𝜗𝜚⋆

Thankfully nobody could tell where his eyes lingered because of his dark sunglasses, but everybody had noticed how significantly distracted he was today. 

Quincy cleared his throat. “Michael, just… whenever you’re ready.”

Michael shook his head slightly, as if to will away a thought. In a low voice, he muttered, “Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

You tilted your head slightly. Michael was always on his game and you knew that, even if this was your first time watching him in the studio. Thriller was almost complete and you figured that he might like some encouragement for the home stretch, so you came with him for today’s session.

You wondered if he was upset about something from the way his jaw kept clenching, but you really couldn’t tell because of his shades. Maybe he was always like this when he was working? No, that didn’t seem right…

As he started to sing, though, all of your worries vanished, and you could only think about one thing.

You loved him when he sang. The way he got lost in it. The way his hands clenched around his headphones, accentuating the veins in his hands and arms. The way when, if he had been singing long enough, a sheen of sweat coated his skin and gave him a slight glow, like an angel. Luckily for you, this was one of those times. God, this was torture. You wished you could just go in there and let him have his way with–

Quincy’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Alright. Michael, let’s give you a break and go for lunch.”

“Quincy, I can keep going.” He spoke with a frown, and his voice sounded slightly wrecked, carried a note of desperation. You raised an eyebrow. Okay, something was up. 

“No negotiations, you need a prime vocal performance for Thriller. Don’t sweat it, man. We got time.”

Defeated, Michael took his headphones off and made his way out of the recording booth. The sound engineers started talking quietly about where to go for lunch as you stepped out to meet him. 

“Michael, baby, you did great,” you cooed as you pulled him in for a hug. He smelt delicious, like his signature cologne mixed with his natural musk. His hands settled respectfully on your lower back, causing something low in your stomach to heat up despite wishing his hands were lower. Always a gentlemen, Michael.

He had a real cool smile on his face that morphed into a giddy grin when he heard the compliment. Faces inches apart, you could see a slight blush painted on his cheeks. 

His voice was featherlight, but oddly low. “Come on, it wasn’t that great. I mean, we had to keep redoing the same part over and over ‘cause I was so out of it…” 

“Still,” you whisper-spoke, your hand rubbing slight circles in the nape of his neck. “You sounded amazing.”

For a second, there was a look in his eyes that seemed vaguely familiar to you. Like he was hungry. Just as he was about to lean in for a kiss, people came piling out of the control room. Michael, being as shy as he was, jumped away slightly and opted for just holding your hand in front of the crowd. You silently cursed the interruption.

Quincy came out, laughing about something before telling the two of you, “We all goin’ over to Sal’s for lunch. Y’all comin’?”

“What do you think, baby?” You asked softly. “You been real working hard–”

“No, I think we’re good, Quince. We’ll just, uh, chill here for a bit.” Michael’s voice was the epitome of forced casualness.

Quincy started down the hall. “Suit yourselves. And I mean it Michael, let that voice rest,” he called over his shoulder, leaving with a friendly wave.

The moment the hallway was cleared out, you turned to Michael and asked all concerned-like, “Somethin’ wrong? I thought you might want to eat?”

You noticed he was breathing real deep, like he was breathless but trying to hide it. You really couldn’t get a read on him, so you moved his sunglasses to rest on his head, sweeping his hair back slightly and leaving you to look at his eyes. His gaze was jumping all over, to your eyes, your lips, your neck, and down…

“Baby…” he sighed dreamily before closing the space between you, eliciting a startled sound from your mouth. 

His lips moved deeply and desperately. Usually your makeouts didn’t start out this way; they always started slow and soft and morphed into something needier, but you weren’t complaining. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t daydreaming about this all day. 

Despite the shock, your body melted into the kiss and your hands searched for something to hold onto so you wouldn’t collapse into the earth. You grasped at Michael’s hair, tugging slightly. He whimpered slightly into your mouth at the sensation, and gently pushed you against the wall.

Pressed up against you like this, Michael’s hard-on was pleasingly rutted against your inner thigh. When you thought you couldn’t get any wetter, you were suddenly soaked. 

Michael found a rhythm with his hips easily, of course. He moved in slow but deep movements against you. His hands found the plushness of your ass and kneaded it gently with his big hands. He let out the most beautiful noises, moaning and breathing shakily against the area just below your jaw. He was touching all the right places, leaving the heat in your stomach to increase steadily. 

“Mikey…” you gasped out, holding his head against your jaw. “What’s–” you giggled. “What’s all this about?”

The man against you was a wreck, with sweat dripping down his neck and the veins in his arms more prominent than ever. He humped against you like it was solving world hunger.

He kissed up your jaw a bit until his mouth found your ear. His breath ghosted softly against it, sending a chill down your spine and causing you to jerk your hips into him slightly.

“When I was recording,” he muttered shakily, “I couldn’t–God, I couldn’t stop staring at you, and your pretty legs, imagining what you would look like under me while you’re wearin’ that pretty skirt…”

Holy fuck. You didn’t even know how to respond. Instead, you kissed him fervently, drinking up every little noise he let into your mouth and exhaling it right back into his.

You could have stayed there forever. Humping each other in the hallway, desperate, depraved, panting. Your dry humping became anything but dry. The air around you was filled up with the heat radiating from your bodies and the sounds that escaped your lips. 

Begrudgingly, Michael pulled away from you (not without a whimper of protest), took your hand, and led you inside the control room. The door clicked shut behind him. He pushed you up against the controls and you giggled softly, looking deep into his sweet eyes. 

“We gonna do this on the controls? Really?” 

He bit his lip and smiled, his adams apple bobbing as he looked down at you. He adjusted his erection slightly in his pants, and you gulped. 

“You got a better place, baby?”

Well shit, he’s got a point. 

He leaned down to kiss you some more, his hands traveling to the hem of your shirt and lifting it up to reveal a cute lacy bra underneath. His mouth began to make its way down the center of your body as his hands grasped at your breasts. He kissed your neck, your chest, down your abdomen and onto the sweet, sweet spot just above your skirt and just below your belly button. You sighed and threw your head back, pleasure overtaking you. You looked back down to take in the lovely sight before you: Michael, kneeled before you and gazing at you like he was praying to a goddess. One curl fell loose from its carefully styled spot and dangled on his forehead. 

“You’re beautiful,” he sighed dreamily against your lower stomach. “Beautiful, beautiful.”

He flipped your skirt up and went right to kissing your inner thigh.

“Oh my–Michael…” This was driving you crazy. His breath against your pussy was just enough to rile you up but not near enough for you to be satisfied. He always took his time down there, kissing and sucking and and looking up at you–

“Mikey, please, come on baby…” you pleaded, not able to handle it anymore.

He smiled, trying to look all cute, but you could tell he secretly loved how much he was teasing you. 

“Okay, okay.”

Ever so gently, he pulled your damp lacy panties down until they were wrapped around your ankles, just above your baby blue flats. He hooked his arms around your thighs and lifted your legs so that they were dangling off his shoulders. Then, in one tantalizing sweep, he licked from bottom to top, and you swear you saw the gates of heaven.

You leaned back, gasping at the ceiling as your hips bucked into his mouth and one hand grasped at his hair. His tongue worked wonders on your clit, the perfect amount of pressure and movement. He licked up and down your folds while he massaged your thighs. Electricity coursed all throughout your body. He ate you out like you were his last meal; his tongue curling hungrily, gasping, his nose nuzzling your clit. His hips thrusted, desperately looking for friction in his jeans but to no avail.

“Ba–baby,” you choked out, at a complete loss for words. You could feel him smiling smugly against you as he worked, pleased with himself for getting you to this state. 

The warmth in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter, but you knew it wasn’t going to be enough. “Need more, Mike. C'mon.”

Michael kissed your pussy before pulling off. His chin was extra shiny from spit. “Patience, baby.”

His hand traveled to your hole and he pushed one finger inside slowly, curling to hit that spot that made your back arch and your eyebrows furrow together. He worked it slow, fingers long enough to reach deep inside of you. You whined, and he knew to add another finger. It was pure bliss. He kissed your legs sweetly as he fingered you, looked at you with love and desperation. He was in absolute awe at the woman before him.

“‘S not enough, Mikey. Please. I need you.”

Michael’s face changed when you said that. His erection was pressed against his jeans and begging for some attention. He slid his fingers out of you gently and immediately went to unbuckling his belt while he looked at you, took in your body splayed before him, your legs spread. A perfect writhing mess, just for him. He slid your panties off completely from around your ankles and put your legs over his shoulders.

“You have no idea,” he groaned, his voice a sexy bass, “how bad I’ve wanted to do this.”

You bit your lip at his words and watched as he pulled his pants and underwear down to his midthigh, unveiling his leaking cock. From the way it was twitching and wet with precum, it seemed like he was on the verge of finishing just from fingering and eating you out.

He pumped it a few times then positioned himself at your entrance, looking down in concentration. The anticipation was too much–it was pathetic, almost, how just his tip brushing against your opening made you sigh shakily–and just when you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust, he pushed inside of you with a smooth thrust. You basically screamed.

His strokes were perfect, deep, smooth, with a delicious rhythm. Your jaw dropped open, unable to make a sound, and then he, too, was a moaning, whining mess. You fell back onto the control panel, knobs and sliders digging into your back, but not enough to take away from the feeling of Michael going in and out of you while he whimpered praise.

“Mmh, you feel perfect baby, you’re so beautiful and good and perfect,” he moaned, more beads of sweat now trickling down his neck. 

“Holy– shi– shit,” you stammered out. From this angle, his dick was hitting your g-spot perfectly each time. His tip grazed deep, deep inside of you. Fuck. You felt your orgasm quickly approaching.

“C’mon, baby,” he pleaded, breathless as he leaned down to plant quick kisses on your jaw. “You can take it, c’mon. You got it.”

You felt his rhythm slowly pick up, along with his moans. He was muttering strings of sweet nothings under his breath. Your name was on his lips like he was begging a god for forgiveness.

He quickly swept his shirt up, biting the hem to keep there as his thrusts got more and more desperate. His toned core was shining with sweat, the light wobbling on his body as he kept his hips moving. He threw his head back and started moaning, the sweetest music you’ve ever heard, and that sent you off the rails.

“Mikey, ‘m gonna–’m gonna–” your legs wrapped around his hips tighter and you felt every bit of tension in your stomach dissipate with a loud moan. Your fingers looked for anything to grasp onto but only found volume knobs. Your back arched for a second before you collapsed, your shaky arms not sufficient enough to hold you up. Your legs fell from around Michael’s waist.

At the same time, Michael finished, the warmth of his cum pumping deep inside you, overwhelming your senses and heightening your orgasm. He fell on top of you, gasping and panting pleasantly in your ear like he just ran a marathon.

The two of you stayed like that for a minute, Michael riding out the aftershocks and pumping his cum deeper into you. You traded breaths as you both tried to level out and come down from that absolute high. He planted a kiss on your cheek before he pulled out of you and started doing up his pants. 

“Way to preserve your voice,” you joked, causing Michael to cover his face in embarrassment as he shook with laughter.

“Baby, oh my gosh,” he chuckled as you stood up to put on your underwear. “You’re walking like a cowboy or something.” You started laughing uncontrollably with him. “Did we seriously just have sex in the control room?”

He blushed slightly and rubbed his neck. “Oh god, yeah, we did. Sorry. That was real dirty of me, wasn’t it?”

You walked over and planted a soft kiss on his lips, touching his chest warmly. You whispered in his ear, “I should visit you in your sessions more often.”

…

When Quincy and the crew got back, you and Michael tried your best to seem like totally normal upstanding citizens. You were sitting in the control room chairs with your legs crossed casually (although, it was a little stiff considering you could feel a certain someone’s cum leaking out of you), and Michael was sporting his sunglasses again.

Quincy sat down in his chair with a satisfied groan as the other workers piled into their respective seats. “Y’all missed out. What’d y’all even do here, anyway? Talk?” 

Michael coughed. You giggled. 

“Yeah, something was, uh, weighing on my mind. I got a clear head now. Ready to record," Michael explained.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“Yo,” an engineer blurted out. “Who was messing with the equalization? Matter of fact, all this crap over here’s messed up…”

You and Michael shared a look and tried not to giggle.

a/n: woohoo! thank you for sticking it out to the end.

yet, even with this shift in your relationship, you didn't lose the easy friendship you'd always shared. you still hung out just like you used to, but now there was a sweet buzz humming underneath everything. michael was always flirting with you, finding ways to make your face burn, and though you'd never admit it to him, you absolutely loved it.

in turn, you never passed up an opportunity to tease him back, watching with satisfaction as he blushed and shied away from your touch. those playful days turned into quiet nights, with michael dragging you out on late-night walks around the neighbourhood. you'd walk hand-in-hand, your shoulders brushing, talking about everything and nothing until your eyes grew heavy.

it made you feel closer to him than you'd ever been before.

the change happened so easily it almost surprised you, but if you were being honest, neither of you wanted to slow it down.

and it wasn't that you guys wanted to keep secrets or didn't want anyone to find out about you two. you just really wanted to keep this to yourselves for a while. you wanted the space to figure things out and enjoy the bubble of being together without any outside noise.

these days, the two of you had gotten pretty good at sneaking around. hayvenhurst was always buzzing with his family, which only made it more exciting.

michael would catch your eye from across the room, giving you a knowing look before slipping away. a few minutes later, you’d follow, only to be gently yanked into a dark linen closet or the narrow space beneath the back stairs.

his hands would immediately find your waist, dragging you flush against him before his mouth hungrily found yours. he’d hold you there, smiling against your lips as someone's footsteps passed just outside the door.

but it wasn't just the stolen kisses.

the two of you had recently started exploring whatever this was becoming. you still hadn't gone all the way yet — there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to rush it — but michael was eager, and somewhere along the way, he’d discovered just how much he loved making you feel good.

turns out, michael was a giver.

more than that, he was devoted to figuring out every single inch of you. he loved to kiss you — it was his favourite thing in the world, the way he'd lose himself in your mouth for hours — but he was just as obsessed with taking his time between your legs.

you couldn't even count how many times he’d ended up on his knees at the edge of his bed, his large hands pinning your thighs wide open while he buried his face in you.

he was an eater, plain and simple.

he’d spend hours down there, his tongue tracing your folds and sucking on your clit until your hips were bucking against the mattress and your throat was raw from trying to muffle your screams. he loved the taste of you, loved the drag of his tongue over your pussy. he’d stay down there until you were nothing but a trembling mess beneath him.

it had changed the way you looked at him. whenever you saw him working, all you could think about was the way he looked with his chin wet and his hair messy, looking up at you from between your thighs with those wide doe eyes, asking if he could do it again.

today was a day like no other. the heat at the hayvenhurst pool was buzzing with noise, music drifted across the patio, while his siblings were splashing and shouting over a game of... you actually weren't even sure what they were playing because your focus was on michael, and his was on you.

you’d been sitting on the edge, kicking your legs in the water. every time you looked up, you caught him watching you from his chair. he wasn't even trying to hide it.

his eyes would trail down the line of your swimsuit. whenever your eyes locked, he'd offer you a sly smile that made your stomach flip.

when you finally stood up and complained about the sun getting too hot, wanting to go inside to cool down. michael immediately stood up, saying he’ll accompany you.

you walked back toward the house together, your feet padding on the warm concrete patio before stepping onto the cool tile at the back entrance. the sudden blast of the air conditioning hit your damp skin, making you goosebump instantly. michael guided you up the stairs, the muffled shouts of his brothers fading more and more with every step you took toward his bedroom.

once you reached his door, he pushed it open and let you slip inside first, letting it click shut behind him.

you tossed your damp towel onto the chair by his desk, looking around with a grin. "thought you said you cleaned in here, mike. what's this?" you pointed to a messy pile of vinyl records and a couple of stray button-down shirts draped over his dresser.

michael scoffed, walking over with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "i did clean. that's... an organized system. i know exactly where everything is."

"sure you do," you teased, picking up a stray pillow from his armchair and tossing it lightly at his chest. "your socks are trying to escape from that bottom drawer, by the way."

he caught the pillow easily, a wide, boyish grin spreading across his face. "hey, don't start. you're a guest in my room, you’re supposed t'be on your best behaviour."

"and if i'm not?" you challenged, crossing your arms.

michael tossed the pillow onto the bed and took a slow step toward you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "then i might have t’kick you out. send y'right back outside. throw y'in the pool, maybe?"

"you wouldn't," you laughed, keeping your eyes on his as you made a move to dodge around him toward the door.

but michael was too quick. with a quiet laugh, he stepped right into your path, his large hands catching your waist and steering you backward until your spine met the solid wood of his bedroom door.

he caged you in, his palms flat against the door on either side of your head. for a moment, you just stared at each other, both of you smiling, your breaths mingling in the quiet space. his eyes were bright and crinkling at the corners, before his gaze drifted down to your mouth.

the smile faded from his lips as he leaned in, pressing his mouth to yours. it was slow and sensual, his lips soft. it made your knees go weak. he tasted faintly of the soda he’d been drinking by the pool.

when he broke the kiss, he didn't pull back far. his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your cheek.

"that swimsuit you're wearin'... 's unfair," he murmured, his voice low and raspy.

you bit your cheek with a tilt to your head, your hands finding his chest. "you don't like it?"

he shook his head.

"the opposite," he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips before his eyes trailed down your body. "you... y'look so beautiful. the colour looks so good against your skin, an' the way it fits you..."

“yeah?” you said so softly, with such a need in your voice that it almost came off as a moan to the boy in front of you. his cock throbbed — hard already, leaking and needy.

the slightest traces of a moan in your throat is what told him that this teasing was no longer innocent.

he nodded. his fingers gently hooked into the side strap at your hip, tracing the soft curve. his skin was still warm from the sun, making you shiver against the cool air of the bedroom.

his fingers tugged the elastic of your suit just a little bit, exposing a paler line of skin that hadn't been touched by the sun. he stared down at it, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth.

you swallowed, your fingers tightening in the skin of his bare shoulders to keep your balance. "michael..."

"mhm?" he murmured, his gaze slowly climbing back up your body, lingering on your chest before finally meeting your eyes. his other hand reached up, his thumb slowly tracing your lower lip, parting it just enough to feel the warmth of your breath. "what is it, baby?"

god. you could never get used to him calling you that.

"should we head back?" you whispered, mentally kicking yourself the second the words left your mouth.

michael let out a quiet chuckle, his thigh parting your legs and resting between them. "what are we in a rush for? we got time."

he leaned down, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his lips were soft against your skin, pressing a line of kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. you let your head fall back against the door, a soft sigh escaping your lips. your hands slid down his smooth back, feeling the muscles of his shoulders tense under your touch as he let out a low groan against your neck.

"y’taste like the sun," he mumbled, his teeth gently grazing the soft skin right where your neck met your shoulder, making a shiver run down your spine. "so sweet.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you again, his eyes heavy as his hand slid up from your hip, his palm flat against your ribs, feeling the quick beating of your heart.

“so pretty," he whispered, his voice raspy with that tone you'd grown so addicted to over the last few weeks.

he closed the tiny distance between you.

the kiss was so soft and so tender. his lips pressed against yours with a sweetness that felt like a confession, filled with all the heavy words he hadn't actually said out loud yet. there was no rush, no urgency — just the gentle drag of his mouth on yours, tasting you so slowly it made your chest ache. it was the kind of kiss that made you feel cherished, like you were the only thing in his entire world.

your heart swelled, a soft sigh slipping into his mouth as your fingers curled into his shoulders, completely melting into him.

his gaze flickered downward again, and you felt the burning heat of his stare focus on your chest. with the cool air conditioning blowing directly on you, your nipples were hard, poking visibly through the fabric.

michael swallowed, his breathing going shallow. you could see the desire in his eyes — he looked spellbound, like he was looking at something precious.

you felt a rush of confidence, a quiet thrill at seeing him so affected. you looked down at your chest, then back up to meet his gaze.

"you wanna see them?" you whispered.

the question seemed to catch in his throat. michael's breath hitched before a low sound escaped him. he nodded, his hand on your waist tightening.

"please," he breathed. "yes, please."

your hands left his shoulders, reaching behind your neck to undo the thin strings of your top. with a slow tug, the knot slipped free, and you let the fabric fall away to the floor, baring your breasts to him for the very first time.

michael bit his lip, his head tilting back slightly as if he couldn't even believe what he was looking at.

he didn't immediately touch you. he just stared, his eyes dark and blown out. the adoration on his face made your heart do backflips.

"gosh," he whispered, his voice trembling. "you're... you're a dream."

his hand, still wrapped around your waist, slid higher. his touch was tentative as his thumb lightly grazed the very bottom curve of your breast.

you reached down to cover his hand with your own. you guided his palm higher, lifting it until his hand was fully cupping your breast.

michael let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling to map the shape of you. his thumb brushed over your nipple, and a gasp left your lips at the direct contact. the heat of his skin against yours was electric.

your hands gripped his shoulders as his thumbs gently rolled and pinched your nipples, sending sharp jolts straight down to your core. you arched your back, pressing yourself deeper into his hands, unable to hold back the soft whimpers slipping past your lips.

michael groaned at the sound.

"can i...?" he whispered, and you nodded immediately, not even letting him finish his sentence.

his head dipped down, pressing kisses along your collarbone before his mouth finally found one of your aching breasts. he swiped his wet tongue over the nipple first, making you shiver, before he fully took you into his mouth.

he dragged his tongue over the peak, swirling it lazily before pulling your nipple between his teeth, grazing it just enough to make your hips twitch against his thigh. his hand stayed busy on your other breast, squeezing and teasing the nipple between his fingers in sync with his mouth.

your hands push his damp hair out of his face, looking at where your flesh was sucked into his mouth. your jaw slacked.

his pretty face was flushed, and his eyes had fluttered closed as he got lost in the feeling of your tits in his face and in his hands. his tongue worked eagerly, flicking over your nipple while his free hand tweaked at the other.

your skin was slicked and wet with saliva, raised into goosebumps from the cold air he would blow onto it after a lick. it was an intoxicating sight, one that you would keep in your conscious forever to use whenever you needed him most.

your fingers tangled in his curls, pulling him closer as your head rested back against the door. "michael... oh fuck, michael... please"

he pulled his mouth away, the suction releasing from your wet nipple with a soft pop. "what do y'need?"

you choked on your words, having to swallow as you tried to find what to say, “just… more.”

his lips tilted into a smile as he stood back up, looming over you. he looked down at you with his eyes full of desire, lips glossed with saliva, and his hair messed from your hands.

it was bound to drag a reaction out of you.

and a reaction it did.

your hips were now in line with his and you were met with the hard of his cock pressing right into where you need it the most.

through his swim trunks, and your bikini bottoms, you felt the twitch of him against your cunt. you gasped in response.

“tell me,” he said, looking into your eyes.

but he seemed to already know what you want. he ground himself into the soft of your cunt, pressing the length of his cock right against your clit.

“oh shit, michael,” your eyes rolled back and you felt yourself melt against the door, hips coming back down shakily as the pleasure overwhelmed your body, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

he was so hard. he was so fucking hard that you could feel every throb of him against you.

you tried to tell him, tried to make yourself clear, but it came out sounding pathetic; broken apart with gasps and moans, “‘want— oh fuck— i want you… want you inside me.”

michael brought his head low, leaning down until his lips were teasing yours, "that what you want?"

truthfully, michael didn't even know where this confidence of his was coming from. his chest was tight and his heart was hammering so hard he was sure you could hear it.

you whined, your hips twitching underneath him. "god, yeah— yes, please," you squirmed, your hands grabbing aimlessly at his back.

your body was tingling, wired from his touch. michael’s hands slid down to grab the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up against the door.

you didn't even have to think; you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. his swim trunks were rough against your bare thighs. michael held you tight, his fingers gripping your ass to support your weight as he carried you a few paces over to his bed.

he let you down onto the mattress, his touch gentle as your back met the cool sheets. he was already crawling over you as soon as he placed you down, his bare chest hovering inches from yours as he settled himself between your thighs.

his chest hovered inches over yours, and as he looked down at you, the intensity in his eyes softened.

michael bit his lower lip nervously, his thumb brushing a stray lock of hair away from your forehead. his hand was slightly trembling against your skin.

"are you sure?" he whispered, his voice soft. "i want this to be perfect f'you."

"yeah," you breathed, your voice steady despite the frantic pounding of your heart. you reached up, placing your hand over his cheek. "never been more sure. do... do you want to?"

michael let out a shaky breath, a small smile breaking through his anxious expression. he nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "more than anything. 'm just… a little nervous 'm gonna do somethin' wrong."

his tone made your chest ache with affection. you tried to bite back your smile, a bubbly laugh building up in your chest.

"'s okay," you teased, your voice shaking a little as you tried to hold in your giggle. "we're just practicing."

it really was just a lame joke, a reference to your stupid excuse, but michael laughed anyway, rolling his eyes. "oh, shush," he murmured, leaning down to press a quick peck to your lips.

he stayed there for a beat, staring into your eyes, both of you biting back giddy smiles as the weight of the nerves started to melt into something comfortable.

"one second," he murmured suddenly.

before you could even ask, he scrambled off the bed, his feet padding quickly across the floor as he slipped out the bedroom door, leaving it open just a crack.

the sudden absence of his heat left you feeling incredibly exposed. you sat up slightly, looking down at your bare breasts and your bikini bottoms, your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. the anticipation made your stomach do nervous flips until you finally heard the frantic thud of his feet running back across the floor, getting louder as he got closer.

michael burst back into the room, slightly out of breath, a small square foil packet clutched in his palm.

a hot flush instantly crept up your neck and into your cheeks at the sight. "where'd you get that?" you laughed.

michael climbed back onto the mattress, a sheepish, boyish grin spreading across his face as he ducked his head. "jackie's room," he confessed, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "i knew he kept a stash in there somewhere."

"ew, michael!" you let out a groan, hiding your face in your hands.

he laughed at your reaction as he crawled right back over you. your hands came down from your face as you lay back against the pillows, matching his smile.

he gave you another small peck to the lips before kissing down your neck, nipping occasionally to feel your body twitch against his, licking through the valley of your breasts, biting at the soft skin of your stomach, teasing the line of your bikini bottoms with his tongue, and eventually pulling the waistband down your thighs and sliding them off your legs.

his hand wrapped around your ankles and dragged you slightly along the soft sheets until your legs dangled off the side. you gasped softly when you felt his breath wisp along the inside of it, watching him carefully as he brought his lips to the flat bone of the interior and kissed the skin softly.

your stomach turned.

the sensation felt foreign but kinda good. each press of his lips and bite of his teeth as he made his way up to your leg had your heart racing.

"you're so pretty," he said quietly, his eyes still locked on the pretty mound between your legs.

"keep your legs spread f'me, okay?"

and despite your embarrassment, you nodded.

with his hand resting against the back of your thigh, pushing your legs up, his thumb found its way to your clit and pressed softly. your body twitched, jerking against his hand while your legs trembled.

your hand clasped over your mouth. he teased softly, rubbing gentle circles against you, watching the way your pussy gave under the pressure of his thumb.

your hand was still over your mouth as you looked down to look at him. and fuck. he knelt before you so prettily, with his hair framing his face as his arms toyed with your body, and his hips slightly grinding against the side of the bed.

his other hand released your leg, and you obediently kept yourself open for him.

he adjusted his hand, his palm splaying over your navel to give his fingers room to drag across your slit.

and then he brought his face down and dragged his tongue through you.

you inhaled sharply at the sensation. his tongue was so hot and so wet as it dragged over your body and dipped inside you and licked over your cunt.

you let out the shakiest and most pathetic moan you believe has ever come out of your mouth as you felt him fuck his tongue inside you, and he groaned against your body as he felt your pussy squeeze around his tongue and leak onto his taste buds.

he’ll never get over the taste of you.

his hair tickled at your skin as he drank you down. his hand gripped your thigh with such frenzy that it gave under the pressure of his fingers.

his mouth closed over you and worked to devour you, sucking and licking at the fat of your pussy and the nub of your clit.

it was all tongue and lips, all sloppy and wet as he enthusiastically made out with the most intimate parts of you. 

he had you crying out his name, choking out choppy moans, gripping the sheets until your knuckles ached. your hips fucked upwards, trying to take his tongue deeper. your thighs pushed down into the muscle of his shoulders as your legs twitched with every lick.

"so wet" he murmured against your skin before taking another taste of you.

he pushed against the back of your knees, lifting your backside off the mattress and folding you under yourself to give him room to shove his tongue inside you as deep as he could.

"o-oh, god, michael—fuck—how are you so good at that?" you whined shakily.

you felt him groan, rather than hearing him, the vibrations humming through to your clit, tearing another moan from your throat.

michael almost came at the sound of your voice cutting off as you felt one of his long, nimble fingers sliding inside you.

he clenched his jaw to stifle a groan for every time your tight little cunt squeezed around the length of his finger. every ridge and divot inside you had his head swimming with the fantasy of how they’ll feel around the thick of his dick, and he almost blacked out when he realized that he was no longer fingering you solely for your pleasure, but also doing so to stretch you out and make room for him as well.

you sat back on your elbows, and a whimper slipped out of you when you were met with the sight of him between your legs, hypnotized by the sight of of your pussy being stretched open by his fingers, his fingers covered in a sheen of your arousal every time he pulled them out and shoved them back in.

the desperate whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips slowly turned into sobs that were broken off with gasps.

"fuck, michael— i-'m gonna— oh fuck." your eyes squeezed shut, nails digging into the sheets while the other flew to his hair. your body tensed, the coil in your stomach growing tighter, begging to be released.

"c'mon, sweet girl. lemme feel it," he begged, lifting his head from your pussy to watch your face twist as you fell apart inside out.

your fingers pushed against his head, pushing his head back down to your cunt. and michael took it, letting out a deep groan.

"o-oh, god, don't stop, please don't stop," you pleaded.

micheal felt your pussy flutter around his fingers "are you cummi— oh god, you're cumming," and then he brought his mouth back down, drinking in what you were giving him.

sobs were forced out of your throat as your fingers curled back into the sheets, sending powerful waves of pleasure up through your veins until it exploded in your head and fireworks burst behind your squeezed eyes.

michael watched you carefully, tongue still tasting you, admiring your face as you broke for him. your beautiful face, contorted with the pleasure that he gave you, and your beautiful body, visible proof of just how ruined you are.

you sat up weakly as you came down from your orgasm. he had a sheepish smile on his face as he looked at you, his mouth and chin glossed with your arousal.

you reached for his swim trunks, fingers hooking onto the waistband as you pulled him closer to you. you slid back on his bed to his pillows as he hovered back over you.

"this okay?" you asked softly.

"y-yeah," he whispered. your hands tugged at the drawstring of his trunks, loosening them.

his thick cock sprang free, throbbing and fully upright, the head already glistening with a bead of pre-cum. you swallowed hard at the sight of him, your stomach doing a nervous little flip.

he reached over to the nightstand, his trembling fingers tearing open the foil packet he’d snatched from jackie’s room. he struggled with it for a second, his nerves making him clumsy, which made you let out a soft giggle.

"don't laugh," he mumbled, "'m already nervous enough." he finally rolled it over his length. but he was smiling too, his eyes soft as he looked back down at you.

with slightly shaky hands, he wrapped his fingers around his length, sighing as he pumped his dick a few times, getting used to the snug fit of the rubber.

he settled his weight between your legs, his knees forcing your thighs wide as he leaned down. "tell me to stop if it hurts, okay? please," he whispered, his eyes so serious as he waited, refusing to make another move until you gave him a small, reassuring nod.

"okay," you breathed.

he let out a shaky exhale.

slowly, he nudged his tip against your wetness, slowly gliding his dick up and down your slit. he stroked his length against your opening, coating the condom in your slick over and over until you were gasping from the stimulation of it.

he bit his lip in concentration as he lined the head of his cock directly up with your entrance and finally gave a push.

the moment he began to enter, your eyes squeezed shut and a sharp gasp caught in your throat. a deep, burning ache bloomed inside you from the intense stretch.

"you okay?" he murmured, his voice strained as he watched your expression closely, searching every twitch of your face.

you opened your eyes to look at him as you nodded, your chest heaving. he had his jaw clenched tight. your pussy was hugging him so tight that he had to concentrate literally anywhere else, trying desperately not to cum right then and there.

"you're... you're so tight," he choked out, his voice cracking as he felt your cunt clench around him at his words.

even though it was only the head of his dick pushing past your opening, it felt like you were being split in half.

trying to ease the ache for you, his thumb reached down to find your swollen clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive nub to distract you from the fullness. you let out a broken whine, your hips twitching under his hand as the pressure started to melt the sharp burn into pleasure.

sensing your body yield, he slid another inch deeper. your walls stretched to accommodate him, squeezing him so tightly it made him let out a low groan. he pulled back just a fraction, drawing out before pushing in another inch, slowly paving his way inside you and fuck, it felt so good.

you only come to realize that his hips were flush with yours when you were pulled out of your haze by a whimper that reached your ears as michael's head dropped into the crook of your neck.

"“you’re… you’re inside me…” you breathe, your voice saturated with awe.

"y-yeah— i am— oh god. i'm inside you." he sat back on his calves just enough to see where you two connected.

he acted involuntarily, slowly tilting his hips back and forth, watching his cock slip in and out of you.

"michael," you whined, face burning from him staring so shamelessly. "it feels... feel so full. oh—" you gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as your hand reached shakily to feel where his dick split you open.

"s-shit, feel like you're in my lungs," you said, and he let out a huff of a laugh.

"does it still feel okay?" he asked gently.

"yeah, feels different... but feels good." you ground your hips against him, trying to get used to the feeling.

"s-should i move?" he tried so hard to come off casual, like he wasn't dying to just fuck up into you, but he wanted you to be comfortable.

michael let out a shaky breath when you nodded, and slowly, he began to move.

he started with shallow, tentative thrusts, his hips rolling as he worked himself against your gummy walls.

it felt incredibly sweet, almost like he was trying to memorize the feel of you as he took his time, sinking all the way in before slowly drawing back out to the very tip. he leaned down to press soft, lingering kisses to your jaw and the corner of your mouth, his hands tangling in yours on the mattress.

"wanna kiss you," you spoke quietly, reaching up to take hold of his face.

michael’s chest swelled as he gave in easily, leaning over your body, dropping to his forearms to softly take your lips in his in a tender kiss.

with every slow slide out and push back in, a messy, squelching sound echoed between your thighs. you let out a broken whimper, your hands clutching at his damp shoulders as your hips rose to meet him.

"m-michael," you gasped, your head rolling back against the pillows.

he really did try to go slow, but his breath went ragged at your voice, jerking once into you, his pace quickening. he began to push deeper, and with one particularly deep drive, his cock slammed right against that sensitive spongy spot inside of you.

your entire body stiffened. a sharp jolt of pleasure shot straight to your core, and a loud cry was ripped from your throat. you arched off the mattress, your thighs clamping tight around his hips.

"oh god—right there—michael, please," you sobbed, your fingers digging bruisingly into his back.

michael let out a pathetic whimper at the sound of your voice. he didn't try to hold back anymore. he began to slam into you with a frantic rhythm, his hips grinding against yours messily.

he felt everything as the walls of your cunt throbbed around him, sucking him in and squeezing him base to tip like you were trying to milk him.

"god, you're— you're squeezin’ me so hard," he choked out, his voice cracking. his face was flushed a deep red, his hair sticking to his face where it framed it. "'m gonna— oh— 'm gonna cum, baby, i can't—"

"cum for me, please, baby," you breathed, your own climax coil tightening so fast you could barely breathe.

he hit that spongy spot again and again, his deep thrusts sending you over the edge. your walls clamped down on him in squeezing ripples.

"i-i love you," he gasped out, voice broken. "god, i love y'so much. 'm gonna marry you."

you fell apart at the desperate promise of his words, sobbing his name into the quiet room as the white-hot waves of your orgasm washed over you.

the crushing grip of your climax was the final straw for michael. he let out a loud, shattered groan, his eyes rolling back as his hips locked hard against yours. he buried his head in your neck, his body shaking as he spent himself inside the condom, his cock twitching and throbbing deeply inside you as he poured everything into you.

he remained buried deep inside you, his chest rising and falling against your breasts as his breathing slowly began to level out. the quiet of the bedroom returned, save for the hum of the air conditioner.

suddenly, the weight of what he'd said in the heat of the moment seemed to crash down on him.

michael buried his face even deeper into the crook of your neck, his shoulders tensing up.

he hid his face from you, hiding his flushed cheeks and panicked eyes against your skin. he was quiet, so quiet that you could feel the anxious, rapid thudding of his heart right against your ribs. he was terrified that he'd said too much, too fast, and desperately hoping that the loud haze of your orgasm had somehow drowned out him pouring his soul to you.

"michael?" you whispered, your voice still incredibly soft and raspy as you came down from the high.

he didn't look up, just let out a small, muffled sound against your shoulder.

you reached up, your hands gentle as your fingers slid into his damp curls, cradling his head. you slowly guided his face up, forcing him to look at you. when his eyes finally met yours, his pretty face was burning a deep red, and his lower lip was tucked between his teeth.

"'m... god, 'm so sorry," he stammered. "i shouldn't have... i didn't mean to just blurt out things like that, i know 's fast, i just—"

"michael," you interrupted softly, a tender smile pulling at your lips. you stroked your thumbs over his high cheekbones. "i love you too."

his entire body went slack, the panic in his shoulders melting away in an instant. he stared down at you, his eyes wide and shiny, searchingly looking over every inch of your face to see if you really meant it.

"you do?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, as if he couldn't quite believe the words had actually come out of your mouth.

you nodded, your smile widening as you watched the relief wash over his face. a massive, giddy smile broke across his lips — one he tried so hard to bite back but failed miserably, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of pink.

he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss that tasted like pure happiness. when he pulled back just an inch, his eyes were beaming.

"i know we basically did this all backwards," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing your jaw, his voice incredibly tender. "but... will y'let me be your boyfriend? please?"

you couldn't help but laugh softly at how sweet he was, your heart melting. "of course, michael. you can be my boyfriend."

"so we're boyfriend an' girlfriend now?" he asked, his voice full of wonder, like he'd just won the lottery.

you nodded enthusiastically, making him let out another of those beautiful, breathless giggles. he buried his face in your shoulder for a second, just shaking with pure joy, completely on cloud nine as he held you tight against him.

he let out a long, contented sigh. he carefully rolled off you, tying up and discarding the condom, then immediately coming back and pulling you right against his side so your head rested on his chest.

his fingers began to mindlessly stroke up and down your bare arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. he'd occasionally lean down to press soft pecks to the top of your head, your forehead, and your nose, completely doting on you like he couldn't get enough of you.

after a few minutes of just holding each other, the quiet hum of the bedroom was suddenly broken by a repeating clacking sound.

michael blinked, looking toward the window. it sounded like something was hitting the side of the house. he frowned, carefully rolling off the mattress and walking toward the glass to see what it was.

the bedroom window was slightly open, just enough to let the summer air drift inside.

michael pushed the window open a bit more, leaning out slightly as he looked down. standing right by the edge of the grass was jermaine, holding a handful of tiny rocks. he leaned back, raising an eyebrow with a knowing smirk the second he saw michael's head pop out.

"you two lovebirds done?" jermaine called up, his voice loud and clear.

michael froze, the color instantly draining from his face. "w-what?" he stammered.

marlon walked into view next to jermaine, snickering loudly as he pointed a thumb right up at the window. "mike, next time, maybe close your window."

a deep flush instantly painted itself across your and michael's face, his eyes going wide as saucers as he turned to you, exchanging a panicked look.

you two had some explaining to do.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───

ngl any time i type bikini bottoms im just thinking of spongebob

anyways i think im wrapping the series here, however, im kinda (heavy on kinda) open to having lil drabbles in the future abt these two bc i have attachment issues and prob will not be able to let them go</3

thanks for reading ily

⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔

“c’mon, y/n. a bet's a bet.” michael pouted, letting out a breathless giggle as you buried your face in your hands, groaning. he stood right in the middle of your living room, a proud smile plastered across his face.

you had lost a game of twister at his house the night before, your body tangling up until you collapsed right onto the plastic mat. michael, being the competitive person he was beneath all that sweetness, had spent the entire night dreaming up your punishment.

he didn't even have to tell you what it was, you could already tell by what he was wearing.

standing there in the living room, he was dressed in a dark, puffer jacket left open over a plaid flannel button down, with a cowboy hat resting perfectly over his dark curls. your eyes traced the ridiculously hot outfit before you let out a heavy sigh.

“you said you'd do whatever i wanted if i beat you..” he quietly reminded you, his voice softening, you could see the excitement in his eyes as he awaited your reaction. “so.. we're going riding, i wanna show you the horses! i think you'll.. like it, a lot.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the helpless smile tugging at your lips as you turned and moved toward your bedroom. rummaging through the cluttered mess of your closet, you ignored the sensible jeans and looked straight for something you knew would be perfect. if he was going to force you out into the countryside, you were at least going to wear something you felt cute in.

your fingers landed on a pair of vintage denim cutoffs. they were high waisted, hugging tightly around the curves of your hips as the frayed hem cut high up your thighs, leaving the entire length of your legs exposed. you paired them with a plaid shirt, tucking the front into the waistband of the shorts before pulling on the brown leather cowboy boots michael had given you, which fit surprisingly well.

when you walked back out into the living room, michael was leaning against the back of your couch, spinning his cowboy hat around with his fingers. as the heavy heels of your boots clicked loudly against the floor, he looked up, and the playful grin instantly melted off his face.

“oh.” he breathed out, quickly looking away, and clearing his throat as he adjusted his sunglasses over his eyes. “um.. you look.. really nice, y/n.”

“are they okay to ride in?” you asked innocently, oblivious to michael's flustered reaction.

“y-yeah.” he stammered, a shy smile breaking through his nervousness as he finally forced himself to look back at you. his eyes dropping to your exposed thighs behind his dark lenses. “they're perfect.”

⛰︎ ོ ༄

the drive out to the ranch was quiet, the mountain air brushing softly against your face through the rolled down windows of the car. michael kept his sunglasses firmly in place, focusing his attention on the roads ahead, but his eyes occasionally darted over to where your thighs rested against the smooth leather seat.

every time you caught him looking in your direction, he would quickly adjust the radio or nervously clear his throat, making you laugh to yourself, thinking nothing of it.

by the time you arrived at the caribou ranch, you witnessed michael completely in his element. he whispered to the horses softly, stroking their noses with a gentle hand. “this is tango.” michael smiled, his voice full of warmth. “he's very gentle, y/n. i think he'll be perfect for you.”

it didn't take long before his massive hands made their way around your waist to lift you up onto the horse, the sensation of his touch making your breath hitch in your throat as he helped you mount onto the saddle. his fingers lingered for a second on your bare skin, resting just above the hem of your denim shorts before he cleared his throat and stepped back. “see? you're a natural.” he smiled.

the first hour of the trail ride was beautiful, you had to admit. michael was riding effortlessly ahead of you, his dark jacket framing his broad shoulders as he guided his horse through the trails.

but although he was leading in front of you, he kept looking back, checking on you every few minutes with caring eyes to make sure you were okay.

“this trails so.. bumpy.” you playfully groaned, shifting on the saddle as michael let out a loud laugh in response, fully enjoying watching you complain and struggle behind him.

tango then started moving slower as you sighed and watched michael get further and further ahead. “tango, please.” you pleaded, your impatience starting to grow as tango took his time, investigating nature with his nose.

suddenly, a sharp rustle spooked your horse, causing him to jolt to the side without warning. being inexperienced with horses, you thought the sudden movement was normal, so you tilted your weight back onto the saddle, panting.

but then, tango jolted again, which made your boot slip right out of the stirrup and your entire body shift out of balance. you furrowed your eyebrows, desperately trying to pull your weight back up the moving horse again. you succeeded only after your inner thigh slammed hard on the side of the saddle horn. “ow.. fuck.” you hissed out as you instinctively squeezed your eyes shut, your vision blurring from the sharp sting of pain as you gripped the reins tightly to try and make tango settle down.

“y/n!” michael yelled, his voice cracking with panic as he threw himself right off the saddle, abandoning the reins to let his horse wander off into the grass.

he only cared about you.

he hastily shoved his sunglasses straight into his pocket as he rushed over to your side, worry flickering over every feature of his face. “i’ve got you, okay?” he instantly reassured, his voice trembling as his massive hands reached up, holding your waist once again. he lifted you down from the horse, his touch laced with protectiveness as he held your back tightly with one hand while supporting the back of your thighs with his other.

“m-michael, it's.. fine. i can walk, let's go back.” you tried to say, feeling a wave of guilt for ruining something he had been looking forward to all day. but he wouldn't listen, shaking his head, his jaw tightening as he held you tighter against his chest. “no.. no.. you're hurt.”

he carried you straight toward the privacy of the ranch's cabin, his arms wrapping around your frame as he held you close, hoping the heavy warmth of his body would help ease your pain. with the heel of his boot, he kicked the front door open, carrying you through a narrow hallway and right into a bedroom, gently placing you down onto the edge of the mattress.

“stay right here.” michael said softly before pacing the room up and down. “need some ice.. the fridge.. ice..” you heard him whispering to himself before rushing out of the room, moving as if he was on a timer.

“so cute.” you whispered in the quiet room, a smile tugging at your lips as you heard him shuffling around the cabin's kitchen. you leaned back onto the bed, letting out a soft sigh as the deep throbbing in your upper thigh began to settle into an ache.

moments later, michael returned, holding a small ice pack wrapped in a thin cloth. he had already shed his heavy puffer jacket, leaving him in just the plaid flannel shirt, which clung beautifully to his broad shoulders and his lean frame.

he walked straight over to the edge of the bed where you sat and immediately dropped down onto his knees on the floor, positioning his body right between your legs. slowly, you opened them wider to give him more access to help the bruised part of your thigh.

you watched his jaw tighten instantly, michael's dark eyes tracking the slow movement, his gaze locking onto the sight of you lying back on the mattress, completely vulnerable right in front of him. he swallowed hard, a helpless sound escaping him as he stared at where your shorts rode up, his mind secretly racing with dirty thoughts. yet he battled himself, determination in his eyes to help you, desperately trying to focus on only aiding your wound.

“is... is it okay if i..?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly as he hinted for permission to use the ice pack on your skin.

“mhm.” you breathed out, your voice sounding a little too needy as he slowly moved his hand forward, placing the wrapped ice pack directly against the bruise blooming on your soft flesh.

the contrast of the freezing ice against your aching thigh made you let out a sharp whimper, michael wincing at the sound, his heart breaking at your discomfort. “m' sorry. i know it's cold.”

his free hand reached up instinctively, resting it on the uninjured skin of your opposite thigh to reassure you. “gonna take care of you, okay?”

you looked down innocently at him, your eyes slightly teary from the lingering sting of pain. “you promise?” you whimpered, your voice so fragile and trusting that it made his entire body lock up between your knees.

his heart began to race, and his eyes darkened, taking in your appearance once again. through the fabric of his tight jeans, he could feel himself growing hard, straining uncomfortably against his zipper as he mentally cursed himself.

“i-i promise.” he stammered out, his fingers twitching against your thigh as he paused for a moment before hanging his head low. “this.. is all my fault. i shouldn't have brought you out here... i-i shouldn't have let you wear those shorts.” he was apologizing profusely, but his eyes kept darting hungrily up to your face, watching the way your lips parted with every shallow breath you took.

“it's okay, michael. you're making me feel better.” you reassured, as he nodded slowly, forcing his focus back to the cool cloth in his hand.

then, you shifted slightly on the mattress, looking down at him again with tired eyes, completely unaware of the effect you were giving him. “can... can you massage my other thigh, please?”

michael's movements stuttered completely, the clothed ice pack pausing right against your skin as he glanced at his free hand that was already resting on your other thigh, now all he had to do was move it. “i... yeah. if it helps you.. i can do that.” he whispered with breathless submission.

the sensation was immediately overwhelming. you had the shock of the ice pack on one side, and the warmth of his hand kneading the inner part of your other thigh. you could feel yourself growing wet, warm arousal dampening your panties as his large hand caressed your thigh.

he was so focused, desperately trying to act the part of a perfect gentleman, shaking away the thoughts of your thighs wrapping around him as you fought the same ideas.

but the difference between the two of you was that you couldn't stand it, you needed more.

“michael.” you called out as eyes snapped up to meet yours, his breath catching in his throat at the vulnerability spread across your face. “you should.. take off my shorts..” you exhaled, biting your lip. “to help.”

michael's hand went still against your skin before nodding again, complying without needing a reason. his fingers moved up to the waistband of your shorts as his fingers fumbled with the metal button for a second before he popped it loose. michael gripped the fabric firmly and began to slide the denim down over the curves of your hips. his eyes tracking every single inch of bare skin he was uncovering until you were left in your panties.

“just.. just really hurts..” you faked a broken whimper, your fingers gripping the mattress sheets tightly.

“i don't want you to be in pain..” his voice dropped into a vulnerable tone as he glanced down at the straining erection he had been trying to suppress.

then suddenly, he was the one who couldn't take it anymore.

“i think.. i can make you feel better.” he breathed out, his voice thick with a desperate need.

“you are.” you forced a smile, oblivious to the mutual hunger that was threatening to tear him apart from the inside out.

“no, y/n..” he looked down, a wave of guilt crossing his features as if he was taking advantage of your ‘sweet innocence’, before building the courage to look back up. “wanna make you feel.. so much better..”

your chest heaved as the intensity in his dark eyes left you flustered. “.. yeah?” you exhaled, a small smirk forming on your face as you completely surrendered to him.

he began a slow trail of tender kisses right along the edge of the bruise on your thigh, as if he was trying to heal you with his lips. his large hands reached blindly for the edges of your panties, hooking his fingers over the fabric, his breath hitching as he slowly dragged them down your hips and off your legs.

“so beautiful, mama.” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across your skin as his lips trailed along your inner thighs, worshipping the sensitive skin one last time before he finally moved to meet your aching wetness.

the first touch of his tongue was warm, a satisfied groan slipping from his lips that vibrated directly against your most sensitive spot. the intense sensation of pleasure made you gasp, your fingers gripping tighter into the sheets as your hips lifted off the mattress instinctively.

“is.. is it helping?” he panted against you. he was so desperate to give you everything, to erase the pain of your bruise with nothing but pure pleasure. his eyes looked up through his lashes, shining with shy earnestness as he hung on your every breath, waiting for your answer.

“yes.. a-a lot..” you moaned out, your hands leaving the tangled sheets to grip his curls, your fingers pulling him gently to guide his face back against your weeping center. you were too addicted to the sensation, craving the wet slide of his tongue as if it was the only thing keeping you alive.

his large palms gripped the underside of your thighs, squeezing firmly to hold you steady as he picked up his pace. fuelled by your moans, he became relentless, his tongue sliding in and out of your walls with sweet precision that had your hips rolling against his mouth, helplessly trying to chase his rhythm. michael let out a muffled groan into your skin, already drunk on the taste of you, stroking his tongue as a passionate promise that he wasn't stopping until you came.

“michael…” you whined, your head tossing back as you felt yourself reaching your climax, your entire body tightening up under the onslaught of his tongue. feeling the sudden shift in your breathing, he buried his face further, his nose brushing intimately against you as he formed fast licks right over your aching clit, targeting the hypersensitive bean.

your legs began to tremble uncontrollably as he greedily drank all of you, drowning out your moans with the wet sounds of his lips and mouth devouring you with no mercy. the clench of your internal muscles gave you away, a rush of pleasure building so fast at your core that you had completely forgotten about your bruise.

“mi.. michael, i..” you cried out, your voice breaking into a loud moan as your body gave in to the rush of your release. you came hard, flooding his mouth with your sweet juices as your walls squeezed down ruthlessly around his tongue.

there was silence in the room for a few moments, broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing, before michael began softly stroking your legs to calm you down after doing so good. “do... do you feel better?” he whispered, his voice thick with a mix of awe and lingering desire. he slowly made his way back up the bed, crawling over your body to hover over you, his eyes searching your face with a tender anxiety as you nodded weakly, still catching your breath beneath him.

“mhm... thank you.” you bit your lip sheepishly before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto your chest. using any piece of strength you had left, you flipped him over, pinning him beneath you now.

as you shifted to straddle his waist, the sharp pain from your bruise caught you off guard, forcing a small, pained wince out of your lips.

“y/n, my sweet girl...” michael frowned, his large hands flying to your hips to steady you as he held you in place.

you squeezed your eyes shut for a second to let the sharp sting pass, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “i... i still wanna go riding...” you whispered as your hands slowly slid down the smooth fabric covering his chest.

“mama, your bruise...” he groaned, biting the inside of his cheek as his voice dropped into that deep, raspy register that honestly could've made you cum all over again. he wanted nothing more than to surrender to you, the thick length of his erection pulsing hard between your thighs as if it was begging you to ignore his warnings, but his protective instinct held him back, keeping his grip firm on your hips to stop you from hurting yourself further.

“i don't care.. just wanna make you feel good too, mikey.” you bit your lip, looking down at him through your lashes with a quiet intensity that showed just how certain you were.

michael's breath hitched, the raw devotion in your eyes shattering the last of his resistance as his gaze softened completely, giving a slow, defeated nod.

“okay..” he exhaled as his hands slid from your wrists down to cup the backs of your thighs. his warm palms squeezed firmly, lifting just enough of your weight to support you so you wouldn't strain your injury. “okay, just be careful, mm? lemme hold you.”

without hesitation, you undid his jeans and freed the thick, heavy length of him. he bounded free against your hand, pulsing with readiness that made your breath catch in your throat as you prepared to slide yourself over him.

leaning forward, you began to sink down slowly, but the sudden stretching movement pulled painfully against the bruised flesh of your thigh. it caused your muscles to tighten around him but before the pain could take over, the discomfort was completely swallowed by the dizzying fullness of him being so deep inside of you, stretching you to your limit as you took him in.

a shaky moan tore from deep inside his throat, his head tossing back helplessly against the pillow at the suffocating warmth and wetness of you. “fuck, mama.. so.. so tight..” he groaned out, as his hips giving an involuntary, desperate twitch upwards. his eyes squeezed shut, his entire body practically vibrating beneath you as he fought the urge to take over the pace. his hands squeezing the backs of your thighs, keeping you steady as he let out a shuddering breath. “riding me so... good.”

“oh, michael...” you whimpered, your voice cracking as a helpless moan escaped you, your fingers digging tightly into his shoulders.

michael's eyes snapped open, burning with a mix of desire and sudden panic as he watched the breathless twist of your expression.

“does it hurt? is it your thigh, baby?” he asked anxiously, his thumbs stroking the delicate skin under your thighs.

“no..” you panted, your hips trying to find a smooth rhythm above him. “just want... more.”

hearing those words and feeling the tight squeeze of you as you moved, made him lose his grip on his restraint. his hands slid up to grip your hips, his fingers digging deep into your skin as he took effortlessly took control of the rhythm.

he didn't let you grind or pace yourself anymore, and instead, let his powerful thighs take over, dictating a pace that lifted you up and down onto his thick length ruthlessly. with a low growl, he was thrusting in and out of you without holding back as his dark curls bounced wildly against his forehead with every upward thrust.

“michael.. m’ gonna cum..” you moaned, your head throwing back as your fingers dug into his shoulders, your nails biting into his skin.

“wanna.. feel it...” he said between pants, his gaze locked onto your face as he continued thrusting, burying himself to drive you to that point. your walls instantly clamped around him in tight pulses as a heavy climax washes through your entire body.

the sensation of your orgasm pushes michael to his own climax as he lets out a loud groan, his body slowly easing beneath yours as he releases himself deep inside of you. the feeling of the overwhelming warmth and pleasurable sensation made you collapse forward against his chest, your knees giving out completely as you sob his name into the warm crook of his neck.

michael waited until your breathing slowed before he gently rolled you over, keeping your injured leg carefully elevated as he pressed a long kiss to your forehead.

his fingers softly stroked your cheek, a tender smile forming on his lips. “i love you.” he whispered into the silent room, pulling the thick blanket up over both of your shoulders to tuck you close. “no more.. horse riding, okay? don't want you getting hurt again.”

you smiled up at him through the shadows, a breathless giggle escaping your lips as you leaned forward to kiss him softly on the lips.

It was about 2:14 in the morning the last time you checked the green digital clock on your nightstand before going downstairs, and you done switched sides on the couch for what felt like the fifty thousandth time. You were curled up on said couch in the living room, the only light in the room coming from the warm, amber glow of the flickering television screen playing on mute. You had a satin robe tied loosely around your waist with your silk slip underneath, and your bare legs tucked under a thick throw blanket.

The house was too damn big when he wasn't there. You’d been trying to watch some late night sitcom reruns, but your eyes kept drifting to the heavy doors of the entrance.

You had the AC humming at a cool seventy degrees, but under this blanket, you were burning up. And it wasn't because of the weather outside. It was a deep, simmering heat right in your bones, settling heavy and tight right between your thighs.

Lord knew you loved your man. You loved his drive, his genius, the way his eyes lit up when a new idea clicked in his head. But this tour prep? It was running him ragged, and by default, it was leaving you high and dry; but shit, if you didn't miss your man.

And more than just missing his conversation, your body was aching for him.

You stared up at the ceiling. I ain't had no real lay down in...what? Three weeks? Four weeks? A whole fucking month.

It had been almost a full month since the two of you had really, truly connected. A month of quick, sleepy kisses in the mornings, brief phone calls during his fifteen minute lunch breaks, and falling asleep on opposite sides of a king sized bed because he was too physically exhausted to do anything but pass out the second his head hit the pillow.

Just yesterday, the desperation had gotten so bad you actually tried to take matters into your own hands. You’d dim the lights, pulled down your panties, and tried to get some relief. But it was a disaster. Every time you tried to find the right angle, your hand would cramp, or you’d lose the rhythm, or you just couldn't quite reach the spot that was aching deep inside your pussy. The frustration had built up so fast, hot and heavy behind your eyes, until you just ended up curling into a ball and crying actual tears of pure, unadulterated aggravation.

Imagine crying over some damn fingering. You’d felt so pathetic, sitting there with wet cheeks and a throbbing ache that wouldn't quit.

And now, here you were, twenty four hours later, and the ache was only worse.

Your skin was practically buzzing. Every little rub of the satin robe against your thighs felt like a tease. You’d spent the last hour just thinking about him- his hands, his voice, the way he breathed against your neck when he got worked up. You were needy, plain and simple. You wanted him, and you weren't planning on letting him just slip into sleep tonight without giving you a little piece of himself.

Just as you were about to give up and let sleep take you, the heavy thud of the front door finally echoed through the house.

You sat up, throwing the blanket off your legs. Your heart did a little flutter as you heard the familiar, exhausted sigh, followed by the soft rustle of his jacket being hung up in the closet.

A moment later, Michael walked into the room.

He looked absolutely beautiful, but incredibly worn down. He was wearing black pants, a loose, button down shirt over a white tee, and his black loafers. His curls were damp, clinging to the back of his neck and framing his face in sweaty spirals. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

When he noticed you sitting up on the couch, a soft, weary smile broke through his tired face.

"Hey, beautiful," he murmured, his voice incredibly deep, raspy, and quiet from a long day of singing. "What are you doing up? It's so late."

"Waiting on you," you said, your voice soft but carrying that smooth, slow drawl. You stood up from the sectional, stretching your legs, letting the silk robe part just enough to show a sliver of your thigh. "You look beat, baby."

Michael walked over to you, his movements slow. When he reached you, he just collapsed his forehead right onto your shoulder, letting his arms wrap loosely around your waist. He let out a long, shuddering breath, breathing in the scent of your cocoa butter lotion and the sweet perfume you’d lightly sprayed before he got home.

"I am," he whispered against your collarbone. "We did the choreography for 'Billie Jean' and 'Beat It' back to back today. Frank wanted to run the lighting cues over and over. My knees are aching, sweetheart. I feel like I could sleep for a whole week."

You gently stroked the back of his neck, your fingers slipping underneath the damp curls at his nape. You felt a wave of maternal warmth for him, but right beneath it was a burning, tight sensation in your lower belly.

"Mmh, I know you tired, Mike," you murmured, shifting your hips slightly so they brushed against his. "But I been missin' you. Like, really missin' you."

Michael pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes looking down into yours. He had that soft, gentle gaze he always got when he was looking at you, but there was a distinct fog of fatigue over his pupils. "I miss you too, girl. So much. Let's just go up to bed and cuddle, okay? I just want to hold you."

He reached down to take your hand, intending to lead you toward the grand staircase, but you didn't budge. You held his hand, but you anchored yourself, stepping closer into his space.

"Michael," you whispered, looking up at him with wide, glossy eyes. The desperation in your face must have shocked him, because his gaze instantly sharpened as you continued. "I don't just want to cuddle. I'm bout to go crazy. I swear to God I am. I ain't had none of you in a whole month."

"Have you been crying?"

You bit your lip, a hot flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You didn't want to admit it, but you were too far gone to care about your pride.

"Yeah," you confessed, your voice cracking slightly. "I was. Yesterday. And tonight."

Michael’s brow furrowed, his thumbs soothingly rubbing circles into your hips through the thin silk of your slip. "Why, baby? Tell me. What happened?"

"I just did! Because of this," you burst out, gesturing vaguely down between your bodies.

Michael let out a soft, breathy chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He reached up, gently tapping his fingertips against your chin. "Sweetheart, I love you, and you know I want nothing more than to lay you down right now. But my back is so stiff, and my body is literally aching. I don't think I have the strength to give you what you need tonight. Let me get some rest, and I promise you, tomorrow morning I'll make it up to you."

"Tomorrow morning you gotta be back at the arena by eight, and you know it," you pointed out, stepping even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. You looked up at him through your lashes, letting your lips part slightly. "And I can't wait that long. I'm practically dying over here."

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, kissing your forehead gently. "I just don't have the energy for a whole session."

"I ain't asking for all that," you murmured, your hand sliding down his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart through his shirt. You let your fingers trail down, stopping right at his waistline. "I know you tired. I know your knees hurting. So you don't gotta do all that..."

Michael raised an eyebrow, a slight, intrigued smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, really? And what are you suggesting?"

"Just use your fingers, baby," you whispered, your voice a smooth, seductive purr against his ear. You nipped gently at his earlobe, making him shiver. "Just sit back, relax, and use your pretty hands on me. That's all I need. Just a little taste."

Michael groaned softly, his grip on your waist tightening just a fraction. You could tell he was fighting his own exhaustion, but the temptation of your touch, combined with the desperate tone in your voice, was starting to wear down his defenses. He loved how much you wanted him. He loved that even when he was completely drained, you still craved his touch above everything else. His eyes searched your face, taking in the dilated pupils, and the absolute raw hunger written in every line of your expression. He let out a long, shaky sigh, his head tilting back to look at the ceiling before closing his eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart," he groaned, bringing his head back down to look down at you. "You really know how to play with fire, don't you?"

"I'm burning up, Michael. Put it out."

He looked down at you with hooded eyes, a slow, dangerous smile creeping onto his lips. It wasn't his usual sweet, boyish grin. This was the smile of a man who knew exactly what kind of power he held over you, a man who was about to take his sweet, precious time.

"You're a bad girl," he muttered. "So needy. Using my weakness against me when I'm too tired to fight back. Can't even let a man rest."

"I ain't hear you say no," you teased, your heart racing. "Please, Michael? Just touch me. I'll do whatever you want, just don't leave me dry tonight."

Michael closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply, before opening them again. The exhaustion was still there, but now it was mixed with a heavy, simmering heat. He looked down at your lips, his gaze darkening.

"Alright," he whispered, his voice incredibly thick. "Alright, sweetheart. But we're doing this my way. And you have to promise to do exactly what I tell you."

"Always, baby," you breathed, a thrill running down your spine.

Michael took your hand and led you slowly up the stairs. The house was dead silent, the only sound being the soft pad of your bare feet and his loafers on the carpeted steps. When you reached the master bedroom, the massive space was cool and dark, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the large doors that led to the balcony.

Michael didn't turn on any lights. He preferred the darkness, the intimacy of the shadows.

He walked over to the massive king sized bed, kicking off his loafers before sitting down on the edge of the mattress. He leaned back against the headboard, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He looked up at you, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Come here," he commanded softly.

You walked over, your heart hammering against your ribs, really trying not to smile at how happy you were to be getting someee. You stopped right between his outstretched legs, looking down at him.

Michael reached up, his long, slender fingers catching the tie of your satin robe. With a slow pull, he undone the knot. The silk parted, pooling around your elbows and revealing the lace slip you were wearing underneath.

Michael’s eyes swept down your body, taking in every single curve, the rich warmth of your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with your shallow breathing. He let out a soft, appreciative hum, his hands sliding up your thighs, his palms warm and slightly calloused from years of dancing.

"You look so beautiful," he whispered, his hands smoothing over your hips, resting on your waist. "So beautiful. My sweet girl."

"Michael, please," you whimpered, the heat between your legs blooming instantly at his touch. "I'm already so wet for you."

"Shh," he murmured, his fingers gently digging into your hips, anchoring you. "Don't rush me. I told you, we're going slow. If I'm doing this, I'm taking my time."

He pulled you closer, guiding you to climb onto the bed. "Sit on my lap, facing away from me," he instructed, his voice all low and steady.

You did as you were told, turning around and straddling his thighs, your back pressing against his chest. The feeling of his broad chest against your back, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck, made you shiver.

Michael wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, kissing the soft spot right beneath your ear.

"You feel so good," he murmured. "So soft. So warm," he whispered, moving his head up, his lips brushing against your temple. "And you smell so good. What is that?"

"Cocoa butter. The one you like," you mumbled, your hands finding his thigh, tracing down to his knee. "Now stop stallin', Michael."

He let out a tired but rich laugh that vibrated against your chest. "Alright, alright. Impatient little thing."

His hands slowly slid down from your waist, moving over the smooth fabric of your slip, down to where your thighs met. You parted your legs slightly, giving him access, but Michael wasn't in a hurry. He kept his palms flat against your outer thighs, gently rubbing them in slow, circular motions.

"Michael..." you groaned, shifting your weight, trying to press your pussy against his hand.

"Stop moving," he whispered against your ear, his voice firm but gentle. "Just relax. Let me handle it."

You let out a breathy sigh, forcing your muscles to relax, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

Slowly, agonizingly so, Michael’s right hand slipped inward. His long fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, light as a feather. You trembled, your fingers gripping the bedsheets beside you. He trailed his fingers up, closer and closer to the lace of your underwear, but just when you thought he was going to touch you, he retreated, sliding his hand back down to your knee.

"Michael, stop teasing me," you whined. "You playin' too much. Just touch it."

Michael let out a soft chuckle against your neck. "You've been waiting a month, a few more minutes isn't going to kill you."

He repeated the motion, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thighs, slowly acclimating your body to his touch, building the anticipation until you were literally panting, your hips involuntarily twitching.

Finally, his hand slipped underneath the lace material.

When his bare fingertips made contact with your swollen, soaking wet center, you let out a loud gasp, your back arching off his chest.

"Oh, fuck..." you breathed, your eyes closing tight. "Michael..."

"Mmh, look at that. Look at you," his voice incredibly soft, almost reverent. He felt how warm and slick you were, his fingertips instantly becoming coated in your juices. "You're soaking wet for me, girl. You really were needy, weren't you?"

"Yes," you confessed, your fingers gripping his bicep, your voice cracking. "Yes, baby. I been wanting you so bad."

Michael didn't immediately start stroking you. Instead, he just rested his palm against your mound, letting you feel the heavy, warm weight of his hand. He began to apply a slow, steady pressure, moving his palm up and down, grinding your sensitive flesh against himself. Michael might have been too tired to move his body, but his hands had a mind of their own.

And though friction was intense, it wasn't enough. You wanted his fingers in you.

"Please, Mike. Put 'em in. Just a little bit," you begged, turning your head slightly to try and catch his lips.

Michael turned his head to meet yours, pressing a deep, slow, open mouthed kiss to your lips. He tasted like sweet mint. He kissed you thoroughly, his tongue lazy and heavy, mirroring the slow rhythm of his hand down below.

While he kissed you, his middle finger slowly slipped inside of your pussy.

You let out a muffled moan into his mouth, your walls clenching tightly around his finger. They were so long, and the intrusion felt incredibly deep and full.

Michael pulled back from the kiss, his eyes heavy, watching your face in the dim moonlight. He saw the pleasure written across your features, your lips parted, your brow slightly furrowed as you tried to cope with the sensation.

"You're so tight," he whispered, his finger remaining completely still inside you. "So warm."

"Move it, baby," you pleaded, your hips giving a desperate little twitch. "Please, move it."

"Shh, easy," he murmured. "Let me stretch you out first."

He slowly curled his finger inside you, hooking it slightly against your front wall. The sudden friction against your g-spot made your eyes roll back, a loud broken moan escaping your throat. "Oh, shit- ! Michael...Michael!"

"I got you," he whispered, his voice incredibly deep and steady.

He slowly slid a second finger, his index finger, inside alongside the first. The fit was incredibly snug, making you stretch around him. He began a slow, rhythmic in and out motion. It wasn't fast, and it wasn't rough.

He began to move his fingers, but it was agonizingly slow. He would slide it almost all the way out, letting you feel the slick friction of his exit, only to push it back in with a slow thrust that was incredibly deep. With every stroke, his fingers coated themselves in your slickness, the wet, squelching sound filling the quiet bedroom, making your face burn with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

Over and over, he kept the pace tortuously slow. He was making sure you felt every millimeter of his fingers sliding inside you.

You were losing your mind. Your body wanted him to move fast, wanted to ride his hand to get that quick, explosive release, but every time you tried to speed up the pace, tried to really buck your hips and fuck yourself on this man's hand like a bitch in heat, Michael’s hand on your hip would tighten, holding you firmly in place.

"No, no," he cautioned, his deep voice vibrating against your back. "Don't rush, baby. Just feel how good it is."

"It's too slow, Michael," you cried out, a tear of frustration and pleasure escaping the corner of your eye. "You torturing me."

"I'm loving you," he corrected softly, his finger finally finding your highly sensitive clit.

He didn't rub it. He was just pressed down gently, holding his finger there while his fingers on his other hand continued its slow, deep curls inside of you.

The combination of the deep, slow penetration and the steady, heavy pressure on your clit sent a massive wave of electricity straight to your core. Your legs began to shake, your inner muscles contracting violently around his finger.

"That's it," Michael murmured, feeling the pre orgasmic ripples of your body. "You like that, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, right there, Mike," you gasped, your voice completely wrecked. "Right there."

He kept his movements steady, his long fingers working inside you with a masterful, lazy rhythm that was driving you over the edge. He didn't have to strain himself; he just lay there, watching your face in the dim light, enjoying the way he could make you unravel with just a fraction of his effort.

"I'm not going to let you come yet," he whispered, his voice dripping with a playful, dominant malice.

And just like that, he eased up. He pulled his fingers almost completely out, his fingers lightly brushing away from your sweet spot, leaving you hovering right on the edge of a cliff, completely suspended.

You let out a frustrated, heartbroken groan. You grabbed his thighs, turning to look up at his handsome, smug face. He looked so incredibly handsome, his features all soft and full of love.

"Michael, why you doing me like this?" you whined, completely exasperated. "You know I'm right there. Don't play with me like this, baby, I'm begging you."

Michael down at you, his eyes incredibly soft but holding a deep, intense hunger. He reached over, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb wiping away the stray tear of frustration.

"Because I want it to last," he whispered honestly. "If I let you come right now, you're going to fall asleep, and I won't get to feel you like this for another long time. I want to enjoy you, sweetheart. I want to see how much you can take."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine, deep affection mixed with the primal desire to possess you, to dominate your pleasure. The frustration faded instantly, replaced by a deep submission.

"Okay," you whispered. "Okay. Do what you want. Just don't stop."

Michael smiled, a beautiful smile. "I won't stop."

He reached down, his hands catching your thighs and spreading them wider, draping your legs over his own. He adjusted himself slightly, leaning back a bit more so he had a clear view of your pussy.

He dipped two fingers into your slick pool of moisture, coating them completely before he slowly pushed both fingers deep inside you, a sharp gasp escaping your lips.

"Ohhh- hnnmm," you whimpered, your hands moving down to grip the sheets for dear life.

Michael began to pump his fingers inside you, but he kept the pace slow, steady, and incredibly deep. He was curling his fingers upward, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over again with a wet, rhythmic squelch that echoed.

His other hand reached up, his thumb gently circling your clit, match the slow rhythm of his fingers. Every slide of his fingers made you lose your breath. You closed your eyes, your head rolling back against his shoulder, your hips rolling against his hand as you let out low moans.

You were completely at his mercy. Every touch was calculated, designed to build the tension in your lower belly until it was almost unbearable.

"Michael...please...I can't..." you cried out softly, your hands clutching the satin sheets, your toes curling. The pleasure was rolling through you in waves, so overwhelming because you had waited so damn long for it.

"Yes you can," he whispered, his voice a soothing, hypnotic tone. "Just ride the wave, baby. Let it build. I've got you."

He kept you on that agonizing edge for what felt like hours, but was likely only fifteen minutes of sensory torture. He would build you up until your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, asking you to "Look at me, baby," with a hypnotic tone, his finger applying a perfect, steady pressure to your clit while his other fingers stroked deep inside you, and then he would slow down even more, whispering sweet, encouraging words into your ear, kissing your neck, your ear, your lips, until your body settled just enough for him to start the build up all over again.

By the time he finally decided to let you go, you were completely spent, your body vibrating with a tension so tight it felt like a coiled spring. "You love it when I touch you like this?" he asked, his voice a low, commanding purr.

"I love it...I love you, Mike...I'm about to..." you sobbed softly, not even able to finish your sentences, your fingers digging into his thighs, likely leaving light red marks that you couldn't see because of his pants. "I need to come. Please, baby. Let me come."

Michael looked down at you, his own breathing heavy now, his face flushed with heat. He saw how completely undone you were, how entirely devoted you were to his touch in this moment.

"Alright, baby," he whispered, his voice incredibly tender. "Come for me. Right now."

He suddenly sped up his movements, his fingers thrusting deeply and rapidly inside of you, while his thumb rubbed your clit in fast, intense circles.

The sudden shift in pace was too much. Your body instantly locked up.

A loud, soul shattering cry tore from your throat as your vision went completely white. Your walls clamped down on his fingers in tight, rhythmic spasms, squeezing him with incredible force. You arched your back, before your entire body began shaking violently as the intense, delayed orgasm crashed over you in waves, going on and on, seemingly never ending because of how long he had held you back. Your hips bucked against his hand, your chest heaving as you rode it out.

Michael held you tightly against him, his fingers staying deep inside you, feeling every single contraction of your climax. He buried his face in your neck, letting out a low, satisfied groan of his own as though he were the one nutting, completely intoxicated by your pleasure. He let you shake, kissing away the happy tears that gathered at the corners of your eyes.

"Yes, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice all thick and warm. "That's it. Let it out. Give it all to me."

You collapsed against his chest, your muscles completely jelly, your heart pounding like a drum. You were panting heavily, sweat lightly shining your forehead, letting the contractions gently squeeze him until the worst of the tremors faded into a lazy, warm afterglow.

Slowly, carefully, Michael slipped his fingers out of you. He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a soft hand towel to clean himself and you, his movements incredibly tender and caring.

Once you were both cleaned up, he pulled you back into his arms. You collapsed against his chest, completely spent, your forehead resting right over his heart. You could hear it beating- a steady, comforting thump thump, thump thump.

"You alright now, needy girl?" he teased softly, his chest rumbling against your cheek.

You released a soft, satisfied hum, wrapping one leg over his thigh, tangling your bodies together. "I'm perfect. Thank you, baby."

"Anytime," he murmured, his voice incredibly heavy now, his eyes already fluttering shut. "Now...let your man get some sleep."

"Go to sleep, Mike," you whispered, kissing his warm chest.

Within minutes, his breathing slowed into a deep, even rhythm. You lay there in the quiet of the bedroom, warm, fully satisfied, and completely loved, listening to the soft sound of his breathing as the neon green clock ticked away into the morning.

You were really, really happy to be in Paris.

Michael knew it was always a dream of yours to go there. So when he surprised you during your summer break with a flight to come visit him in the City of Lights, you were sure your gleeful screams were loud enough to disturb your neighbors.

Sure, you hated long flights without him and he knew that, but you’d fly through hell for him, and he knew that too. And the last few months were hell without him.

Daylight rewarded your patience by gently waking you up in the warm, secure arms of your boyfriend. 

Just the sight of him resting made up for the turbulence in your heart.

He was bathed in the softest golden glow. The sheer balcony curtains diffused the warm morning sun into sparkling beams that stretched across the room, caressing the high points of his soft, slumbering face. It was your turn to be lulled by the gentle sleepy flutter in his chest as he held you close, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. His sleep-smushed hair was so cute that it made you giggle in his arms, dark curls haphazardly splayed every which-way and contrasting against the ivory pillowcase. It took everything out of you not to touch him. To resist selfishly sweeping the preserved spirals on his forehead out of his eyes to ogle him better. Resist running your fingertips down the bridge of his nose. His long lashes spidered from his resting lids, creating shadows above the unconcealed designer bags under his eyes. 

Watching him sleep was a secret joy for you, especially ‘cause he rarely got any these days. Michael evaded sleep like his fame and fortune would completely vanish if he closed his eyes and rested for once. Before the third leg of his tour, his schedule was brutal - studio sessions at the wee hours of the night, early morning choreography rehearsals followed by an afternoon stage fitting, maybe a quick bite on the way to a hospital visit or charity event before an occasional award show, rinse, repeat repeat repeat. Of course you’d fit time in between to nag him about it, completely throwing off his schedule, which would end up with you both playfully bickering. And then he shut you up the best way he knew how, leaving you dazed and wondering where he got the energy to put you through the mattress like that. Not long into pillowtalk, you’d notice him mumbling replies... soon asleep to the sound of your heartbeat, peacefully nuzzled between your bare breasts with sweaty curls stuck to his face. Content with ignoring his commitments for just a little bit.

You wouldn’t be surprised if your version of Heaven was like that. Shielded away from the demand of the world, the drama and entitlement that came with money, glitz and glamour. 

Somewhere you and Michael would be at peace, tucked in his arms like you were now.

Your tired, pretty baby.

His lips looked as plush and as soft as they were, staring at them made you bite your bottom one to hold yourself back from waking him with a barrage of kisses. You toyed with the idea, honestly. Then, his grip on you tightened in his sleep… corners of his mouth upturned a bit, like his mind’s usual chaos had been replaced with something beautiful, serene. His whisper-soft sigh made his Adam's apple bob in his throat, highlighting the dark passion marks on his neck and chest… 

Memories of last night’s activities made you hot all over.

Morning brought calm after the storm that had passed through the suite last night, leaving items of clothing scattered around the room, floor… reminders.

🗼 

The way he embraced you. Delved into you. Kissed you like your mouth was holy, reverent… a necessity to sustain his life and purpose as true as air to breathe. His lips admonished every piece of your skin revealed as he ceremoniously undressed you, doe-eyes sparkling up at your warm expression. You caressed his hair as he whispered his excitement to see you, inhibited desires he’s been holding on to for this moment as well as praises onto your deep toned flesh. His voice was soft, but sure, making you squirm anxiously against his body. You could physically feel aches of his longing as you unbuttoned his shirt to return the gesture, pressing hot, open mouth kisses against his collarbone and pecks, taking advantage of a moment to show you missed him just as much. It was so sweet, so romantic, it affected him deeply… made him nervous like it was the first time all over again, hands trembling as he touched you, helping you out of your clothes…

The primal look in his eyes as he stared at you quite literally halted your breath.

In juxtaposition, he moved intentionally and took his time… like rushing would break you out of the spell you both were in. You were fully naked now so he pulled you close, and soft sounds emitted from you as his mouth peppered kisses around your breasts. He spent what felt like forever there, slightly bending to change his vantage point while never taking his eyes off yours. His tongue swirled around and around your right nipple first until his lips pulled back with suction so delicious, you genuinely pouted when he pulled away. Releasing your skin with a wet pop, he smiled and switched to the left nipple, teasingly flickering the tip of his tongue over it as he rolled the right one between his fingertips. 

Michael knew how sensitive you were there.

So he continued, hungrily licking and sucking around until your gentle sighs turned into whimpers and your hips rutted towards his bulge. Your wordless desperation for touch was graciously answered when he slid his clothed thigh between your legs, giving you some much needed friction. Needy sounds littered the air and he couldn’t help but groan at how good you sounded, cherry on top of the sensation of your warm, wet rotations against his leg. Your head lolled back briefly as he kept going, overwhelmed at the sight of him gripping your tits in his large hands and pressing them together to greedily lap and suck both nipples at the same time. 

The distinct feeling of your stickiness seeping through his slacks made you blush but he just smirked, coyly asking if he could come down there, taste it, as if you would say no to being worshipped in that way.

On your knees, baby. 

It was a simple acknowledgement from you regarding his request, yes, but the authority and affection coupled with your neediness made him burn all over. Made him want to obey. And when he kneeled before you, all he could think about was how he prayed for this, how blessed he was to be in your presence after three long months. If only his pastor could see him now.

All that could be heard in the hotel suite was the sound of both of your labored, anxious breathing. His hands held your hips tenderly, pulling you closer until his nose was pressed against the moist juncture of your thighs, inhaling.

God, I missed you. 

Voice tender, you could hear the rawness of his emotions bubbling up onto the surface… as if your pheromones unsheathed something painfully rooted deep inside of him, sealed until that very moment. All the overworking, the decision making, performing, being on all the time, battling with loneliness, unworthiness. He didn’t have to go through any of that with you, or worry about not being enough. He could just feel, and be. And God, it felt good to just feel. Just be.

Your hands gently caressed his face and you weren’t surprised to find tears there. Using your thumbs, you gingerly brushed them away from his eyelashes, cheeks... He wouldn’t look at you, maybe feeling shy and a bit exposed with his silent outpour of relief but it didn’t bother you at all… you know he loved you, and you loved him and all that came with him including his gooey heart. You tilted his chin up anyway.

In the sweetest voice, you redirected his shyness and instructed him to keep his eyes on you. He nodded and there you stood with his arms wrapped around your middle while you rubbed his shoulders softly, played with his curls, whispered that he was okay, safe with you. That you were proud of him, and that he could let go and unpack, breathe and be present. You had time. He fought for this time with you, through hell and high water.

Your desire was still simmering, but your heart ached for him as you cared for his spirit in a way that only you could. You’d do it a million times, and he knew that too. 

After his sobs subsided, Michael ran his hands across your flesh, affectionately kissing the soft skin under your belly button. Heat was in his eyes now as he smiled, genuinely smiled, relieved, ready for more.

I’m so grateful for you, mama. Can I show you?

His fingers spidered down your ankle, lifting it to plant a kiss there first before dragging his lips up your calf so achingly slow, full-body goosebumps bloomed across your skin. He adjusted your leg until the back of your knee was resting on his shoulder, waiting for permission. 

Mmhm… yes Mikey, show me.

You watched his gaze fall to your love bite adorned breasts, then at his own hands as they wrapped around to hold your waist, thumb tracing your belly button, until his eyes landed on the absolute delicacy between your legs. With his head tilted, he nuzzled into your folds, eyes rolling closed and groaning as soon as the mouth-watering flavor of your pussy hit his taste buds. 

Shit, Michael was a starved man, and for three months he had an insatiable craving that no food could quell. A craving only you could satisfy.

Your body jerked in response to the vibrations of his moans. His grip immediately shifted to your hips to support you, but mostly to press you firmly against his mouth. Closer and closer… until you couldn’t tell where your clit ended and the gentle laps from his mouth began. Before Michael, you never knew a man could be hungry for you.

And hunger was an understatement. 

Michael loved eating you. His favorite way to submit to you was by consuming you wholly, completely. He’d gladly lose time with his face buried in your pussy, accomplished only when your moans went hoarse, your slick smeared all over your thighs, glistening around his mouth, hands, bed, everywhere… Like his purpose was to be the vessel your body rocked desperately against in pleasure. Being yours, being used by you, pleasing you… he couldn’t do it enough.

Lust and longing created an ache that moved between the two of you ceremoniously, built from too much time apart. He moved like he rediscovered home in your softness, the wetness of you, like it had been all this time. Like he was homesick and the plushiness of your heated flesh against his mouth was the key that unlocked the door to his most favorite place in the world. His tongue moved languidly around your clit; up, down, up, down, slow circles, repeat, repeat, repeat, making you open-mouth moan and chase with your hips. Any thought you had in your mind was wiped like an Etch-A-Sketch when you stared down at his wide eyes, pupils blown, panting.

Fuck baby, you’re eating me so good—you’re doing so so good…

Your well was overflowing, so much so that you could hear him slurping and moaning between your legs. He responded against your wet flesh, words coming out between short pants and grunts as you caressed his curls.

Anything f’you, mama—so wet, wanna please you. Needed this bad—missed you on my tongue…

The sound of your heartbeat was loud in your eardrums. Your breath was coming out in uneven pants. It was getting harder and harder to keep steady…  Michael had you right where he wanted you and he knew it. He swirled his tongue down to slip inside your twitching hole, encouraging you to ride his face while his nose rubbed against your swollen nub. Your body trembled in his grip as your hips rocked back and forth, letting him know you were close… so he added suction, rhythmically lapping at your clit at the same time. Trembles turned into twitches and shudders wracking your body… intensely, unwavering.

Right there—yes—God, I missed you so much, Michael—yes make me cum—don’t stop…

He obliged like you knew he would. His grip tightened on your ass while he hungrily nodded and shook his head for friction, urging you over the edge and mumbling for you to let it go with his mouth still attached to you. 

You came roughly, moaning through gritted teeth and gasping as your back bowed—the sensation so intrinsically euphoric and expansive and missed that it unwrapped you, bringing tears to your eyes. You sobbed earnestly, feeling raw, gasping, shaking as he continued with his firm grip and unwavering stare. Michael was never content with just making you cum. He wanted more. To break you open too. Return the favor, remind you of how much he wanted to crawl in your skin and live there forever. 

He loved you so much. 

So much so, that he curved his long fingers inside your slick entrance and pumped them in and out, in and out, in and out… sending you babbling and flying full speed off the edge into the warmest orgasmic waves, eyes rolling back. Each convulsion reminded you that even when you were thousands of miles away, you didn’t have anything to worry about. That he still belonged to you.

God, there were so many reasons to be happy.

The remnants of pleasure that overcame your senses finally calmed, and you gathered yourself as he stood in front of you, content, licking you from his fingers, wrist and mouth.

Take those off and sit on the bed. You instructed, not taking your eyes off him. 

It still made him shy sometimes to be naked in front of you. Like one day you’d decide you didn’t like what you saw. So you always made sure to pay attention while he undressed, this time with your hand anxiously rubbing between your legs. He was beautiful. 

The sinews of his arms and shoulders flexed with the lean pecs on his chest, distracting you a bit as he slid his belt out of the loops of his slacks and tossed it to the floor next to his button up. You loved art, taught art history at a local college in your city, so for all intensive purposes, you knew art. And he was art. What he would deem were splotchy areas of skin were intricate designs of the masterpiece that was him. Hand sculpted just for you. It made you cry sometimes, how conscious he felt about his body. He was the owner of a dancer’s frame that worked tirelessly, even through shame, creating magic and beauty anyway despite all the pain it endured. Exposure therapy was nights and nights of kisses from you, lips decorating every “imperfection” he declared, until his eyes were wet and he felt covered in love, affection, acceptance, and desire. 

The same desire you felt watching him gracefully slide out of his black slacks and briefs.  

There’s my pretty baby…

Your praise made him breathlessly smile and blush behind his hands as he kicked his pants off and sat on top of the plush duvet. He was so cute, God, even embarrassed, his dick sticky and twitching against his belly. Even with the taste of you still rolling around on his tongue.

You reached between his legs to press your fingertips against his erection, effectively causing his hands to ease away from his face as both your eyes fell to his lap. His foreskin eased down with your fingers to reveal more of his flushed mushroom tip, engorged with the blood flow of arousal and glistening with precum. The urge to take him in your mouth almost won… you wanted to devour him until your jaw was sore, until his shuddering body folded in half, until he filled your throat with every spurt of his pent up arousal and the only names he could whimper were yours and God’s. So tempting… your mouth watered as you gawked unashamed, wrapping your fingers around what you would call a very sizable, warm, thick, throbbing work of art, fair skin peppered with deeper toned areas like the rest of his body. But you’d satiate that craving later. You really needed him inside you.

Michael’s breath hitched as his hips involuntarily bucked upward at the contact. You loved him needy. Smirking, you took your hand away until his body relaxed. Then you did it again, teasing him with lighter touches to hear him whimper and sigh before cupping his chin with your free hand to press a soft kiss on his lips.

Mmm eeeasy, cowboy… that’s what you get for hiding from me. D’you know how much I love you? Missed you? 

If you one day got lost in his bright brown eyes, you’d never return. He nodded gently, lids heavy as he stared at you like you were the expanse of the universe.

Yeah, mama, I do.

You shook your head and tsked, stealing another kiss as you climbed on top of him. 

Not hiding, you don’t. Lemme remind you…

The invitingly warm and snug suction into your walls, hot and slick and enveloping, did wonders for his memory as you descended his dick. An airy fuck left your lips as you sunk, lower and lower… He was inside you, and even just that felt so good—good enough to begin to sooth the ache distance created in your soul and body all at once. 

Watching the blissed out expression wash over his pretty features activated something in your mind that you couldn’t really explain. His shallow breaths, his eyes fluttering upward in response to your pussy slowly accommodating every inch of him was worth every anxious minute you spent on that flight, bouncing your leg, ready to get to him. Every late night phone call you spent with him laughing the ache away, crying it away, moaning it away. You missed the feeling of fullness, the way he fit perfectly inside you. Better than your fingers. Better than the toys you used on yourself when he wanted to hear you lose control for him in his absence. His body shuddered as you eased your mouth against his for another slow kiss, savoring the taste of yourself on him as he bottomed out. 

Mmh, you barely fit, shit… feel how much I miss you, hmm?

He couldn’t control his whimpers as his hips undulated underneath you, body begging you to move.

Fuuuuck, yes—God—pleaseeee, mama, please I need you…

You wanted to relish in it a little bit.

Riding him satisfied your desire for control, your want to make him lose his composure and inhibitions completely and get lost in you. This was your show now—this bed, your stage, and both of your bodies were performing a tantalizing duet that always topped the charts of your bedpost. Michael didn’t need any music to fall into step with your illicit choreography, body molding into your moves just right. He was so anxious, so ready to feel what dance you’d do next he was twitching inside of you, hands holding your hips so tight you were sure he’d leave fingerprints.

Eyes on me…

You kept direct eye contact with him while rotating your hips, waist winding in a slow and steady rhythm you knew would drive him crazy as you held his neck. His pulse thumped under your palm as he groaned, rhythm of his heart matching your own.

There was nothing in this world… nothing, more encouraging than the grip of Michael’s feverish hands as he kneaded your body as you rode. Nothing more stimulating than the muffled tenor of his open-mouth moans against your jaw, mixing with your lead vocal to create the most sensual harmony. He danced his fingertips down your back, making your spine elongate and curve into him more until your nipples rhythmically grazed his chest with your movements. This was Heaven to him. 

He wanted more. One of his large hands came down on your ass, smacking it roughly. The whimper from your lips at the impact made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the tinge of pain mixed with the mind-numbing tingles in your limbs encouraging you to go faster.

Feels good, don’t it? Mmhm I can tell, baby… it’s twitchin’ so deep in me, mm, you ready to cum?

Your slow ride turned into a full-on bounce and Michael leaned back a bit to capture the moment, taking mental pictures he wanted to keep for the rest of his life. God, you were so beautiful, staring at him through barely open eyes, battling between staying present and succumbing to the pent up tension up in your lower belly as your body moved at a dangerous pace, bruised breasts bouncing on each impact. His eyes locked on where you both connected, watching incredulously as your swollen pussy made him disappear and reappear like magic while your thighs slapped down on his over and over again with a wet plap plap plap. Admiring all the creaminess you’d worked up around his dick made his balls tighten even more… that milky white substance in a thick ring around the base of his shaft, some of which had since smeared everywhere between his legs. 

You sped up just a little more and…. 

Oh God, oh you feel s’good mama yes—I’m about to—please

Michael’s mouth gaped open, words coming out jumbled as his body curled up on itself and against you instinctively. His hips rose off the bed, tensing as the pressure of his orgasm rose from his thighs to his heavy sack, then to his dick, until it twitched into an eruption as it all became too much to contain. He was hitting your spot deliciously still, enough to trigger your own release but you were relentless, focusing on squeezing your muscles around him as you came up, pulsing them as you came down. The sound of your ass smacking in his lap was faster now, and you did it over and over and over until the room was filled with his grunts and whimpers and pleads for you not to stop, face contorted in pleasure.

Making him cum first always tipped you over the edge. 

There was something so dirty about it; the warm feeling of his release filling you up in hot spurts, so much that you’d end up using it as lube to go again. There was always so much, he’d leak out of you into his own lap or on the sheets where you both could watch between sessions…  And if he was feeling particularly sentimental that day, he’d collect any of his renegade cum on his fingers and push it back inside you. For safe keeping, he’d say.

Michael shut his eyes tight at the beginning of your spasms, senses overloaded and overwhelmed and still wanting more. So much so, he took matters into his own hands, literally, slipping his hand between your bodies to roll his thumb around your swollen clit as he continued to twitch inside you, still hard. The gracefulness of your movements graduated into desperation, and there was an unmistakable tremble in your body as you chased the feeling, moaning in crescendo… probably loud enough for the whole hotel floor to hear.

That’s it mama, yes yes yes—take it, use me—I wanna feel you, s'good please

His encouragement was joined by a firm grip on your ass, taking over from underneath to pound up into you until your vision blurred around the edges. You came hard, screaming his name, walls convulsing so intensely around him that he had no choice but to cum again...

🗼 

Michael shifted underneath you again, the gentle caress of his hand on your back taking you out of your vivid memories. 

“Baby.” His voice was thick with much-needed rest. He sounded so good, your ears immediately perked up in attention, chin resting on his chest.

“Yes?”

“You watchin’ me sleep again?” The edges of his mouth quirked up, contradicting the playful judgement in his tone.

“I can’t help it, you’re so pretty…”

His eyes opened in a squint from the brightness, already blushing as he looked down at your doting face.

“Baby…” He warned but you didn’t listen, instead leaning up to dramatically kiss his hot cheeks over and over until you felt his body shake with laughter against you.

Once you got out most of your pent up affection, you planted a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I could lay here with you forever.” 

“Forever, huh? Ironic you say that…” Michael smirked, pulling one of your hands up to kiss your knuckles. “I was thinkin’ about startin’ somethin’ forever, today.”

Your initial confusion lasted for about five business minutes until you caught sight of your left hand. There, a big, fat radiant cut diamond sat snug on your fourth finger. 

Yes.

Michael is your first boyfriend, and to say you’ve been overthinking everything you’ve been doing in the relationship is an understatement. More-so when it came to intimacy, how you two don’t share the same knowledge on it.

Your friends hasn’t failed to constantly remind you how lucky you are to have a boyfriend who doesn’t mind going at your pace, not one complaint leaving his mouth when makeouts don’t go further, because if you’re satisfied with it, it’s more than enough for him.

Yet that doesn’t mean you don’t have thoughts to take it one more step, urges even. Your shy nature getting in the way of your hunger is beyond frustrating, and tonight is a great example of it.

You take your hands somewhere they haven’t been, dipping fingertips inside his pants to lightly tug. You speak before he had the chance to raise a questioning brow.

“Please, I—“ You swallow, ignoring how hot your face already is, or your brain screaming to you you’re not ready when that’s not how your heart is feeling. “I need you.”

The silence that follows is thick, hearing every distant chatter outside the mobile van, every rise of each other’s chest to breathe. You almost pondered if you mistakenly said it in your head and should repeat, until you felt warm hands grab ahold of yours.

His thumbs swipe across your knuckles gently, eyes searching in yours for any hesitancy. “Are you sure?”

You nod, reassuring by leaning in for another kiss. His hands push against your shoulders for your back to hit the cushions of the couch, breaking the kiss to leave small nips into the heated skin of your neck.

You gasp at the new sensation, lolling your head to the side to give him more skin to paint as many hickeys as he wants. How long you forced yourself to deprive any affection that go past kisses from him, you’re convinced he could make you come just from this alone.

You focused so much on the softness of his lips on your sensitive skin that you failed to remember when he started to take off your jeans, now left in your panties that are embarrassingly soaked too soon for your liking.

“You’ll tell me if you change your mind about this, right?”

You were fearing that would happen in the next couple minutes, but with the way he starts to slip his hand under the damp fabric for that first push of his fingertip to your entrance, you can barely see that happening anymore.

Your muscles tighten, the rest of his digit sinking, can’t help but clench around just the smallest part of him inside you.

“God, you’re so tight… I can’t imagine how you’ll take me.” He murmurs, doing a slow agonizing flex of his finger inside. He watches every uneven, ragged breath leave you, every sharp pulse being sent to you when he nestles deeper, not wanting to miss any discomfort your face might make.

Your body flutters around him, gasping at a second finger prodding to enter alongside with the one already in. He brings a hand to cup the side of your cheek, sprinkling kisses on all around your face. “Talk to me, ma. Is this still okay? How’re you feeling?”

Bless him for continuing to check in to see if you still want this, for you had your eyes squeezed shut since this started. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down to see his hand between your legs, pulling such lewd noises from you that makes you want to hide your face into the crevice of the couch.

Your walls begin to welcome each slow pump of his finger, which has you buck your hips up to brush against his hardening bulge, thinking you’re ready. “Yes, I’m okay— just—“

Your sentence dies as you feel his free hand get ahold of your hip, putting a stop to your desperate grinds. “Impatient, are we?”

He huffs out a giggle from your pout, seeing you not understand why he’s dragging this on the night you’re finally willing to take things to a next level. “Sweet girl, you’ll regret me not stretching you out first before taking me. I know you want it, and you’ll have it, but trust me for right now.”

And with that, he sinks a second finger in, pushing in as deep as it can go. They still for a long moment, letting you adjust, letting the heat coil heavier inside of you.

Every slow drag is calculated, rhythm perfect and precise, making sure your body has no choice but to open up for him. Your body jerks from a particular sharp stroke, a wrecked gasp leaving you, your stomach beginning to tighten. You were expecting to be met with pure bliss a few seconds later, but he retracts his fingers back, glistening in the light from your slick.

Your stomach does a flip at the sight of him bringing the two fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while holding your overwhelmed gaze. “You’ve been hiding this sweet taste from me for this long?”

He knew you wouldn’t respond, too busy covering half of your face that’s been burning up each second. He fumbles with the fastenings of his pants, dragging them halfway down until he’s bare for you to admire.

Your mouth nearly goes dry at the sight, how heavy his cock sits between his legs. You feel your cunt begin to clench around nothing, the anticipation overbearing.

As if he could hear your worries, he leans down to press a small peck to the corner of your lips. “It’ll fit, I promise.”

You hold onto his forearms as he lets you feel the weight of it first, heated head of his cock dragging slowly across your clit. Your breathing shatters, his grip on your hips tightening as he drags himself across again, coating his cock in your wetness with each glide.

Your thighs tremble from every teasing press, gasping each time it swipes past your entrance. You sense how he’s waiting for your permission, working you up until you don’t have a choice but to plead for it.

“My baby looks eager to take me. Is that what you want?”

You think your broken mewl is sufficient for an answer, but Michael doesn’t agree. He tilts your chin down, thumb brushing against your lower lip to coax out a response.

“Y-Yes, I want it.”

You’re thankful Michael isn’t mean enough to have you repeat yourself a bit louder, your words followed by the first slow, shallow push.

He pulls out, to have you feel the loss for a cold second, and then pushes in deeper this time. The stretch burns, fills, overwhelms every inch of your body. It’s nothing like his fingers at all, embarrassed from the ounce of confidence you held a few minutes ago that you could handle what he carried.

He holds his own ragged breaths and groans to hear yours instead, to not miss out on any discomfort you might show. After each push, he’ll let you adjust around the length, then roll another inch of his cock.

His hips then flush to yours, the fullness hitting you like a punch to the lungs. Warm hands grab ahold of yours to remove them from your face, peppering kisses to the knuckles. “Don’t get shy on me, ma. Need you to watch how well you’re taking me.”

He doesn’t let go of your wrists, bringing them to rest against his chest. A helpless noise escapes you as you bring your eyes down, watching the way his cock disappears after every steady thrust. The quick brush of his pubic bone to your clit sends jolts through you, mouth falling open around a silent gasp at the added pleasure.

He moves with perfect control, cock sinking into you with dizzying precision. You feel your orgasm crawling up from behind, how sharper it feels than what you get given whenever you get needy all alone with your own hand between your legs.

His is right around the corner as well, another deep thrust, holding for just a second before pulling back again. You couldn’t stop the plea you spilled, body melting, hips continuing to snap forward to push you further, higher, closer.

“That’s it, let go f’ame. You’re doing so good—fuck— squeezing me so tight like you can’t get enough.”

You let your orgasm rip through you, breath hitching so sharply it feels like your lungs forgot how to work. It cuts through you like a blade, setting fire to everything inside of you. You let out a silent cry that catches in your throat, back arching as the tension finally snaps. He doesn’t miss the way you fall apart, the way your eyes flutter, the way your whole body clenches around him like it’s trying to keep him there forever.

Which what has him break, hips stuttering once, twice — and then he pulls out in one swift slide, bunching up your shirt to spill all over the expanse of your stomach.

You both share heavy breaths, pupils blown wide. He lets his forehead rest against yours, the world narrowing to the press of his body against yours, wishing this moment doesn’t have an end. You swipe a bead of sweat off the side of his jaw, now holding the side of his face like you can’t bear to be apart from him.

Before he could ask once again if you’re okay, your lips find his. You feel the slow, wet press of his tongue, head tilting to deepen the sensational kiss.