Hidden Desires - Family Secrets

Chapter 231 What are you doing... Part1 R18

Betty finally abandoned her initial shyness, turning to glare at Michael with evident anger in her eyes.

The scene was bizarre: a woman glaring at the man behind her, yet their genitals were intimately connected, creating a stark contrast between their expressions and their actions.

Michael, caught off guard by Betty's intense reaction, wore a sheepish, ingratiating smile.

"Let's just call it a day, no more time..." Betty sighed in relief upon seeing Michael's expression, but a quick glance at the clock filled her eyes with surprise and panic, ending in profound disappointment.

She turned back to Michael, explaining that his delays had cost them dearly; twenty minutes had slipped by in the blink of an eye.

Considering the time it would take to get home, she'd be later than usual, though it was still manageable.

Her tone revealed endless disappointment, her sexual frustration unmet.

After her words, Betty straightened her upper body, lifting her hands from the couch cushions while subtly wiggling her hips, seemingly signaling Michael to withdraw.

From the start, Betty had given Michael ample time; they had reserved at least half an hour.

Betty's suggestive posture perhaps hinted at a desire to hasten their conclusion, but Michael's untimely delay left them with less than ten minutes—far too brief for him.

"Ah... you're still inside... pull out..." Before Betty could fully sit up, Michael thrust again, and sensing her irritation, he quickened the pace, completing the motion in less than a tenth of a second.

Caught off guard, Betty nearly collapsed onto the couch.

Already frustrated by her unmet desires, Michael's actions only added fuel to the fire.

As Betty prepared to end their encounter, I distinctly saw a hint of jealousy and anger on Michael's face.

At that moment, the two were locked in a tense embrace, Michael firmly holding Betty's waist, his penis two-thirds deep inside her, while Betty turned to glare at him, struggling to free herself from his grasp.

"I told you to pull out... let go of me..." Realizing Michael wasn't stopping, Betty spoke again, urgency in her voice, her frustration showing as she even stamped her foot, turning her anger into a scolding without a trace of fear.

Just moments before, Michael, after much deliberation, seemed to have made a decision.

As Betty turned to scold him, his thoughts were interrupted by her sudden outburst.

He snapped back to reality, his cheeks puffed, his hands tightened around Betty's waist, and with a powerful thrust forward, he re-entered her, pushing the part he had just withdrawn back inside.

This time, he penetrated deeper, reaching three-quarters of his length, deeper than before but not yet fully in.

Betty's scream indicated that Michael's thrust had opened up part of her cervix, perhaps the tip had breached her cervical opening but not entered it.

Michael's thrust was forceful, almost reckless, driven purely by desire, devoid of any rational thought.

After inserting his penis, Michael pulled out again, leaving only the tip inside, then thrust back in forcefully.

This time, he didn't hesitate; he began to thrust rapidly, though not much faster than before, about one thrust per second, which was still slow compared to normal intercourse.

However, the force of each insertion and withdrawal was intense.

"Ah... ah... not like this... ah... oh... no... ah..." Betty screamed with each of Michael's movements, her screams tinged with pain but more so with intense stimulation.

Betty seemed unable to comprehend what was happening; perhaps her mind was overwhelmed.

She hadn't expected Michael to ignore her pleas and thrust back forcefully, thrusting deeply and slowly, each movement intense.

Michael's eyes were fierce, glowing, his cheeks bulged, lips pursed, looking almost like a fierce criminal, his penis like a dagger stabbing repeatedly into the heart of his victim.

"You... ah... pull out... ah... stop... ah... don't... not like this... ah..." Betty's hands moved back and forth on the couch cushions, trying to prop herself up, while trying to speak between screams to stop Michael.

But Michael gave her no chance to rise; each time she tried to sit up as he pulled back, he thrust forward again.

His withdrawals were gentle, saving his strength for the powerful insertions, repeatedly hitting her cervix with the tip, leaving her no chance to get up.