Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 139 The moment was ripe for the next step Part2 R18

I slowly moved my feet, my legs stiff and numb, as if they no longer belonged to me.

I wasn’t heading towards the house’s main door but towards Michael’s room instead.

I didn’t know why I felt compelled to go there, my steps stiff and faltering.

With each step, Michael’s door drew nearer, and the sounds of Michael and Betty’s heavy breathing, along with Betty’s occasional nasal moans, grew louder.

What was I doing? Was I just trying to get a closer look, to see more clearly?

But as I approached, stopping less than a meter from the door, I hesitated, perhaps fearing discovery by the two inside, or maybe because getting any closer would make the sights and sounds unbearably clear.

I was just a meter away from the door, close enough to touch it, to open it.

I could even feel the heat wafting through the crack, the heat of Betty and Michael’s bodies, their heavy breathing brushing against my face with a hormone-laden warmth.

I watched the intimate scene between mother and son, my beloved wife under another man.

I wanted to push the door open, but my hands wouldn’t move, perhaps a part of me didn’t want to shatter the peace.

How could I face Betty if I burst in? Would I be heartbroken, furious, or violent?

Throughout our marriage, Betty and I had loved each other deeply.

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She had stood by me during my toughest times, never despising me for my infertility.

I had never even raised my voice at her, let alone struck her.

Should I hate her? I couldn’t.

If it were any other woman, she might have left me long ago.

From an outsider’s perspective, perhaps Betty had already done more than enough for me.

Seeking her own happiness was her right, and even if she sought it in the arms of another, it was a matter of morals, not legality.

I couldn’t bring myself to hate her.

Nor could I hate Michael.

Was this the universe’s way of having Laura’s spirit claim a debt through her son?

The cost, however, was far too great.

With these thoughts, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, trying to stop the tears.

But they came anyway, streaming down my face.

Suddenly, Betty’s moan snapped me out of my reverie, a moan unlike her usual soft murmurs.

I instinctively opened my eyes, blurred with tears.

Inside, I saw a change had occurred.

Michael had moved his hand under Betty’s buttocks.

Betty was lying on the bed, her buttocks one of the main pressure points of her body, pressed firmly against the mattress.

Michael’s sudden, rough insertion of his hand under her made Betty let out an unusual moan.

His hand wasn’t caressing as I had imagined.

I saw his wrist twist a few times, unsure of what was happening under Betty’s ample buttocks, but as Betty furrowed her brow again, Michael’s hand moved, and so did her panties.

Betty’s mouth was covered by Michael, muffling any other sounds, but her tightly furrowed brow showed her inner turmoil.

Her hands, initially pushing against Michael’s body, quickly moved down to grasp the edge of her panties at her hips.

By then, Michael had already pulled her panties down halfway, exposing her rounded buttocks.

Betty managed to hook her fingers around the edge of her panties just in time, temporarily halting their descent.

Michael noticed Betty’s resistance but showed no signs of displeasure or surprise, as if he had anticipated her reaction.

It’s often said that the quickest way to a woman’s heart is through her vagina, and after so many encounters, it seemed Michael and Betty had developed a deep understanding.

Michael’s hand, trapped under Betty’s buttocks, began to tease her pussy through her panties, tracing the swollen outline of her labia.

"Ah... no... ah," Betty moaned.

Michael’s upper body pressed down on Betty, and he moved his mouth away from hers, freeing her lips to speak.

Betty managed to utter a single "no," followed by continuous moans, as Michael’s other hand relentlessly stimulated her now soaking wet pussy.

At this point, Betty no longer spoke words of resistance; the only sign of refusal might have been her hands still hooked on her panties.

However, Michael’s hand was too cunning, continuously stimulating Betty’s pussy, leaving her no free hands to stop his mischievous movements as he increased the intensity of his touches.

"Ah... oh..."

With a peculiar moan from Betty, her hands finally let go of the panties and reached for Michael’s hand that was stimulating her.

It’s no wonder Betty abandoned her panties to stop Michael’s hand; moments before, Michael’s index finger had slipped inside her pussy through her panties, inserting a finger and causing a massive surge of stimulation that threw Betty into a panic, ultimately causing her to release her grip on her panties, playing right into what might have been Michael’s calculated ’trap.’

The hand Betty grabbed continued to stimulate her pussy, while the hand previously trapped under her buttocks gained new strength, quickly and precisely pulling her panties down below her buttocks, revealing her smooth, delicate buttocks.

"Uh..."

Feeling her panties slipping out of control, Betty moaned softly but said nothing more, seeming ever closer to resignation, with only the upper part of her panties still covering her pubic hair and pussy.

Noticing the panties had been pulled down, the hand that had been teasing Betty’s pussy changed tactics, hooking one side of her panties, while the hand that had been under her buttocks withdrew and hooked the other side.

Both hands worked together, and Betty’s panties were swiftly removed, exposing her sparse pubic hair and pink labia, revealing the most intimate parts of her anatomy, parts that were once exclusively mine.

Just as her panties came off, they encountered a new problem; because Betty’s legs were spread, her panties got stuck between her thighs and knees.

Moreover, Michael’s legs were wedged between Betty’s, blocking the panties from being pulled down past her knees, inadvertently creating a barrier between Michael’s penis and Betty’s pussy with the panties perfectly obstructing their intimate contact.

Watching this scene from outside the door, my heart burned with a mix of emotions, my breathing rapid, not from arousal or excitement, but from overwhelming tension.

Although I had seen Betty in compromising situations on video, witnessing it live and direct was different.

If I saw Betty being penetrated by Michael, I couldn’t predict how I’d react, my emotions were unpredictable, driven by the heart.

Seeing their intercourse momentarily thwarted by the panties, a glimmer of hope rose in my heart.