Betty leaned back into Michael’s embrace, finally revealing herself in the intimate light.
Her labia, swollen from the prolonged friction with Michael’s shaft, parted slightly, dripping with the remnants of their love.
It almost seemed as if the friction had cleansed the upper part of Michael’s penis, making it appear less dark than before.
But of course, that was just my imagination; no amount of friction could change the color of his skin.
Michael’s hands roamed over Betty’s breasts and abdomen, his endurance impressive for someone so inexperienced in the arts of love.
As he caressed her, Betty began to cry silently, tears streaming from her closed eyes, trailing past her ears, and finally landing on Michael’s face.
Feeling the cool touch on his cheek, Michael lifted his head and turned Betty’s face towards him, seeing her tears.
Yes, Betty had every reason to cry.
Though there was no penetration, their genitals had undeniably rubbed together, Michael’s penis parting Betty’s labia and nestling partly inside her.
Whether it was a millimeter or a centimeter, penetration had occurred.
In Betty’s heart, there was no trivializing the act; she felt she had completely betrayed both me and herself.
After the climax, the sobering reality was too much for her to accept, possibly marking just the beginning of something more...
Michael remained silent, unsure how to comfort Betty.
Although he had ejaculated, his penis was still erect.
Betty, quietly using Michael as a human bed, lay on top of him, crying.
At this moment, Betty’s vulva was still in contact with Michael’s penis.
His recent ejaculation had inevitably left some traces on her, though not inside her.
They remained intertwined like this for about ten minutes until Betty finally stopped crying.
She wiped the tears from her eyes, got up from Michael, and walked naked out of the room.
Her body was covered in sweat, making her skin look almost translucent, and the white foam from their friction clung to her pubic hair and labia.
Betty walked silently to the bathroom and began to shower quietly.
Her expression was calm, but her trembling hands and body betrayed her inner turmoil.
Despite her efforts to hold back, she eventually started crying again.
Although there was no penetration, the act was still a form of sexual intercourse, and it was initiated by her.
No matter how she looked at it, this was the beginning of her betrayal of her husband.
Tears mixed with the shower water, cascading over her entire body.
Meanwhile, Michael was still lying back, looking at his penis, still wet with their mixed fluids, and at the semen on the wall opposite him.
Imagining the passion they had just shared, his penis had not yet softened—a testament to his youthful vigor.
Michael’s feelings were complex; he was happy because he might finally have Betty physically, even though it wasn’t full intercourse, it was a promising start.
Yet, he also felt a pang of sadness, mirroring Betty’s distress because he genuinely cared for her.
Having grown up in an unhappy home and lost his parents, Betty’s maternal and romantic love meant everything to him.
After about half an hour, Betty, having dried off, returned to the bedroom to get a new set of underwear and pajamas.
Dressed, she took some tissues and a wet cloth to Michael’s room.
Upon entering and seeing Michael still exposing himself on the bed, she averted her eyes momentarily, a flash of shyness and reluctance crossing her face before she steadied her gaze.
Tears lingered in her eyes but did not fall as she stood by the bed, not looking at Michael’s face.
Michael, unembarrassed, watched as Betty approached.
She reached out with trembling hands to grasp his still-damp penis, then began to wipe it down with the wet cloth.
Knowing Michael wouldn’t take care of himself, possibly even neglecting to clean his own penis, Betty took on the task with mixed emotions, prioritizing Michael’s health over her discomfort.
Michael watched intently as Betty meticulously cleaned his penis, his feelings growing more intense with each of her caring gestures.
The more she cared for him, the stronger his desire for her became.
Despite trying to control himself, the cool sensation of the wet cloth on his penis made him partially erect again.
Betty felt the twitch in her hand and paused, taking a deep breath before continuing to clean him.
After she had cleaned his penis, she proceeded to wipe down his pubic hair and scrotum.
Once everything was clean, Betty breathed a sigh of relief, as if she had completed a challenging task.
After cleaning Michael, Betty covered him with a blanket, her actions filled with a maternal affection, a mother’s tender love for her son evident in her gentle touches.
After tucking him in, she climbed onto the bed and began to clean the semen from the sheets and the wall.
After using countless tissues and wet wipes, she finally managed to clean it all, though some faint traces remained due to the thickness of Michael’s semen.
Having finished, Betty threw all the used tissues into the trash, filling half the bin, then tied up the plastic bag.
She picked up the discarded clothes from the bed and floor, grabbed the trash bag, and slowly walked out of the room.
Michael watched her leave with a heavy heart, wishing she would stay and sleep with him, but he couldn’t voice his desire knowing her complex emotions.
The room went dark as the light was turned off.
Betty stepped out of the room, disposed of the trash bag at the door, and threw the old pajamas and underwear into the washing machine.
After returning to her room, she spent a sleepless night, while Michael, satisfied, soon fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Betty woke up looking exhausted, having barely slept.
She spent a long time applying makeup to hide her fatigue.
After preparing breakfast, she didn’t have to call Michael; he surprisingly got up on his own, yawning and heading to the bathroom, appearing very obedient.
The two were quiet during breakfast.
When Betty was ready to leave with her bag, Michael was already waiting with his backpack.
Seeing Michael’s obedient demeanor softened Betty’s expression slightly.
At the door, Michael took the initiative to pick up the trash bag from the previous night.
Betty’s cheeks flushed at the sight, the events of the previous night vivid in her mind.
This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.
As they left the house and closed the door behind them, the home fell silent.
I sat in front of the computer, finally breathing a sigh of relief.
If their relationship and interactions continued like this until I returned home, I could perhaps endure it, as I truly love Betty and our home.
Betty supported me through the most challenging times of my life, never thinking of abandoning me, not even showing a hint of disdain.
She loves me, and I love her; she is an integral part of my life, and I would give my life for her without a second thought.
Based on this, I’m not sure if I have the courage to continue watching the video, as I fear seeing Betty willingly fall deeper and betray me completely.
But as a journalist, my curiosity is strong, and I care so much about Betty.
Despite my fear, I can’t help but seek the truth, so I take a deep breath, sip my bitter green tea, and continue clicking the mouse to fast forward.