bambi

description: michael’s been trying to win you over for longer than you care to admit. keeping your distance has always been easy—until it isn’t. sometimes, all it takes is one conversation.

content: 18+, SMUT, switch!reader, switch!michael, phone sex, overstimulation, squirting, GUYS THIS ONE IS REALLY NASTY

a/n: ummm… it’s 6k words… i got carried away yall. smut with a hint of plot, i’m willing to write a pt. 2 🙂‍↕️ (this is a long smut read!) not proofread i’m too damn sleepy!

꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ

𐙚🧸ྀི the jackson estate has always felt like a second home to you.

being latoya’s best friend means you know hayven hurst better than most people. you know which rooms stay quiet during the afternoon, which windows are always open when music is playing, and which corners of the property you can escape to when the world starts feeling too loud.

being a few years older never mattered between you and latoya. she had always been mature for her age, and you had always admired how easily she could make anyone feel welcome.

your father owns a successful company, so you’re not unfamiliar with attention or expectations, but you’ve never been someone who chases after it. you prefer keeping things simple. private. predictable.

you were old enough to know exactly who you were, and old enough to know that attention wasn’t the same thing as affection.

you had your own routines, your own goals, and a life outside of the jackson name. you didn’t need to be introduced as anyone’s daughter, anyone’s friend, or anyone’s love interest.

which is probably why michael jackson is such a problem; because michael is everything you usually avoid.

he’s warm when you’re distant. he’s patient when you’re stubborn. and no matter how many times you brush him off, he always finds a way to make you smile.

it’s not that you don’t like him. that’s just the part you refuse to admit.

you like the way he remembers small things about you. you like the way he laughs when you make sarcastic comments. you like how, despite being one of the most recognizable people in the world, he somehow makes conversations with him feel normal.

but you know what comes with him. you know what it means to be close to michael jackson. the attention. the rumors. the constant eyes watching every move, and the idea of having your life connected to someone the entire world feels entitled to.

so you keep your distance. you become the one person who doesn’t immediately fall for his charm, and michael notices.

“you know, i’m starting to think you enjoy turning me down,” he jokes one afternoon, leaning against the doorway while you and latoya sit outside.

you glance over at him, a small smirk forming. ““you’re charming, michael. i’ll give you that. but charm doesn’t make things simple.”

he laughs softly, shaking his head. “that’s cruel.”

“you’ll survive.” but the truth is, you like watching him try.

there’s something amusing about how someone like michael jackson, someone who can have almost anything he wants, seems determined to earn your attention.

a few nights later, latoya has a sleepover.

the room is filled with laughter, music playing quietly in the background, and empty snack wrappers scattered across the floor. everyone is comfortable, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

until janet gets the idea. “i dare you to sneak downstairs and get more snacks.”

you immediately look up. “seriously?”

latoya grins. “yes, seriously.” you roll your eyes, pretending you’re annoyed, but you’re already getting up. “fine. but only because i’m hungry.”

the halls of hayven hurst are quiet when you step downstairs. the house feels completely different at night. calmer. almost peaceful.

you walk into the kitchen, opening the cabinet doors carefully as you search for something to bring back upstairs.

then you hear a voice. “you know, most people usually ask before taking food.”

you freeze, a chill shooting down your spine.

slowly turning around, you find michael standing there.

his hair is slightly messy, his expression relaxed, and there’s that familiar little smile on his face. “your food?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he walks a little closer, amused. “you know what i mean.”

“i thought this was a family kitchen.”

“and i thought you were better than stealing snacks.”

you laugh quietly. “you barely know me.”

“i’m trying to.” the words catch you off guard. normally, you would have a comeback ready. normally, you would tease him and leave before the conversation could become anything more.

but tonight feels different. maybe it’s because it’s late, maybe it’s because there’s no one watching, or maybe it’s because michael isn’t trying to impress you right now.

he’s just standing there, talking to you.

and for once, you let him. you joke back. you laugh at the things he says. you don’t immediately look for a reason to leave.

and when you finally walk back upstairs, you realize something that makes you uncomfortable. which is that you enjoyed it.

days later, while you’re away on a trip, you realize you forgot something at hayven hurst.

it’s a small thing, but it keeps bothering you. you try really hard to ignore it, but eventually you find yourself picking up the phone and dialing their house.

the second someone answers, you almost hang up.

“hello?” you recognize his voice immediately. no one’s voice had ever sounded so soft and relaxing before.

“michael?”

then there was a pause followed by a quiet laugh. “i was wondering when you were going to call me.”

you smile despite yourself. “don’t make it weird. i just forgot something.” you sigh, rolling over in your cozy comforter. your room scented of linen and coconut from a candle that was lit across the room.

“right,” he says, clearly amused. “that’s the only reason?”

it’s almost like you can hear the amused smirk on his face just by his words. you shake your head, even though he can’t see you. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet you’re still on the phone.”

you should have a response…you usually do.

but instead, you just laugh. and somehow, the conversation keeps going.

you talk about random things. he tells you stories. you tease him. he makes you laugh more than you expect.

for once, you aren’t thinking about the cameras or the fame or the world that comes with his name. you’re just talking to michael.

the phone call is supposed to be short.

at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

you’re sitting on your bedroom floor now, your back against the side of your bed, the phone cord wrapped loosely around your fingers as you stare out the window. the house is quiet, the kind of quiet that only happens late at night when everyone else has already gone to sleep.

you’re about to say goodbye when michael speaks again. “so…”

you smile slightly. “so?” and of course, there is another pause. michael frantically thinking of something to say, under the pressure of your presence.

you can almost picture him on the other end, probably sitting in his room trying to figure out what to say. “nothing,” he finally says.

you laugh softly. “you’re terrible at that by the way.” your fingers fiddling with the phone chord.

“at what?” michael questions. “pretending you don’t have something to say.” you respond softly, a small smile meeting your lips.

another quiet laugh comes through the phone. “maybe i just like hearing your voice.”

you freeze for a second. not because it’s some dramatic confession, but because michael says it so simply. like he doesn’t even realize how much it affects you.

“that was smooth,” you tease.

“was it?” he says, a hint of hope in his voice. you could imagine a satisfied grin on his face right then and there.

“no.” you say blankly.

he laughs, and you can hear the embarrassment in his voice. “i was trying.” “you were trying?” you giggle at his efforts. you both stay quiet for a moment, listening to the faint sounds of each other breathing through the phone.

you're sitting quietly on your bed, listening to michael's soft breathing on the other end. the silence between you two isn't awkward—it's comfortable, but something feels different. you break the quiet with a soft murmur. "you know, i never realized you were this funny."

“is that so?" he smirks softly, running his hand through his curls. “maybe i’m just funny when i’m with you." the line goes silent for a moment, filled with just their soft breaths.

you chuckle lowly. “well technically, you aren’t with me. we’re on the phone.” you can’t help but smile to yourself, as you readjust the phone to your ear comfortably.

"right, right, we're not actually together," he laughs softly, but then suddenly he's standing up, moving quietly to his bedroom window. “but your house is right there, though." he pulls back the curtain gently, looking at the dark windows next door.

“are you looking at me?" you ask softly, moving to your own window. you pull back the curtains slowly, peeking out. you live in a quiet neighborhood where everyone knows each other, so you're not surprised when you see him standing there, phone still pressed to his ear, smiling softly.

"i am now." he pulls up a chair, sitting down comfortably, his elbows resting on the windowsill as he looks out at your window. the street lamps cast a soft glow over everything, making the moment feel almost dreamlike. come sit by your window.

you hear him chuckle softly on the other end of the line as you struggle to move your large, plush chair over to the window. the static and thumping sounds coming through the phone make it clear what's happening. "you’re really having to drag that thing over, huh?" he laughs lightly, enjoying the silly moment.

he hears you laugh and then the sudden quiet, followed by a soft thud and your muted "oof." michael notices your chair slipping from your grip once more onto the floor.

seeing you bend over, trying to pick up the chair you dropped, and his eyes immediately travel to the overwhelming sight of your round ass and thick thighs, displayed as your shirt rode up. he swallows hard, nearly choking.

you finally get the chair positioned right by the window, panting slightly from the effort. you settle into the plush seat, smoothing down your oversized sleep shirt that had ridden up when you bent over. you have no idea what michael just witnessed. "finally," you huff out, trying to catch your breath. "that chair is heavier than it looks."

"um— yeah, looks good," he stammers, still distracted, eyes drinking you in through the window. he's struggling to sound casual but keeps replaying that image of you bent over.

"i didn't expect you to be so..." he pauses, searching for the right word, his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiles softly. he’s leaning against his windowsill, one hand gripping the frame, the other resting casually by his side.

"amazing? i know." you joke, tilting your head, noticing how his cheeks are slightly pinked. you have no idea what's coming next. "i didn’t expect you to be so shy." you say softly, pulling your knees up to your chest in the chair, wrapping your arms around them.

"i’m not that shy," he says, his voice steadying as he gains a bit more confidence. he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the windowsill. "there’s a lot of things you wouldn’t expect from me."

you smile softly to yourself, holding the phone up to your ear, as you gaze at him through the windows. “oh yeah? like what?” you challenge.

or maybe you wouldn't expect me to be so... adventurous," he adds, his gaze trailing over your form before quickly flicking back to your face. "i’m a very open-minded person when it comes to... certain activities." he clears his throat, trying to sound casual, but his voice is a bit strained. “just something to think about."

you tilt your head, studying him curiously. a slow, knowing smile spreads across your face as you process his words. your heart drops as you suddenly realize there's a whole side of michael that you've never seen before—one that's confident, flirtatious, and maybe even a bit sexual. “is that so?"

he nods, his smirk growing wider at your response. he pushes off from the windowsill and leans back against his chair, manspreading. his voice dropping even lower. "mmhm. there are things i like... things i want to try." his eyes flick down briefly before meeting yours again intensely.

"and what exactly are these things you want to try?" you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand, matching his intensity. the conversation is getting dangerously close to some very interesting territory, but you keep your tone casual, like you're just talking about hobbies. "just curious." your fingers tap against the windowsill, mirroring his earlier movements.

michael swallows hard, his eyes locked with yours as he leans forward, mirroring your position. the air between you feels charged, electric. he pauses for a moment before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "well... for starters, i’ve always wondered what it would be like if we…”

"if we what, michael?" you prompt, your heart rate slightly elevated. you have a pretty good idea of where this is going, but you want him to say it. your fingers drum more rapidly against the windowsill, betraying your growing anticipation.

"if we you know—kissed...” he finally says, his face flushing slightly but his gaze remaining steady. the admission hangs between you, heavy and charged. his hand moves unconsciously, resting on his thigh, fingertips pressing into the fabric of his pajama pants. he watches your reaction through the windows intently, his own breath hitching slightly. “i mean, we've never actually—"

"it’s not something you just guess at," you say, watching him with a casual smirk. you’re only two years older than him, but you find his shyness almost amusing. your voice drops lower. a real kiss... it's not just putting your lips together, you know." you pause, letting your words hang in the air.

"what’s it like, then?" michael asks quietly through the line, his eyes fixed on yours. he’s genuinely curious, and there's a hint of vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart soften slightly. he’s so innocent compared to you—no real kissing experience under his belt yet.

"the hands roam... they touch faces, they tangle in hair, they pull bodies closer." your voice is thicker now, more commanding. you’re teasing him mercilessly, painting a picture of passion and desire that he can barely comprehend. “and the lips... they part slightly, tongue slipping—“

"i really wanna do that to you," michael interrupts, his voice thick and strained. the words tumble out before he can stop them—honest and desperate. he’s imagining your lips parting, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer until there's no space left between you. he exhales shakily, his knuckles whitening where they grip the armrest of his chair.

as you continue your sensual teasing, michael’s cheeks flush deeper, his eyes darkening with barely contained desire. you see the effect you're having on him, and it only encourages you to continue. your voice becomes even softer, more inviting. “is that all you wanna do to me, michael?"

"no..." michael whispers, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. he’s definitely getting hard—his pajama pants doing little to hide his growing erection. his voice is shaky, clearly affected by the mental images you're putting in his head. “i’d…i’d want to do other things too."

“mhm," you murmur, your voice low and teasing. you watch him squirm, his hands fidgeting on the chair arms. you need more details—you want to hear the dirty thoughts running through his head. your voice drops even lower. “michael, honey... be specific."

"i... i want to touch you," michael stammers out, his voice breaking. he’s needy now, helplessly falling apart under the weight of his arousal. his hands curl into fists, his nails digging into his palms. “everywhere... i want to touch you everywhere."

“mmm” you hum out in satisfaction at his desirable truth. you quickly trap the phone in between your jaw and shoulder, allowing your free hands to teasingly slide up your body—gently pulling the fabric of your night shirt. now you were softly cupping and caressing your tits. “you mean right here baby? this where you wanna touch me?” you whisper.

"yes... right there," michael hisses, his eyes stuck to your hands as they cup your breasts teasingly. he’s completely hard now, his pajama pants tenting prominently. the fact that you're in separate houses only adds to the taboo nature of the conversation, making it even more exciting. “is that all?” you questioned.

"no-no... not just there," michael sputters, his eyes glued to the way you're gently playing with your hard nipple. he’s practically panting now, his needy gaze bouncing between your hands and your face. he licks his dry lips, struggling to form coherent thoughts. i…i want to touch you everywhere."

you softly reply in a confused manner. “hmm, everywhere… where could that be? over here?” you say as your hands move down to your inner thighs while slowly spreading your legs. your core aching to be touched.

michael breath catches in his throat as you spread your legs slightly, his mind immediately jumping to dirty places. he can almost feel his heart pounding out of his chest, his voice desperate and shaky. y-yes... there... right there." he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“tell me how you wanna touch me michael.” your voice travels through the phone line. making michael shudder. you were now fed up with this night shirt, bringing your legs up to your chest, using the shirt to cover up your aching heat teasingly.

"i want to..." michael’s voice cracks, his knuckles white against the chair arms. he’s practically spilling out of his pajama pants now, unable to hide how turned on he is. his eyes are locked on yours through the window, the distance between your bedrooms feeling agonizingly vast. "i want to slide my hands up your thighs... cup you through your panties..."

"and then... then i’d want to pull your panties aside and feel you up directly," michael admits, his face flushed red with embarrassment and lust. he’s never been so dirty with anyone before, let alone over a phone call while looking at each other through windows.

hearing michael’s velvety—yet needy voice through the line drove you insane. “like this?” you question, a small smirk creeping onto your face as your manicured hand stooped inside your lace panties gently.

michael’s eyes widen as he watches your hand disappear under your panties, his breath hitching loudly. he can't believe what he's seeing, his own hand instinctively reaching down to grip himself through his pants. "y-yes... just like that," he pants, "let me see..."

you throw your head back in sheer pleasure, losing your mind and self respect. now you were on full display, propped up for michael to see and hear.

michael’s eyes are riveted to the sight of you pushing your legs up and spreading yourself open for him. he can see your fingers sliding in and out of you through the thin fabric of your panties, the wetness seeping through and glistening in the moonlight streaming through your window.

“is that all you want, michael?” you moan as you start to slowly circle your clit with your fingers, moaning softly as the sensation shoots through your body. your legs are pushed up high, giving michael a perfect view of your wet panties stretched tight over your pussy. you arch your back, pressing your hips forward, inviting him to watch. your soft moans echoing through the telephone line. “i see how hard you are.

"n-no fair," michael stammers out, his face flushing an even deeper red as you point out his obvious hard-on. he’s squirming in his seat, his hand still gripping himself through his pants. "i... i wanna do more than touch you," he admits, his voice barely a whisper. "i wanna..."

"i know what you wanna do, baby." you tease him gently, not taking your hand out of your panties. you can see how desperately he wants to touch himself properly. “you wanna jerk off while watching me, don't you?"

"damn..." michael groans, his hand moving faster, rubbing himself through the fabric of his pajama pants. he can see your fingers moving on your clit, the wetness glistening between your legs. he’s practically falling apart, his cock straining painfully against his waistband. “you’re so... why are you doing that? just to make me..."

“you love seeing me touch myself like this, don’t you michael?” you question. sliding two fingers inside yourself, moaning louder this time. your legs are shaking slightly as you finger yourself right in front of him. he can see every detail—the way your panties stretch around your fingers,the wet sounds, and how red and swollen you're getting.

"pull your panties aside," michael pleads, his voice trembling with need. he’s completely unhinged now, his hand moving frantically inside his pants as he watches you touch yourself through your soaked underwear. the moonlight illuminating your spread legs is driving him absolutely wild “i need to see..."

you slowly hook your fingers into the side of your panties, pulling the fabric aside to reveal your slick, swollen pussy to michael’s desperate gaze. your fingers immediately return to their previous position, sliding easily in and out of your entrance as you finger yourself slowly. "like this?" you tease, your voice breathy with pleasure.

michael lets out an actual whimper at the sight of your bare pussy being fingered right there in front of him. his pajama pants are completely tented now, his boxers soaked through with pre-cum as he furiously jacking himself off through them. "spread yourself wider.”

you use your free hand to spread your pussy lips open, giving michael an unobstructed view of your fingers pumping in and out of your hole. the wet sounds of your self-fucking fill the air, along with Michael's frantic pants and muffled grunts as he jerks himself off furiously through his pants.

"you know, michael," you moan softly, watching your fingers disappear inside yourself repeatedly, "you look so good jerking off like that." your voice drips with encouragement, watching his desperate hand move faster and faster inside his pajama pants. the sight of his hard cock straining against the fabric makes you curl your fingers inside yourself. “such a good boy... fucking yourself while watching me..."

"fuck, fuck, fuck..." michael chants under his breath, his hand moving so fast it's a blur inside his pants. your dirty words are pushing him to the edge of insanity. "you like seeing me jerk off? you like knowing i’m getting off on watching you finger yourself?"

"i’ve never seen anyone jerk off while watching me before," you admit breathlessly, your fingers picking up speed as you fuck yourself slowly but deeply. michael’s eyes are locked on your hand buried in your pussy, his own movements becoming more frantic and sloppy inside his pants.

suddenly, at your words, confidence overcame michael. "i wanna pull my cock out and jerk off right in front of you," michael confesses, his voice breaking with desperation, “i wanna come all over your pussy while you finger yourself. i wanna push your legs back and fuck you so hard..."

"i wanna spread your legs wide open and eat your pussy while you touch yourself," he continues, his hand moving even faster inside his pants. "i wanna suck on your fingers that are inside you right now. i wanna fucking taste you..."

"holy shit," you whisper, your fingers freezing inside your pussy as michael’s dirty confessions keep spilling out. you’ve never heard him like this before—so utterly unhinged and specific in his dirty talk. it turns you on so much that you actually praise him for it.

"you like that i’m getting specific, huh?" michael pants, his face contorting with lust as he realizes you're enjoying his dirty talk. he decides to keep pushing your buttons, getting even more explicit. "you wanna know what else i wanna do to you? really specific stuff?"

"tell me..." you bite your lip, your fingers starting to move again slowly inside yourself as you encourage michael to keep talking "tell me all the really specific things you wanna do to me right now." your voice is soft but demanding, wanting him to lose even more control.

"i wanna lick your clit in slow circles," michael begins, his voice dripping with saliva at the thought. "i wanna suck it into my mouth and flick it rapidly with my tongue. i wanna push two fingers inside you while eating you out - curling them upwards to hit that special spot inside."

"holy fuck..." you gasp, your fingers curling inside yourself as michael describes eating you out in such a detailed and skilled manner. you’re shocked that he knows so much about pleasuring a woman, but at the same time, you're getting incredibly close to coming just from listening to him.

"i wanna add a third finger and scissor them inside you," michael continues, his hand a blur inside his pants as he describes fingering you expertly. i wanna push my tongue deep inside your pussy and lick upwards, hitting your g-spot over and over again. and when you're right on the edge, i wanna..."

"...i wanna suck your clit hard until you scream and come all over my face," michael gets out his words, his voice ragged and desperate. your body trembles at his dirty knowledge, your walls clenching around your fingers at his explicit descriptions. you’re getting so close, your orgasm hovering just out of reach as he continues to talk dirty through your window. and when you come..."

"you know what?" you interrupt michael, trying to regain some control over the situation despite being so turned on. your fingers continue moving inside yourself, but your tone becomes more commanding. "you talk a big game for someone who's just jerking off through his pants."

"i’ve done my research," michael pants, not slowing down his frantic hand movements for a second. "i’ve watched videos, read stories, practiced on myself... i know exactly how to make a girl squirt, how to make her see stars." he’s being so unapologetically lewd and knowledgeable that it's clear he's thought about this extensively.

"i know where to put my fingers, how deep to go," michael continues, his voice low and confident. "i know how to eat pussy until a girl's legs shake. i know all the spots—the clit, the g-spot, even that little spot inside that makes girls scream."

"you sound like an expert, michael," you tease, a slow smirk forming on your lips despite the heat building in your body. “but you're all talk right now. still jerking off through your pants like a desperate virgin." you watch him carefully, trying to hide the way your own walls are clenching at his lewd confidence.

"all those videos, those stories, that research... i did it all because of you," michael voice breaks with vulnerability, his earlier confidence completely shattered. “i watched them imagining it was you moaning. i practiced techniques on my own body, thinking about how good it would feel to make YOU feel good." he looks completely broken open now, emotionally naked.

your breath catches in your throat, your fingers stuttering inside you at his confession. your walls clench hard around your digits as his words hit you - he's been fantasizing about your pussy, your moans, and you squirting. the tension builds dangerously low in your belly, your clit throbbing hard as he keeps talking. “every technique, every spot..."

every fucking thing i know is for YOU." just as he finishes his confession, your body finally gives in. you moan "michael!" loudly as you climax, your fingers buried deep inside you. the phone slips from your shaking hand, clattering to the chair as muffled moans escape your lips.

"oh my god, are you... are you coming?" michael’s voice is shocked and amazed as he hears your muffled moans and the sound of the phone dropping. his own hand starts moving faster inside his pants at the realization that his dirty talk just made you cum. “fuck, wait..."

as he stands up, his pants drop to the floor, revealing his large, hard cock standing at attention. it’s big—long and thick, pre-cum glistening at the tip as he starts to stroke himself rapidly. "k-keep going, i need you to cum with me."

despite having just reached orgasm, your body trembles violently. your hand unconsciously moves back to your clit, your fingers working through the aftershocks as you try to stay composed. but you're too deep in sensation. your face is flushed, your lips parted as you try to swallow your moans. "f-fuck, michael..." your lips form the word silently.

"you don't stop, do you?" michael groans, stroking his thick cock faster as he watches you through the window with hungry eyes. "look at you, touching yourself right after coming... good girl." his voice drops low, commanding. “don’t you dare stop—keep fingering yourself while stroke myself, mama.”

“it feels too damn good baby.” you moan out, facial expression displaying ecstasy as your head was thrown back against the chair. “since you know it all… tell me how to squirt.” you demanded, biting your lip at the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

"first, you gotta relax," michael explains, his cock twitching at the anticipation. "stop fighting it. let yourself feel everything." his voice grows deeper, more authoritative. "second, you need to put your fingers inside yourself... and not just the first few—get deeper." his hand starts moving again. “you feel that spot on your front wall?"

you nod your head at his words, doing exactly what he says. "yeah, the one that makes you feel like you gotta pee—don't worry, that's your g-spot." michael’s breathing grows heavier as he imagines your fingers pressing against that sensitive spot. “now, curl your fingers like you're making a 'come here' motion."

you follow his instructions, your fingers sliding deep inside yourself. you curl them up, pressing against that spot that makes your eyes roll back slightly. a soft moan escapes your lips as you start to move them in and out slowly. “m-michael... it feels weird..." you whisper into the phone.

"perfect, keep doing that," michael praises, his own hand flying over his length as he watches your silhouette through the window. “now, add some pressure with your palm against your clit. rub it in circles while you finger your g-spot." his voice is strained with desire.

as you add pressure to your clit, a jolt of pleasure shoots through your body. your legs start to shake slightly as you continue to finger yourself deeply. "oh my god... michael, something's happening..." you whimper into the phone, your breaths growing quicker.

"you’re doing so good... keep going... your fingers are hitting that spot perfectly..." michael’s voice is a mix of instructions and his own moans. he’s close, his hand moving faster as he watches you. "spread your legs wider... yeah like that... now fuck yourself deeper on those fingers."

"ahh... it feels like... like i might... wet myself..." your face contorts with effort and intense pleasure as you follow his instructions perfectly. "m-michael... what's happening?" your body tenses, the sensation building rapidly toward a peak unlike anything you've felt before.

"feel that building pressure? like your bladder's about to burst?" michael whimpers, his cock throbbing hard as he watches your legs spread wider. "don’t fight it—that's the squirt building. keep rubbing your clit... faster... harder... and curl those fingers harder on that spot." he moans loudly, his hips jerking forward.

"i’m... i’m almost there, michael—" your moans get louder, needier, your body shaking violently as you curl your fingers against that spongy spot while your palm grinds your clit. "it’s building so much... i can't... i can't hold it back..." your walls clench around your fingers, your thighs pressing together with desperate tension.

"you’re gonna squirt, baby... just keep doing what you're doing." michael’s voice is hoarse with lust as he watches your body tense up. his own body is shaking with the need to cum as he jerks himself off faster. "put more pressure on your clit..."

"fuck!" you whimper as your body suddenly gives in, hot liquid gushing out of you as you squirt hard, soaking your hand and the chair. at the exact same moment, michael groans loudly, his cock exploding as he cums hard, cum splattering everywhere. the synchronization is perfect—your climax and his orgasm hitting at the same time. “shit!"

"no no no, keep going! don’t stop!" michael nearly demands through the phone, his hand still moving furiously over his cum-covered cock as he watches your body convulse with pleasure. “keep squirting, mama! keep those fingers inside you and keep that beautiful wetness flowing!”

"you got more in you, i know you do—i can see you still twitching, still squirting a little bit..." michael whines, stroking himself through the cum, his voice desperate. "don’t stop now, you just got started—keep rubbing that clit, keep curling those fingers. let it all out, mama, every fucking drop."

another powerful orgasm hits her, this one even more intense than the first. she covers her mouth to stifle the scream, her body arching back as she squirts again, the liquid soaking into her clothes and running down her legs. tears stream down her face from the overwhelming pleasure.

"shh, shh, easy now... you did so good..." michaels voice softens as he watches you break down in intense pleasure, his own hand slowing to gentle strokes as he catches his breath. "just breathe through it, mama... let the aftershocks run their course."

michael watches through the window as your body shudders uncontrollably, your fingers still moving in slow circles on your sensitive clit. your whole body trembles with aftershocks, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as soft whimpers escape your lips. "that’s it, keep rubbing gently... don't stop now, you're still twitching so pretty for me..."

michael hand moves in slow, deliberate strokes as he watches you fall apart beautifully. his voice is a soothing murmur. "look at you, shaking like that... you took it so well, mama. just keep those fingers moving nice and slow now. feel every little bit, baby.

"m-michael... it's so... so sensitive..." your voice is shaky as you speak through your tears, your fingers slowing to gentle brushes against your clit. “i can still feel it pulsing... oh god, it's like it's never gonna stop..."

"you asked for it, mama... you wanted me to make you squirt like this... and fuck, look at you—you're doing it again." michael’s voice drops lower as he watches another small squirting orgasm hit you unexpectedly. "keep talking, keep rubbing..."

"just let go, baby... feel it all over your sensitive little pussy... and then squeeze those fingers together and squirt all over your chair for me... while i fucking cum all over myself just watching you." michael’s voice is thick with desire as he watches you squirm and whimper.

your body arches sharply as another powerful squirt hits you, liquid gushing out and soaking your chair once more. at the exact same moment, michael’s legs go weak, falling back in his seat, arching his back, a loud groan escaping him as he cums again, thick ropes of cum shooting out onto his stomach.

"...you... fuck..." michael breathes heavily into the phone, his chest heaving as he tries to recover from the intense orgasm. he can hear your heavy breathing on the other end, knowing you're equally exhausted and sensitive. "...did i break you, mama?"

"mm... i think you did..." your voice is weak and breathless, your fingers finally still but still resting against your dripping, sensitive pussy. your whole body feels like jelly, every nerve ending singing with aftershocks. "michael... i.. i just... squirted so much...i’m completely soaked..." you whimper softly.

"yeah... me too... i’m a fucking mess right now..." michael’s voice is hoarse, trying to regain some semblance of normal conversation. "we’re both covered... i’m covered in... well... you know." he pauses, struggling to find words. “may—maybe we should both go get cleaned up."

you chuckle softly, your voice tired but playful. “goodnight, michael... i think i’ll be sleeping very peacefully tonight... thanks for... helping me out with that." you pause, then add with a small smile, “yeah... maybe i’ll call you by accident more often."

michael smiles to himself, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the filthy things that just happened. "yeah... maybe you will." he pauses, his voice softening. “sweet dreams, mama. sleep well... you earned it tonight." your voice is barely a whisper. "goodnight, michael." you hear him exhale before the line goes dead.