Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 136 What exactly had they been up to? Part4 R18

In my mind, a vivid scene unfolds: Michael and Betty, lost in the pulsating beats of a nightclub, dancing wildly.

Whether by accident or design, Michael’s hands wander over Betty, caressing her most private and sensitive areas.

Yet, Betty’s expression reveals no real anger, only a complex mix of emotions.

At this moment, my thoughts drift from their actions to a more pressing question: "What promise?"

What pact had Betty and Michael made?

begins with Michael reciting a pledge as if it were a school lesson, "Of course I remember. Study hard, stay on the right path, be proactive, respect and care for dad when I grow up, and maintain self-control over my body, no masturbation or wild thoughts..."

His words flow smoothly, well-rehearsed.

One phrase catches my attention: "respect and care for dad."

Is he referring to me?

If this were the past, I’d be certain, since his biological father has passed away, and I’ve stepped into that role.

Could these really be the promises that justify Michael’s actions?

For these vows, has Betty truly betrayed both herself and me?

"Alright, no need to recite any further. Just remember them. And this matter must never reach your dad’s ears, or the consequences will be dire. You understand? What I fear most is your dad finding out. Everything would be ruined. We must keep this hidden at all costs..."

Betty interrupts Michael, her voice laden with urgency, her face etched with concern, desperate to keep this secret from me.

Dear wife, do you realize I’m just outside the door, mere steps away from you?

"No worries, as soon as he returns, I’ll behave, I won’t bother mom..."

Michael responds, thumping his chest confidently, his words accompanied by the trembling of his body and the noticeable movement of his penis.

"Hope what mom’s doing isn’t a mistake, sigh..."

Betty hears Michael’s assurance but shows no joy, only sinking deeper into melancholy, ending her sentence with a heavy sigh.

After her sigh, Betty looks down, while Michael stands, awkward and unsure whether to adjust his clothing.

A brief silence falls between them, until Betty finally looks up, her gaze landing first on Michael’s erect and unyielding penis, then meeting his hopeful eyes.

Betty’s face, initially regaining some color, flushes red again at the thought.

She sighs once more, and with cheeks burning, extends her hand.

Under my watchful eye through the crack of the door, she grasps Michael’s large penis.

"Uh..."

The moment Betty’s hand encloses Michael’s penis, he lets out a pleasured moan, a sound of excitement and enjoyment as Betty’s warm hand caresses him.

Hearing Michael’s moan, Betty’s cheeks turn even redder, but she keeps her head down, gently stroking his penis, avoiding eye contact perhaps to escape a part of her inner turmoil.

With her face flushed, Betty continues to stroke Michael’s penis.

Outside, I watch as the hands I’ve held countless times now touch another man’s genitals.

My heart aches, not just from the simple act of touching, but from the shattering of my last illusions; their casual interaction is proof enough of their intimacy.

Watching Michael’s eager anticipation, I know this is just the beginning...

"Close your eyes..."

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Betty murmurs without looking up.

Upon hearing her, Michael closes his eyes, though not completely, sneakily peeking through his lashes.

"Don’t peek..."

Betty, knowing Michael too well, speaks firmly without needing to look up, a testament to how many times they’ve rehearsed this scenario.

Standing just outside the door, I watched Betty sitting on the bed, stroking Michael’s penis while instructing him to keep his eyes closed.

What was she planning?

Did making love now require Michael to keep his eyes shut the entire time?

But what happened next shattered all my hopes and expectations.

Betty glanced up to make sure Michael’s eyes were truly closed, then she picked up a wet wipe from his desk and began meticulously cleaning his penis— the tip, the ridge, the shaft, and even the pubic hair.

Every part was thoroughly wiped down.

From my vantage point outside, I wondered if they were preparing for unprotected sex.

Were they planning to finish inside?

Betty hadn’t taken any precautions.

Had she been relying on birth control pills all this time, or was she not using any protection at all?

Betty was meticulous in her cleaning, and perhaps because of the thoroughness, Michael, with his eyes closed, occasionally gasped in comfort, even letting out a soft moan of pleasure.

After cleaning the dirtiest parts of Michael, Betty swallowed hard.

I could clearly see her throat move slightly through the crack of the door.

Then, after making sure Michael’s eyes were still closed, Betty extended her tongue.

Under my disbelieving gaze, her tongue gently touched the large tip of Michael’s penis.

After a light touch, her tongue swept around the entire tip.

"Oh..."

Betty’s hot, wet tongue licked the tip of Michael’s penis, eliciting an unrestrained moan from Michael, a sound of utter satisfaction.

He clearly knew what was touching him, and his expression showed no surprise but rather an expectation long held.

Meanwhile, I abruptly covered my chest with my hand, struggling to control my shaking body.

I felt a sharp pain in my chest, almost struggling to breathe.

I don’t have heart disease or asthma; apart from my reproductive system, my health is fine.

Yet, I felt suffocated and on the verge of fainting...

Why?

Betty had never performed oral sex on me, not even once.

It wasn’t that Betty was unwilling; it was I who refused.

When I was unwell, Betty was ready to sacrifice anything for me.

When I had no sexual desire, Betty offered to perform oral sex, but I always refused, believing it to be a desecration of her.

A person’s mouth, used primarily for eating, should be kept clean.

Moreover, Betty’s red lips, from which her sweet voice emanated, were sacred to me.

To me, her mouth was only for kissing; anything else was a desecration, a view that deeply moved Betty.

But now, I was witnessing Betty, whose lips I had cherished and respected, performing oral sex on another man.

During my heartache, Betty used her tongue to tease Michael’s tip a few times before opening her lips and taking in the large tip of his penis.

Because Michael’s tip was too large and Betty’s lips too small, she couldn’t fully engulf it, managing only to take in most of it, her lips reaching the ridge of Michael’s penis.

Betty savored the front part of Michael’s tip with her lips, occasionally extending her tongue to flick and sweep across his urethral opening and ridge.

At that moment, I wanted to close my eyes, to stop watching and prevent my tears from falling, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Why shouldn’t I watch?

Perhaps seeing more would help me find closure and make a final decision.