Hidden Desires - Family Secrets

I discovered Michael's penis was slowly penetrating deeper into Betty's vagina with each thrust, each one deeper than the last.

Initially, it was halfway, then three-quarters, and finally almost entirely.

With a crisp snap, Michael's hips finally met Betty's buttocks with no space left between them.

At that moment, the sound echoed as Michael stopped thrusting, pressing his hips tightly against Betty's, his penis fully nailed into her.

At this point, Michael's glans had penetrated deep into Betty's womb, the very place of life's inception.

From behind, Michael's penis was no longer visible, completely enveloped by Betty's vagina, with only his testicles hanging close, his scrotum resting against her vulval entrance.

"Ah...Ah...Ah..." Betty's head threw back in a desperate scream as Michael fully entered her.

Her hair cascaded down as her face, previously obscured, now revealed tightly closed eyes and furrowed brows, tears streaming down, a mix of pain, stimulation, or something more.

Betty's arms, propped on the couch, and her legs on the floor, trembled rapidly and rhythmically as she reached her climax, her first but possibly not her last of the day.

Michael had brought Betty to her peak with just a few forceful thrusts.

Was this a record? The shortest time, the fewest thrusts, to bring a woman not particularly sensitive to sexual pleasure to such heights.

Noticing Betty's climax, a proud smile crossed Michael's face, satisfied with his sexual prowess and proud of Betty's intense reaction.

He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was 4:33 PM, well past the time Betty was supposed to leave.

Michael took a deep breath, lifted Betty's limp waist slightly, her body now like a small boat wildly tossed by the waves of the sea under Michael's powerful thrusts.

"Thump, thump, thump..." Michael, supporting Betty's waist, resumed his rapid and intense thrusting, fully withdrawing and then plunging in deeply with each stroke.

His hairy hips continuously slammed against Betty's pale, round buttocks, stirring waves and emitting loud, crisp sounds of flesh colliding.

Betty's vagina was like a road being endlessly expanded and explored by Michael, the worker, making it longer and wider.

Betty covered her mouth with one hand, muffling her cries that sounded almost like sobs.

The area was secluded, soundproofed so well that even if Betty screamed her lungs out, likely no one would hear.

Yet, she forcefully covered her mouth, perhaps as a form of protest, the only one she could muster.

Thanks to Michael's robust stamina, maintaining high-speed thrusts while holding up Betty's slender waist, if not for his support, Betty would have collapsed onto the couch.

Betty's knees were visibly weak, her legs devoid of strength, entirely supported by Michael lifting her body.

One hand on the couch, the other over her mouth, Betty seemed determined not to let Michael's actions succeed, or perhaps this was the only protest she could manage.

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Michael tightly gripped Betty's waist, relentlessly driving his thick penis into the deepest parts of her vagina.

The area where their genitals met was a splash zone of sexual fluids, Michael's penis acting like a pump, drawing out fluid after fluid from the deep well of Betty's vagina.

The fluids, once extracted, were flung by Michael's thrusting hips and scrotum onto their thighs, pubic hair, and the floor, marking everywhere with traces of their lovemaking.

Gradually, as the fluids splashed, the sounds of their bodies colliding changed.

The crisp "thump, thump, thump" mixed with the sticky "squelch, squelch, squelch" of the lubricating fluids, all these sounds and movements composing the crescendo of their sexual symphony.

Betty, reluctantly covering her mouth, her eyes wide open, not closed, wanted to turn to look at the clock on the wall but no longer had the courage.

Even if her sense of time was off, she knew it was late.

Betty had to face reality, her body swaying under Michael's forceful thrusts from behind.

Her head turned towards the clock on the wall; it was already 4:45 AM.

Time had slipped away, irreversible.

Tears slowly began to stream down Betty's cheeks, whether from the sexual thrill Michael provided or the bitterness of fleeting time, she couldn't tell.

Betty gazed helplessly at the clock, her body rocking back and forth.

She wanted to leave, she wanted to go home, but the master of her body was firmly restricting her freedom, leaving her powerless.

Her hand was still tightly covering her mouth, but her increasingly rapid breathing through her nose indicated that it was insufficient for her needs.

Michael sensed Betty's condition.

Perhaps there was a tacit understanding between them; he knew why she felt this way.

Although annoyed, he was helpless and then seemed to think of something.

He gradually slowed his pace, and the amplitude of his thrusts changed.

After slowing down, he withdrew most of his penis, leaving just the tip inside her, and began to rub it quickly but gently against the entrance of her vagina.

Each time he only inserted less than two inches, using the tip to continuously and rapidly rub against her.

Without the full sensation, Betty involuntarily sighed, her hand still covering her mouth as she took a deep breath through her nose.

Although the large tip still stimulated her greatly, it was at least not as intense as before, giving her a brief moment to rest.

Betty seemed resigned to her fate, knowing there was no escape today.

She watched the clock slowly close her eyes, squeezing out the last tear.

Her face turned forward, and the hand that had covered her mouth fell to her side, her hands now bracing against the couch as she breathed heavily, as if she had just sprinted a hundred meters to the finish line.

Michael saw that Betty had lowered her hands and was resting, a sly smile creeping across his face.

Suddenly, a sound akin to a fart echoed in the living room.

Michael had been making small thrusts, but after letting Betty adjust to this rhythm, he unexpectedly thrust his penis back in fully and rapidly, like a sprinter dashing to the finish line.

His hips collided with Betty's buttocks, and his penis reached the deepest part of her vagina, braking abruptly.

During the small thrusts, the emptiness in Betty's vagina had just managed to fill with air, which was now forcefully squeezed out by Michael's sudden deep thrust, causing their tightly connected sexual organs to emit a loud, lewd noise reminiscent of a fart in the room.

"Ah.." Betty's hand, previously covering her mouth, dropped, and she was caught off guard by Michael's fierce insertion.

Unprepared, a high-pitched scream escaped her throat.

Her head, which had been bowed in resignation, suddenly lifted, her eyes tightly shut, tears streaming down her face.

Her hands gripping the couch's cover began to tremble slightly, and her legs also began to shake, gradually losing their last bit of strength as she slowly knelt down.

Michael seemed uninterested in supporting her body, allowing Betty to kneel down on her own.

Betty reached her second climax in a short period, while Michael, though physically exerted, breathed heavily but steadily.

Sweat beaded on his dark, muscular body, making him look like a fierce warrior.

After Michael's intense impact, Betty's legs had already been pressed against the edge of the couch.

As she slowly knelt down, her knees pressed into the couch.

Michael noticed this and exerted his strength to help Betty, her knees slowly kneeling on the couch, her hands having nowhere else to go but slowly up, bracing against the back of the couch.

Betty was now out of strength, seeking the least exhausting position and posture.

She slowly crawled forward, like a severely wounded person, continuously moving forward, trying to escape the increasingly close "pursuer" behind her.

Although she knew it was futile, she didn't give up the last bit of hope.

However, for every inch she moved forward, Michael's penis pushed an inch further.

When Betty's upper body pressed against the back of the couch, she had no escape left.