midah

michael’s big, calloused yet soft palms caressing your thighs, which are clothed by the silk, see through material of your nightgown. each of your legs are on either side of his own. your hands grip his shoulders as he stares up at you, big, sparkly eyes gleaming under the light of the fluorescent lightbulb above your heads.

“michael,” you whine as he leans forward into your neck, pulling you toward him, “too late for this…”

“you been fussin’ all night, mama,” he whispers into your skin. the scent of baby powder gets him drunk. the kisses start from one side of your neck to the other, then down to your collarbones, a particularly sensitive area for you. “lemme loosen you up.” his soft, nearly whiny voice makes you wince, your toes curling up and finger nails digging into his shoulder blades.

you had been fussing all night, ranting to michael about an end of year party your boss was forcing you to attend. it was nearly 11pm at night, both you and michael getting ready to turn all the lights off. he’d been tucked into bed a long time ago, fist balled up under his chin as his eyes followed you as you paced up and down the room, visibly stressed. then you sat down at last and lifted your sheer, ruffle pajama dress just enough to lotion your legs.

that’s when michael stopped listening.

he’d nodded mindlessly to your rambling when you turned to him, frustrated because it appeared he wasn’t listening as he’d stopped supplying a string of interested “hmm”s.

“you think i’m being dumb, don’t you?” you had pouted, your eyes becoming comically large as you stared at him, waiting for a favourable answer.

and a favourable one you got as he’d guided you onto his lap. “mhm,” michael had shook his head. “not at all baby… i think you need some good lovin’ tonight to cool down that pretty little head of yours.”

your pretty little head is anything but cooled.

there’s an ugly, primal urge building from the pit of your stomach as michael pushes you up against him. you feel it. it’s hard and pulsing and maybe even leaking through his pajama pants, too.

fuck, just by sitting in his lap, you lose all resolve–he loses all resolve.

a yelp escapes you as he grips your ass, but he just chuckles against your ear. the sound brings a forceful pulse to between your legs and you nearly lean all the way backwards. you try to squeeze your legs together, but michael’s thighs are in the way.

you can barely take it anymore and michael knows it. he’s like this a lot–a tease, sly when it comes to getting you to cower by his touch–contrary to what people may know him to be. long, warm, mischievous fingers trace the back of your neck and you shiver–moan–because fuck, his touch is so electrifying.

“love this cute lil’ nightdown, baby,” this warmth against your ear as he talks, soft yet cunning, makes you grind up against him and he feels it. michael’s trying to keep his cool, but even he is starting to falter. “...imma need it off…” he finally, finally speaks against your lips. they tremble. you can’t think straight.

but you nod nonetheless, whimpering for confirmation.

michael sneaks his hands–god you go crazy over them–sneakily under your nightgown. he’d been able to see everything through the sheer material all this time–your tummy, navel, your perky, hard nipples. michael is barely surprised when he discovers your panties were nowhere for him to touch. he’d been feeling the heat from your bare core this entire time. the juices on his crotch weren’t his own.

“hmmm…” you shut your eyes as you lunge forward, shyly burying your face in his neck. “take it off… need you bad, mikey…”

and that’s it for him. he keeps your head tucked into his nape and lifts your hips so he can shuffle his pants down, just enough so you can take him in. when you do, he moves to yank the nightgown off your body. michael’s eyes are glued to your breasts, soft, round, sagging as a woman’s normally does and perfect. you’re the most perfect thing to him.

when you’re visibly upset and ranting like a mad man…

when you’re sitting on his lap, fucked out after barely being caressed and teased…

and when you’re taking him nice and slow, eyebrows furrowed and mouth hung open, emitting the quietest, most euphonious mewls he’s ever heard a woman make.