After a brief pause, Betty began to wash Michael's underwear, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassnt.
She scrubbed his underwear with more force than necessary, and once she regained her composure, she seed to harbor so resentnt towards herself.
It's funny how contradictory humans can be.
She spent a long ti 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.
anwhile, Michael stretched lazily, a satisfied smile on his face.
He was quite pleased with tonight's achievents.
Not only had he confird the existence of the surveillance system, but he had also gained control over it.
Most importantly, he had confird sothing about Betty's attitude.
Though it had been a long ti, 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 sowhat 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 .
However, having heard her moans with Michael through the surveillance, I realized how fake her moans with sounded.
She might not have noticed, but I knew she was just putting on a show to comfort and encourage .
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.
In those two years, if we were intimate about fifty tis, I was successful in reaching climax less than ten tis.
Since Betty ended things with Michael, her body has beco increasingly sensitive.
Now, without much foreplay, her lower regions beco 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 beca moist and lubricated.
But after we got back together, I noticed a change the first ti we were intimate.
Just a slight touch or caress at her sensitive spots was enough to make her extrely wet, and I could penetrate her effortlessly.
Each thrust would now produce squelching sounds of our wetness, sothing unimaginable before her ti with Michael.
It's clear that Michael had changed Betty's body.
Seeing Betty just now confird 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 mories.
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 tis; 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 disappointnt this ti; 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 seed.
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 mories she was now reliving, mories of a satisfaction she hadn't felt in a long ti.
As ti 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 not at ho 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 seed the real drama was just beginning.
I, too, was watching the sa scene on my laptop, but Michael and I were not using the sa surveillance system, nor were we in the sa place.
After rubbing her legs for a while, Betty's complexion seed to flush, though the infrared cara 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 monts with Michael?
Perhaps she had been trying to avoid these thoughts, wishing never to rember them again.
Why recall them now?
Only a lack of sexual fulfillnt 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 bla 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 blad for not being able to et 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 beca 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.
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