cer!

You & Michael are approximately 2 hours deep into this unexpected night, tipsy & staggered from the multiple drinks you’ve been bought from various people. Pulsing fluorescent lights reflect off your tanned skin as you move fluidly to the music, a sheen coat of sweat covering your bare arms from the humidity of the room.

Michael hadn’t been on the dance floor yet despite your pleas, he’s still a little shy even when he’s drunk. Instead, he’d prefer to watch you as he sat at the bar, sipping on some mysterious liquor Quincey had brought him. His thick curls stuck to his temples from everyone’s body heat pooling in the room, yet he still kept his flannel shirt buttoned up right to the top.

You’d look over your shoulder at him occasionally, relishing in the way he’d ogle at the lower half of your body with an unconscious bite of his lip. Or when he’d giggle around the rim of his glass when you’d gyrate your hips in his direction intentionally, showing off the curve of your ass in your jeans.

You’d love to tease him like that, testing his endurance. Michael was a faithful, religious man. He believed in the avoidance of sexual & lustful acts before marriage. He grew up around that motive all his life, especially with his family. But he’s an adult now with his own choices, yet he’s still stuck in the mindset of a 15 year old boy who has to follow the rules, or has to abide by what his parents taught him. He doesn’t fully realise he is his own man now, & his natural love for women doesn’t help.

He’d deny himself for months, stopping when things got too intimate with you, or made him feel something he didn’t know how to handle. It’s not like he didn’t want to, you’d feel the stiffness of his cock poke your thigh every time you two were making out, or even simply cuddling. But whenever you were just about to make it to the inside of his pants, he’d stop you politely, taking your hand away.

“Baby, not yet,” he’d always say.

Alas, being Michael’s girl was a positive experience. You got to live the upper-echelon life, such as being invited to private parties in Beverly Hills by people who worked alongside him. At first, Michael didn’t even want to go to this party, said it’s not his thing. You were in the middle, you wanted to get him out of his comfort zone & have fun for the night since you two weren’t up to much. In the end, you had convinced him enough to go, so here you were.

Michael turns his head, his trance broken as he hears a muffled voice call his name. It’s a trendy young man, probably successful or famous. He looks like he has money, though Michael doesn’t seem to know him. But of course, everyone knows Michael. The man’s smiling with all teeth, holding out his hand for a handshake.

Michael takes his hand immediately, smiling back as they share a quick & rough pat on the back.

“Love your music, man!” He shouts over the speakers.

Michael semi-yells a thank you that comes out louder & sloppier than expected. He averts his gaze back to you, already distracted by your femininity. Your hands flay in the air as your hair paints your face, you’re loving every second.

“That y'girl?” He shouts near Michael's ear.

Michael snaps his head at him & nods like he’s proud to say yes.

“Yeah, that’s my girl. Beautiful ain’t she?” He practically says to himself, his voice high and sweet. His half-lidded drunken eyes stay glued on you.

The man throws him a small nod of approval, a playful smirk on his face.

“Damn right she is. Treat her right, man. In both ways if y’know what I mean.” He laughs, nudging him.

Michael lets his words hang in the air for a few seconds before laughing back, not quite sure why he’s laughing. Deep down, he wants you so damn bad. He craves you, he hates that he can’t have you yet. He feels embarrassed that he can’t provide that side of intimacy to his girl as a man. But god, if he could, he knew that embarrassment would vanish in no time.

Before Michael could fully respond, the man was strutting away, yelling at someone else. What he said made something shift in his brain, giving him a surge of confidence. How can he sit away from something so beautiful? He tips the last drops of his drink down his throat before placing it on the bar table with a clank. You see him walk over to you on the dance floor with an anticipative yet hungry look on his face. Your face lights up in surprise as he gets closer, doing a reeling motion with your hands. He chuckles from slight embarrassment.

As soon as he reaches you he places his hands on the small of your waist, rubbing absentmindedly. He looks at you like you’re the only girl in his world, like you’re a gift from God. He leans down towards your ear, moving the hair away,

“I missed you.” He whispers hoarsely, you can smell the alcohol on his hot breath.

You feel heat pool to your cheeks, a small smile creeping up the edges of your glossy lips.

“I missed you too, finally decided to come over huh?”

You place your hands on his shoulders as you push yourself up to pepper a kiss on his cheek. The second your lips were about to touch his face, he turns his head to meet you in the middle for a messy kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. His breath hitches immediately, his brows furrowing as he pushes his body flush against yours, his hands growing tighter as they grab the fat of your hips.

He wastes no time in opening his mouth & wrapping his tongue around yours. His chest heaves as he tilts his head to the side, making an impossible attempt to deepen the kiss & get closer. You were caught off guard by his forwardness, he never usually initiated makeouts first, it was always you. You weren’t complaining though. You’d been waiting months for this energy, & now that is was finally here you were practically buzzing.

You sling your arms over his shoulders, connecting your hands around the back of his neck as you kiss him back with the same amount of desperation. The tips of your fingers play with his curls at the nape of his neck as you hum pleasantly on his lips.

You feel Michael’s breaths fall shallow, panting in your mouth as the same feeling he’d usually try to avoid starts to crescendo inside of him. That’s when you feel something hard poking on your thigh, you knew it was him.

You break the kiss breathlessly, a thin glistening line of your mixed salvia snapping.

“Michael—“ you mumble. You look down between his legs.

The sight before you has you frozen. His bulge swells beneath his brown courdroy pants as if it wants to escape, almost looking painful. His chest continues to rise & fall as he looks down, instinctively covering it with one hand.

“M’ sorry, just want you so bad. I don’t know why I feel like this tonight,” he says sloppily, his lips puffy & wet.

He can barely stand on two feet, constantly swaying from side to side. You giggle as you put your hands on his chest to steady him, the little circles you trace making him swallow. His eyes are glassy under the light, laced with this lust & neediness that you secretly love. You wanted to put him out of his misery so badly — but he’d never let you.

“How much did you drink tonight?” You tease, your voice as sweet as candy.

“A lot, I think.”

Your hands make your way to the top button of his shirt, attempting to undo it. His hand flies to yours to stop it.

“What are you doin'?” He giggles.

“Relax baby, It’s just so hot in here, are you not burning up in this?” you say smoothly.

You knew that wasn’t the only reason. You just wanted to loosen him up, step by step. He lets his hand down as he watches you undo his top button, then the second, then the third. His exposed chest glows under the fluorescent lights, deep & rich in color.

You run a hand along his bare skin, looking at him for any sign of discomfort. You don’t find any, for once he doesn’t look that nervous at all. His hands find your hips again, pulling you in against his frame as he gnaws on his bottom lip. He leans forward towards your neck, drawing in a deep inhale through his nose. Your sweet feminine scent drives him crazy. The way his warm breath gently grazes your neck gives you goosebumps. You squeeze your thighs as you feel your cunt start to pulsate.

“Do you always smell this lovely?” He whispers against you as he continues smelling your neck area like a feline.

“Baby, what’s gotten into you?” You chuckle.

You just stand there, letting him smother himself all over you. If you’re being honest, his sudden wave of confidence threw you off guard, now you’re the one all nervous.

You gently slide one of your hands in between your glued bodies, making your way to his thighs. Your other hand on his lower back. You caress one gently, the sensation immediately making him wince. He flutters his eyes shut as he leans forward to press his lips against yours, not knowing what to do with himself.

You both end up deepening the kiss, the sides of your mouth growing wet. He whimpers your name into your lips as if he’s physically struggling to contain something. He pulls away a mere inch just enough to murmur,

“God help me.”

You feel him lightly grab your hand, moving it lower & lower until it reaches his bulge. Your eyes shot up at him, twinkling with mischief. That’s the last thing you expected him to do.

His forehead falls onto yours as he presses your palm against his cock, rewarding a low & relieving groan from his throat. He feels like rock in your grasp, making you salivate. Thank god you’re practically in the dark. You can feel his entire shaft as if there's no material on it, that's how erect he is. You give it a singular stroke from bottom to top, causing his mouth to fall agape.

“Mikey—“

“Let’s go home, I’ll call a cab” he plants a kiss on your collarbone, then on your lips, “Please.”

This is the first time Michael’s ever made a move like that. That was the first time you’d ever felt him down there, your heart skipped a beat the second you touched it. You’ve dreamt of that moment for months, him being all needy for your touch.

Michael called a cab the second you agreed to leave, rushing outside as he held your hand tight. You didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone, his first priority was to get you home.

You gave the cab driver a hard time when you got in. You were all over each other on the ride home. You were both already spent, breathless & hot as you rammed your tongues down each other's throats, occasionally missing due to the darkness of the backseat. You could tell Michael was still trying to keep things safe, only making out with you. Not touching your 'lady parts' or anything, as he would call them. His hands would tremble as he held your shoulders tight, pushing his face into yours. You slide your hands under his flannel shirt, running your hands over his taut n’ clammy abdomen.

Kissing was the only thing he knew, the only thing he could do without feeling sinful. So it makes sense why his kisses feel so heated & desperate, his body needs more, yet it’s like he’s only restricted himself for kissing.

The red light at the junction illuminates the back seat, temporarily revealing your faces to each other. Michael looks down at your chest, your breasts almost falling out of your skimpy little top. He gently touches your necklace hanging above your cleavage, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"So beautiful, you're heaven-sent." He says, his voice cracking from being unused for the past 20 minutes of straight kissing.

When the taxi finally pulled up outside the house, Michael was already reaching for the door handle before the engine had fully settled. He shot a look at you, his face full of nerves & anticipation. You couldn’t help the smile that crept up on your face.

“Thank you,” you tell the driver. Michael was already out the car in a hurry, waiting on you.

Neither of you said anything as you scurried onto the front porch, desperate to be alone together. Michael drops the keys as he tries to get the lock open as soon as possible.

You didn’t quite know what it was Michael was rushing for, you had an idea, yet it seemed completely unrealistic given his morals.

Finally, he manages to get the front door open, ushering you in first before shutting it behind him with a slam.

He places the keys on the console table, turning to you. He burries his face into your neck, his hands running down your thighs. You laugh breathlessly, looking down at the floor.

“You’re gonna have to tell me to stop cus’ I can’t keep my hands off you, I’m sorry.” Michael cooes, his pants feeling tighter around his crotch again.

Telling him to stop was the last thing on your mind, that would be absurd. You look up at him through your lashes, puckering your lips a little, toying with him.

“I like it,” you whisper.

You plant a kiss on the sweet spot of his neck. His scent is warm & alluring, notes of fresh soap, vanilla, & a night out. You twist your head more, opening your mouth as you let your tongue glide wetly against his supple skin.

He’s never been kissed on the neck by you before, so the feeling immediately makes him freeze & contract, his eyes threatening to roll back to his head.

“Oh my—“ He whimpers.

He pulls away before you can get into it, grabbing your both your hands.

“Come upstairs with me.” He asks you, his words slurred as he starts to pull you towards the stairs.

You both make it to your bedroom, but it’s pitch black. You hear Michael click the door shut. Neither of you say anything for a second, the tension is thick in the air. You feel your cunt start to dampen due to the anticipation.

You stumble across the floor towards where you think your bedside lamp would be, you find it & flip the switch. The lamp casts a dim amber atmosphere. As soon as Michael sees where you are, he walks towards you, guiding you to the bed by your waist.

He plops himself down on the mattress, keeping his hands on you firmly. You stand between his open legs as you stroke his head, he looked so cute like this. His big brown eyes stay fixed on yours, never faltering. He moves his hands higher up your waist so they’re sitting a little below your breasts.

“What is it you want, Mikey?” You say just below a whisper, tilting your head.

“I want you.”

His voice is laced with confusion, like he feels ashamed to even admit such an obvious thing. He can’t help his boyish urges, it’s only biological & one can only take so much before it cracks.

His hands travel to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal your bare stomach. He plays with your belly button piercing first, giving it a little kiss. He continues to drag his face along your skin, his breath hitching as he peppers kisses at the same time, his lips felt burning hot against you.

You drop your head back slightly at the feeling, muttering his name as your hands stay in his hair.

He leans away, starting to pull up your shirt slow & steady. He looks at you as if to earn your approval. You hum in agreement as you help him lift your shirt off, leaving you in your white laced bra, your t-shirt forgotten on the floor.

Michael gawks at your plumpy breasts, his eyes darting back & fourth from them to your face, as if he can’t believe you’re real. The fit was a little too small for you, so the tops were on the verge of falling out which didn’t help him.

You reach around as you begin to unclasp your bra, startling him.

He looked like a deer in headlights, about to freak out or something. You place one hand on his cheek, stroking him with your thumb.

“You wanna see them?” You ask, your voice wooing him deeper.

Michael nods slowly, looking a little ashamed. He can’t even utter the courage to physically say yes, like if he does he’d be struck down.

You return your hand to your clasp, undoing it completely. Your full, perky breasts fall free once the material falls, sitting neatly in-front of his face while your nipples stiffen up from your arousal.

Michael’s gawks at them, his lips slightly parted. He didn’t know what to do with this sweet piece of ass in front of him, he couldn’t handle it. He’s never seen a naked woman in front of him before. Sure, he’d seen them when he’d flip through Playboy magazines in secret before he met you, but never in person. He’d always feel guilty for simply looking, or for the way his cock would twitch.

“They’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, honey. You can feel them if you want.” You reply.

You take his hands, pulling them up & placing them on your breasts. You let his hands go, allowing him to get used to the feeling. He wastes no time in rubbing & squeezing them, his pupils blown out as he looks at you, completely enamoured.

You watch him come undone every second that passes, his body becoming less stiff, more fluid & relaxed. Finally, his mental restraint snaps. He holds one in his hand as he leans forward, latching his mouth onto your right nipple with a warm, gentle pull & a swirl of his tongue. The sudden shock of pleasure draws a breath from your lungs, making your thighs clench.

“Oh my god Michael—“

His other hand reaches up, rolling your hard nub between his fingers in time with each wet pull of his mouth. He continues this for a few minutes, completely fine with doing it for hours.

He releases you from his mouth with a wet pop as you push him back onto the mattress. His belt buckle rattles as you fiddle to get it open. You manage to slide it off in one motion, throwing it behind you. You undo his button next, inching him to lift his hips up so you can remove his pants.

Michael grows impatient as he scurries to help you push them down to his thighs until you take over & pull them off completely. You feel your mouth start to salivate at the sight of his cock standing tall under his white boxers, the outline & shape clear as day.

Honestly, you didn’t expect him to look as big as he does. You wonder how it will even fit inside of you. The way it swells makes you pout, feeling even more obliged to put him out of his misery by milking him dry.

“You sure you wanna do this baby? We can stop y’know.” You reassure him, running your hands up his prickly thighs.

“Please, I don’t care anymore. I need you, God I need you. It hurts to say no to you.” He practically whimpers the words, dragging a hand over one of your breasts.

You automatically bite your lip at his desperation, moving your hands to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it over his head.

You grab the waistband of his boxers & start pulling them down slowly, his shaft revealing itself more & more the farther down they get. His cock springs free as soon as you get them completely off, slick pre-cum already pooling at the top of his head.

His cock was visibly perfect, his tip a deep mauve tone. Long veins were raised beneath the delicate skin, gently pulsating.

You feel Michael’s hand wrap around your hair, grabbing gently as he anticipates your mouth.

“Please, please—“ he begs.

You wrap your hand around the shaft, giving his tip a small kitten lick, lapping up his juices. The saltiness of his fluids made you hum, the vibrations sending him over the edge.

His body contracts the second your tongue touches him, lengthy groans ripping from his throat as he struggles to stay tame. One of his hands grips the sheets, his knuckles turning white as the other remains tangled in your hair.

You begin lowering your head, attempting to take him all in one go. Your nose grazes his pubic hair, his size causing soft gags to erupt from your throat.

“Ah—y-yes!” He cries, his eyes gradually making their way to the back of his head.

You couldn’t imagine how Michael must’ve been feeling right now, containing all that horniness for months only to get his cock sucked in the most vulgar way possible for the first time.

Trails of your saliva run down the sides of your mouth as you begin bobbing your head with a steady rhythm. You yourself were drunk, so keeping a rhythm & not sucking messily felt hard.

Michael’s hand guides your head up & down as if it has a mind of its own, not aware what he’s doing. He was too far gone, he’s entire body stiffened up from the intense pleasure you were giving him.

He opens his eyes as he rises his head up, looking at you worryingly.

“I feel something happening,” he warns as his abs start to clench. “If you stop now, it won’t count, right?” He barely manages to get the sentence out, his voice cracking.

You release him from your mouth with a pop, stroking him absentmindedly. You chuckle to yourself, he really thinks if you stop before he cums, this sinful act won’t count.

“It’s okay to want want me, Michael” You mewl.

He throws his head back on the sheets, accepting his defeat. His body still twitching as you stroke him.

You stand on your feet as you start to unbutton your jeans, sliding them down & off your feet. He sits up, sliding his hands across the hem of your lace panties before slowly pulling them down, watching the way your pussy reveals itself to him in awe.

Before you could do anything else, Michael presses his face into your glossy folds, holding your ass in place so you don’t fall.

A pornographic moan spills from your lips as you tip your head back, followed by your eyes. He moves his head down for a better angle, lapping & sucking up all your juices. His tongue swirls around your entrance, hitting your clit occasionally making you wince.

“More, please more—“

He flips you around onto the bed, immediately diving between your legs to continue feeding off you. You keep your legs open for him as he holds the backs, pushing them forward. He flattens his tongue against the bottom of your slit, dragging it all the way up with a groan. He continues doing that a few times for his own gain, sending you over the edge.

You pinch your eyes shut as you start to feel your thighs clench around nothing, a familiar sensation starting to grow in your lower belly.

“You’re gonna make me come if you don’t stop.” You moan out.

If anything, he speeds up. You tug at the sheets while the messy slurps from his drunken mouth bring you closer. Your breathing falls shallow, paired with little whimpers as the feeling grows stronger until it finally takes over you.

“Right there, y-yes, coming!”

Black spots cloud your vision, your thighs trembling in his grasp as the cord in your belly snaps. You’ve never came so hard in your life, it was almost painful.

Michael crawls on top of you like a cat as he brings you in for another kiss, addicted to your lips alone. You hold his face, his hands braced next to your head. You exhale as you feel his cock tap against your pussy, wanting to enter.

Michael moves himself up & down, his tip sliding against your slit beautifully. Both of you being so so wet makes the sliding easy, almost slipping in every now & then.

“Want it so bad, ma. Please say yes.” He whispers in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder as he continues dragging it along your slit.

“Take it baby, t’s all yours.”

You push his ass, slowly crowning his tip inside you. A bittersweet sting forms as he plunges himself deeper inside, every inch forcing a moan out of the both of you. You sling your hands around his shoulders, keeping your legs open as wide as possible in hopes he’ll fit completely.

“So—tight, God.” He breathes out, pushing the last inches inside.

Once he’s fully in, he’s already panting, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him making him weak. He takes a minute to get used to the feeling before starting to move. A few seconds pass & he starts moving, dragging his cock fully out before plunging back in.

Your breasts move beneath him with each gentle thrust, making him latch mouth onto one momentarily, greedy to have every part of you at once. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly with precision every second, you honestly felt like you could cum at any moment if you let yourself.

It doesn’t take much longer before he’s speeding up, the slick plaps of skin meeting skin starting to creep up the harder he goes. A sweet, foamy ring of white starts to form around the base of his cock with each thrust.

Michael would rather keep his eyes open to look at your pretty little face, yet he finds it very hard. His eyes are pressed shut, trying to hide from the sinful reality. His face dug into your neck as he mumbles gibberish to himself, completely pussy whipped.

“Feels—good Mikey, you feel so fucking good.” You say, your voice jumping from his searing thrusts.

You feel his tongue graze your neck as his mouth opens, attempting to respond but to no avail.

He continues snapping his hips into you, his pelvis hitting your clit perfectly every-time. Not one second goes by where you don’t feel pleasure, it’s trapping you.

You feel him swell larger inside of you, knowing he must be close. He lifts himself up, holding your hips to push himself into you impossibly deeper.

“Fuck! Right there!” You cry out, the head of his cock abusing your sweet spot even more than before.

“I feel it, It’s coming,” He pants, his eyes practically watering as they stare at you for support.

You reach down to try & grab him, forgetting you weren’t wearing any protection.

“You have to pull out baby, can’t come inside.”

There’s no sense of urgency in your voice, you were too consumed & wrapped up in the feeling he was giving you. Part of you didn’t even care, all you knew was now.

Michael’s thrusts start to become sloppy & erratic, his release only seconds away as his body begins to stiffen up, his thighs shaking.

The sudden change in his thrusts caused you to cum again suddenly. Your walls strangle him as you cry into your hand. The neighbours never entered your mind once.

The tightness of your unexpected orgasm catches him off guard, tipping him over the edge.

“Fuck, m’ sorry, I’m sorry—“

His hips snap into you one last time before he freezes, his warm seed spilling inside of you, panting your walls. His body falls limp as he flops down onto your chest, drawing out a long singular strangled moan into your cleavage, followed by little high pitch whimpers. The sensation of him filling you up makes you whine, definitely one of your guilty pleasures.

After a few minutes of breaths being caught, he lifts his hips, pulling his flaccid length out of you. His thick white release drips out instantly, pooling between your ass. You watch the colour drain out of his face as he stares between your legs. He reaches forward, rubbing the fluid between his fingers.

“How do you feel about being a daddy?"

a/n: can you guys tell i've been in heat this week?

The air was filled with the scent of wood and dusty books. It was very few people in the library, and the small sounds of a type writer could be heard.

You and Michael were on the second level, all the way in the back covered by a large bookshelf. You went under the pretense of a nice way to end y’all’s date. You both were readers so you separately chose a book that seemed interesting to sit and read.

Anyone would’ve expected the sweet couple to be quietly chatting, showing each other what’s going on in their stories. Michael thought the same until he realized how truly distracting it was.

His hand quivered feeling you palm his bulge that formed under his jeans. He glanced over at you, and your eyes were glazing over words in your chosen novel.

He swallowed before leaning to whisper to you, “Do we need to leave?”

You looked at him, hand not stopping its movements. “Why, baby?” You deserved an acting nomination, as if you had genuine concern in your eyes.

He opened his mouth but your hand added a pressure, causing him to choke out a moan. He slapped his hands over his mouth, checking to see if the coast was clear.

“Shhh Mikey, read and be quiet.” You told him. He nodded, attention shifting back to his sci-fi novel. The words blurred before his eyes as you continued rubbing on his clothed dick.

He felt it pulsing beneath his boxers. His heart could’ve stopped feeling your hand unzip his jeans, maneuvering to where his dick was out.

His eyes darted across the library, paranoid that anyone could see. Looking at you once again, you showed no reaction, as if your book was the most interesting piece of literature in the world.

As your hand wrapped around his bare dick, his eyes flickered back for a split second. He didn’t notice the small smile that formed on your face, knowing he was crumbling before your hands.

His fingers gripped the edges of his book trying to focus on anything else. Your hand slightly twisted his tip causing a whimper to spill from his lips.

“Shh.” You told him, not taking your eyes off the book. He was going absolutely insane, feeling as if he was being tortured. The analog clock ticked loudly behind him adding to the tense atmosphere.

You removed your hand, and he couldn’t ignore the mix of relief but disappointment he felt. Only for the arousal and dread to come back full speed seeing your palm close to his mouth.

He knew what you wanted, for him to spit so you can stroke his dick easier. He debated knowing he would be done for if he did it, but he felt your tense stare on the side of his face.

He swallowed nervously before spitting into your palm, and braced himself as he watched your hand go back to his length. As soon as he felt the warm thick liquid cover him, he tossed his head back.

His hips instinctively bucked into your hand while he panted heavily into the air. Your attention was completely off the book, shifting closer to Michael. You leaned to whisper in his ear, “you’re doing so good f’me baby.”

He couldn’t fight his eyes rolling back, tiny moans spilling out of his mouth. The small slick sound of your hand pumping his dick didn’t go unnoticed as you kissed his neck.

“P-please—I-i don’t wanna cum here.” He whimpered, hand coming to grip your wrist. “Move your hand baby.” You said kindly but Michael knew better.

He hesitantly moved his hands watching his tip reappear every time your hand went down his length. “You gotta be quiet for me, baby.” You told him and he quickly nodded.

He felt the small ball began to form in his stomach, chasing after your hand. He bit his bottom lip, eyes glossing over from holding back in his noises. Your tongue slowly trailed up his jaw, causing another tiny moan to be drawn out.

“Suck.” You demanded, bringing your ring and middle finger to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around them as you continued to stroke his dick.

His tongue wandered around your fingers, eyes rolled back as he was on the edge of his orgasm. You revealed his tip once more, letting a glob of spit drop from your own mouth to coat him.

The feeling of the warm liquid drop onto his dick sent him over board. His small whimpers snuck past your fingers, covering your hand in splatters of his cum.

You stroked him through his orgasm, as his body shook in pleasure.

“Gotta start being quiet baby.”

The digital clock on Janet’s nightstand glowed a faint, green ‘2:14 AM’. Beside you, Janet was completely dead to the world, her breathing deep and even, one arm flung over her face.

You waited another agonizing five minutes, your heart hammering against your ribs, before you carefully peeled back the heavy blankets. The floorboards in the sprawling mansion were a minefield of potential creaks, but you knew the layout by heart now. Slipping out of the bedroom, you closed the door until it clicked into place with a sound that felt deafening in the dead silence of the house.

The hallway was freezing, but your skin felt entirely on fire. You hurried down the corridor, your bare feet making no sound on the plush runners, until you reached the door at the very end. You didn't even have to knock; the handle turned instantly, and a pair of large, warm hands reached out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into the darkness before you could even blink.

The door shut silently behind you. Before you could whisper his name, Michael’s lips were on yours. It wasn't his usual sweet, hesitant greeting; it was urgent, starved, and heavy with the frustration of a whole day spent pretending you were just his little sister’s friend.

He backed you up against the wood of the door, his frame pinning you flat. One of his long-fingered hands cupped the back of your head, deep-fleshing the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that made your knees instantly turn to water.

"You took too long," he murmured against your mouth, his breath hot and ragged. His thumbs traced your jawline, his dark eyes wide and burning even in the dim moonlight filtering through his sheer curtains. "I was about to come get you myself."

"Janet wouldn't stop talking," you whispered back, your hands finding the soft fabric of his button-down shirt. "Michael, we have to be so careful. If anyone wakes up—"

"Shh." He cut you off with another bruising kiss, his hands traveling down your sides to grip your hips, lifting you effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your nightshirt riding up. "I know. Just stay quiet for me, baby. Totally quiet."

He carried you across the room, his movements fluid and entirely silent, before laying you down on the center of his massive, unmade bed. The mattress dipped, and then he was hovering over you, shedding his shirt in one fluid motion. His bare chest pressed against yours, the heat radiating off him intoxicating.

Michael didn't waste any time. The agony of the secret was a driving force, making every touch intense. His large hands slid under the hem of your shirt, smoothing up your ribs until he found your breasts, kneading them through the thin fabric of your bra. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and Michael immediately caught it with his mouth, sucking the sound straight from your throat.

"So beautiful," he breathed, shifting down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your neck, and right over your collarbone. He bit gently at the soft skin there, making you arch your back, your fingers tangling desperately in his curls.

He reached down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and sliding them down your legs. You kicked them off, your breath hitching as his hand moved back up your inner thigh. When his fingers brushed against your center, you were already completely slick, aching for him. Michael let out a low, rough growl of approval, his thumb rubbing over your sweet spot in deep, agonizingly perfect circles.

You had to bite down hard on your own knuckles to keep from crying out as a wave of heat rushed through you. Michael watched your face in the dark, his expression heavy-lidded and intensely focused on your pleasure.

"Look at me," he whispered, his voice dropping into that deep, husky register he only used behind closed doors. He reached for his trousers, freeing himself, his eyes never leaving yours. "Look at me, baby."

He guided himself to your opening, rubbing against you for one torturous second before pushing inside. He slid in all at once, deep and unyielding. The sheer fullness of him made your eyes widen, a sharp breath catching in your throat.

Michael instantly covered your mouth with his hand, his long fingers filtering the muffled, needy whimpers that escaped you.

"I know, I know," he crooned into your ear, his hips beginning to move. "Hold onto me. Don't make a sound."

He established a slow, devastatingly deep rhythm. Because he couldn't move wildly without risk, every single thrust was deliberate, heavy, and aimed right at the spot that made your toes curl. His chest slammed against yours with a soft, fleshy rhythm, the only other sound in the room being the frantic, synchronized rustle of the silk sheets.

The pleasure was overwhelming, heightened by the absolute terror of getting caught. Every time you felt a moan rising in your chest, Michael was there to kiss it away, or you were burying your face directly into his neck, biting his shoulder to smother the sound. His skin tasted faintly of salt and cocoa butter, and he was sweating now, his muscles flexing beneath your hands as he drove deeper and faster, losing his own control.

"You're so tight," he gasped out, his head rolling back for a fraction of a second before he locked his eyes back onto yours. His thrusts became shorter, harder, completely relentless. "I'm close, baby. Come for me. Quietly."

The friction was perfect. Your walls clamped around him tightly, and that was the trigger. You shattered first, your body trembling violently, a silent, weeping climax crashing over you. Feeling your pulsing contractions, Michael let out a muffled, breathless groan against your neck, his hips giving three more deep, heavy surges before he locked his jaw and came inside you, his whole body going completely rigid.

For a long time, the only movement was the heavy, synchronized rise and fall of your chests. Michael collapsed against you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his breath stuttering against your skin.

Slowly, he slipped out of you and rolled to the side, pulling you tightly against his chest and draping the heavy quilt over both of your damp bodies. He kissed the top of your head, his hand gently stroking your back as your breathing finally slowed.

"You have to go back soon," he murmured softly, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I know," you whispered, snuggling closer into his warmth, wishing the night could last forever.

"But until then," Michael smiled in the dark, his fingers tracing your hip under the covers, "just stay right here."

His fingers dug deep into the pages of the book, the pages becoming more and more crinkled by the moment. His mind had gone hazy a long time ago. The only thing you could think about was the way your hand twisted around his cock, the firm grip adding intense pleasure that ripped another whine from his throat.

“C'mon, Mikey, keep reading," you cooed, adjusting your position on the tiled floors.

"Oh…oh…okay." He tried to adjust his eyes to the words on the paper, but they all seemed to blur into one. His grip on the book loosened, his head tossing back as you sped up the pace; the sound of spit mixed with his pre-cum, filling the air.

“I can't hear you. "You slowed down that satisfying pace, now becoming less satisfying.

“If you don't keep reading, I'm going to stop." That really got him. He whined, letting his hips buck wildly in attempts to gain any kind of friction.

“Please don't… I'll read, I'll be good," his hips still bucking as you sped up, letting your lips latch on to his head. The warmth from your mouth was now distracting him even more as he stuttered, trying to get the first word out. He wasn't even a paragraph in, yet he couldn't even try and get the words out, the sensation of the pleasure completely taking over his senses.

Suddenly everything felt more quiet than it should have as he fell forward, his head now placed in the crook of your neck. The warmth from his heavy breathing fanned over your collarbone as his body shook violently. The white spots in his vision seemed to multiply as he came, a loud cry ripping through his throat out into the spacious room.

“Oh god, your hands are s'good." His lips pressed against your neck.

"Mikey," you spoke up, watching as he pulled back, now looking you in the eyes.“Hm?”

“You didn't even finish the first chapter; now we have to do it again."

©angelfacediary

you need to feel the delicious burn of his dick pushing inside of you, kissing your cervix, wedging himself so far into you that you’re sure you’ll feel him in your stomach.

“mama—”

you interrupt him catching his bottom lip between your teeth. his breath catches in his throat when he feels his dick throb with need.

“i wanna feel you,” you mumble, trailing kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking his skin.

“baby…” you hear his breath hitch, his hips pushing up into you once again.

“do you not want to fuck me?” you ask him, sitting up straight so your core is firmly pressed onto his bulge.

he lets out a weak breath, like he’s struggling to contain himself. “i do… i wanna make love to you so bad but—”

“what’s stopping you?” you pout. “i’m right here and im already aching to feel you inside of me, look…” you grab his hand, pushing it in between your bodies to your clothed cunt, letting him feel how soaked you are.

“fuck.” michael whispers, pushing your underwear to the side without even realising. you gasp when his fingers circle around your opening gathering your slickness.

“you’re already so wet.” you try and hide your grin at the pure desperation in his voice.

“i know.” you grin. your mouth suddenly falls open when you feel the thickness of his finger pushing inside of your spongy walls.

“mikey…” you moan, grasping his forearm. he hums, working his finger in and out of you.

“i was trying to be a gentleman ma, but you keep on making it so hard for me.” you nod, even though his eyes are focused on the movements of his finger inside of you. it’s like he’s just talking to himself.

“please.” you beg. “ill be so good, i promise.”

you hear something close to a growl escape michael’s throat. you yelp when you’re suddenly flipped onto your back on the couch, with michael above you.

his lips crash down onto yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth with ease. the kiss is messy, a mix of tongue and the occasional clash of teeth, but you don’t care. you even wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

you keep kissing him, hearing the sound of his belt unbuckling.

michael pushes his pants down just far enough to free out his length, before rubbing it against you cunt and gathering all of your wetness. you suck in a breath, feeling the tip catching onto your entrance.

you wince feeling the pressure of him trying to push it inside, your hole trying to suck him in.

michael breaks apart from the kiss, looking down and pushing his hips more forward, trying to get at least the tip in.

your eyebrows furrow, feeling just a slight bit of pain. you mentally shrug, thinking it’s normal and just raise your head, pressing your lips back against michael’s.

the distraction works for a second too long, until the painful ache starts to get even unbearable. “is it in?” you ask. looking down to see that the tip hasn’t even breached your entrance yet.

“i—” michael blushes, “it’s not going in. m’trying.” you feel the burn of him pushing his hips forward again, pressing your hand against his stomach.

“it’s not going to fit.” you swallow, embarrassment eating you up alive.

what kind of girlfriend are you if you can’t even take your boyfriends dick?

michael looks down at you, then looks at his enlarged member. he bites his bottom lip like he’s thinking. you honestly want the couch to swallow you up whole, you’ve never been so embarrassed.

“uh.. maybe if i just—” you gasp, clutching onto his shoulder when the burning intensifies and you feel the tip of his member pop inside of you.

michael hisses at the penetration, never actually feeling something so damn tight before. it feels like you’re trying to suck the skin off of his dick.

you on the other hand have never felt so full. you’re aware that it’s just the tip, but you don’t believe you have any more room available for the rest of his length.

“oh god.” you pant, resting your head back on the arm of the couch. “i underestimated how big you actually are.” you whine, when he pushes his hips forward again, causing another inch to slip inside.

“i don’t think i can take anymore.” you gulp, already digging your nails into his back.

michael nods, dropping his head in the crook of your neck. “i agree… why don’t we just stay like this for a while.”

you nod quickly, believing that if he does thrust another inch inside of you then he might just tear you apart from the inside.

you may have been too greedy and underestimated the size of your boyfriend.

on the bright side, it’s only you guys’ first time so maybe next time you’ll be able to take all of him.

The sound of the gate opening and a running engine gradually approaching roused you out of whatever sleep you were just about to fall into. You hopped off the hood of the red car that you were sitting on top of, anxious to finally to be released from the shackles of watching this game. Michael stepped out of the car and greeted all of you before excitedly making his way over to the trunk. Once Bill opened the trunk, Michael yanked a familiar game out of a big blue shopping bag.

"Guys look, I got Twister! You wanna play tonight?" Michael just barely finished his sentence before all the boys started laughing at him.

"Twister? Really?"

"What are we gonna do with Twister?"

The smile that made Michael's face radiate like the sun depleted ever so slightly. "Come on, it'll be like the old days," he countered.

"We'd love to, Mike, but I gotta be at home with the family, I can't be playing games," argued Jermaine before immediately reverting his attention back to the ball.

"And the rest of us are going out tonight."

"Yeah, Marlon's got a hot date."

Michael cradled the box in the nook of his arm, a subtle look of dejection lingering in his eyes. "Marlon, what time are you gonna be home? We can play then."

Before Marlon could respond, Tito answered for him. "Marlon's gonna be playing his own game of Twister tonight."

They all went back to laughing, and in a series of rather fortunate events, you swooped in to snatch your chance of getting what you came here for: some alone time with Michael.

"I'll play with you," you said, and the light came back to his eyes as quickly as it left.

"At least there's one person around here who knows how to have fun," Michael responded, speaking indirectly to his brothers. "Come on then, the faster we get to my room, the more time we have to play." 

With haste, Michael bolted to the front door of the house as you chased after him, laughter from the both of you filling the air as you ran past.

Whether 30 minutes had passed or 3 hours, it was difficult to tell. You and Michael had played an unfathomable number of rounds, and that same yawn that you stifled earlier started haunting your throat again. Michael on the other hand still had enough energy to play until the cows came home.

"Let's play one more round," Michael said, mimicking his words from the past 5 rounds while smoothing out the mat.

You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle another round of the same dreary game. It's not that you wanted to stop playing, it's just that you wanted to spice things up a bit. Twister would've been a blast to play on its own for 50+ plus rounds back when you were in grade school, but you were an adult now which meant you had a different, and slightly more raunchy idea of fun.

Just as that thought passed through your head, a light bulb went off and a devious grin crept on your face. Oh yes. Not only would the brilliant idea that just popped into your head make for a much more interesting game, but it would lead you right to where you wanted to be with Michael. Right to where you've wanted to be with him for years now.

"Michael, why don't we switch it up a bit? Play a different version of Twister than the one we've been playing this whole time?"

"A different version? Like what?"

"Strip Twister."

His head shot up. You could tell he was physically trying to restrain his eyes from popping out of his head. "Strip Twister?"

"Yeah, I learned how to play it from an old friend at summer camp several years ago. You play the game like how you normally would, but every time someone falls, that person has to remove an article of clothing and the game doesn't end until one of us is naked."

Michael chuckled uneasily. "I don't know if it's a good idea to play that version."

"Why not?" you asked in feigned oblivion.

"Because one of us is gonna end up seeing the other naked!" Michael exclaimed, though his tone of voice and body language didn't really express the same level of opposition as the words coming out of his mouth.

"Oh please, I took sex ed in school, I know what boys look like down there. Besides, we're not strangers. It's not that much different from seeing each other in our bathing suits."

Michael's face was unreadable. Worried that you had overstepped a boundary, your brain scrambled to find a way to go back in time 30 seconds and never mention the Strip Twister, but what Michael said next nearly made your own eyes pop out of your head.

"50 bucks says I'm the last one clothed by the end."

The same devious grin from earlier revisited your face, and you both shook hands to seal the deal; the last instance of purely platonic physical contact that you two would engage in for the rest of the day.

At the end of round 1, your socks were sacrificed. At the end of round 2, it was Michael's turn to sacrifice his socks. The finale of round 3 constituted the removal of Michael's plain white t-shirt, but round 4 was where you had to give up your Jordache jeans. After Michael's arms gave out on him in round 5, you teased him with a wolf-whistle as he discarded his black sweats, revealing the Mickey Mouse boxers he was wearing underneath. You nearly broke the skin on your bottom lip biting down on it to suppress your laughter. Round 6 was a close game, but your halter top was the next article of clothing that ended up on the floor at the end of that round.

Now in nothing but your second skins, the stakes were at an all time high. Michael was determined to be the last man standing (or clothed in this case) but you needed him to lose this next round to carry out your master plan as intended.

Michael was virtually heaving at this point and sounded breathless every time he spoke. You were shocked that he hadn't gotten a boner yet, especially considering the way he couldn't take his eyes off of your body. He spun the wheel right next to him. "Alright, right hand red."

Bullseye. There was no better body part/color combination that the arrow could've landed on, because with just one convenient placement of your right hand on the red dot all the way to the far edge of the mat, you were now promoted to hovering on top of Michael. The cloth prison that your breasts were still confined in left little to the imagination as your nipples prodded through the thin fabric in perfect line with Michael's gaze. His breath was hot on your cleavage and you could hear just the faintest bit of shakiness in it. And it wasn't long after you got into the new position that you felt something lightly press up against your underwear with more and more force by the second. It was as if whatever the mystery object was that was pressing up against your core was growing. The tiniest gasp escaped from Michael's mouth and he lowered his body as close to the ground as he could without actually touching it. There it was. You now wished you could go back to the crab-walk stance to see the mountain growing in his boxers in real time.

You leaned forward to be able to reach the arrow on the wheel and determine Michael's fate. He had turned his head to the side out of politeness when he saw you reach forward, but his willpower to remain gentlemanly was subpar at best because you clocked several instances of him glancing back at your breasts in the 5 seconds it took for the arrow to land on left foot red.

A Robin Hood Bullseye. Michael's left foot was all the way on the green dot farthest to the edge of the mat in line with where your right hand was. There was no way he would be able to get it all the way over to red without losing his balance and falling, especially with you on top of him limiting the amount of space he had for his leg to move.

He looked up at you with pleading eyes once he realized how rigorous this feat would be to accomplish, but he was only met with a witty smirk in return.

After a great deal of stalling, Michael revved himself up to hoist his left foot off of the green spot and plant it onto the red spot directly next to the one your right hand was on, but his strategy was foiled when his foot got stuck to the mat and caused him to collapse dramatically underneath you.

You cheered in victory, lifting yourself off of him to jump in the air and chant your triumph as he lay in the same position he fell in, his arms crossed weakly on top of his torso and his head rolled back in laughter. As much as he hated losing a game to you, he loved watching you put on a show every time you won. Once you finished rubbing your victory in his face, you plopped down right next to him and Michael briskly lifted his left knee up to hide the front of his boxers.

You rubbed his arms up and down, gently squeezing his lean biceps. "The $50 you can give me later, but Mickey Mouse is gonna have to say goodbye right now." You transitioned your hands from his biceps to the waistband of his underwear, and even through his deep brown skin, you could see the faintest hint of red looming on his cheeks before he covered his face with his hands and playfully tried to kick you away.

"No! Please!" he begged through a fit of giggles. "C'mon, let's do best out of 3."

"It doesn't work like that, applehead."

Michael carried on with his laughing fit for some time while you continued to toy with his waistband. At this point, he was fighting back less and less with each graze of your hand past his navel. In fact, he wasn't really putting much effort into hiding his erection anymore either. His legs now lay completely relaxed and flat on the floor, giving you a full view of the outline of his thick cock laying off to one side and protruding through the fabric, begging for some form of escape.

Curious as to whether he was no longer hiding his growing appendage on purpose or if he simply forgot it was there, you tugged his boxers down the slightest bit, just enough to see where the dark curls of his pubic hair began. He didn't stop you. He simply shuddered as another row of muffled giggles came out of his mouth. When he finally removed his hands from his face, he gazed up at you with a glimmer in his eyes that was anything but platonic.

"You're not stopping me," you pointed out.

Michael shook his head, looking as though he just got hit with Cupid's arrow.

You crossed your arms and sat back on your heels. "You figured out the reason why I suggested Strip Twister in the first place, didn't you?"

Michael nodded.

"So then you know where this is heading?"

He nodded once more.

"And you want me to continue?"

"Please," he squeaked, struggling to quell a smile that almost touched his eyes.

"Well," you swung a leg over to sit on top of him and bent down until his face was a blur in your eyes, "since you asked so nicely."

The gasp that emerged from Michael's mouth as you seated yourself directly on top of his aching bulge was briskly silenced by the delicate kiss you planted on his lips. You pulled back after the first initial peck to catch his reaction, and you were pleasantly surprised to see him lift his head up off the ground in a desperate attempt to meet your lips again.

Your hand found its way to the back of his head, cradling his curls, dampened by preliminary sweat, as you brought your lips to his once more. You lingered there for a little while longer this time, making sure to savor his taste. You hadn't realized just how starving you were for him until now, and neither did he. His hands maneuvered to your back to hold onto you, pulling you in until your bodies were pressing against each other. As your lips fought to consume one another, you grabbed hold of his hands and guided them to the hook of your bra. With a swift unclasp, the bra slid right off and down your arms before being thrown onto the pile with the rest of the discarded clothes.

A mini sigh of relief fell from your lips and trickled into Michael's mouth. Your breasts lay freely on his chest and your hearts synced together, thumping at a rapid pace as the dizziness in your heads made you both feel like your brains were being carried by ocean waves. Was this actually happening? Or did you fall asleep while watching the brothers play basketball and you were just dreaming right now? You would've pinched yourself to know for sure, but you much preferred the feeling of Michael's fingers desperately gripping your thighs as opposed to your own.

As much as Michael's sickly sweet lips satisfied your craving orally, your core still remained starved for the delicacy that lay between his legs. Lightly, your hips began to rock back and forth on his clothed member. Michael whimpered, his legs wriggling beneath you and his hands dancing in a mixture of balling themselves into fists and retracting.

The slickness from your cunt began to coat the entire bottom of your panties, making the part of Michael's boxers that his shaft hugged so tightly sopping wet as well. For whatever part of his boxers wasn't soaked from your juices, the precum oozing out of him finished the job.

What started as a gentle back-and-forth motion eventually turned into aggressive grinding. These damn panties and boxers were in your way, barricading you from the real thing, and no matter how hard you rubbed yourself on Michael, it wasn't enough. He must've felt the same way, because while you were both still tongue-deep in each other's mouths, you felt his fingers tuck themselves into the sides of your panties, signaling to you that he wanted you to take them off.

You lifted yourself up, met with a whiny protest from Michael, and bit your lip as you smiled pompously. "I'm sorry, was I the one that lost Twister?" you asked him.

He shook his head, his eyes stark on your tits.

"That's right. You were the one that lost, which means these have to come off first," you said, playfully tugging at his boxers.

You teased him for what was realistically about 2 minutes, but to him, it felt like hours. You snaked your hands underneath the boxers to squeeze and knead his trembling thighs before migrating them over to his cock, which was still fully clothed, giving him a lazy hand job that made him squirm and writhe defenselessly.

"Please… Just take it off… I can't… I need… Mmph."

You giggled, butterflies going haywire in the pit of your stomach. You had never seen him act like this before, so needy and entirely helpless at your disposal. You would've teased him for even longer just to see how much he could handle before he cracked, but at this point, your legs were starting to quiver as well, and you had become so wet that you could physically feel the fluid dripping out of your pussy in real time.

"As you wish," you gladly stated, and with one sturdy pull, his boxers were dragged down from his hips and off of his legs.

Michael sighed in relief as his dick sprang free, slapping his stomach and leaving a thin string of precum connecting his glistening tip to the spot that it hit before standing fully upright.

You swallowed your breath. They say that the camera adds 10 lbs. Well, it must've been the case that Mickey Mouse boxers subtract 10 lbs, because the silhouette of his dick in his underwear could not even begin to compare to how big it looked when it was wild and free.

Slightly curved towards himself with speckles of lighter skin all around and a broad vein running down the shaft, you guesstimated that his dick must've been at the very least 7 and a half inches, maybe even 8. You became a bit nervous. You weren't a virgin, unlike Michael, but none of the other guys you had been with in the past were even remotely close in size to him. Was all that going to fit inside of you? There was only one way to find out, and God, you couldn't wait to find out the answer.

In a tantalizing manner, you grabbed hold of his hands and tucked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, silently giving him permission to do what he wanted to do 3 minutes ago. With shaky hands, he carefully slid your underwear off of you, his hands gliding down your thighs before you briskly passed your feet through the holes and threw them onto the pile, topping it off like the star on a Christmas tree.

Eager for the main event with your slickness now crawling down onto your inner thighs, you pounced on top of Michael, grabbing hold of his face and planting your lips onto his once more. As your tongues danced with each other and his hands went back to caressing your body, focusing on the parts that weren't accessible to him until now, yours slithered down, gliding past his throat where you could feel his heart beating inside of it, past his chest covered in a thick sheen of perspiration, past his stomach where you traced the lines that made up his delicate abs, and past the mound of curly black pubic hair until they wrapped around his pulsating cock.

Michael expelled a drawn-out mewl as you stroked him thoroughly, starting at the very bottom of the base and pushing up until his foreskin swallowed the tip before you glided your hand back down and the glistening head bloomed once more. The squelching noises accompanied by Michael's kitten-like whimpers were music to your ears.

"Please, please," he begged as you continued to fondle him, rotating your hands as you went up and down to ensure that no part of his dick was left unstroked, "I just wanna be inside you already, please…"

You fought hard to suppress a shudder, having almost came right then and there from hearing him say that. You had spent this whole time having a ball teasing Michael to the point of madness that you hadn't realized just how close you were to your own tipping point until he said those magic words in that delectably high-pitched voice of his. It was in that moment that you released your hands from his cock and pulled him up so that he was sitting upright, leaning against the edge of his bed as opposed to laying flat on the floor like he had been this whole time. You needed to be face to face with him for this moment.

You maneuvered yourself to hover over his cock, wrapping your arms around his neck and touching your foreheads together as he gripped and kneaded your ass with desperation. It almost felt like he was trying to push your hips down. You took the hint and finally lowered yourself onto him at long last. As his lubed tip began to pierce through your hole, shockwaves of pleasure emanated through the both of you, starting at the base of your groins and dispersing all throughout your bodies until you could feel the tingles passing through each follicle of hair on your scalp. Michael's head rolled back as a moan of intense relief escaped from his throat, and your mouth hung open as you felt his member stretch your ribbed walls inch by inch.

Your thighs trembled like mad trying their absolute hardest to hold your weight as you slowly drew yourself down. 1 inch, 2 inches, 3 inches, 4 inches. It burned so good. You viciously sucked on his neck trying to distract yourself from the pain, knowing that pure bliss was coming soon, and the vibrations that his moans set off on your teeth helped open your cunt to let him in deeper. 5 inches, 6 inches, 7 inches…

Soon your pussy swallowed all 8 inches of him and your trembling thighs were finally rewarded with resting on top of his as you both let out a low-drawn groan in unison. You stayed there for a little while, wanting to relish in the feeling of his dick being hugged tightly by the slick walls of your cunt.

"God, you're so big, it's making me so full," you whispered breathlessly against the skin of his neck. "You want me to start moving up and down?"

An incomprehensible noise emitted from Michael's throat as he furiously nodded his head, a couple beads of sweat shaking off of his curls as a result.

"I need an audible answer, baby."

"Hmmph," he said, digging his fingers into your hips in an attempt to try and lift you up.

Dissatisfied with him not listening to you, you snatched his wrists and yanked them up so that his hands hung above his head. He looked at you with a feeble pout, his eyes beginning to turn glossy from the tears of desperation that were burning in the back of his skull.

"You are gonna answer me with a verbal 'yes' or 'no' like a good boy or I'm gonna put my clothes back on and walk out of here right now." You were bluffing, of course. You wouldn't dream of walking out of the room during a moment as beautiful as this, but Michael didn't need to know that. "One more time, do you want me to start moving up and down?"

"Y-yes please. Please just move, hmph, I've been waiting forever for this, just please do it already~"

"I've been waiting forever for this." There it was. The proof you needed that the feelings you had for Michael for years now were indeed mutual. And no amount of "please's" or magic words were as effective in giving Michael what he wanted as that sweet phrase that you yourself had waited forever for.

"As you wish," you repeated yourself from earlier.

Fighting through the ache in your thighs, you lifted yourself all the way up until nothing but the very top of his tip was still inside of you and slammed yourself back down, both of your thighs creating a deafening clap on impact.

A stunned wail erupted from Michael's throat at the initial drop. He clung to you as if a gust of wind was enough to drag you away from him, burying his head into the crevice of your shoulder. You could feel the warm tears leaking out of his eyes and onto your collarbone as you maintained the same pattern of stroking his cock with your pussy from tip to base.

"Ooh, ah, ah, it feels so good... You feel so good~" Michael's voice wobbled with every bounce you did. After several strokes, you had finally gotten used to his size and could pick up the pace, bouncing so fast that Michael could no longer keep his head buried in your shoulder. You lifted him up by his curls and giggled at his face. The face of a man who was in shambles at this very moment in time. The face of a man who didn't have an ounce of control over anything and liked it like that. The face of a man who would do whatever you wanted right now, so long as you kept riding him.

His tear-stained eyes couldn't pull themselves away from your breasts jiggling to the rhythm. You were just about to start getting close, you could feel it, but you needed an extra push.

"Michael, baby," you cooed, "d'you wanna be a good boy and suck on my titties for me?"

No verbal response yet again. Instead, he answered by grabbing your right breast and enveloping his lips around your areola, visibly trying to shove as much of your tit into his mouth as he could. You moaned in surprise pleasure, enraptured to see him so eager to fulfill your request without second thought.

You continued riding him at a steady pace, both of your juices blending to form an off-white elixir that presented itself as a ring around the base of Michael's cock where you landed with each recoil. Your hands gripped and kneaded his curls, forming knots in his hair that he could care less about as his tongue swirled in circles and figure eights around your erected nipples. He sucked and slurped your breasts like it was his last meal, his toes curling as you pounded down onto him repeatedly.

It was when he began to lightly tug at your nipples with his teeth that you could start to feel it. That fire kindling deep within the pit of your stomach that gave you the warning. Hastily, you shoved Michael's face deeper into your chest, not wanting him to stray even a centimeter away from where he was, and he obliged with pleasure as you thrusted yourself all the way down onto his member and started to vigorously grind your throbbing clit on top of his pubic mound.

"That's it, Michael, I'm almost there… Oh God, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fucking cum~"

The friction from Michael's course pubic hair against your clit sent you into a frenzy as you felt the sensation of fireworks going off inside of you. Your hips stuttered against his as your diaphragm squeezed itself against your will to fill the room with your boisterous moans. Your nails dug into his scalp and your eyes rolled back until you could see nothing but the unidentifiable color of your eyelids. As you bucked your hips, riding out the last bit of your euphoria, your thighs squelched as all of the juices that expelled from your pussy found its way past the barrier that Michael's rock hard dick planted inside of you and spilled out of you and all over him, leaving itself as a glimmering puddle on his lap.

Your grinding slowed as the aftershocks of your cunt pulsing every few seconds like a heartbeat squeezed Michael's cock, but he frantically urged you not to stop now as his high was nearing.

"No, no, no, please, I've been a good boy, please don't stop now, I feel it coming~"

Suddenly regaining all of your energy, you went back to riding him in full force, pulling him away from your breasts and into your line of view so that you could watch his climax in all its glory.

"Yes, you've been such a good boy," you assured him, knowing full well that the floodgates would burst open the more you praised him. "You'll be the best boy in the world if you cum inside of me, baby. Don't be afraid, just let it all out."

"Uuuuughhh, mmmmph~" His eyes squeezed shut in concentration and his hips started to buck against yours, causing you to fall out of rhythm for a few seconds before you both found the right beat, your thighs pounding against each other with resounding claps before Michael's breathing hitched, his back arched, and he latched onto you.

"Ohh, ahh, I'm cumming, oh my God, I'm cumming!" he cried out. Your name fell mercilessly from his lips as thick ropes of warm cum spurted out of him and splattered onto the rigid walls of your pussy. Your cunt dragged his creamy liquid up and down his shaft, coating his entire dick as you still continued to ride him while he was finishing, doing your best to milk him dry. Loud wailing moans soon turned into mewling whines as the last bit of cum weakly dribbled out of Michael's fully pumped cock and you slowed down in time to feel him pulse inside of you before shrinking back down to his flaccid size.

None of you said anything for a while as you both caught your breaths and tried to register what just happened. Michael's head rested on your shoulder and you rubbed his back while murmuring praises in his ear about what a good job he did. Although when you did so, you could've sworn you felt one last gush of cum expel out of him as he jolted ever so slightly in your arms.

"Do you feel better?" you asked him. He lifted himself off of your shoulder, nodding his head and gulping heavily as if attempting to swallow a tablespoon of peanut butter before reaching over to his wallet, which had been resting on the ottoman pressed up against the bed this whole time, and pulling out a crisp $50 bill. You chuckled, having completely forgotten about that part of the deal before snatching the bill in between your index and middle finger like it was a cigarette and grabbing your jeans from the pile to tuck it into the pocket of.

"So, uh," Michael gulped once more, "what should we do now?" He was visibly love drunk, though you weren't sure if a cold shower would be enough to sober him up.

At this moment in time, you knew that it was in your guys' best interests to clean yourselves up and get dressed before anyone came in, but just for the sake of wanting to be funny, you had to ask:

The sound of the gate opening and a running engine gradually approaching roused you out of whatever sleep you were just about to fall into. You hopped off the hood of the red car that you were sitting on top of, anxious to finally to be released from the shackles of watching this game. Michael stepped out of the car and greeted all of you before excitedly making his way over to the trunk. Once Bill opened the trunk, Michael yanked a familiar game out of a big blue shopping bag.

"Guys look, I got Twister! You wanna play tonight?" Michael just barely finished his sentence before all the boys started laughing at him.

"Twister? Really?"

"What are we gonna do with Twister?"

The smile that made Michael's face radiate like the sun depleted ever so slightly. "Come on, it'll be like the old days," he countered.

"We'd love to, Mike, but I gotta be at home with the family, I can't be playing games," argued Jermaine before immediately reverting his attention back to the ball.

"And the rest of us are going out tonight."

"Yeah, Marlon's got a hot date."

Michael cradled the box in the nook of his arm, a subtle look of dejection lingering in his eyes. "Marlon, what time are you gonna be home? We can play then."

Before Marlon could respond, Tito answered for him. "Marlon's gonna be playing his own game of Twister tonight."

They all went back to laughing, and in a series of rather fortunate events, you swooped in to snatch your chance of getting what you came here for: some alone time with Michael.

"I'll play with you," you said, and the light came back to his eyes as quickly as it left.

"At least there's one person around here who knows how to have fun," Michael responded, speaking indirectly to his brothers. "Come on then, the faster we get to my room, the more time we have to play." 

With haste, Michael bolted to the front door of the house as you chased after him, laughter from the both of you filling the air as you ran past.

Whether 30 minutes had passed or 3 hours, it was difficult to tell. You and Michael had played an unfathomable number of rounds, and that same yawn that you stifled earlier started haunting your throat again. Michael on the other hand still had enough energy to play until the cows came home.

"Let's play one more round," Michael said, mimicking his words from the past 5 rounds while smoothing out the mat.

You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle another round of the same dreary game. It's not that you wanted to stop playing, it's just that you wanted to spice things up a bit. Twister would've been a blast to play on its own for 50+ plus rounds back when you were in grade school, but you were an adult now which meant you had a different, and slightly more raunchy idea of fun.

Just as that thought passed through your head, a light bulb went off and a devious grin crept on your face. Oh yes. Not only would the brilliant idea that just popped into your head make for a much more interesting game, but it would lead you right to where you wanted to be with Michael. Right to where you've wanted to be with him for years now.

"Michael, why don't we switch it up a bit? Play a different version of Twister than the one we've been playing this whole time?"

"A different version? Like what?"

"Strip Twister."

His head shot up. You could tell he was physically trying to restrain his eyes from popping out of his head. "Strip Twister?"

"Yeah, I learned how to play it from an old friend at summer camp several years ago. You play the game like how you normally would, but every time someone falls, that person has to remove an article of clothing and the game doesn't end until one of us is naked."

Michael chuckled uneasily. "I don't know if it's a good idea to play that version."

"Why not?" you asked in feigned oblivion.

"Because one of us is gonna end up seeing the other naked!" Michael exclaimed, though his tone of voice and body language didn't really express the same level of opposition as the words coming out of his mouth.

"Oh please, I took sex ed in school, I know what boys look like down there. Besides, we're not strangers. It's not that much different from seeing each other in our bathing suits."

Michael's face was unreadable. Worried that you had overstepped a boundary, your brain scrambled to find a way to go back in time 30 seconds and never mention the Strip Twister, but what Michael said next nearly made your own eyes pop out of your head.

"50 bucks says I'm the last one clothed by the end."

The same devious grin from earlier revisited your face, and you both shook hands to seal the deal; the last instance of purely platonic physical contact that you two would engage in for the rest of the day.

At the end of round 1, your socks were sacrificed. At the end of round 2, it was Michael's turn to sacrifice his socks. The finale of round 3 constituted the removal of Michael's plain white t-shirt, but round 4 was where you had to give up your Jordache jeans. After Michael's arms gave out on him in round 5, you teased him with a wolf-whistle as he discarded his black sweats, revealing the Mickey Mouse boxers he was wearing underneath. You nearly broke the skin on your bottom lip biting down on it to suppress your laughter. Round 6 was a close game, but your halter top was the next article of clothing that ended up on the floor at the end of that round.

Now in nothing but your second skins, the stakes were at an all time high. Michael was determined to be the last man standing (or clothed in this case) but you needed him to lose this next round to carry out your master plan as intended.

Michael was virtually heaving at this point and sounded breathless every time he spoke. You were shocked that he hadn't gotten a boner yet, especially considering the way he couldn't take his eyes off of your body. He spun the wheel right next to him. "Alright, right hand red."

Bullseye. There was no better body part/color combination that the arrow could've landed on, because with just one convenient placement of your right hand on the red dot all the way to the far edge of the mat, you were now promoted to hovering on top of Michael. The cloth prison that your breasts were still confined in left little to the imagination as your nipples prodded through the thin fabric in perfect line with Michael's gaze. His breath was hot on your cleavage and you could hear just the faintest bit of shakiness in it. And it wasn't long after you got into the new position that you felt something lightly press up against your underwear with more and more force by the second. It was as if whatever the mystery object was that was pressing up against your core was growing. The tiniest gasp escaped from Michael's mouth and he lowered his body as close to the ground as he could without actually touching it. There it was. You now wished you could go back to the crab-walk stance to see the mountain growing in his boxers in real time.

You leaned forward to be able to reach the arrow on the wheel and determine Michael's fate. He had turned his head to the side out of politeness when he saw you reach forward, but his willpower to remain gentlemanly was subpar at best because you clocked several instances of him glancing back at your breasts in the 5 seconds it took for the arrow to land on left foot red.

A Robin Hood Bullseye. Michael's left foot was all the way on the green dot farthest to the edge of the mat in line with where your right hand was. There was no way he would be able to get it all the way over to red without losing his balance and falling, especially with you on top of him limiting the amount of space he had for his leg to move.

He looked up at you with pleading eyes once he realized how rigorous this feat would be to accomplish, but he was only met with a witty smirk in return.

After a great deal of stalling, Michael revved himself up to hoist his left foot off of the green spot and plant it onto the red spot directly next to the one your right hand was on, but his strategy was foiled when his foot got stuck to the mat and caused him to collapse dramatically underneath you.

You cheered in victory, lifting yourself off of him to jump in the air and chant your triumph as he lay in the same position he fell in, his arms crossed weakly on top of his torso and his head rolled back in laughter. As much as he hated losing a game to you, he loved watching you put on a show every time you won. Once you finished rubbing your victory in his face, you plopped down right next to him and Michael briskly lifted his left knee up to hide the front of his boxers.

You rubbed his arms up and down, gently squeezing his lean biceps. "The $50 you can give me later, but Mickey Mouse is gonna have to say goodbye right now." You transitioned your hands from his biceps to the waistband of his underwear, and even through his deep brown skin, you could see the faintest hint of red looming on his cheeks before he covered his face with his hands and playfully tried to kick you away.

"No! Please!" he begged through a fit of giggles. "C'mon, let's do best out of 3."

"It doesn't work like that, applehead."

Michael carried on with his laughing fit for some time while you continued to toy with his waistband. At this point, he was fighting back less and less with each graze of your hand past his navel. In fact, he wasn't really putting much effort into hiding his erection anymore either. His legs now lay completely relaxed and flat on the floor, giving you a full view of the outline of his thick cock laying off to one side and protruding through the fabric, begging for some form of escape.

Curious as to whether he was no longer hiding his growing appendage on purpose or if he simply forgot it was there, you tugged his boxers down the slightest bit, just enough to see where the dark curls of his pubic hair began. He didn't stop you. He simply shuddered as another row of muffled giggles came out of his mouth. When he finally removed his hands from his face, he gazed up at you with a glimmer in his eyes that was anything but platonic.

"You're not stopping me," you pointed out.

Michael shook his head, looking as though he just got hit with Cupid's arrow.

You crossed your arms and sat back on your heels. "You figured out the reason why I suggested Strip Twister in the first place, didn't you?"

Michael nodded.

"So then you know where this is heading?"

He nodded once more.

"And you want me to continue?"

"Please," he squeaked, struggling to quell a smile that almost touched his eyes.

"Well," you swung a leg over to sit on top of him and bent down until his face was a blur in your eyes, "since you asked so nicely."

The gasp that emerged from Michael's mouth as you seated yourself directly on top of his aching bulge was briskly silenced by the delicate kiss you planted on his lips. You pulled back after the first initial peck to catch his reaction, and you were pleasantly surprised to see him lift his head up off the ground in a desperate attempt to meet your lips again.

Your hand found its way to the back of his head, cradling his curls, dampened by preliminary sweat, as you brought your lips to his once more. You lingered there for a little while longer this time, making sure to savor his taste. You hadn't realized just how starving you were for him until now, and neither did he. His hands maneuvered to your back to hold onto you, pulling you in until your bodies were pressing against each other. As your lips fought to consume one another, you grabbed hold of his hands and guided them to the hook of your bra. With a swift unclasp, the bra slid right off and down your arms before being thrown onto the pile with the rest of the discarded clothes.

A mini sigh of relief fell from your lips and trickled into Michael's mouth. Your breasts lay freely on his chest and your hearts synced together, thumping at a rapid pace as the dizziness in your heads made you both feel like your brains were being carried by ocean waves. Was this actually happening? Or did you fall asleep while watching the brothers play basketball and you were just dreaming right now? You would've pinched yourself to know for sure, but you much preferred the feeling of Michael's fingers desperately gripping your thighs as opposed to your own.

As much as Michael's sickly sweet lips satisfied your craving orally, your core still remained starved for the delicacy that lay between his legs. Lightly, your hips began to rock back and forth on his clothed member. Michael whimpered, his legs wriggling beneath you and his hands dancing in a mixture of balling themselves into fists and retracting.

The slickness from your cunt began to coat the entire bottom of your panties, making the part of Michael's boxers that his shaft hugged so tightly sopping wet as well. For whatever part of his boxers wasn't soaked from your juices, the precum oozing out of him finished the job.

What started as a gentle back-and-forth motion eventually turned into aggressive grinding. These damn panties and boxers were in your way, barricading you from the real thing, and no matter how hard you rubbed yourself on Michael, it wasn't enough. He must've felt the same way, because while you were both still tongue-deep in each other's mouths, you felt his fingers tuck themselves into the sides of your panties, signaling to you that he wanted you to take them off.

You lifted yourself up, met with a whiny protest from Michael, and bit your lip as you smiled pompously. "I'm sorry, was I the one that lost Twister?" you asked him.

He shook his head, his eyes stark on your tits.

"That's right. You were the one that lost, which means these have to come off first," you said, playfully tugging at his boxers.

You teased him for what was realistically about 2 minutes, but to him, it felt like hours. You snaked your hands underneath the boxers to squeeze and knead his trembling thighs before migrating them over to his cock, which was still fully clothed, giving him a lazy hand job that made him squirm and writhe defenselessly.

"Please… Just take it off… I can't… I need… Mmph."

You giggled, butterflies going haywire in the pit of your stomach. You had never seen him act like this before, so needy and entirely helpless at your disposal. You would've teased him for even longer just to see how much he could handle before he cracked, but at this point, your legs were starting to quiver as well, and you had become so wet that you could physically feel the fluid dripping out of your pussy in real time.

"As you wish," you gladly stated, and with one sturdy pull, his boxers were dragged down from his hips and off of his legs.

Michael sighed in relief as his dick sprang free, slapping his stomach and leaving a thin string of precum connecting his glistening tip to the spot that it hit before standing fully upright.

You swallowed your breath. They say that the camera adds 10 lbs. Well, it must've been the case that Mickey Mouse boxers subtract 10 lbs, because the silhouette of his dick in his underwear could not even begin to compare to how big it looked when it was wild and free.

Slightly curved towards himself with speckles of lighter skin all around and a broad vein running down the shaft, you guesstimated that his dick must've been at the very least 7 and a half inches, maybe even 8. You became a bit nervous. You weren't a virgin, unlike Michael, but none of the other guys you had been with in the past were even remotely close in size to him. Was all that going to fit inside of you? There was only one way to find out, and God, you couldn't wait to find out the answer.

In a tantalizing manner, you grabbed hold of his hands and tucked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, silently giving him permission to do what he wanted to do 3 minutes ago. With shaky hands, he carefully slid your underwear off of you, his hands gliding down your thighs before you briskly passed your feet through the holes and threw them onto the pile, topping it off like the star on a Christmas tree.

Eager for the main event with your slickness now crawling down onto your inner thighs, you pounced on top of Michael, grabbing hold of his face and planting your lips onto his once more. As your tongues danced with each other and his hands went back to caressing your body, focusing on the parts that weren't accessible to him until now, yours slithered down, gliding past his throat where you could feel his heart beating inside of it, past his chest covered in a thick sheen of perspiration, past his stomach where you traced the lines that made up his delicate abs, and past the mound of curly black pubic hair until they wrapped around his pulsating cock.

Michael expelled a drawn-out mewl as you stroked him thoroughly, starting at the very bottom of the base and pushing up until his foreskin swallowed the tip before you glided your hand back down and the glistening head bloomed once more. The squelching noises accompanied by Michael's kitten-like whimpers were music to your ears.

"Please, please," he begged as you continued to fondle him, rotating your hands as you went up and down to ensure that no part of his dick was left unstroked, "I just wanna be inside you already, please…"

You fought hard to suppress a shudder, having almost came right then and there from hearing him say that. You had spent this whole time having a ball teasing Michael to the point of madness that you hadn't realized just how close you were to your own tipping point until he said those magic words in that delectably high-pitched voice of his. It was in that moment that you released your hands from his cock and pulled him up so that he was sitting upright, leaning against the edge of his bed as opposed to laying flat on the floor like he had been this whole time. You needed to be face to face with him for this moment.

You maneuvered yourself to hover over his cock, wrapping your arms around his neck and touching your foreheads together as he gripped and kneaded your ass with desperation. It almost felt like he was trying to push your hips down. You took the hint and finally lowered yourself onto him at long last. As his lubed tip began to pierce through your hole, shockwaves of pleasure emanated through the both of you, starting at the base of your groins and dispersing all throughout your bodies until you could feel the tingles passing through each follicle of hair on your scalp. Michael's head rolled back as a moan of intense relief escaped from his throat, and your mouth hung open as you felt his member stretch your ribbed walls inch by inch.

Your thighs trembled like mad trying their absolute hardest to hold your weight as you slowly drew yourself down. 1 inch, 2 inches, 3 inches, 4 inches. It burned so good. You viciously sucked on his neck trying to distract yourself from the pain, knowing that pure bliss was coming soon, and the vibrations that his moans set off on your teeth helped open your cunt to let him in deeper. 5 inches, 6 inches, 7 inches…

Soon your pussy swallowed all 8 inches of him and your trembling thighs were finally rewarded with resting on top of his as you both let out a low-drawn groan in unison. You stayed there for a little while, wanting to relish in the feeling of his dick being hugged tightly by the slick walls of your cunt.

"God, you're so big, it's making me so full," you whispered breathlessly against the skin of his neck. "You want me to start moving up and down?"

An incomprehensible noise emitted from Michael's throat as he furiously nodded his head, a couple beads of sweat shaking off of his curls as a result.

"I need an audible answer, baby."

"Hmmph," he said, digging his fingers into your hips in an attempt to try and lift you up.

Dissatisfied with him not listening to you, you snatched his wrists and yanked them up so that his hands hung above his head. He looked at you with a feeble pout, his eyes beginning to turn glossy from the tears of desperation that were burning in the back of his skull.

"You are gonna answer me with a verbal 'yes' or 'no' like a good boy or I'm gonna put my clothes back on and walk out of here right now." You were bluffing, of course. You wouldn't dream of walking out of the room during a moment as beautiful as this, but Michael didn't need to know that. "One more time, do you want me to start moving up and down?"

"Y-yes please. Please just move, hmph, I've been waiting forever for this, just please do it already~"

"I've been waiting forever for this." There it was. The proof you needed that the feelings you had for Michael for years now were indeed mutual. And no amount of "please's" or magic words were as effective in giving Michael what he wanted as that sweet phrase that you yourself had waited forever for.

"As you wish," you repeated yourself from earlier.

Fighting through the ache in your thighs, you lifted yourself all the way up until nothing but the very top of his tip was still inside of you and slammed yourself back down, both of your thighs creating a deafening clap on impact.

A stunned wail erupted from Michael's throat at the initial drop. He clung to you as if a gust of wind was enough to drag you away from him, burying his head into the crevice of your shoulder. You could feel the warm tears leaking out of his eyes and onto your collarbone as you maintained the same pattern of stroking his cock with your pussy from tip to base.

"Ooh, ah, ah, it feels so good... You feel so good~" Michael's voice wobbled with every bounce you did. After several strokes, you had finally gotten used to his size and could pick up the pace, bouncing so fast that Michael could no longer keep his head buried in your shoulder. You lifted him up by his curls and giggled at his face. The face of a man who was in shambles at this very moment in time. The face of a man who didn't have an ounce of control over anything and liked it like that. The face of a man who would do whatever you wanted right now, so long as you kept riding him.

His tear-stained eyes couldn't pull themselves away from your breasts jiggling to the rhythm. You were just about to start getting close, you could feel it, but you needed an extra push.

"Michael, baby," you cooed, "d'you wanna be a good boy and suck on my titties for me?"

No verbal response yet again. Instead, he answered by grabbing your right breast and enveloping his lips around your areola, visibly trying to shove as much of your tit into his mouth as he could. You moaned in surprise pleasure, enraptured to see him so eager to fulfill your request without second thought.

You continued riding him at a steady pace, both of your juices blending to form an off-white elixir that presented itself as a ring around the base of Michael's cock where you landed with each recoil. Your hands gripped and kneaded his curls, forming knots in his hair that he could care less about as his tongue swirled in circles and figure eights around your erected nipples. He sucked and slurped your breasts like it was his last meal, his toes curling as you pounded down onto him repeatedly.

It was when he began to lightly tug at your nipples with his teeth that you could start to feel it. That fire kindling deep within the pit of your stomach that gave you the warning. Hastily, you shoved Michael's face deeper into your chest, not wanting him to stray even a centimeter away from where he was, and he obliged with pleasure as you thrusted yourself all the way down onto his member and started to vigorously grind your throbbing clit on top of his pubic mound.

"That's it, Michael, I'm almost there… Oh God, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fucking cum~"

The friction from Michael's course pubic hair against your clit sent you into a frenzy as you felt the sensation of fireworks going off inside of you. Your hips stuttered against his as your diaphragm squeezed itself against your will to fill the room with your boisterous moans. Your nails dug into his scalp and your eyes rolled back until you could see nothing but the unidentifiable color of your eyelids. As you bucked your hips, riding out the last bit of your euphoria, your thighs squelched as all of the juices that expelled from your pussy found its way past the barrier that Michael's rock hard dick planted inside of you and spilled out of you and all over him, leaving itself as a glimmering puddle on his lap.

Your grinding slowed as the aftershocks of your cunt pulsing every few seconds like a heartbeat squeezed Michael's cock, but he frantically urged you not to stop now as his high was nearing.

"No, no, no, please, I've been a good boy, please don't stop now, I feel it coming~"

Suddenly regaining all of your energy, you went back to riding him in full force, pulling him away from your breasts and into your line of view so that you could watch his climax in all its glory.

"Yes, you've been such a good boy," you assured him, knowing full well that the floodgates would burst open the more you praised him. "You'll be the best boy in the world if you cum inside of me, baby. Don't be afraid, just let it all out."

"Uuuuughhh, mmmmph~" His eyes squeezed shut in concentration and his hips started to buck against yours, causing you to fall out of rhythm for a few seconds before you both found the right beat, your thighs pounding against each other with resounding claps before Michael's breathing hitched, his back arched, and he latched onto you.

"Ohh, ahh, I'm cumming, oh my God, I'm cumming!" he cried out. Your name fell mercilessly from his lips as thick ropes of warm cum spurted out of him and splattered onto the rigid walls of your pussy. Your cunt dragged his creamy liquid up and down his shaft, coating his entire dick as you still continued to ride him while he was finishing, doing your best to milk him dry. Loud wailing moans soon turned into mewling whines as the last bit of cum weakly dribbled out of Michael's fully pumped cock and you slowed down in time to feel him pulse inside of you before shrinking back down to his flaccid size.

None of you said anything for a while as you both caught your breaths and tried to register what just happened. Michael's head rested on your shoulder and you rubbed his back while murmuring praises in his ear about what a good job he did. Although when you did so, you could've sworn you felt one last gush of cum expel out of him as he jolted ever so slightly in your arms.

"Do you feel better?" you asked him. He lifted himself off of your shoulder, nodding his head and gulping heavily as if attempting to swallow a tablespoon of peanut butter before reaching over to his wallet, which had been resting on the ottoman pressed up against the bed this whole time, and pulling out a crisp $50 bill. You chuckled, having completely forgotten about that part of the deal before snatching the bill in between your index and middle finger like it was a cigarette and grabbing your jeans from the pile to tuck it into the pocket of.

"So, uh," Michael gulped once more, "what should we do now?" He was visibly love drunk, though you weren't sure if a cold shower would be enough to sober him up.

At this moment in time, you knew that it was in your guys' best interests to clean yourselves up and get dressed before anyone came in, but just for the sake of wanting to be funny, you had to ask:

“C’mere ‘n kiss me, pretty boy.”

You knew that was gonna get him going, and that’s exactly why you said it.

Michael practically flew to the bed after shutting off your shared bedroom’s light and almost throwing his reading glasses on his nightstand. A small part of you wanted to roll your eyes at the subconscious action; he never wanted the lights on, and all you wanted to do was see his pretty face contorted in pleasure while he fucked you into the sheets. The only light coming through the room was from the TV on your dresser, silently humming in the background.

“Mmm, you smell so good,” he whispered to you shyly in between pecks.

You knew. You took extra time with your skincare and shower tonight, purposefully applying lotions and body oils that you noticed made him crazy.

Making a conscious decision not to give him any sort of relief, you changed your position from being on your side to straddling his thighs, careful not to to grind the prominent bulge growing underneath his endearing money-print pajamas. He wasn’t wearing underwear, perfect.

He pulled away, eyeing you with heavy lids. He was so easy for you and you took advantage of that fact any time you could.

“This lil’ number…You look perfect. Like a doll.” He bit his lip and adjusted your strap as his gaze traveled down the length of the red slip dress you were wearing. His favorite color.

Cupping the back of your neck with his hand, he pulled you in for another kiss, this one hungrier than the last.

His tongue immediately darted into your mouth the moment your lips parted, wasting no time for a buildup. He was starving.

You pulled away as far as you could with his strong grip on your neck.

“Someone’s a little eager. You hungry, daddy?” you teased, drawing out ‘daddy’ the way you did when you wanted to push his buttons. It worked. He made a little tortured sound at the back of his throat and cleared it to hide it.

Irritated with his bashfulness, you started slowly grinding against his thighs, stopping just short of his surely leaking sex.

“‘Cause I am,” you added.

He fluttered his eyes, not leaving them closed nor open, torn between shutting them in anticipated pleasure or watching the dreamlike scene in front of him.

“Stop hidin’. I wanna see those pretty eyes. Please, baby?” you asked him sweetly. The two of you loved this little game you had; you pretended he was daddy, and you asked him please, and you told him thank you, but you were always in control. Something about the act of asking for ‘permission’ and taking the ‘control’ from Michael added to the fun.

His eyeballs flew open immediately, almost comically bulging. Leaning down teasingly slow, you connected your lips once again, and his large hand, still at the nape of your neck, held you impossibly close. With your tongues swirling and your core still grinding painfully close to his, he was swimming in need. It only worsened when you started moaning into his mouth like a cat in heat. He wanted to whine out so badly, but the idea of you hearing how pathetic he was getting stopped him.

His free hand snaked its way to your waist and attempted to pull you closer, to break that infinitesimal gap between you. Not wanting to give in, you slapped it away harshly and placed your hand on his neck, daring to squeeze.

“Oh, god. You’re gonna drive me insane, baby. Please,” he almost whined. He attempted to dive back in for another kiss to conceal how flustered he was. You pressed your other hand to his chest and pushed him into the pillows.

“Whatcha pleadin’ for?” you questioned seductively, tightening the grip around his neck ever so slightly.

“C’mon, you gonna make me say it?” He looked at you, offended.

“Use your words, love. I’m not a mind reader y’know.” You felt on top of the world.

Michael was soaking through his pajama pants now; you could feel a wet spot on its fabric. With this in mind, you faked a yawn, setting your plan into action.

He still said nothing.

“Mmm, well I’m tired. Gonna go to sleep, ‘kay?” You adjusted your hands and position on top of him so fast, it seemed almost impossible that you were close to making him cum untouched.

“W-wait, we didn’t even get to do…I want…” he trailed off.

“Hm?” You pretended to be confused, feeling him adjust himself beneath you.

“I…ah-” Your body pressed against his hard on, as you pretended to innocently give him a hug, “N-nothing. G’night, angel. I love you.”

You pressed a kiss to his chin, shifting your hips against his again, and whispered, “I love you, Mikey. Gonna dream of you.”

He slightly titled his body over to let you roll off of him, and tucked you under the blankets tenderly, trying his hardest to ignore the unattended lust growing inside of him.

Michael decided to try and pay attention to the old black & white comedy on television, but every few minutes, he’d take a look at you and his dick would throb hungrily. You were wearing nothing under your slip dress, and your bare ass and sticky folds were peeking through the edge of the blanket on top of you.

After about 10 minutes, you made a show of taking loud, even breaths in an attempt to prove that you’d fallen asleep. You started softly sighing and whimpering ever so slightly- the way you knew you always did in your sleep- only this time more suggestively.

Around minute 14, you’d almost given up on the whole act, realizing Michael was probably too shy to even think about touching himself next to you, even if you were asleep. You were wrong.

He couldn’t take it. He tried. Really, truly tried, but he was hurting, and it’s not like he’d have to tell you.

Hesitantly, after lifting the blanket off of your backside to reveal your naked body to him some more, he quietly drooled into his hand and dipped it into his pants. His fingers lingered on his pelvis, trailing teasing paths around the area just like you would. The thought of your hand there made him lose himself too quickly, and his wet and sticky hand found his sore dick and tugged graciously from base to tip.

The absolute…pervertedness of his actions only somehow turned him on more. The fact that you could wake up to take a sip of water, or you could turn over to him wanting to cuddle…It all added to the desire.

A secret part of him wanted to be caught. To be humiliated by you seeing the worked up state you coaxed him into.

The waistband of his pajama pants became a barrier, a nuisance of an obstacle stopping him from experiencing the extent of pleasure that he wanted to. If he was gonna do this, he might as well go all the way, right?

So, he slid them off with his legs, not enough care in his mind to see if the movement made you stir in your sleep.

He jerked himself with an easier motion now: up and twist, and down and tug, and up and twist. Over and over and over. The exact way you did with both of your pretty hands.

“Mmph,” he whimpered. Silently, but it was still louder than he’d usually let you hear.

Your heart pounded brutally. He was really doing it.

Being greedy, you stirred a bit in your ‘sleep,’ positioning yourself in between being on your back and on your side, in his direction. You let out a theatrical sleep moan, and Michael froze.

He looked you over for a bit, focusing on your face to make sure you weren’t looking. Then, his horny gaze flitted to what was in between your thighs, wide open and fully on display for him. He continued.

She’s still so wet for me, he thought to himself.

The truth was, you were unfortunately getting wetter and wetter just by hearing him while you were turned around.

Facing him without watching was proving to be a challenge though, because he started making noise, and lots of it.

“God- yes. Please…please…” he begged. He was still looking at you through lidded eyes and tugging his dick at a relentlessly slow pace, imagining you teasing him and making him beg for it.

You squeezed your thighs together a little too harshly, feeling the pressure on your clit at the action.

He looked at you more intensely then, still pumping himself, but taken by surprise at the loud slap of your legs closing.

“No…” he whispered to himself. He wanted you to stay spread.

He reached his free hand over and separated your legs again, taking in just how close you’d gotten to him while you tossed and turned. The scent of your body oil hit the back of his throat at the same time he twisted his wrist at his tip, and he moaned. A full, throaty moan of erotic pleasure and need, and he didn’t even care.

Still having half a mind not to wake you, he ghosted his fingers over one of your inner thighs. He needed to touch you. To ground himself. That only made it worse, though, because he felt your arousal half dried on your thigh.

“O-oh. Angel, please...L-love it when…” He was speaking nonsense now, just saying any thought that came into his head. He’s never been this loud masturbating even completely alone.

His pumping grew faster, and you could hear the lewd sounds of his precum and spit squelching around his patterned dick. You wanted to look so badly.

“P…lease, I-i’ll be good. Please, please…” he babbled.

What’s he thinkin’ about? you wondered to yourself.

He was trying to edge himself. Just like you did. He was gripping his base harder and speeding up his jerking just the way you would whenever you were working him to an orgasm, only to snatch it away from him.

His hand snaked closer to your pussy, and he collected the arousal. He was craving this. He stuffed his fingers into his mouth, and his eyes fluttered shut at the taste.

“Ngh, so good, b-baby,” he moaned around his fingers, complimenting his mind’s imagination of you. He was being unabashedly loud now, the desire to be caught fucking his own fist like a needy loser ever growing.

The feeling of your body heat next to him while he did this was only adding fuel to the fire rising to his abdomen. He was so close. Droplets of his precum were landing on his pelvis in bursts.

“So close- ngh- ahh- I need-” He yanked his hand away immediately — he almost orgasmed.

“Dammit…” he protested to nobody. Removing his fingers from his drooling mouth, he looked at you and started pumping his crying sex slowly again.

“S-so pretty…” He scooted closer to you, his shoulder grazing yours, and placed his hand right back on top of your sticky pussy.

“‘M sorry, mama. Th-this is so dirty..” he apologized as if you could hear him. It was more to spare his own guilt, though. Your eyes fluttered slightly, and he traced one long finger across your clit, making you mewl silently. At the sight and sound of you getting worked up in your ‘sleep,’ he grew even more desperate than before. The pace he had set for himself quickened, and he flattened his hand against your folds. He wasn’t moving it, he just wanted to feel you.

Up, twist, down, yank, up, twist, down, tug.

His pace was almost unforgiving, his hand was moving so fast he couldn’t even believe he was doing it himself. The atmosphere felt electric. His precum was settling between the webs of his fingers, he was fully twitching against your side, and his eyes never left the sight of his huge hand blanketing your core.

“F-fu…I’m…AGH-” His body jolted upwards and his scream caught in the back of his throat. The pressure of Michael’s release felt like a water balloon hitting asphalt; a violent shatter. His toes curled in a way that would surely make them cramp later, he gripped your inner thigh, and his hips stuttered and spasmed as he milked himself dry. He moaned and whimpered and cried and thanked your relaxed figure.

Your heart was hammering, and you squinted just so you could see him in this state. He was beautiful. His hair was stuck to his forehead and flat against the back of his head. Cum was splattered against his abdomen, thighs, and pelvis. His mouth was shaped in an ‘O’, and his eyebrows were knotted so tight, it looked like it should hurt. You were awestruck.

He finally fell limp after what felt like the longest orgasm known to mankind, and he slid his hand off of you and scooted away a bit. His mind was unfogging just enough to care about your personal space and beauty sleep now.

Breathing finally even, he stretched his hands up and took a deep breath, feeling unbelievably satisfied and guilty.

Your eyes were fully open now, staring the side of his head down, and he hadn’t noticed. Reaching over silently, you swiped a droplet of cum off of his stomach and sucked your finger, moaning around it loudly. His heart nearly fell to his toes when he looked at you, guilt written all over his face.

“Thanks for the show, daddy. You sing beautifully.”

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