°˖➴ 𝓢𝓣𝓐𝓡𝓡 ˚☽˚.⋆

Michael was absolutely buzzing with excitement today. This evening, he’d be sleeping over at his girlfriend’s house for the very first time. The best part? The two of you would be completely alone.

He honestly didn’t know why he was so excited about the alone aspect of it all, though. It’s not like he was brave enough to do anything more than hold your hand.

The two of you had fooled around before, you mostly taking charge, but his brain got so fuzzy around you. Any sense of self or right and wrong would go out the window as soon as he smelled your honey glaze scented lipgloss.

He’d spent the day driving around and shopping with his brother Jermaine, making sure to pick up things you’d mentioned liking the last time the two of you browsed through retail catalogues. The fuzzy white comforter you imagined sprawled at the end of your bed, the cute pajama set he couldn’t wait to see you in, and the stunning golden charm bracelet from your favorite jewelry store, were all carefully strewn across Jermaine’s backseat, a cute enveloped note written to accompany them sitting on top of the pile.

“Mike, this girl’s got you whipped! You droppin’ 3 thousand on a lil’ bracelet?” Jermaine asked with an incredulous laugh after the two settled into his car, driving along the Santa Monica Pier.

“Maine, she’s not just some girl. She’s the love of my life,” he said with a wistful sigh. “Besides, 3 thousand is nothin’. I’d hang the moon and stars for her,” Michael responded earnestly. He’d do a lot for you for no reward at all; just the thought that it was something that convenienced you even a fraction was enough.

“See, this exactly what I mean. Doin’ all that for her and you haven’t even laid down with the girl yet.” The older brother laughed at Michael’s ‘yes man’ attitude toward you, finding the idea of his superstar brother being a total worm for you hilarious.

“We’ve done plenty!” he defended, not enjoying the idea of his older brother seeing him as less experienced for what he’d allowed himself to explore regarding his sex life.

“Like what?” Jermaine questioned, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

“It doesn’t matter! And I don’t see relationships as transactional anyway. The fact that she even likes me is enough.”

A beat of silence settled over the car as Jermaine drove away from the boardwalk, pulling up the car’s hood as they approached a crowd of teenaged girls dancing to one of their older songs, not wanting to be recognized.

When they finally hit the freeway, Michael spoke.

“What do you do?”

“Whatchu mean?” Jermaine pressed.

“Like, how do you…start? Making love, I mean.” Michael cleared his throat.

“We’ve done stuff before, I wasn’t lyin’ about that. But we haven’t gone all the way. She makes me too nervous, ‘n I’m scared of…I don’t want it to end so fast,” he rambled on, realizing Jermaine wasn’t going to interrupt him and was actually giving this some thought.

“You gotta just let it happen, man. I mean, I usually lay the girl down ‘n start kissin’ up on her, but I don’t see you bein’ the type to…” he trailed off in thought. “Just build up tension. Start givin’ her the eyes, ya know? She’ll get the hint.”

“The eyes? Maine, I can barely get close to her in the moment without goin’ dumb.” Michael wiped his hand across his face, trying to cool himself down before he started blushing.

“Here, how’s this?” Jermaine exited the freeway and began demonstrating what he meant at the red light.

“Take your hand, place it on her shoulder like this, look her up ‘n down from her lips to her eyes, and give her a lil’ smirk. She’ll know.” He accelerated on the gas pedal as the light turned green.

“O-okay. Yeah that seems easy enough,” Michael responded shyly.

“Don’t bring this up to anyone else, Maine. I’ll kill you,” he added, realizing how vulnerable he’d gotten. He’d never hear the end of it from Marlon if this got out.

At exactly half past 5, Michael was ringing at your doorbell, your gifts and his belongings in tow. He told Bill he was spending two nights at your place, reminding him not to be seen by your neighbors during his patrols, and basically flew to your doorstep.

You opened it almost immediately, seeming just about as excited as he was, and plastered your lips onto his in an intimate kiss- too intimate for your front door.

“Hi, my pretty boy. Let’s get you inside, yeah?” you greeted him, noticing the way he flustered up at the nickname.

“Yeah…” he said with a ditzy grin across his face.

“O-oh! I got you these gifts!” he announced with pride. He was carrying them and all of his belongings for the sleepover in one hand, determined to not let you help him carry anything.

You pushed the door wide for him to come in, knowing better than to offer to help him. He seemed to be moving without thinking, just taking steps by pure instinct. As he neared the staircase leading to the upstairs bedrooms, you could see the defeat dawn across his face.

“C’mon, baby. Lemme at least just carry one bag. I’m a big girl.” You took his duffel bag, presumably with his belongings, and led the way, not giving him a second to stop you.

He sighed dramatically and trailed up the steps behind you, his fingers that were straining under the heavier duffel bag feeling relief from the absence of its weight.

As you pushed into your bedroom, the scent of fresh linen and cinnamon wafted into his nostrils, a sudden comfort settling into his bones at the now familiar scent. You shrugged your robe off your shoulders, and Michael realized you were already in your pajamas. He took his duffel bag from your hands, sat down his belongings, and handed you your first gift.

“I’m realizin’ it’s probably too late for this now, but here! I have a feeling you’ll love ‘em.” He was practically vibrating in anticipation.

“I can’t believe you brought me gifts, Mikey. You’re so thoughtful.” You gave him a quick peck and opened the gift box. Inside sat the pj set you fawned over with Michael 2 weeks ago at your kitchen table. It was a red and white gingham two piece set with strawberry pockets on the butt of the mini shorts. The top was a lace-trimmed camisole that stopped just above your hipbone and was see through around the flowy skirt of it. And it was perfect.

“Oh, Michael! I’m putting this on immediately, are you kidding? This is perfect! Thank you so much.” You grabbed him with both hands by the face and littered his burning cheeks in kisses.

“It was nothin’. Here, open the others!” He was eating up your reactions. You jumped up and down at the blanket and tried to pick him up and spin him once you saw the bracelet.

“Hey, let go!” he’d declared in protest with a surprised chuckle at your strength.

“Put it on me, baby,” you told him, breathless, as you let go of his torso.

With a shy smile, he followed your demand mindlessly.

“Do you like it?” he asked, knowing you did. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“I adore it. The first charm I’m gonna buy will be a little ‘M’ just for you. Wouldn’t that be so cute?” you asked him, twisting your wrist around in the warm lighting of your bedroom.

“You’d do that?” he asked you, genuinely surprised by the act of possession.

“Of course! I’d tattoo your name across my chest,” you responded with a quick kiss to his lips as you made your way to your restroom with your new pajama set in hand.

The idea of you tattooing his name on you filled him with a sickening amount of pride.

You stepped back into the room almost as quickly as you left it, and you looked unreal. The cups in the top held your breasts up in just the right way, and the sheer, flowy bottom of it put your torso on full display for him. The shorts were no better. You gave him a twirl, and when his eyes met your backside, he nearly fell at your feet. Your strawberry-adorned ass was sitting prettily in the fabric, the bottom of your soft cheeks on full display for his greedy eyes. You turned back around and sauntered over to him.

“You look perfect,” he complimented you with a dumb smile.

“Hmm, do I?” you teased him as you unzipped his jacket for him.

“Yes, perfect…” he said, losing his train of thought as his eyes fell to the barely-there neckline of your top. He absentmindedly let you pull the jacket off, completely distracted by the view in front of him.

“Get comfortable, baby. I’m gonna go get us popcorn and oj. Then I’ll pick a movie. How’s that sound?” you asked him, knowing he was barely even paying attention.

“Hmm? Yeah, sounds great…” he responded, not able to find more words.

“Michael. Shower. Now.” You turned on your heel and walked with an extra bounce in your step, purposely doing so to make your ass move a bit more as you stepped. He drank it all up and unpacked his stuff in a daze.

He realized he forgot to bring his own body soap, and reveled in the idea of using yours. He couldn’t wait to smell like his girl. It was all he thought about during the 15-minute shower as he lathered up, scrubbed his body, and rinsed off. He brought his own lotion and toothpaste, disgruntled by the idea that he had no excuse to use yours. After he finished moisturizing, he left the room with a small smile, and placed his clothes into your hamper.

He saw you sitting comfortably on the soft carpet at the foot of your bed, your robe on your shoulders and a deck of cards sat in front of you alongside your snacks. You’d brought 2 big slices of homemade pizza, a bottle of tobasco, wet wipes for your hands, and two water bottles, alongside the share-size bowl of popcorn and two glasses of orange juice you’d mentioned. Bambi was in your VCR displaying the main menu, waiting to be played.

He approached you quietly while holding his breath, his mind going crazy at the sight of your legs crossed in front of you. They were making him nervous. He loved your legs.

You looked up at him and a cocky smile spread across your lips.

“You found a matchin’ shirt, huh?” you pressed your index finger to his torso as he sank down next to you, finding the idea of him searching for something to go with your sleep set cute.

“Oh…Yeah, is the matchin’ too much? I just wanted to…” he trailed off, unable to find any excuse that didn’t expose his intentions.

“I love it, baby. We look cute together.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on his jaw. A shiver ran down his spine.

“Eat. I just got this out of the oven, so it should still be hot.” You picked up his plate of pizza and handed it to him, watching with a devious glint in your eye as he obeyed your command. He said a quick prayer, blew the slice, and took a hearty bite while looking deep into your eyes.

“Thank you so much. It’s really good,” he said earnestly, covering his food-filled mouth as he spoke.

“Thank you. Now eat up. I’m gonna start the movie and we can play cards while we watch, when we’re done with the pizza.”

You did just as you said and so did he, eagerly at that. You’d think he didn’t have a brain for his own with the way he just did whatever you told him to. He was wrapped tightly around your pinky finger, just how you liked him.

After you beat him for the fourth time at Go Fish, the movie long having ended, you had him help you bring down your empty dishes and soiled wet wipes downstairs to clean and get rid of.

“I have a game I wanna play,” you stated casually as you handed him the soapy pizza pan you just washed. He rinsed and dried it immediately.

“What is it?” he asked with a little too much enthusiasm. He would do anything if it meant being in your presence.

“It’s…not really an official game. Just somethin’ I sorta made up. You’re gonna like it though.” You said the last sentence as an order, not an assumption. His stomach turned with excitement at the sternness in your voice. “Finish rinsing and drying these and I’ll go brush my teeth ‘n set it up for us. You also brush your teeth when you’re done.”

You left him to the task and hurried up the stairs. You were much more excited than you were letting on tonight. You’d went on a little shopping trip yourself, earlier, spending spent the day at different makeup and department stores meticulously picking out an assortment of flavored lipglosses and chapsticks. You wanted to try them all on and have Michael guess what each flavor was after kissing you. The thought came to you after a particularly vivid dream of him begging you to wear your honey glaze scented gloss while you fucked. You decided you wanted him to be like that after any scent he ever smelled from there on out.

After brushing your teeth, you took off your robe and then laid all of the lip products evenly on your fluffy carpet, and placed your black eye mask beside them, waiting patiently for your boyfriend to leap up the stairs.

As he made it inside your room from your bathroom, having entered it from the hallway, he took in your position and the random scene in front of you, lifting an eyebrow.

“What kinda game is this?” he asked, sounding almost frightened.

“It’s a chapstick challenge. I put on a layer of one of the glosses or lip balms, and you guess the flavors by french kissing me,” you responded with a dazzling smile.

“K-kiss…Okay.” He was already losing it by the mere idea of the game. “And I wear the blindfold?” he inquired.

“Yep. No peeking, understand?” you said, faux seriousness laced into your voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, only half jokingly with the honorific, with his left hand to his temple in a fake salute.

You placed the blindfold over his thick afro, leaving it up just above the eyes, before giving him a kiss. You pulled away and bit your lip at the dazed look on Michael’s face.

You got up- slightly bouncing your ass again- to turn on the record player sitting on your bedside dresser, and adjusted the volume to a comfortable background hum, setting the ambience.

You plopped back down in front of him, and he looked at you hungrily, licking his lips and trying to ignore the lust growing in his abdomen.

“Can I know the flavors, please? Or am I going into this blind?” he inquired.

“We’ll do 7. They’re pretty easy to guess, so I’m making you go in blind. You’re fine with that though, aren’t you baby? You’ll be the best guesser ‘cuz you’re just so smart, right?” you cooed at him, knowing the way you spoke to him would get him to move a mountain for you if you told him to.

“Y-yeah I’m…It’ll be easy.” Bingo.

You pulled the mask over his eyes and opened the first chapstick, the pop of the lid unsealing catching his surprise since his non visual senses were heightened. Cherry. Easy. You applied a generous layer and rubbed your lips together as you inched toward his face.

You pressed your lips to his harshly and he got to work immediately. His tongue explored your lips much longer than it should’ve. This was one of the easiest flavors to guess, by far. He was being greedy. You pulled away with a pop, smirking at his neediness.

“Ch-cherry?” he asked, like it wasn’t obvious.

“You sure you don’t wanna search some more? That was one of the easiest. You could’ve been more sly about it,” you said teasingly.

“‘M s-sorry. I just love your lips…” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“I’m just teasin’. Of course it was cherry. One point to you! Good job, Mikey.” His lip twitched at the praise.

Peach was next. It wasn’t too hard, but the scent threw off the flavor; it smelled like mango. That was the exact reason you chose it. The ambiguity left room for more.

You repeated your earlier ministrations of application, and kissed him again, this time scooting a little closer to his body. You even cupped his jaw with your hand, eliciting such a soft whine, you were almost convinced you misheard it.

The kiss was longer this time, but purposely. You even took the opportunity to pull at his hair the tiniest bit, smiling against his lips as he made a surprised sound at the back of his throat. He pulled away this time, out of breath.

“That one stumped me. It smells way different than it tastes. I’m gonna guess somethin’ fruity…Peach?” he guessed.

“You got it!” you responded, genuinely surprised. “That one was one of the hardest ones. Didn’t it smell like mango?”

“Yes, that’s what that smell was! It confused me bad.” He chuckled softly, as he reached his hand out toward you, searching for your waist. You reached out to his hand and guided it to where he wanted it, biting your lip at the contact.

This flavor was watermelon. You applied the sticky balm to your lips and smacked them loudly, warning him of your impact this time. He met your lips with ease and immediately got to sucking and licking. His free hand cupped the back of your neck and he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. He moaned when your wet muscle met his, then pulled back, chest heaving.

“Just been waitin’ to do that. I know it was watermelon,” he announced proudly.

“Someone’s gettin’ a lil antsy, huh?” you responded, trying to conceal your bated breath. His lips faltered at the teasing, trying and failing to find an excuse.

“It’s okay, baby. I like when you get desperate.” He bit his lip and covered his face with his hands.

You reached for the next lip balm, this one being cinnamon flavored. He loved cinnamon, which was the reason you bought it. You lathered it on and pulled his hands away from his cheeks, meeting his lips once more. You decided to turn it up a notch by placing his hands right under your breasts and sliding a hand onto his chest, feeling his heart hammering pathetically under your touch, and throwing one of your legs over his. He gasped slightly and pulled you closer, his fingers holding you with a firm grip.

You led the kiss this time, almost forgetting you were playing a ‘game.’ You bit his lip and sucked his tongue just enough to make him squirm, and pulled away.

“What flavor?” you asked him smugly, staring at the slight sheen of lipgloss scattered about his chin and mouth. He didn’t respond, mouth still slightly hanging open with a dazed grin.

“What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue?” you continued teasing.

“No, I…You make me forget things,” he admitted sheepishly.

Scratching his neck while keeping one of his hands on your body, he continued.

“Well, I definitely know that was cinnamon. That’s my guess.”

“I knew you’d get that one. I thought of you specifically when I bought it,” you admitted. You poked his nose and absentmindedly applied the next gloss. It was one you already owned and the two of you absolutely adored. Honey glaze.

You smacked your lips one more, letting yourself taste the flavor as you did so, and settled yourself fully on top of his lap now. You felt how hard he was and ground against him languidly once. He whimpered at the contact immediately.

“Aww, my baby’s getting this turned on just from kissing? What am I gonna do with you?” you cooed at him, your breath fanning over his lips. His dick jumped immediately.

“Oh. You’re wearing my favorite…honey glaze.” His knowledge surprised you.

“You peeked, didn’t you?” you questioned him suspiciously.

“N-no! I just…I love the smell of this one. I can recognize it anywhere. Please kiss me,” he whined.

You leaned in at the kiss turned sloppy immediately.

He gripped your waist hungrily with both of his hands, and rocked up into your crotch desperately. You moaned against his tongue as he licked your mouth inside and out, drool sliding down your cheek.

The both of you got incredibly lost in the moment, allowing your need for each other to bubble up sporadically. You ground harshly against his erection and sucked his neck, leaving a bruise in its wake. He moaned once really loudly, and his hips jerked against yours. Then, his hands flew from your waist and ripped the blindfold off of his face.

“‘M sorry. I need to use the restroom,” he quickly mumbled out. He gently slid from underneath you, then made a beeline for your bathroom door.

“Mich-” you called after him breathlessly as the door shut.

“Damnit,” he mumbled as he pulled down his pants. His cum sat proudly against the fabric of his boxers, much to his annoyance. He grabbed a wet wipe and cleaned his crotch wildly, the cold wetness making him shiver. He couldn’t believe he let himself go like that. Sliding his underwear off, he internally cursed himself for being so embarrassing. He washed his hands and entered the room again, his head hanging low and his underwear balled into his fist. He put it inside your hamper and then sat on the edge of your bed without a word, avoiding your gaze.

You knew exactly what happened, and it made you cocky.

“Mikey, baby. I know you came your pants,” you announced crudely. You sat down next to him with a wicked smile tugging at your lips.

“It’s embarrassing. We didn’t even do anything…” He sniffed in shame.

“Baby, it’s flattering. I’m glad to know that you get that horny for me,” you replied. You gripped his jaw, forcing him to look you in the eye.

“It’s not…Well, yes. I do get…aroused by you. But it’s your lipgloss. The smell…It makes my brain numb,” he admitted.

You removed your hand and bent over right in front of him to pick up the honey glaze scented gloss from the carpet, purposely nudging your butt against his knee as you reached down. You turned back around and waved it in his face tauntingly.

“This lipgloss? My favorite one?” You opened it and applied another layer. Setting it down on the bed, you placed your hands on either side of his legs and inched toward his face.

“The smell turns you on?” you ask, letting the scent waft around his personal space. He whimpered loudly.

“Yes,” he spat out, shoving down a heavy gulp. He could already feel himself getting hard again, and his eyes trailed down your torso, straight to the curve of your breasts, which were more visible due to you being bent over.

“You checkin’ me out?” you asked him mockingly.

His eyes snapped to your face as if he got caught doing something wrong. You sat back down next to him and stared at his bottom lip, which was being cradled between his teeth.

The way you were looking at him, like you were a predator hunting its prey, made Michael’s heart hammer so loudly against his chest that he swore you could hear it.

Then, a voice echoed in his head.

Start givin’ her the eyes…Take your hand, place it on her shoulder…look her up ‘n down…

He followed each direction as it played in his mind, his sudden confidence faltering your own in its track. Then, he gave you the sexiest smirk you’d ever seen.

…Give her a lil’ smirk. She’ll know.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” you asked him straightforwardly. He flinched a bit at how direct your words were.

“Yes,” he sighed. “B-but only if you wanna! I don’t…It has to be your choice.” What he really wanted to say was that he wanted you to use his body like he only existed for your pleasure.

“Then fuck me, Michael. Rip my clothes off and plow me into my sheets.” You slid your thumb across his bottom lip and tugged it down. He stared at you like a deer in headlights.

“You gonna touch me, or what?” you asked, cocking your head to the side in fake confusion. You knew your words were scrambling his brain, and you loved it.

“Y- sorry. Um.” He fumbled with his hands, not knowing where to touch you or place them. He felt like an idiot. You’ve engaged in sexual acts before, but he felt out of his league now, the looming state of his virginity making everything much more serious.

“Go get a condom from my dresser. Top drawer,” you ordered him. He obeyed and picked a small foil wrapper from the unopened Trojan box. He secretly thanked God at the sight, realizing you hadn’t recently been using them with anyone else, although he already knew that.

He held the foreign object in his hand and stood between your parted legs.

“C’mere,” you said before pulling him down by his neck and making out with him like you hadn’t been allowed to for a century.

He cautiously explored your body with his large hands, continuing certain gropes and squeezes when you gave him louder whines.

His body was now hovering yours, propped up by his forearms, and you could feel his heavy dick slap against your crotch through his pants as he went to kiss tenderly on your neck.

“I’m not wearing any underwear either. Wanna feel how wet I am for you?” you asked him lewdly.

“Please,” he begged, letting you take his hand and place it square on top of your clothed pussy.

He could feel you pounding beneath his palm, and he felt that familiar slimy substance connecting his hand to your core. He rubbed two of his fingers into you a bit, collecting some of your arousal. Detaching his mouth from your neck, he looked down at you with a dazed expression. With his free hand, he gently gripped your face, making you look at him.

Without a word, he removed his hand from your sex and sniffed his fingers greedily. He bucked his hips into yours, and shoved those fingers into his mouth with a loud groan.

You were in awe.

“I had no idea you were this filthy. Thought you were a good boy, but I guess you’re way dirtier than I thought,” you told him with surprise etched into every word. Your statement only made him needier. He shoved his fingers farther into his mouth and pulled them out, searching for your cunt again.

“Please, let me take these off. Wanna feel you,” he begged, a mixture of drool and your arousal collecting at the corner of his parted lips.

“Go ahead baby. Show me how much you want me.”

With a whimper, he crawled down your body and landed on his knees with effortless agility. He hooked his fingers into the top of your pajama shorts and froze.

“I-i’m a virgin,” he stated, voice barely above a whisper.

“Michael, I know. We’ve talked about this plenty of times,” you responded patiently. You knew he was nervous, but you also knew he wanted this.

“I know, it’s just that…I’m not gonna know how to do everything. I don’t wanna embarrass myself,” he replied meekly.

“Baby…I know you think I’m some sex god, but I’m still a virgin too.” You sat up and looked down at him, forcing him to meet your intense gaze. He looked stunned.

“It’s okay if you’re not. You don’t needa lie to me to make me feel bet-” You interrupted him by clamping your hand over his mouth.

“Michael, I’m not lying. When I told you before we ever did anything sexual that I had experience, that wasn’t a lie either. I’ve just never trusted anyone to go all the way. But I trust you and I want this with you. Don’t you wanna give it to me?” you asked him with a faux-sad pout.

“Of course! I wanna be your first…I want you to be mine. And my last. I wanna give my soul to you,” he rambled, inching your shorts down your thighs as he leaned in closer.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me..” he spoke quietly, mostly to himself, drifting off once he unclothed your lower body. He threw the damp shorts onto the floor and looked up at you with so much gratitude that it made your heart swell.

“Taste me,” you said, as you watched him lick his lips like he was starving.

He placed your thighs atop his shoulder and delved in, immediately grinding against nothing at the scent of your pussy.

“Mmm, th-that’s right. Just how I taught you before,” you spoke to him. He was circling your clit with his tongue with expert precision; just enough to feel like you were floating, but not enough to feel like you were grinding against a rock. Then he did something else you taught him, but with his own twist. He scratched up and down your thighs, the familiar sensation making you feel like music. But then, he slid his tongue down to your entrance and stuck it in, your arousal pooling around it in the act.

“F-fuck. Where’d you learn how to do that? Been seein’ someone else?” you inquired, only half joking. He pulled out and looked up at you with an earnest fire in his eyes.

“Never.” Then, he continued his actions, fucking his tongue into you as far as both of your anatomies would allow.

You pushed his head into you, grinding down with need. His afro acted as a protection against your brutal shove. He slid his tongue back out and worked your clit again, feeling confidence settle into his demeanor. So much confidence, he took two fingers, collected your arousal into them, and slid them into you. You cursed loudly.

“O-oh my god…F-Yeah! Curl them like that,” you mewled, your brain not knowing how to compute your pleasure into words. You’d only felt your own fingers inside there, once or twice, and you didn’t enjoy it. Your fingers couldn’t reach as far as his currently were, though.

You fell back against the bed as you felt your orgasm sprinting toward you faster than you anticipated, gripping onto your sheets and locking your ankles around Michael’s neck in an attempt to hold on.

“M-mikey, ah. Stop. Stop, stop, stop,” you breathed out to him, feeling the knot in your stomach almost unravel. He immediately withdrew his mouth and fingers, you arousal leaving a string of connection to his chin as he did so.

“Did it start to hurt? Sorry, I just thought you were gonna have an or-”

“I was gonna have an orgasm. I just don’t want to yet. I wanna suck that pretty dick of yours first. You’re gonna let me, right?” you asked him, not really leaving space to take no for an answer.

Michael never let you suck him off, to your own disappointment. He’s eaten you out so many times that you’d run out of positions for it, he’s let you grind against his dick with clothes, he’s even let you jerk him off, but he’s never let you get on your knees and put your mouth on it. His exact words were that it was ‘degrading and useless.’ He didn’t wanna hurt you. But you wanted to see him let go. You wanted the proof of your lewd acts with him physically etched into bruises to the back of your throat.

“Baby, I can’t let you do th-” You clamped your hand against his mouth once more.

“You’re gonna let me suck you off. Right?” you asked, slowly moving your hand away from his mouth.

“Ok-kay,” he responded with resignation in his voice.

He stood up and you slid his bottoms off, licking your lips at the sight of him. He was holding out on you because god was it pretty. And big. You thought he was just being a modest gentlemen when he told you he didn’t want to hurt you, but it was more than just that. He was really long, and he knew it.

“So you knew how big your dick was huh? That’s why you never let me do this. Betchu imagine me sucking that pretty thing off all the time.” You reached for it greedily and spit onto his tip, watching it slide down the base slowly.

“Stop- d-don’t talk about it like that..” he said weakly.

“Oh but you like it, though. I could practically feel you getting harder, baby. No need to be shy about it,” you egged him on. Before he could protest any longer, you wrapped your hand around his base and began tugging upward. You reached for your lipgloss with your free hand and applied a thick layer to your swollen lips. You blew a taunting kiss at him. He was visibly holding back his moans, much to your disapproval.

“Nuh-uh, let me hear those pretty moans. Sing for me, Michael,” you directed. He obeyed, and not even on purpose. The way you were touching and talking to him made him forget who he was.

“Feels s- you feel so good. I love you..” he blabbered.

“I love you too, baby.” You leaned forward and gave his shaft an open-mouthed kiss, maintaing eye contact with him. His whole body went rigid in shock as he saw the sticky mark your lip product left in its wake.

“Oh, god,” he groaned, jerking his hips up into your hand. You started twisting it whenever you got closer to his tip.

Without warning, you took it into your mouth, eyes focused on his, and sunk down on it. His eyes rolled back and his hands flew to the back of your head, holding it for composure. You began slowly moving up and down, flattening your tongue and sucking him like he was the best popsicle you’d ever tasted.

“Pl-ease, I don’t wanna cum yet. Plea-, please, please,” he begged on and on, turning please into a chant.

You hummed around his length, ignoring him, and continued to work. Tears stinged at your eyes, and drool dribbled out of your mouth. The sinful sight of you made him do something he swore he wouldn’t do. He rocked into your mouth roughly, just once, but it was enough to make you falter and gag against him. You moaned lustfully and your eyes lolled to the back of their sockets. He removed his hands from your head and scooted back from your mouth with a pop.

“‘M so sorry! I should’ve contained myself better. I know better. Did it hurt? If course it hurt, you’re crying and you gagged. Oh, God I’m so sorry prett-” You gripped onto his dick harshly, cutting him off.

“Michael, I want you to do that. I love it. Fuck my mouth, angel face. I can take it,” you reassured him with a devilish grin.

“N-no, I shouldn’t’ve let you touch me like that. You’re too precious…I can’t hurt you agai-”

“Michael. For the love of God, shut the hell up. I want you to hurt me and bruise me and make me cry. Is that not okay? Am I too dirty for you?” you asked him, feigning hurt. You secretly enjoyed tricking him into getting what you wanted because he somehow always gave it to you, and this time was gonna be no different.

“Not at all! You could never be too dirty for me…You’re perfect. I just don’t wanna degrade you like that. But since it’s what you want, okay. I’ll give you anythin’ you want.” Bingo.

“M’kay, now you gonna fuck my throat like a good boy, right?” you asked him with puppy dog eyes, tears still sitting in your waterline.

“Y-yes,” he responded hesitantly.

“Yes, what?” you asked him, enjoying working him up like this.

“Yes, angel. I-i’m gonna fuck your face…like a good…boy?” he responded, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than he was you.

You gave him a soft hmm and pulled him back towards you, spitting a glob into your hand once more. You jerked him slowly 4 times and then looked him in his face.

“Don’t worry about me, ‘kay? If I want you to stop, I’ll make you stop. But, I trust you,” you said earnestly. “C’mon, stand up and give it to me, baby.”

Then, you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. He hesitantly stood up, jerked himself twice, and then pushed into your mouth. Holding the back of your head gently, but firmly, with both of his hands, he set an inexperienced pace with his thrusts. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked harshly whenever he would drag his hips back, causing his legs to shake.

“Th-this is so, AH, wrong. You shouldn’t look this pretty like this. With my…thing in your mouth.”

You scrunched your brows into a pout and moaned loudly, forcing him to unconsciously fuck your mouth harder.

“B-baby you can’t do that, ‘m gonna finish if you do.” You continued moaning and sucking loudly, noticing his breaths shorten as his climax neared.

“God, you’re so pretty d-down there. Ngh- wait-” You forced yourself away from his crotch and crawled to the center of your bed, positioning yourself on all fours. You turned around and coaxed him over to you with a teasing finger.

“Baby, I need you. See how wet I am?” You arched your back and swayed your hips side to side, letting the light catch your arousal. “I need you to make me feel better. It’s aching,” you pouted. His feet were moving before his conscious mind could register your words, and he joined you in bed. He picked up the condom he mindlessly dropped earlier and unwrapped it.

“I-i’ll make you feel better,” her says as he pulled the rubber from its foil packet.

You turned around and took the contraceptive from him.

“Let me put it on you, daddy,” you smirked as you said the nickname.

“Don’t call me th-that,” he pouted.

You placed it on his tip with unnecessary friction and rolled it down his shaft, raising your eyebrows and smirking at the pathetic boy in front of you.

“Mmm, but you like it when I tease you with it,” you told him.

“Okay.” He gulped audibly and leaned down to press a hot kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Michael. Now fuck me like you need it,” you said as you went back to your position on all fours. You were almost scared that he’d be too big, or that you’d need lube that you didn’t have, but as soon as he pushed his tip in, your pussy sucked him in. It was an unfamiliar feeling, being stretched like this, but your body didn’t register too much pain. You were drenched.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he called out as your sex squelched around him, forcing him in deeper. You moaned out as he stretched and filled you. As soon as he bottomed out, he laid on top of your back, already feeling overwhelmed.

“M-michael! Oh my god, ‘m so wet. Needed your dick inside me so bad, fuck,” you inched forward and slammed back against his length forcefully, arching your back in the process. He sat up immediately and gripped onto your hips.

“The way you talk…” he trailed off as he started thrusting into you slowly.

“You like m-my dirty mouth, baby? Want me to talk to you through it, pretty boy?” you asked him, feeling his tip hit your g-spot with ease.

“Yes, please,” he whined, speeding up slightly in anticipation.

“F-fuck me harder, baby. Feels so good.” You pushed your head into your mattress, arching your back up higher, allowing yourself to take him deeper. He followed your instructions and snapped his hips into you harshly once, gauging your body’s response to the action. You pushed your ass further into his crotch, and he took that as silent permission.

“Mikeyyy. You’re so bad, taking my virginity in my bedroom like this. Mmm-fuck,” you whined, your vision going blurry with tears of pleasure.

“Y-yes, so bad. ‘M so bad,” he repeated, slamming into you faster. Your bed was creaking with his thrusts. He could already feel himself losing it again.

“Mmm, mmm, Mikey p-push my head into the mattress baby. Be rough.”

He obeyed immediately, leaning over and pressing his palm to the side of your head. He took one look at your face and felt his orgasm creeping up. Your mouth was wide open and there was a huge wet spot where your mouth leaked drool onto your sheets.

“You’re so pretty, baby. You look so good like this,” he complimented.

“With you plowin’ me into m-my own sheets? Thank you, baby boy.”

Your tongue licked at his thumb that was near your lips, and you sucked it into your mouth.

“OH! I’m g-onn…I’m cumming. Shit, I’m cumming!” he cried out as his hips stuttered. He buried himself into you deeply and filled the condom with his seed. He collapsed his torso onto your arched back and you bit his thumb. He clutched it after you spat it out of your mouth.

“I didn’t say to stop, did I? I thought you were a gentleman. Make me cum,” you demanded.

“Yes, baby. ‘M sorr-y…” he apologized in between whines of overstimulation.

You reached your hand down to your clit and started playing with it needily, overeager to cum on him. He pounded into you again, his dick half hard, as you started babbling into your bedsheets.

“Mikey, ‘m s-so close. Keep fuckin’ me like that, baby. You’re doin’ so well for me. You’re fillin’ me up so good.” The sound in the room was so unmistakable. The noise of creaky box springs, skin slapping and sticky arousal drowned out the hum of music leaving your record player.

He leaned down and hovered over your ear, whimpering into it. He sounded like an undiscovered instrument. The sound made your pussy squeeze against his shaft, signaling your orgasm.

“Y-yeah be louder. Love your filthy little whimpers, Michael. Gimme more,” you said with the last of your breath. He pounded harder and fully moaned into your ear, causing you to completely come undone.

You reached behind you and dug your nails into his sides as your legs shook and your pussy spasmed around his spent dick, already hardened again. You screamed his name like a prayer and Michael wished that was the only sound his ears would ever be subjected to again.

As you began going limp, Michael slid his arm underneath you, wrapping around your waist, and pulled out of you. He rolled into his side and pulled you on top of his chest, ignoring how hard he was again.

“I’m so glad it was you,” he said after he caught his breath.

“Hmm?” you asked him, looking up to the side of his face.

“My virginity. I’m glad you took it. It feels like you were exactly who I was waitin’ for whenever I would tell my brothers I was waitin’ on the right girl. No, you’re even better,” he said bashfully.

“Well, I’m glad you took mine too. You were absolutely perfect. I’m so glad we get to share this memory with each other. We fit so well together, don’tcha think? Like two halves of a puzzle,” you mused with a faint smile.

“I’d say so,” he said with a gulp loaded with a double meaning.

“Whatcha mean by that, baby?” you questioned him.

“Just…It’s like your body was swallowin’ me whole. It was incredible.” He bit his lips as he looked you in your eyes. You felt a pulsing at your abdomen, finally noticing how hard he was.

“Ohhh, my baby’s ready for round two? You have stamina…Good ta know,” you teased him with a giggle.

“‘M sorry, you just look ‘n sound so pretty when you’re tellin’ me what to do…”

“It’s okay, baby. Here. Let’s go take a quick shower, yeah? Then we can sixty-nine,” you said as you sat up on your knees. You gave him a wink. He gulped both audibly and visibly.

“Oh, yes please. I’d love that,” he responded with unconcealed enthusiasm. You pulled him behind you and led him toward the restroom, the excitement of round two noticeable in your light steps. You discarded your shirt and pulled Michael’s over his head for him.

“Take off that condom, baby. I’m gonna wash you up.”

He threw the soiled condom into your tiny tin trash can, and trailed after you like a puppy.

You turned on your shower and faced him, your tits on full display to him now. He swallowed loudly and gave a kiss to each of your nipples, surprising you in the act.

“I love you,” he whispered, and then leaned in to give you an intense kiss. His tongue slotted between your lips before you pulled away.

“Uh-uh. Don’t start something you can’t finish in here, needy boy. I’ll make it worth the wait.”

You stepped into the shower, him immediately after you, and the two of you let a comfortable silence settle in the air, washing yourselves and then each other’s backs.

With the two forgotten lip balm flavors lying lazily on the floor, the promise of your newly broadened sexual history etched into the empty house with a faint trace of a sweet scent. The scent of honey glaze.

Tags: @simp4eshal @urbanfunkchild @gothicmj @lil6uapa @yenvixx @cndybliss