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Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 138 The moment was ripe for the next step Part1 R18
Betty clenched her teeth, her eyes shut tight, as Michael’s fervor seemed to chip away at her sanity bit by bit.
"Ugh... you bastard... mmm..."
Michael, driven by wild desire, suddenly reached out with both hands, effortlessly slipping them into a place Betty’s hands couldn’t reach—between their bodies.
He found his target—Betty’s breasts.
Through her nightgown, Michael began to knead them, eliciting a soft moan from Betty.
In a moment of confusion and loss of control, she cursed at him, but her words were soon swallowed by Michael’s deep kiss.
Betty’s breasts were full and large, much larger than Michael’s hands, which were themselves large and dark.
Michael’s hands couldn’t completely cover Betty’s breasts, perhaps the only part of her body larger than his.
As Michael continued to massage and kiss her, Betty’s struggles seemed to diminish gradually.
I stood outside the door, watching Betty’s resistance slowly fade, unsure if it was due to her dwindling physical strength or her heart gradually accepting Michael’s advances.
"Mmm... no... don’t... ah..."
Betty’s lips were free again, still voicing refusal, yet her moans mixed with a hint of pleasure suggested her body was becoming more sensitive.
Was it possible that sexual desire required love as a prerequisite?
Had Betty’s feelings for Michael changed deep down?
"Mmm..."
Betty’s words of refusal were becoming less frequent, her moans more abundant.
Her cheeks flushed, her breathing quickened.
Michael’s hands continued their work on her breasts, the firm mounds changing shape under his touch.
Meanwhile, I noticed Michael’s legs slowly forcing their way between Betty’s, which had been tightly closed.
Betty instinctively knew that her legs guarded her last bastion, so she had kept them clenched from the start.
However, leveraging his weight and position, Michael easily wedged his legs between hers.
Betty’s legs put up a final struggle but eventually gave way.
Her expression was one of struggle, but as her legs parted, her brow relaxed, resigning to the inevitability of the situation.
At the same time, Michael’s penis continued to rub against Betty’s nightgown, already positioned between them, the friction of their moving bodies intensifying the contact.
His erection was fully pronounced, and the head of his penis, the size of an egg, kept secreting a sticky fluid, staining Betty’s nightgown.
Two minutes had passed in this enduring battle.
Michael was using time and foreplay to dissolve Betty’s last doubts and resistance.
This slow-boiling approach seemed effective, as Betty’s struggles visibly weakened.
This struggle was indeed diminishing.
This time was different from their first encounter, where Michael had been forceful and Betty had been utterly resistant.
Now, after countless encounters, Michael’s actions were no longer rough but had a gentle firmness, and Betty’s refusals were not absolute but mixed with some degree of acceptance.
"Think... Michael... not tonight, okay? Ah..."
Betty, her mind clouded, now opened her eyes, but her gaze lacked resolve, her voice carrying a hint of negotiation and pleading.
Both Michael and I could see that only a faint struggle remained in her eyes, and once that vanished, everything would naturally proceed.
"Mom, let me give you a complete anniversary tonight. What happened at the club was just the beginning, now for the next part..."
Michael, having kissed and touched enough, sensed that the moment was ripe.
After his efforts, Betty was left with just a shred of rationality and resistance, which couldn’t be erased by mere foreplay and teasing alone.
It would take Michael’s words, his attitude, perhaps even a look.
"This... um... mmm—mm..."
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Betty hesitated upon hearing Michael’s words, unsure whether to refuse or to accept his "suggestion."
Before she could decide, Michael’s kiss silenced any response.
Throughout this, Betty’s eyes remained open, initially filled with panic and reluctance, her whimpers muffled by Michael’s relentless kisses.
After a long struggle, her eyes slowly closed, like someone resigning to fate, her spirit seemingly leaving her body, turning her into a passive participant.
At this point, everything seemed inevitable.
Perhaps Betty knew that Michael would prevail regardless of her resistance, or maybe her desires had been stirred, recalling Michael’s prowess, convincing herself to succumb once more.
The outcome was now beyond doubt.
Michael continued to kiss Betty passionately while kneading her breasts, his legs firmly planted at the edge of the bed, preventing hers from closing.
After a while, Michael’s hands left Betty’s breasts and moved to his waist, swiftly pulling down his pants.
Since he couldn’t break the kiss, he couldn’t squat down, so his pants were only pulled down to his knees, but that was enough.
Michael’s buttocks, covered in hair, and his densely pubic area, along with his unusually large penis and the deeply wrinkled, dark red scrotum, were fully exposed without any obstruction.
As Michael’s hands moved upward, he lifted the hem of Betty’s nightgown, gradually revealing her smooth, slender thighs.
Initially just below the knees, then the upper thighs, followed by her panties, and then her waist.
When Betty’s panties became visible, it was clear they were damp, the moisture undoubtedly telling of her arousal.
Betty seemed to muster the last of her resistance, her legs twitching slightly, but Michael’s legs blocked any meaningful movement, making her efforts merely symbolic.
Michael stopped lifting Betty’s nightgown at her waist since the most crucial parts were already exposed.
Perhaps Michael didn’t want to hear Betty’s refusals, or maybe her words would dampen his mood.
His lips remained locked on hers, kissing her intensely, preventing any protest.
After lifting Betty’s nightgown, Michael’s right index finger gently touched her clit, feeling it through her panties.
The touch sent a shiver through Betty’s body, and I could clearly see her buttocks tense up against the bed, the contours tightening and then relaxing.
Just this brief contact through her underwear was enough to stimulate Betty significantly, indicating her body was fully engulfed in desire.
When Michael lifted his finger, it was coated with a glistening strand of her arousal, stretching into a thin line between her panties and his finger, only breaking reluctantly as he pulled away.
Betty’s arousal had soaked through her panties, her vagina secreting an ample, even excessive, amount of lubrication.
Michael’s urethral opening was also secreting enough fluid, preparing both for mutual accommodation and friction.
Michael didn’t need to bring his finger to his eyes to know what was happening; his sense of touch told him everything.
The moment was ripe for the next step.