Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 276 What was Betty’s current state?

"Click..." Before Michael could even react, another sound echoed through the silence. This time, Michael understood; he quickly stashed the medicine bottle under his pillow and turned to sit on the edge of the bed.

The first sound was the neighboring room's door unlocking, and now, it was the door creaking open.

Why was Betty leaving her bedroom? Was it just to use the bathroom, or was she heading to his room? Michael tensed up, sitting rigidly on the bed's edge.

"Click..." Another door opened, startling Michael. He thought it was his own door that Betty was opening. His eyes fixed on his door, which remained firmly shut.

"Sigh..." He exhaled deeply, relieved to realize Betty had gone to the bathroom.

Sitting in front of my computer, I observed everything unfolding. I also noticed the recent activities in our rooms.

Betty had been restless in bed for a long time, her hands roaming her heated, feverish body, her breathing rapid as if she were gasping for air. Her desire only intensified after her attempt at self-pleasure, which, far from quenching her lust, seemed to stoke it even further.

Her rationality slowly faded, her eyes filled with desire and confusion, though a shred of sanity still held her back.

Finally, she got up from the bed, her steps unsteady. She covered her chest with her hands as she walked to the door, her hands trembling as she turned the lock and opened it. She glanced around the living room before her gaze settled on Michael's bedroom door.

Her brows furrowed in a fierce internal struggle.

Her body screamed for satisfaction, but her fingers were no match for her raging desire. What she needed was the touch of a real man, and that possibility was just steps away in the next room. Yet, her mind still exerted some control.

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Her libido had been exceptionally high these past few days, so tonight's restlessness didn't surprise her. Perhaps she thought her body was reacting to Michael's presence, though Michael certainly hadn't intended for Betty to witness his state.

It was all a series of coincidences, and she blamed herself for not being able to control her urges. Her husband hadn't truly satisfied her in two years, not once had she enjoyed a real climax.

"Click..." Betty shifted her gaze from Michael's door and opened the bathroom door next to our bedroom, then stepped inside.

"Whoosh..." Betty didn't even bother to remove her nightgown or underwear; she just turned on the shower, letting the cold water cascade down her body.

The water soaked her hair and drenched her loose nightgown, clinging to her skin.

The outlines of her bra and panties became visible, accentuating her voluptuous buttocks and breasts, the cleavage tantalizingly evident.

On the other side, Michael heard the sound of running water and quietly sighed in relief, guessing that Betty had gone to shower to douse her burning desires. He also noticed that Betty hadn't locked the bathroom door.

I saw it too, but couldn't tell if Betty's failure to lock the door was intentional or not. After entering, she quickly closed the door and reached for the shower, turning it on without a second thought. Perhaps Betty had decided not to lock the door before entering, giving Michael a chance as well as herself, letting fate take its course.

Michael, aware that Betty hadn't locked the door, wasn't sure if it was deliberate. However, he was certain that entering the bathroom now, despite likely facing verbal resistance, would meet little physical opposition from her. In fact, he did just that.

Michael, caught up in a surge of excitement, quickly stripped off his pajama top and tossed it under the bed.

He then hurriedly began to remove his pajama bottoms, almost too eagerly, but paused abruptly when they reached his thighs, revealing his dense pubic hair.

Why did he stop? After a long hesitation, he pulled his pajama bottoms back up, though he left the top off.

He turned and lay back on the bed, eyes closed, trying to steady his heavy breathing and calm his racing heart. It seemed he reached a state of tranquility, where his mind cooled and his breathing gradually evened out.

The erection that had threatened to tear through his pajama bottoms slowly subsided, the tent in his lap disappearing as everything returned to calm, except for the ongoing sound of water from the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, Betty continued to drench herself under the cold shower, but the icy water did nothing to quench her burning desire. Her body remained flushed, her breathing rapid as she let the water wash over her.

What kind of drug could be so potent? It seemed almost narcotic in its effect, and I couldn't imagine what kind of impact it might have on Betty's body or if it would leave any lasting effects.

"Sss..." With a soft noise, she turned off the water, and the flow ceased. Her nightgown and underwear clung tightly to her body, outlining her form. She leaned against the wall, one hand on her chest, panting heavily, her breaths echoing in the room. Her wet hair and clothes stuck to her skin, presenting a flawless image of wet allure. It was fortunate that Michael hadn't entered; such a sight would be irresistible to any male.

After resting against the wall for a moment, Betty slowly made her way to the bathroom door, her feet bare. She seemed slightly dazed as she fumbled with the lock, twisting it several times before realizing she hadn't locked the door at all.

This detail confirmed to me that her failure to lock the door was unintentional, a result of her hazed state.

"Click..." Betty opened the door and stepped out barefoot, leaving wet footprints behind her.

After exiting the bathroom, she stood at the doorway, her breathing less intense than before but still uneven. She held one hand to her chest and ran the other through her damp hair.

At that moment, Betty seemed like a nymph just emerged from a bath, trying to tame her disheveled hair.

"Whew..." Betty's lips parted slightly, her face tilted upward, eyes half-closed, as if she was floating on clouds, reveling in a blissful sensation.

Had the cold water neutralized the drug's effect? It seemed unlikely, given the potency of the drug and Betty's reactions. If it had been that easy to counteract, it would have been strange.

So, if it wasn't the drug wearing off, what was Betty's current state? I recalled a saying, "What goes up must come down," suggesting that when something reaches its peak, it must eventually return to its original state. Could it be that Betty's current demeanor was a manifestation of the drug reaching its zenith?

In the other room, Michael's eyes snapped open when he heard the bathroom door. He stared at his own door, aware that Betty had finished her shower. Could she possibly come to his room now and seek him out in a frenzy of desire?

Perhaps it was the tension, or perhaps it was the entanglement of desire, but Michael now showed a hint of timidity. Although he had tried to suppress it, his arousal had been evident, and now, startled by the sound of the bathroom door, it wilted once again.

Especially since, after hearing the door open, all fell silent. There were no footsteps from Betty, but her long, drawn-out breaths could be heard. In the quiet of the night, her breathing didn't create a sense of dread but rather evoked the image of a beautiful sprite singing softly.

"Squelch, squelch, squelch..." Suddenly, the sound of wet footsteps echoed, indicating the person making them was barefoot and the soles of their feet were damp...