aaliyah.

Seventeen | Black | Tumblr Newbie | she/her | Jackson fanatic | Music Enthusiast | I write sometimes :)

Contents: 18+/ Smut/ Thriller Era/Black Female Reader/ Palming/ Slight Fingering (f receiving)/ Hickeys/p in v/ Semi-public sex/Mentions of Louie the Llama/ Multiple Orgasms/ Slight Overstim/ Creampie/ Squirting / Not Proofread /Use of “Doll” & “Baby”

Summary: You & Michael go for a picnic on a warm September evening.

a/n: a bit longer than I originally anticipated. Hopefully it’s enjoyable!!

It had been an abnormally warm September morning, but with the evening came a cooling air that hinted at summer's departure and fall's arrival. All day, Michael had been insisting that the two of you go out to the park for a picnic, insisting that the weather “wouldn’t get any better than this” and “this is the last chance we’re going to get until next summer.”

Michael had been so busy lately with the massive release of his smash hit thriller, which flew to the top of the charts and stayed there. Between promotional events and the filming of music videos-it felt like he hardly had time for you these days. He hated it, and so did you. So, when suggested, of course you’d headily agree to an afternoon spent lying in the grass under the suns embrace; devouring your favorite treats, while your boyfriend went on and on in detail about the most bizarre things.

Right now he was currently talking about his pet llama who’d been viciously attacked and murdered by his dogs.

“Then we got Louie. You know kids used to ride him? And he’d do tricks all day.”

He reached down, a grape between his slender fingers. “He’d do all sorts of tricks. All kinds.” He tossed the grape into his mouth.

You’d heard this story maybe a million times before.

“Kids sixty pounds and under used to ride him, right?” You finished for him.

Michael, who’d been mid sentence, stopped.

“Yes! How’d you..” he turned to face you, the sun hit his skin just right, his huge, brown bambi eyes turned hazel, just for a moment.

“Guess I’ve told this story a lot, huh?”

You laughed, dipping a strawberry in the homemade whipped cream-you’d mixed up just for this occasion-and held it out for him. He parted his lips and ate it with a sideways glance.

“Maybe. But that’s okay, I enjoy your stories. No matter how many times I’ve heard them.”

“Right. Mhm. That’s good baby. Can I get another?”

Without a second thought, you reached down into the brown basket filled with freshly picked strawberries, dipped it into the whipped cream and held it towards him.

“Say ahh,”

His lips parted, and he took one huge bite that left you with nothing but the green stem. You took it and tossed it somewhere in the dying field.

“Your turn.” He laughed, extending a whipped cream-covered strawberry in your direction.

You bent forward, taking a bite where you sucked the base of the fruit before biting the whole thing. Only then did you notice the cream sitting on his chin.

“You got a little something there.” You murmured softly, extending your hand with the intent of wiping his chin clean with your fingers. He leaned forward so you could have better access, which brought your faces inches apart. So close you could feel his breath on your lips. It tingled.

“You’re a good cook.” He chuckled, flinching ever-so slightly when you wiped the cream away, as if your touched burned him.

“It’s just whipped cream.”

“It’s the best whipped cream I’ve ever tasted.”

You laughed, but he didn’t. He was watching you with this burning intensity and indefinite seriousness. You couldn’t hold his eye.

Naturally, you broke contact and instead focused on a blade of grass that had found its way onto your checkered picnic blanket.

“I’ve missed you.” He breathed.

His murmur was accompanied by the tips of his fingers brushing your elbow. The action, though small in the most physical sense, sent butterflies straight to the pit of your stomach. It was suddenly much hotter than it had been a few minutes earlier.

“I’ve missed you too.” You responded, a surge of relief coursing through you. It felt good to get off your chest. “I’ve missed you so bad Mikey.”

A half smile played on his lips, his large hands finding purchase in the round of your cheek, bringing your lips to his. The moment his lips touched you melted in his arms; utterly and completely.

You held his face for a moment, then drifted lower until your hands were at his chest, undoing a few of his buttons so you could feel the warm skin underneath. He responded by biting your bottom lip, sucking on it with a fervent hunger.

His hands roamed too, and had slipped beneath the long, flowing white dress you’d worn. He was drawing circles along your thigh.

“I need you.” He whispered, pulling away from your lips with a pop.

His eyes were hooded; his lips swollen and wet. His curls in the very front had slipped from their assigned positions and fallen onto his forehead.

You nodded, hesitant to use your words. You didn’t trust your voice. Didn’t trust the tremble in your body.

You sat up, with the intention of packing up to go home.

He reached forward, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

“No.”

“No?”

He looked away for a moment, as if this were humiliating to say. “I can’t wait.”

You looked down, only now did it register. The large bulge straining against his jeans. You stayed there for a moment, before again finding his eyes.

“Here?” You breathed. The thought of doing it somewhere to open, so outside, so, public sent a dirty thrill through you.

“Nobodies around.”

You sunk down to your knees, with the Intention of being eye level with him, yet as you crawled towards him, you found that you were angled slightly over him.

You inched closer so that your lips were so close, so close it seemed as if you were going to kiss him.

“You are so dirty, Michael.” You whispered.

He groaned, throwing his head back so that it exposed his neck. You saw an opportunity to take what was yours, so, you took it.

You leaned forward, patting your lips, you dragged your tongue along his throat, leaving a trail a saliva in its wake. He shivered, his hips thrusting upwards involuntarily.

When you reached his Adam’s Apple, you planted a single kiss there, before trialing higher, finding the curve of his neck. Once there, gentle kisses drifted into something more like making out..with his neck. You were sucking his neck when he released a ragged breath, his hand gently nudging your shoulder. A silent stop it.

His teeth were clenched, and he was looking up at you with unfiltered desire.

“Please.” He finally mustered. “I need to feel you.”

Completely devouring your bottom lip as you laid flat on the blanket. Your hair spanned out around you, strands overflowing and catching in the grass.

You wanted this, you wanted him. Of course you did. It had been so long. Too long. But to say you were petrified was an understatement. The two of you had never done something like this. Sex somewhere so public. So, risky.

He clambered over you, using one of his knees to part your legs. His hands slid beneath your skirt. His fingers then curved in the waistband of your underwear, tugging on it gently. You shivered as the fabric slid down your leg. What emerged from beneath the dress were blue lacy underwear you’d put on in hopes of getting lucky. Though, you couldn’t have fathomed this.

You hissed as the cold air hit that spot between your legs. It was a stark contrast to the warmth that had been building up. Suddenly, he laid his hand over you, a single finger sliding through your sopping folds.

A crooked smile appeared. “You’re so wet.”

“It’s because of you.” You hissed as he continued dragging his fingers through you, but not really rubbing where you needed him to rub.

Two could play that game, and play that game you will. You reached forward, palming him through his jeans. He jerked forward, humping your palm as he leaned down to kiss you. It was wet and sloppy, and desperate.

“You feel that? You feel how much I’ve missed you?” He breathed.

You nodded, reaching for the zipper on his trousers. As you pulled it down you became aware of the fact that he hadn’t put underwear on. It turned you on so bad.

Finally, he removed his hand from your heat, and gently grabbed your waist, pulling you towards him. You were lying on the blanket, and he was over you. He used his free hand to hold himself at the base, guiding it towards your folds, you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his tip gently pushing inside you. Taking him was always a feat. He was so large.

“You okay baby?” He mumbled, falling down so that he was lying over you, his elbows now on either side of you.

“I’m okay Michael.” You grunted, adjusting slowly.

A few more moments passed before you nodding your head, grabbing onto his forearm as you braced yourself.

“Okay, Okay. I’m alright.”

He kissed your cheek before thrusting forward. Immediately you cried out. How was he already so deep? The sensation of him was overwhelming, him being inside you was overwhelming. Him simply being here, with you, was overwhelming.

You stayed entangled as he fucked you passionately, made love to you like he was making love for you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He murmured, using his thumb to brush away a stray tear you hadn’t even realized you shed.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked, slowing his movements.

“No! God no!” It was so humiliating. “You feel really good Michael. Really good.”

“Why are you crying?” He whispered, looking into your eyes.

“Because you feel so good. I’ve missed you so bad baby. I’ve missed this..”

He bent down, kissing your lips as he thrusted into you with at a faster speed than he’d been going before, but he was just as deep. Hitting that spot that sent shockwaves through your body again and again. Each pump of his cock sent your body rocking, so that you were in tandem with him.

Whenever you dared open your eyes, you were met with his beautiful browns meeting yours, his brows were contorted, his mouth was parting. Beautiful moans fleeing his lips. It was too much, all too much.

You closed your eyes as you felt that familiar knot tightening in your stomach, your legs began to tremble, your walls began to tighten. Micheal moaned, his head falling in the space between your shoulder and your neck.

“You’re so perfect.” He moaned, muffled. “I love you so much. I love your hair, and I love your body.”

You grunted, you were close, so close.

“I especially love this pussy, so wet, so tight. No matter how many times I fuck you.”

That was it. That was your undoing. The obscenity of it all, the looming threat of being caught, his voice, his dick pumping In and out of you, the sweat of his body.

You’re dug your nails into his shoulders, and your entire body shook, constricting around him over and over. You cried out louder than you meant too; a stream of jumbled up curses.

“Ff..uuu…shi…”

You wrapped your legs around him, searching in vain for something, anything, to ground you. He was still fucking you, fucking you through it, the same insistent pace.

When the orgasm began to ebb off, to say you were sensitive was an understatement, your walls fluttered, and your body trembled every drive of his hips.

“Michael..” You warned.

“Take it baby, I know you can.” He hadn’t lifted his head from where he’d buried it in your neck.

Suddenly, he began to pound into you with a force you hadn’t been expecting. You were trying to take it, you were, but it was so much.

Through everything there was still that beautiful pleasure every-time he bottomed out. You felt a knot in your stomach once again. You couldn’t be cumming again, were you?

You were.

The release hit you so intensely your entire body jerked upwards, forcing him deeper. You felt something snap inside you, then a cool liquid rushing from you, soaking his pants and the blanket beneath you.

Michael whimpered into your neck, it was evident that he was close now too. His moans were muffled by your neck, he’d been biting and sucking there and you hadn’t even realized. His thrusts were sloppy. He gave one last, weak thrust before his own orgasm hit him.

He pulled away from your neck as his moans and cries escaped into what had now become the night, his breath billowing in sexy puffs of white.

The sun had departed, and you hadn’t noticed.

The temperature had dropped, and you hadn’t noticed, the heat and sweat of your combined sex kept the two of you warm.

He grunted as he pulled away, hissing as the cold air hit him. You laid there for a moments longer. Watching the night sky, as you tried to pull yourself back together. You’d become a sexed-out mess. Your hair-which you’d previously pressed for this occasion-sweat out, your roots curled and thick once again. Your lipstick was smudged, it seemed Michael wore more on his own lips than you. Somehow the sleeve to your dress had fallen down, and one of your boobs had slipped free. Your nipple hardened by the cold air.

You mustered the strength to hoist yourself onto your elbows, surveying the mess you’d made. The mess the two of you had made.

Micheal had covered himself back up, though he was still trembling. He reached forward to fix your dress, and tried to the best of his ability to smooth out your hair.

“Did I…” your voice trailed.

“Yes you did.” He murmured, kissing your cheek before turning towards the food. In your fit of passion you hadn’t realized the destruction you’d caused to your little picnic.

“I can’t believe we did that.” You muttered. He cast a glance over his shoulder as he closed up the basket.

“Me neither.” He breathed, handing you the lacy blue panties you’d all but forgotten.

You took the underwear from his hands with a swiftness, and as you slid them back on, you were greeted with a deep soreness.

“I’m sorry about that..” He began, it looked as if he were spiraling. This happened a lot, Michael was so shy. During sex he’d become a whole different beast, just to return to that shell.

“Don’t apologize Michael. I liked it. Really.”

He sat there for a moments longer, then a small smile played on his lips.

“I’ve missed you, doll.”

“I missed you more.”

Contents: 18+/ Smut/No use of Y/N / Black female reader / Otw era /Use of ‘’mama’ /Fingering (f receiving)/ Unprotected p in v / Sub? reader/ Cream-pie / Shower sex / Orgasms /Established relationship/ Small amount of plot/ Not proofread! (I’m lazy)

Summary: After a long day at work, you come home anticipating a long awaited shower. Michael has other plans.

a/n: My first time writing a fic in a while, (first time writing one on tumblr period) let alone my first Michael fic! So hopefully this isn’t too bad. We shall improve with time!! xoxo

Although you were dating Michael Jackson, perhaps, even now, the most popular Jackson; you’d kept your job. Despite him insisting multiple times that he’d take care of you. You told him that you loved your job, and you were fine. That was a lie; you absolutely hated your job. Yet working there felt better than depending financially on him completely. It’d make you feel like you were using him; you weren’t, you truly loved him. So, you put up with it.

The entire day you wanted nothing more than to go home, get under the scorching hot showers warm embrace, as it soothed your muscles and washed away all the aggravation and exhaustion the endless days at that god forsaken office brought you. Only to climb into your sheets, cuddle with Michael, and drift to sleep.

“Are you ready, are you ready for this?” You sang, the lyric becoming a tune as you switched to humming. The water cascaded, drenching your hair; which caused your curls-previously stretched out- to scrunch up and shrink as it soaked in the water.

Micheal had always teased you about your adoration for water that was borderline painful. He didn’t seem to understand it. Neither had you, it was just, soothing.

You were lost in that thought, swaying absentmindedly to the music you’d been humming when you heard a soft knock on the door. The sound immediately made your stomach twist up. He just had that effect on you, no matter how long it’d been.

“Can I come in?” The soft lilt of his voice made your heart flip. You’d been together over a year now, and he’d seen you naked plenty of times-yet he was still respectful (or shy) enough to ask.

“Of course you can, Mikey.” You responded, returning to humming the tune that had been playing in your mind, loooping over and over again.

You heard the door open and close with one swift motion, and you could just see his silhouette through the curtain, he was grabbing something off the sink.

“Left your cologne again?” You asked, absentmindedly, grabbing the soap.

“Yeah. Is that ‘In the Bush’ you hummin’ there?”

By Musique.

You giggled softly, “yeah I guess it is. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. I’m not sure how you guessed what song I was humming.”

You heard him snicker. “I almost didn’t, you sound nothin like it.”

He paused for a moment, like he was considering his next words carefully. “All outa tune…”

You made a sound of mock offense before reaching for your rag, opening the curtain, his eyes widened; his lips parting ever so slightly before you launched the sopping rag in his direction. It slapped against his face with a squelch before flopping onto the ground.

He stood there for a moment, shocked. His eyes flickered from the rag, your face, your breasts, then back down to the rag again. You thought he might have been upset. You thought that until that maddening grin spread across his face, revealing his perfect white teeth, releasing and a breathy laugh that undid you every time.

“You’re ridiculous,” he laughed and you laughed with him, they two of you filled the bathroom for a few moments. It seemed like you were desperate for something to distract you from the very evident and growing tension.

“Can you pass me my rag though? I kind of need that.”

He bit his bottom lip, reached down as he scooped it off the ground effortlessly. You felt a pit opening up in your stomach, a heat growing in your lower abdomen. You just couldn’t tear your gaze from his large hands god, you loved those hands so much. Then you couldn’t tear your gaze from his hips, from the growing and blatant evidence of his arousal.

“I’m not sure why you even threw it.” He joked, or rather he tried too. It came out much too breathy, much too stiff, devoid of all the carelessness he carried only a few minutes ago.

He walked up to the shower slowly, extending his hand to hand you the rag. Your fingers brushed his skin softly as you took it from his hand. Okay, you have the rag. Finish your shower. You just couldn’t bring your body to move, couldn’t bring yourself to retreat behind the curtain and into the water. So instead you stood there f, hair dripping, your nipples hardening against the cold air; a contrast to the hot shower. His eyes hooded. You knew that look. You knew that look all too well. The sight of it made you melt.

“Can I get in?” He asked quietly. “Fore’ you use up all the hot water.”

“Just a shower. Nothing else.”

He raised an eyebrow. As if he were silently asking why?Especially when you knew-he-knew exactly what you wanted.

“I haven’t shaved,” you explained, partly embarrassed you’d answered a question he hadn’t even asked; not verbally. A wide smile spread across his face as he began to remove his pants you sighed indignantly. He knew you so well, so well it could be annoying sometimes. He was naked in what seemed like seconds, his dick was halfway hard, it bounced as he wiggled out of his shirt.

“Michael…”

“Ain’t nothin wrong with a little bush,” he interrupted, climbing into the shower behind you. All the air escaped your chest,

impossible to pull back in.

He leaned down, so his breath tickled your ear, the water that had fallen into his hair fell down onto you, your mouth parted ever so slightly as he spoke.

“Brothers like that,” he smiled, pulling away as he rinsed off the rag, adding soap before curling his finger In a “come here” motion.

“C’mere mama. Lemme help you clean off.” Mindlessly, you obeyed and walked towards him. He looked stunning. His curls were tight, the water falling down his face and onto his chest. He was biting his bottom lip in that way that drove you absolutely insane. His skin was a beautiful rich brown that seemed to glisten in the water. You chest ached as you faced him. How was it possible for a man to be this beautiful? For a man this beautiful to desire and love you?

He wrapped his hands around your hips, kissing your cheek as he began to spread the soap across your body in suggestive circular motions. You wanted nothing more than to close your eyes, to relax and forget about your every worry. To lean into this, into him; but you couldn’t, there was something-or even-someone, who made it increasingly impossible.

His dick, which had been half-mast the last time you dared to look at it-was now completely hard. He was leaking pre-cum from his tip. That alone was an entrancing sight. You couldn’t look away. As much as you tried to keep your eyes locked on his eyes, yours kept betraying you and flickering down. He smirked, looking down with you. He looked almost bashful, yet amused.

“Don’t worry about that right now.” He said softly. “Turn around let me clean ‘ya.”

How couldn’t you worry about that? With a burning glare of protest, you turned around and allowed him to continue his maddening journey “washing” your skin. If it could even be called that. Michael was instead, massaging the soap into your skin. When his hands trailed down to your ass, he continued those circular motions, before squeezing softly and drifting away. He did that a few more times before you got fed up. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and how to do it.

“Michael,” you began to protest.

“Mmt. You said ‘just a shower. Nothing else.” He was such a tease. And he knew it. Something about that angered you and turned you on at the same time.

“Michael don’t be like that,”

“Like what?” He asked, his body now pressed flushed against yours, a deep trembling sigh escaped him as his cock made contact with your skin. “I’m only doing what you asked mama.” He murmured into your skin as he planted kisses along the nape of your neck, then your chin.

It was clear what he was trying to communicate. It didn’t need saying. You knew him well enough.

Ask for it. Beg for it. Say you want it.

Your pride usually wouldn’t allow this, but that need pulsating arousal was building deep inside of you, and it was becoming unbearable. He thrusted against you once, his large cock brushing against you. He grunted, suppressing a moan. You loved that about him, you loved how vocal he was. His free hand fell drifted between your legs cupping your vagina, his fingers slipping to your bean, rubbing you, he knew exactly how to make you come apart. You hissed, and a satisfied hum escaped him.

He continued exploring the heat there, eventually drifting away from your bean.

“Michael please.” You whispered.

“What was that?” He slipped a finger into you, and you hissed. He hadn’t stopped kissing your neck, “Mhm. You’re so tight, I don’t know how you ever take me.” That sent a fresh wave of arousal over you.

You bit your lip so hard you thought you might draw blood. “Cut it out,” you spat attempting to sound firm, to sound angry. Instead you sounded desperate, pathetic. You moaned, head falling against the tile as he slipped another finger in. Mimicking a scooping motion that rubbed against your gummy walls and sent ripples of pleasure through you. But it wasn’t enough. it wasn’t enough.

“Michael please I need you inside of me.” He leaned forward, nibbling on your ear, sucking on your lobe before pulling back ever so slightly so he could speak directly into your ear. “But I am inside of you baby,” he muttered. Fuck. He was being such a tease, so cruel. You could have cried right then and there.

“Michael stop it. You know what I want.”

“You have to tell me.” He squeezed a third finger in and you groaned. “Tell me.”

“Michael I need your dick in me right now. I need you to fill me up, to make this ache go away like only you can,” He kept fingering you. “I want you to fuck me Michael. Please don’t make me keep begging.”

A low moan escaped his lips, he was clearly turned on beyond clear thinking, just as you were. He pulled back, his fingers slipping out of you; and you hissed at the lack on contact.

Just as he pulled his finger out, he brought them to his mouth, slipping the two digits that had just been inside you, fingering you, exploring you, making you feel good, into his mouth. He sucked them until they were clean, and sucked more as if it weren’t enough. Like he could never get enough. It was so sexy, it was so erotic, it was so overwhelming.

“Oh my god Michael.”

“Needed to taste you,” he whispered. You grunted and reached for his neck, wrapping your hand around it as you pulled him in for a deep kiss, a kiss where your tongues intertwined, danced and tangled together, a kiss that was like a secret communication of its own. Your hand slid down to where his dick was pressed against you, and you began to palm him, you swallowed his moans.

Michael eventually pulled back, taking deep, shaky breaths. bit his lip, his forehead falling and resting on yours for a few more moments.

“Turn around.” he murmured, and you did.

You turned around, your vision blurry from the water, you heart racing, your pussy aching. Your hands found the walls of the shower; the front of your body leaned forward, your back arched ever so slightly. Michael came up behind you breathing heavily, his dick in his hands. Once he brought it close to your heat, he slid his tip along your folds.

“Stop teasing,” you grunted. You were crying now, you needed him so badly, it was humiliating. Luckily, he couldn’t tell apart your tears from the water. You’d never been so grateful to be in the shower.

He hummed softly, fisting himself as he prepared. “Alright, Alright.” He was right there. right there.

“You ready?” You nodded frantically. “Yes!” Your voice louder and more aggressive than you’d intended. You were normally headstrong, you were normally the one in control; but Michael rid of that. He broke down your resolve and made you come apart. He morphed you into this moaning begging mess for him.

Then, finally, finally he slid in. Every inch of him that slid in brought a new wave of pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and your lips were parted. He was so huge, no matter how many the times of you did this, your body could never seem to fully get used to his size. The slightly painful part would be over soon. Adjusting always took time. You both let out strangled gasps when he bottomed out.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Michael you’re so huge.”

“You okay?”

“Yes! Move! More, Michael please I need it.”

A strangled gasp escaped his lips as he gently placed one of his large hands on the small of your back, he began to thrust forward. His movements were deep and beautiful and desperate. The feeling of him filling you so fully, pleasuring you and making you feel so, so good; while simultaneously pleasing himself-was a feeling you couldn’t even begin to describe. It was so overwhelming. With nowhere else to rest your head, you pressed your head against the walls of the shower, a string of nonsensical words that mushed up into sexual sounds escaped your lips.

“You’re so tight. How are you still so tight?” He whined. It was a genuine question. The two of you, well you were young and in love. Sex was sometimes a thing that happened multiple times a day. Yet, you could never seem to fully adjust to him. It turned you on more than you dared to admit.

“How’s it feel mama?” He asked, his voice wavering, as if it were difficult for him to speak. “Do I feel good inside of you?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. This, this is what you needed all day. Not sleep, not a hot shower. This, him, deep inside of you, him whispering your name as he hit that spot inside of you over, and over again.

Suddenly, your eyes shot open and You reached around to grab his wrist, “More Micheal,”

His forehead fell against your neck, his moans mingling with yours. “More?” He Grunted. “I don’t wanna hurt you mama, I’m already giving you so much,” he kissed your neck, the water falling between the two of you, soaking you. As if you weren’t wet enough.

“I can take it Mike, I can take you,” He continued that pace for a moments longer, as if he were considering your request. Eventually, He sat up so he could fuck you harder, so he could fuck you deeper. So he could honor your request. He loved to honor his lady. His movements picked up and his hips bucked into you at a rapid pace, the sound of his wet skin slapping against your wet skin almost as loud as your shameless cries, moans, groans and grunts of pleasure.

“God, I love you mama. I love you so much. I’m already close,”

You shook your head. Not yet, not yet. You needed more. You needed him inside of you as long as humanly possible. “God…not yet Michael please. Let me cum first,” He groaned; physically fighting his release. His hand left your hip, finding a firm purchase on the back of your neck, holding on as if you were the only thing grounding him; you probably were, if he weren’t holding on, he might have slipped and fallen onto the shower floor.

He drove his hips into fervently, and you felt every beautiful, thick inch of him. You felt his tip rubbing against your g spot again and again, your lower abdomen tightened.

Suddenly, something deep in your core snapped. Your walls squeezed tight, so tight it almost hurt, and your legs began to tremble.

“Oh god, are you cumming?” He cried.

“Yes! Fuck! I’m right there baby, I’m right there!”

He began to pound into you, your head thumped softly against the wall over and over.

“Don’t curse mama you know I don’t like when you curse.”

That of all things, sent you right over the edge. Your walls squeezed around him tightening and constricting then releasing over and over again. The pleasure rolled through you in overwhelming shockwaves. Your entire body shook, your mind was blank, you were in a beautiful, intense daze. The only thing that broke you out of it, was Micheal’s sloppy thrusts, he was fucking you through your orgasm. His balls tensed up against you, his head fell back, his eyes squeezed tight, his face contorted as if it were painful.

“I’m cumming mama, I’m cumming,” he whined, his hips jerking forward as rope after rope of his seed filling you. You stood there for a moment; the two of you intertwined in the most intimate, beautiful way. Eventually, both your breathing and heart rate slowed, and he slipped out, as well as droplets of his sperm. It slipped out and dribbled onto your bush. You hissed half at the sensitivity, half at the loss of contact, it always felt empty when he pulled out of you.

Eventually, you moved off the shower wall, just to weakly rest your back against it anyway. You stood so that you were facing him. His eyes were hooded, and he wore that small smirk on his lips. He bent down to kiss you.

“I guess I have to wash you again huh?” He asked cheekily, motioning towards the mess he’d made. You shook your head, snickering.

“I love you,” he mumbled, leaning down to kiss you.

“I love you more.”

Donna Summer Circa 1976 (American Bandstand)