Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 58 - 0 Sexual desire is like Pandora’s box Part5

The moment Michael’s door clicked shut, Betty’s eyes finally fluttered open. She had sensed what Michael was smearing on her even before he started applying it to her breasts.

Initially, Betty might have thought it was just arousal fluid or vaginal secretion, but as it touched her breasts, she sniffed subtly a few times. Clutching the sheets tightly, she recognized the distinct musky scent of male hormones all too well.

After Michael left for the bathroom, presumably to clean up, Betty slid her hand into her pajama pants. As she felt the contours of her own body, her fingers reached her vagina. Pulling her hand out, she sniffed it and then let it fall limply onto the mattress, drained of all strength.

A single tear rolled down from her eye, tracing her cheek before soaking into the sheets. She had confirmed that the substance smeared on her was indeed Michael’s semen, and he had even pushed the initial load inside her.

Meanwhile, the culprit—Michael—was in the bathroom, wiping his penis and thoroughly cleaning his towel. After hanging the towel, he returned to the room, content with his night’s conquest, and slowly drifted off to sleep, even snoring at one point.

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Betty, however, lay awake, tears continuing to stream down her face. She knew she had been violated in multiple ways by Michael—through oral, digital penetration, and now with semen deposited inside her.

The only thing missing was actual intercourse, but did that even make a difference now? She felt a mix of emotions but surprisingly not hatred.

Rising from the bed, Betty quietly left the room and headed to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, she stripped off all her clothes, her body still marked by Michael’s traces. As a first-time ejaculator, Michael was unaware of the nature of semen.

When semen dries on skin, it leaves behind flaky, plastic-like residues, and now Betty’s body bore these clear, damning signs.

Standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror, Betty examined her reflection. Her body was a vision of perfection—full breasts, a slender waist, long legs, and delicate feet topped by flowing hair and a stunning face.

However, her normally pristine skin was now marred by dried semen, adding a tragic sheen to her beauty. The sparse pubic hair at her groin was clumped together with dried semen, turning the normally neat area into a disheveled mess.

Betty slightly parted her legs, then used two fingers to spread her labia. Due to her position, the semen that hadn’t flowed out while she was lying on her side now slowly began to trickle from her vaginal opening.

This thick semen was now diluted with her vaginal fluids, making it much less viscous. As Betty watched the genuine semen continuously flow out in the mirror, she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.

At this moment, she didn’t care if Michael would wake up and find her; she knew her body was no longer pure and nothing could change that.

She cried while turning on the shower, washing her body. The semen Michael had smeared on her was washed away bit by bit, and she even cleaned her vagina thoroughly.

However, the deeper parts were unreachable, and the remaining semen would eventually be absorbed and metabolized by her body, becoming a part of her forever.

Sitting in front of my computer, I reached into my drawer and pulled out a cigarette. I don’t usually smoke, but when work gets overwhelming or the pressure too much, I find myself lighting one up.

This pack has lasted a few months, indicating that these moments of feeling powerless are rare, but today I felt compelled to smoke again.

My whole body felt numb, my mind slightly dizzy. Perhaps my feelings mirrored Betty’s in some way. Betty was no longer pure, and although Michael hadn’t penetrated her, he had found other ways to possess her.

The thought of Michael’s semen inside Betty made me feel nauseous. Even though it would eventually disappear over time, the image of Betty’s graceful form seemed permanently tainted with Michael’s semen, as if it could never be fully washed away.

Betty didn’t hate Michael because she saw him through the eyes of a mother. Michael was in his adolescence, and it was normal for him to have sexual desires.

She blamed herself for being careless, for inadvertently giving Michael opportunities by kissing him and agreeing to sleep beside him, sending him the wrong signals.

Betty was a naive and kind woman, always trying to attribute faults to herself and absolve others. I, however, felt resentment.

I decided that once I got home, I would send Michael away, perhaps to a foster home or another family. There are many childless families who would likely be willing to adopt a boy like him.

I couldn’t keep this ticking time bomb in my house any longer.

Michael’s actions had frightened me, and although I felt some guilt towards Laura, it wasn’t enough to risk my family falling apart.

In the video, Betty, after cleaning herself, didn’t dry off but curled up in the bathtub, hugging her knees and burying her face between them. She let the shower water wash over her hair and flow down her body. She was trying to calm herself, and as a journalist, I could guess she was contemplating her next steps.

Should she confront Michael and then keep her distance, or should she pretend nothing happened and continue their mother-son relationship, just being more cautious in the future?

Various plans and thoughts flashed through Betty’s mind.

Time ticked away, and I uncharacteristically smoked two cigarettes back-to-back. For someone who doesn’t usually smoke, this was a first.

After stubbing out the cigarette, my face felt tight and tense. Meanwhile, in the video, Betty finally got up from the bathtub. She grabbed a towel and dried off her body, then slipped into her pajama top and bottoms.

However, she didn’t put on the underwear that was now stained with semen. Instead, she sneakily tossed it into the washing machine in the bathroom, where some old clothes were already piled up. She buried the soiled underwear beneath the other garments and then walked out of the bathroom.

Standing at the bathroom door, Betty glanced towards Michael’s room and then at our bedroom. She was at a crossroads.

If she went back to her own bedroom now, Michael would wake up the next day and realize that Betty might already know about his violation. This would inadvertently confront Michael, making it difficult to maintain their mother-son relationship.

On the other hand, if Betty returned to Michael’s bedroom, she could pretend nothing had happened when they woke up the next day.

This way, she could keep her beloved son close and avoid exposing any flaws in front of her husband, allowing the family of three to continue as before. Perhaps when Michael grew older or lost interest in her body, he would naturally drift away from her.

Sitting in front of my computer, I watched to see what choice Betty would make.

I had already decided to kick Michael out, so I was hoping Betty would return to our bedroom, keep her distance from Michael, and confess everything to me when I got home. That way, I could forgive Betty and then send Michael away.

However, what happened next disappointed me. Betty chose acceptance and compromise. She took a deep breath and walked towards Michael’s bedroom. She opened the door and stepped inside, and the door slowly closed behind her...