Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 137 What exactly had they been up to? Part5 R18

Tears streamed down my face, salty as they mingled with the taste of despair on my lips.

My beloved Betty, the sacred part of her I cherished, was now unabashedly given to another man—her own son.

This scene unfolded before my eyes on the surveillance footage, a sight I hadn’t fully witnessed because I couldn’t bring myself to watch the entire feed.

Seeing Betty’s composed demeanor and Michael’s unsurprised expression, I knew this wasn’t Michael’s first experience of this nature with her.

All I could do was purse my lips, trying to block the salty tears from entering my mouth, adding to the bitterness overwhelming me.

At this moment, I wanted to turn away, to shift my gaze elsewhere, but it was as if I were under a spell, unable to control my body, my eyes fixated on the sight of my beloved wife performing oral sex on another man, her sensual, pure lips enveloping the most sordid part of him.

My tears flowed down my cheeks, some sneaking into my mouth despite my efforts to hold them back, others traveling through my tear ducts into my nose and down my throat, each drop a testament to the bitterness within.

Unlike other men in similar situations who might erupt in rage or lose control, I stood frozen.

Another man might have burst through the door, unleashing violence on the mother and son, or grabbed a knife in a fit of rage, leading to tragic ends.

Had this been my first time witnessing such a scene, I might have lost control, but now, I was almost immune.

What used to be a scene on a screen was now happening live before me, leaving me with nothing but heartache and despair.

Inside, Betty continued her ’service’ to Michael, her cherry lips and pink tongue tenderly kissing and licking the egg-sized head of his penis, while Michael, eyes closed, reveled in the warmth of Betty’s lips.

Occasionally, Michael would stealthily open his eyes to glance at his groin, where a beautiful woman with long hair was indulging in his most unclean and repulsive organ.

Even with his eyes barely open, the look in them was full of desire and pride, even a hint of conquest.

Betty’s oral ministrations were gentle, even ladylike, her movements soft and not wild, yet this scene only deepened my sorrow.

If Betty had completely lost herself in the act, perhaps I could have found closure, but her demeanor still carried the tranquility we once shared, forcing me to confront her betrayal, a feeling that slowly suffocated me.

After about five minutes, Betty’s lips left Michael’s penis, pulling a glistening strand of saliva that stretched until she sat up, finally snapping.

This strand was so elastic, clearly not just saliva; as a man, I recognized it immediately—it was pre-ejaculate from Michael, a lubricating fluid produced during sexual arousal.

Throughout the act, Michael’s penis had been secreting this fluid, preparing for intercourse.

As Betty’s lips parted from Michael’s penis, she subtly licked her lips, taking in all the fluid she had drawn out.

Watching Betty ingest Michael’s secretion, I imagined she would swallow it down, along with the taste of Michael that came with it.

Betty meticulously licked off every trace of Michael from her lips with the tip of her tongue, then turned and spat the saliva into the trash can beside the bed.

After spitting, she repeated the action of licking her lips, trying to rid her mouth of the foreign taste.

Meanwhile, Michael, now with his eyes open, watched Betty intently as she cleaned her mouth.

A flicker of subtle disappointment crossed his eyes—perhaps he had hoped she would swallow his saliva, and her actions seemed somewhat rejecting to him.

Though the oral session had lasted about five minutes—a brief yet significant duration—it was merely an appetizer for Michael, known for his stamina.

Michael’s desire was now fully aroused, his penis engorged with blood, throbbing intensely.

His face flushed, his breathing had become rapid and heavy from the excitement, and Betty was similarly affected.

Michael’s penis continuously emitted a masculine hormone, which Betty could smell and taste, acting almost like an aphrodisiac, though her actions remained gentle, a final vestige of her dignity trying to maintain decorum.

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"Ah... Mmm..." Betty, who had been bending down to spit, suddenly let out a cry of surprise as Michael pinned her down on the bed.

Initially sitting at the edge, Betty was now lying back on the bed, her legs dangling off the side.

Michael hovered above her, his body arched at the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor, his legs pressing against hers.

His erect penis pressed against the hem of Betty’s skirt, separated only by her robe and panties from her vagina.

Caught off guard, Betty let out a soft moan, but it was quickly silenced as Michael covered her lips with his, not minding the taste of her mouth.

He kissed her passionately, her cherry lips reshaping under his fervent kisses, re-moistening what had been dried by her spitting.

"Michael... get off... Mmm..."

After a moment, Michael’s lips left hers, only to plant kisses across her cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin, allowing Betty to speak again.

Meanwhile, Betty pushed against Michael’s chest, but he was firmly on top of her, making it impossible for her hands to find space between them.

Even without exerting force, Michael’s weight alone was enough to keep her pinned.

As Betty began to voice her refusal, Michael’s lips found hers again, effectively silencing her words.

Betty’s hands, unable to reach between their bodies, clenched into fists, lightly pounding on Michael’s back—a gesture more akin to a massage or an embrace, pulling him closer.

Betty had one more option: a sharp knee thrust upward could hit Michael’s testicles—a notoriously vulnerable spot for men.

If Betty employed this move, Michael would surely release her, clutching his groin in pain.

But would Betty do that? Could she bring herself to hurt her own son, who was violating her?

"Michael... stop... not tonight... Ah... if you keep... doing this... Mom’s... getting angry..."

Betty’s face showed resistance, her eyes shut as she turned her head from side to side, not of her own volition but because Michael was shifting his kisses along her neck, forcing her to inadvertently dodge his advances.

Betty, overwhelmed by Michael’s kisses, began to breathe heavily, her body gradually softening under his relentless affection, her initial resistance fading as desire began to rise within her.