ushernet Chapter 080 Betty was constantly on guard
Chapter 080 Betty was constantly on guard
"I'm partly to blame for all this," Betty confessed, her voice thick with turmoil.
"That night, I just didn't want to embarrass you."
"I didn't know how to face you, afraid that waking up would hurt your pride."
"I thought you'd know where to draw the line, but I ended up sending you the wrong signals... What should I do now?"
Her voice faltered, the weight of the consequences tangling her thoughts even more, pushing her to the brink of tears.
"Mom, don't cry," Michael interjected, his voice firm despite the quiver of uncertainty.
He clenched his teeth, mustering a facade of resolve.
"When Dad comes back, just blame it all on me."
"Say I drugged you... that I... I forced myself on you."
"I won't let you suffer or be hurt."
Watching Michael adopt this manly stance, I felt a twinge of disgust from behind my computer screen.
Yet, Betty was visibly stunned, her face a mix of surprise and confusion.
Could it be that Michael had so easily swayed her?
"The responsibility isn't yours; you're still a child," Betty finally responded after a moment, a bitter smile playing on her lips as she shook her head.
"It's my fault for not guiding you properly, for giving you the wrong impression."
She regarded Michael's earlier words as mere child's play, thinking how naive and simple she would be to be moved by them.
"Let's not talk about this anymore."
"I'll continue tutoring you tomorrow."
"You should get some rest now, especially since the weekend is coming up..."
With that, Betty gathered Michael's homework and test papers and left his bedroom.
She made her way to her own room, making sure to lock her door behind her.
Left alone, Michael sat in his study chair, lost in thought for a long while.
When he heard the sound of Betty locking her door, his lips tightened—a clear sign of his heartache over her defensive actions.
Betty, after locking the door, paused and looked back with a hint of reluctance in her eyes.
Betty sat by her bed for a long time, lost in her thoughts, before she began to go through Michael's homework and test papers.
He was biding his time, waiting for another opportunity to claim Betty.
It's a primal instinct, a dangerous game of desire.
When the water stopped, Michael quickly retreated and lay back on his bed.
Betty, after her shower, dressed in fresh undergarments and her thick formal wear before stepping out.
The trauma of that night had left a deep mark; she was constantly on guard.
Even for the short walk from the bathroom to her bedroom, Betty remained fully dressed.
She even peeked through a crack in the door before opening it, fearful of finding Michael waiting outside.
Once back in her room, Betty finally felt safe enough to change into her pajamas and relax into a much-needed sleep.
It's worth noting that Betty, usually meticulous about cleanliness, had gone a week without showering out of fear.
But tonight, fortified by her precautions, she finally allowed herself the comfort of a bath.
After about two hours, it was well past midnight.
Betty had already drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the day's events, while Michael suddenly woke up.
Groggy and disoriented, he got out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, awakened by the urgent need to pee.
In a haze, Michael made his way to the bathroom, where he took out his flaccid yet impressively large penis to urinate.
As he finished, his sleepy eyes suddenly brightened.
He had spotted the washing machine right next to the toilet, with several old clothes draped over its edge.
Those were Betty's old clothes.
Beneath them, there was a set of old underwear that Betty had changed out of before her bath.
Betty usually waited until she had enough clothes for a full load before running the washing machine, so it was common for her to pile them inside or on top of it.
In the past, Betty would casually drape her underwear over the machine, and back then, Michael could feast his eyes on her, even sneaking touches and kisses at night, eventually taking what he wanted without restraint.
Back then, Betty's nightwear barely caught Michael's interest; a mere glance was enough since he could always see and touch her up close when they shared a bed at night.
But things were different now.
Betty was constantly on guard, dressing conservatively and even locking her bedroom door at night.
It felt like, "After decades of freedom, back to square one."
Michael found himself without any opportunity to get close as he used to.