ushernet Chapter 154 Mom, what are you doing? Ouch... Part2 R18
Chapter 154 Mom, what are you doing? Ouch... Part2 R18
Michael clutched the back of his head as he stood up, sucking in a sharp breath of air—it was clear he was dazed.
In moments of panic, people often exhibit strength they normally don't possess.
The usually frail Betty, in her urgency, had managed to kick Michael so far away.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice now free of any reproach, filled only with concern.
After all, Michael had recently suffered a head injury, and the back of the head is particularly vulnerable.
"Ouch..." Michael groaned, holding the back of his head as Betty helped him to the bed.
Throughout this ordeal, his penis remained exposed, now completely flaccid due to the pain, coated with a thick layer of love fluids—a mix of Michael's seminal fluid and Betty's vaginal secretions.
As Betty moved him, she couldn't help but notice his penis, still wet with her fluids, which made her cheeks flush with a renewed blush.
Betty moved behind Michael, examining the swelling on the back of his head—a normal bodily reaction to such an impact.
She tenderly massaged his head, relieved to see that aside from the pain, he showed no other alarming symptoms.
"Mom, what got into you? You didn't have to hit that hard..." Michael's voice was now devoid of the earlier sexual frenzy, filled instead with hurt and a touch of sadness.
It seemed Betty's actions had deeply upset him.
"Did you hear the door close just now?" Betty suddenly remembered the incident as Michael spoke, her voice tense with worry.
"Yeah, what about it?" Michael responded nonchalantly.
"What? You heard it too? Then why... could it be Dad's back?" Betty's hands trembled with fear, forgetting to massage Michael's head as she rushed to his side, her voice filled with anxiety.
"What are you talking about? He's back? I hear the neighbors' doors every night, and sometimes even my bed shakes a little. What's so strange about that?" Michael looked puzzled as he explained to Betty.
Realizing the truth in Michael's words, Betty recalled hearing similar sounds at night when she was home alone.
The loud, deep sounds of doors shutting were not uncommon.
Relieved, she let out a long sigh, feeling much lighter.
"Does it still hurt?" Betty asked as she resumed massaging Michael's head, now more relaxed knowing no one had entered the house.
Her attention shifted back to Michael.
To understand the scene better, I rewound the surveillance footage and watched again, this time focusing on Michael.
As he lunged forward, his arms wrapped around Betty, one hand caressing her while the other lifted her nightgown.
Caught off guard by his question, Betty froze, lost in thought, allowing Michael to continue unimpeded.
He pulled down her panties just enough, positioning her body forward, her buttocks protruding against his groin.
With her panties slightly down, Betty's vagina was perfectly aligned with Michael's penis, both in position and angle, ready for entry.
From the moment Michael embraced Betty to the penetration, it took merely 14 seconds.
Despite their prolonged sexual activity, Betty's vagina remained moist, not drying out like Michael's penis had in the open air.
With just a slight adjustment of her panties, Michael's hand switched from pulling them down to grasping his penis.
With a single thrust, he entered her smoothly, aided by the lubrication from their previous lovemaking.
By the time Betty realized, they were already intimately connected, their genitals tightly joined.
"Slap, slap, slap..." the sound echoed as Michael penetrated Betty, his face revealing sheer pleasure.
Betty's vagina was tight and slick, a perfect haven for his long-neglected penis.
Once inside, Michael, perhaps fearing Betty might struggle again, started with a rapid, storm-like thrusting.
His hips pounded against Betty's buttocks, causing waves of flesh to ripple, her body rocking back and forth from the force of his thrusts.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah..."
Betty tried to maintain her composure, not wanting to moan, but Michael's penis was simply too hard, too long, and too thick.
Its robust shaft filled every inch of her vagina, and with each thrust, it rubbed tightly against her vaginal walls.
Added to that was Michael's youthful, vigorous stamina, which made it impossible for Betty to hold back any longer.
She began to moan uncontrollably, perhaps moved by Michael's promises, perhaps guilt-ridden from having hurt him earlier, or perhaps because Betty truly needed this.
This time, Betty did not struggle; all that was left was to enjoy the sex, enduring Michael's repeated thrusts from behind.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Betty, who was lost in the throes of passion with her eyes closed and continuously moaning, her husband was wandering the streets alone, nursing a drink.
At that moment, his heart was shattered, his tears dried up...