Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 261 I could see all this, but what about Michael?

After a brief pause, Betty began to wash Michael’s underwear, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment.

She scrubbed his underwear with more force than necessary, and once she regained her composure, she seemed to harbor some resentment towards herself.

It’s funny how contradictory humans can be.

She spent a long time washing Michael’s underwear, unsure if she wanted to make them extra clean for Michael or if she simply wanted to prolong her contact with them.

Once Betty had finished washing all the clothes, she retreated to her room to rest.

Meanwhile, Michael stretched lazily, a satisfied smile on his face.

He was quite pleased with tonight’s achievements.

Not only had he confirmed the existence of the surveillance system, but he had also gained control over it.

Most importantly, he had confirmed something about Betty’s attitude.

Though it had been a long time, the way Betty had sniffed his underwear told Michael all he needed to know about her deep-seated desires and her longing for him, which she likely would keep buried deep within her, never to be revealed to anyone else.

But for Michael, this was enough.

Knowing this, he felt assured that he still had a significant chance with her.

After all, it’s much easier to develop a relationship with a woman who harbors hidden desires and a bit of a wild side than with a woman who is staunchly virtuous.

As for Betty’s recent actions, I was somewhat disappointed, yet it was within my expectations.

My body has issues; I’ve never been able to fully satisfy Betty, especially after learning about my infertility, which has severely impacted my confidence and sexual performance.

During the two years Michael was away, Betty and I rarely engaged intimately.

Even when I was in the mood, I would exert myself, and Betty would moan in ecstasy, seemingly in sync with me.

However, having heard her moans with Michael through the surveillance, I realized how fake her moans with me sounded.

She might not have noticed, but I knew she was just putting on a show to comfort and encourage me.

Once I recognized the falsehood in Betty’s moans, my insecurities would kick in, and I’d lose interest midway, ending up limp and pushed out by her.

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In those two years, if we were intimate about fifty times, I was successful in reaching climax less than ten times.

Since Betty ended things with Michael, her body has become increasingly sensitive.

Now, without much foreplay, her lower regions become very wet.

When we first got married, I had to engage in lengthy foreplay, and it would take a while of rubbing at the entrance before I could slowly penetrate her.

Initially, it was quite dry, and I needed to thrust gently for a while before she became moist and lubricated.

But after we got back together, I noticed a change the first time we were intimate.

Just a slight touch or caress at her sensitive spots was enough to make her extremely wet, and I could penetrate her effortlessly.

Each thrust would now produce squelching sounds of our wetness, something unimaginable before her time with Michael.

It’s clear that Michael had changed Betty’s body.

Seeing Betty just now confirmed a thought I had long been reluctant to admit: deep down, she had never forgotten her feelings for Michael.

Her experiences with Michael had left a permanent imprint on her mind, altering her body’s sensitivity and her knowledge of sexual pleasure, intensifying her desires.

While Michael was away, she could control her body since he wasn’t around to stir her thoughts.

But now that Michael is back, and just next door, the scent of his underwear has rekindled those familiar feelings, bringing back all her memories.

Her sexual desires may have reached new heights with Michael, but I am unable to satisfy her.

In her dreams, she has been with Michael countless times; I just didn’t know it.

Perhaps when Betty and I make love, she’s thinking of Michael, which might explain why she gets aroused so quickly.

I held onto a sliver of hope, but seeing Betty sniff Michael’s underwear shattered it completely.

That small detail revealed so much.

Betty, clad in her nightgown, returned to her bedroom but hesitated briefly before locking the door for safety.

Given her past experiences and my absence, she felt the need to secure herself against Michael, whom she couldn’t resist two years ago and certainly couldn’t resist now.

Michael noticed Betty locking the door but didn’t show disappointment this time; instead, a smirk played on his lips.

He knew that patience was key.

The fact that Betty had sniffed his underwear was enough to erase any negative emotions he might have felt.

Betty’s action of locking the door highlighted her inner turmoil and fears, indicating her resolve might not be as firm as it seemed.

I could see all this, but what about Michael?

Betty lay in bed, dressed in her nightgown, while Michael sat in another room, observing her through his laptop.

Betty’s eyes were closed, but her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly, occasionally furrowing her brow.

The scent of Michael’s underwear might have triggered memories she was now reliving, memories of a satisfaction she hadn’t felt in a long time.

As time passed, Betty’s breathing grew more rapid, and her long, white legs began to press together, slowly rubbing against each other.

On such a night, with me not at home and Betty alone in her bedroom, no one could see her.

She could indulge in whatever she desired, like caressing herself and masturbating, thinking no one knew.

She wanted to satisfy her darker urges, unaware that the very man she was recalling was watching her every move...

Michael continued to watch on his screen.

Although Betty had turned off the lights and lay down, the story was far from over; it seemed the real drama was just beginning.

I, too, was watching the same scene on my laptop, but Michael and I were not using the same surveillance system, nor were we in the same place.

After rubbing her legs for a while, Betty’s complexion seemed to flush, though the infrared camera couldn’t clearly show the color of her face.

However, it was evident that her face was redder, and beads of sweat, shining like tiny pearls under the light, appeared on her forehead.

What was Betty recalling in her mind?

Was she reliving those regrettable moments with Michael?

Perhaps she had been trying to avoid these thoughts, wishing never to remember them again.

Why recall them now?

Only a lack of sexual fulfillment and an urgent need could drive her to this state.

Seeing Betty in such a state, I harbored no ill feelings towards her; I didn’t blame her.

After all, she’s a woman with normal physiological needs.

It’s natural for a person to have sexual desires unless they’re asexual.

Because of my physical limitations, I’ve always felt I’ve wronged Betty, preventing her from achieving satisfaction.

If Betty is experiencing this, I should be blamed for not being able to meet her needs.

In truth, I owe Betty for my shortcomings, and that’s one of the reasons I can’t stop thinking about her.

After rubbing her legs for a while, Betty’s breathing became even more labored.

She slowly opened her eyes, and in the darkness, her watery, large eyes reflected a faint glow, beautiful even in the shadows.