Indeed, Michael, trembling, gently lifted Betty's nightgown, only to find her wearing a pair of pink panties. Although the panties were lacy, the fabric covering the crucial areas was opaque, and combined with the darkness of the night, Michael's view was severely limited.
A hint of disappointment crossed Michael's face, but his excitement didn't wane. Even though he couldn't see Betty's most private parts, he figured he could still do something else.
Using the same approach, Michael slowly brought his face closer to the space between Betty's legs, eventually sniffing greedily through her panties at the scent emanating from her body.
Perhaps the smell of her pheromones thrilled him immensely; he seemed like an addict inhaling his drug of choice, the scent bringing him immense pleasure, his face a picture of bliss. After a few deep sniffs, Michael slowly let the hem of Betty's gown fall back into place.
Reluctantly leaving her intimate area, he knew he had to stop as time was short and further actions might awaken Betty.
Watching Michael give up on exploring further, I breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, he had backed off from Betty's most private area.
But just as my heart began to settle, it raced again. I thought Michael was getting ready to sleep, but then I saw him propping himself up and moving closer to Betty's upper body.
This guy wasn't giving up; he wouldn't rest until he had his fill for the night.
Michael's gaze then greedily settled on Betty's breasts, undoubtedly an easier target and arguably the most sensual part of a woman.
He hadn't yet seen Betty's nipples and seemed determined to change that. He tried reaching out a few times but lacked the courage to touch her nightgown, which was tight due to the swell of her breasts.
Eventually, Michael seemed to think of something. He carefully lay back down, maintaining a sleeping position, shoulder to shoulder with Betty. After a while, he rolled over, his hand accidentally hitting Betty's body due to inertia, and he even muttered in his sleep.
To an outsider, it would seem like he was just moving in his sleep, but he was actually testing how deeply Betty slept.
Sitting in front of my computer, I tensed up. If Michael discovered that Betty was a heavy sleeper, who knows what he might try next? Sure enough, after a few 'accidental' disturbances, Michael found that Betty indeed slept deeply, her breathing steady and unchanged.
During his last test, Michael's hand brushed against Betty's breast. It was just a light touch, but it was enough for him to feel the softness, causing a slight ripple.
This final experiment was a success for Michael. Perhaps he decided that touching Betty's breast, whether she woke up or not, was a win-win.
If Betty woke up, she might assume it was just an accidental touch during their shared sleep, unlikely to make a big deal out of it.
If she didn't wake up, well, that opened up further possibilities. After several tests, Michael realized Betty was very tired tonight and slept soundly.
Unbeknownst to him, Betty always slept deeply.
Emboldened, Michael propped himself up, maintaining his previous position. He slowly freed one hand, moving it very cautiously.
His target was Betty's breasts, and at that moment, I could feel Michael's nerves were shot. After all that fuss, coupled with his inner tension, beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead, glistening in the night.
As Michael's hand was just inches away from Betty's breast, he froze, needing one last surge of courage. He glanced over at his own sleeping spot, as if to memorize where he was supposed to be sleeping.
His plan was clear: if he managed to touch Betty's breast and she woke up, he'd have to dart back to his spot and play dumb. Betty, groggy and confused, wouldn't be able to confirm anything even if she did wake up.
Michael straightened his head, his gaze fixed on Betty's face, serene as Sleeping Beauty's. He had to keep an eye on any change in her expression, ready to react at the first sign she might wake up. With a grit of his teeth, his hand decisively yet gently covered her breast, feeling it through her nightgown.
Seeing this, my heart ached. Although Michael had accidentally touched Betty's breast earlier, this was different; this was a deliberate caress.
At this moment, Betty might not have been violated in the strictest sense, but she was certainly being desecrated. How I wished Betty would wake up and slap Michael right then, but I knew she wouldn't wake unless something more intrusive happened.
After placing his hand on Betty's breast, Michael remained utterly still, his breathing seemed to stop, and I noticed his body trembling slightly as sweat dripped from his forehead onto the sheets.
His eyes, tense and fearful, stayed glued to Betty's face, monitoring every bit of her physical response. After about half a minute, which felt like an eternity during which he barely dared to breathe, he finally took a deep breath, relieved that Betty hadn't woken up.
Now reassured, Michael's hand began to move very slowly and gently over Betty's breast, his face a picture of bliss as he savored the warmth and softness under his palm.
Betty's breasts were full and felt wonderful to the touch. Whenever I hugged Betty from behind in bed, I would push aside her bra and grasp her breasts. Holding Betty's breasts seemed almost hypnotic.
I never imagined that another man would be enjoying Betty's breasts for the first time like this. Michael kept kneading her breasts, increasing his pressure and speed, as he noticed no sign of Betty waking up.
After caressing one breast, Michael moved to the other, alternating back and forth without any indication from Betty that she was waking. He pondered for a moment before lifting his hands. Although he still intently watched Betty's sleeping face, he was noticeably less tense than before.
His next target was the last piece of fabric covering Betty's breasts. Michael only needed to lift and move aside the two patches of fabric to reveal Betty's pink nipples and areolas, leaving her breasts completely exposed.
Finally, Michael grasped the right side of Betty's nightgown covering her breast. Perhaps he was checking for any reaction from Betty, or maybe he was gathering his strength to do it all in one go.
As I sat in front of the computer watching everything unfold in the video, knowing it had already happened and that I couldn't stop it, I still hoped Betty would wake up at this crucial moment.
But could Betty really wake up...?