Chapter 157 Michael... stop... Part1 R18
Chapter 157 Michael... stop... Part1 R18
"Thud, thud, thud..." The sounds of their union filled the room once more, the only difference being that this time, instead of the hard floor, they were on a soft bed.
The bed's softness made their movements easier and more synchronized.
From below, one could see Michael's penis moving in and out of Betty's buttocks, her fluids dripping down onto the bed.
Betty's first climax had passed, and now a new journey had begun.
Impatient, I clicked the fast-forward button, cycling through positions: doggy style, missionary, and finally, the woman on top.
It seemed they were trying every position imaginable, and Betty appeared more uninhibited than ever, perhaps to fulfill a promise, willing to meet all demands.
I paused the video, wondering if they would try the one position left unexplored, which could reveal much about their dynamics.
Would Michael suggest it?
Would Betty agree?
At that moment, Betty lay back on the bed, her legs curled and spread apart, with Michael's strong, dark figure thrusting into her.
Her hands tugged at the sheets beside her as Michael's lips moved across her face, neck, collarbone, and breasts.
The position I had thought of was the woman on top, a posture requiring the woman to sit astride the man, controlling the rhythm.
If Betty agreed to this, it would indicate her complete surrender.
I waited for Michael to propose the change, as he had done with previous positions, but he hesitated.
Was he unsure if Betty would consent?
As time ticked by, Michael brought Betty to another climax in the missionary position before they paused, the room falling silent.
Betty lay back, her lips parted, legs slightly raised, her arms tightly around Michael's neck, pressing his face into her breasts.
Her body convulsed with her second orgasm, silent yet intense, more so than the first.
Exhausted, she could no longer moan.
When Betty's legs finally fell back to the bed and her arms released Michael's neck, the climax subsided.
Michael kissed her neck tenderly, but curiously avoided her lips.
Betty lay spent, like a rag doll, on the now thoroughly soaked bed.
After a few minutes, Michael prepared to resume.
He slid his hands under Betty's back, lifting her upper body as her legs stretched forward.
He maneuvered between her legs and finally sat on the bed, with Betty sitting on his lap, their intimate parts still connected.
He suddenly lay back, pulling Betty along by her hands.
As she was already sitting on his thighs, they naturally shifted into the woman-on-top position as Michael reclined.
This position, which I had feared they might use, was now a reality, though not initiated by Betty.
The formation of this position was a testament to Michael's cunning, achieved without Betty's explicit consent and without force.
It seemed a well-thought-out strategy by Michael.
Reflecting on the entire process, Michael's initial hesitation might have been him considering this move.
He dared not ask Betty directly to switch to the woman-on-top position, so he prepared by embracing her face-to-face.
His kiss on her lips was partly because he cherished that part of her and partly a test of her state and psychological boundaries.
With everything in place, he dared to lie back and naturally transition into the position.
Once Michael lay down, there was no pause.
With a forceful thrust of his hips, Betty was propelled upward.
When her body fell back down, her hips met Michael's with a crisp slap.
Betty kept her eyes closed, her body limp, unwilling to face Michael.
Though she felt something unusual as Michael lay down, she did not open her eyes.
But when they resumed their movements after a brief pause, Betty finally sensed something was amiss.
First, she did not feel Michael's chest against hers; second, the angle of his thrusts felt different.
"Thud..." With a tentative thrust, Michael began a series of continuous, forceful movements.
Now, not expecting Betty to actively ride him, he gripped her hands and thrust his hips upward, driving his penis deep into her.
As Michael's thrusts persisted, Betty's body bounced rhythmically, her full breasts leaping up and down.
Her pink nipples and areolas traced erratic circles in the air.
This position was a true test of Michael's stamina, as he had to not only thrust his hips but also support Betty's entire body weight.
Most men might manage a few thrusts but couldn't sustain it for long.
At this moment, Michael's physical endurance shone through.
Watching his expression during the thrusts, there was no hint of strain or fatigue; instead, he seemed exhilarated by the challenge.
"Michael... stop... you... don't... ah..."
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