As night fell, Betty and Michael stepped through the doorway.
Betty was quieter than usual, but noticeably more at ease than in the morning.
Once home, Michael scurried off to do his homework, while Betty prepared dinner.
During the meal, Betty, maintaining her long-standing habit, lovingly served food onto Michael’s plate.
Michael, in a better mood, devoured his meal voraciously.
Betty watched him eat with a tender gaze; despite the lack of blood ties, this boy might be the only son she’d ever have.
Unable to bear children herself, Betty had poured all her maternal love into Michael.
Betty’s eyes flickered with a mix of emotions as she watched Michael—panic, fear, a hint of shyness, and even a subtle anticipation.
After dinner, Betty tidied up while Michael continued with his homework.
However, Michael seemed distracted, frequently glancing towards the door, eagerly hoping Betty would come to help him with his studies.
After finishing the chores, Betty returned to her bedroom.
She changed into her pajamas slowly, as if trying to delay going to Michael’s room.
Even so, the inevitable approached.
Dressed in conservative nightwear, she pulled a small object from her bag and, without turning on the light, tucked it into her cleavage, as her pajamas lacked pockets.
Finally ready, Betty slowly made her way to Michael’s room.
Hearing the door open, Michael, who had been anxiously waiting while pretending to focus on his homework, perked up immediately, though his back was to Betty.
Betty, her cheeks flushed, moved quietly to Michael’s side and sat on his bed.
She took his homework and scrutinized it intently.
For Betty, everything was about Michael’s education, which she considered of utmost importance.
After a while, she put down the homework, looking very pleased.
When Michael packed up his things, he turned and saw Betty’s complex expression.
"Michael, how about you take a break tonight? It’s not good for your health..." Betty said, her voice tinged with guilt as she caught Michael’s hopeful gaze.
She gently refused, knowing well that Michael was still growing and that prolonged sexual activity could affect his development.
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Betty couldn’t be too firm in her refusal, fearing it might undo the progress they had made in mending their strained relationship.
Michael seemed very reluctant to accept her suggestion.
He didn’t verbally refuse but shook his head firmly, a hint of anger in his eyes.
After all, the compromises Betty had made the previous night were already a stretch for him, blurring the lines of their interactions.
Seeing Michael’s firm refusal, Betty sighed, her expression one of helplessness.
"Let’s go to bed..." she uttered reluctantly, her tone laden with hesitation.
Upon hearing this, Michael quickly climbed onto the bed, sitting there unsure of what to do next.
Should he lie down as he had the night before?
He disliked the passive position and was uncertain if Betty would introduce any new twists tonight.
So, he sat waiting.
Betty slowly pushed him down, guiding him to lie on the bed.
Michael lay there unwillingly, waiting.
Betty sighed again and slowly began to unbutton her pajama top.
She didn’t fully remove it; instead, she opened it halfway, which was enough to reveal her deep cleavage and the bra that nestled her breasts.
This partial reveal, a tantalizing hint of what lay beneath, was different from being fully undressed.
It was like a veiled allure, more provocative to Michael than outright nudity.
Betty, still fully clothed except for the front half of her pajama top, exposed her deep cleavage and bra.
This special kind of allure was a mix of conservatism and openness, modesty paired with temptation.
The stark contrast and the beauty of this contradiction were too much for Michael, a novice in such matters.
Even before Betty had fully undressed, Michael’s erection was evident, straining against the fabric of his pajama pants, forming a noticeable tent.
After unbuttoning her pajama top, Betty looked over at Michael, unsure of how to proceed.
She felt somewhat helpless seeing the tent Michael had pitched.
Normally, Betty would help undress, kiss, and engage in foreplay before taking the lead herself.
But now, facing Michael, she felt a strong reluctance, her moral reservations outweighing her physical desires.
"Maybe you should take the lead..." Betty finally sighed, her voice weak.
After speaking, she lay down next to Michael and covered her eyes with the back of her hand, as if she didn’t want to witness what was to come.
Michael’s eyes lit up at her words; he preferred being in control.
He sat up and looked over at Betty.
Her pajama top was open, revealing her deep, pale cleavage and the soft curves of her breasts.
Michael’s hands reached out, his eyes scanning Betty’s body, overwhelmed like a starving man suddenly faced with a feast of delicacies, unsure where to start.
Betty’s hand over her eyes clenched into a fist, and her other hand gripped the bedsheet tightly at her side.
She knew Michael was admiring her body and was about to explore it, which made her incredibly nervous.
In this moment, Betty was sacrificing her own body to give her beloved adolescent son a practical lesson in physiology.
With a soft sound, Michael first moved towards Betty’s breasts.
Perhaps because he wasn’t her biological son and had never nursed from her, there was a lingering regret in his heart, making him particularly fond of her breasts.
Michael’s hands slipped inside her pajama top, not to caress her breasts but to rest on her shoulders.
His mouth then descended on the exposed breasts, his lips and tongue eagerly sucking and licking.
Betty seemed mentally prepared when Michael began kissing her breasts.
She bit her lip, holding back any moans, but her expression revealed that she was struggling to suppress her reactions.
Her hands clenched tighter, her brows furrowed, and her breathing became uneven.
Michael’s mouth moved eagerly across Betty’s breasts, sucking intently.
After a while, Michael, who had been blissfully closing his eyes in enjoyment, suddenly opened them, a mischievous smile flickering across his face.
Michael’s hands caressed Betty’s shoulders while his mouth firmly latched onto one of her breasts, sucking vigorously without moving.
Simultaneously, his hands began to pull down the straps of Betty’s bra.
"Wait..."
Just as Michael was about to unhook Betty’s bra, she suddenly opened her eyes and spoke out in refusal.
Michael looked confused, not understanding why Betty would stop him at this moment.
If she wouldn’t even let him remove her bra, he wondered what the point was in continuing.