inside, Michael lay on his bed, wide awake but not getting up. He glanced indifferently at the door when he heard the knocks, then turned away, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"Michael, it’s time to get up for school," Betty called out after knocking a few times. She was always punctual and tried to ensure they were never late, so as time ticked closer to school hours, her anxiety grew, prompting her to finally speak through the door.
But there was no response from inside the room.
"Michael, are you listening? What are you doing? Come out and eat; it’s time for school," Betty said, her voice tinged with urgency and a hint of anger. She was frustrated with Michael’s behavior, especially since it was almost time for school.
"Michael, you..." Betty’s voice trailed off, her urgency mixing with a hint of fear. Could Michael be so upset that he was thinking of harming himself? Given his young age and immature mind, it was a distressing possibility.