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Late Sunday evening had settled over the Hayvenhurst estate and the scent of fried chicken, collard greens, mac & cheese, and cornbread was still wafting through the home. 

Some new variety show played quietly on the television in the background, but it was drowned out by the Jackson brothers’ loud voices overlapping. They were lounging around after dinner and someone had brought out the good whiskey. 

At the edge of the couch sat Michael, halfway listening and picking at a loose string on his sleeve. He was mostly quiet like he always was when this kind of talk came up. 

Whenever his brothers started having locker room conversations he stayed out of it. 

His private life— especially anything in relativity to you— stayed close to the vest.

Tito leaned back in the leather armchair nursing his second glass of the night. He was grinning wide, saying “I’m tellin’ you man, hittin’ it from the back changed the game for me. You get that angle right, put her face down, ass up… she gon’ lose her mind. A whole different kind of cryin’.”

At this, Michael’s head snapped up. 

The word cryin’ had piqued his interest. 

Heat began spreading across the back of his neck as he listened closer. Jermaine jumped in and nudged Tito with his elbow. He looked over his shoulder before speaking to make sure none of the ladies were about to wander into the room. 

The guys’ wives were currently having their own chat, still sat around the dining table drinking wine.

Once the coast was clear, he added “Especially if you know how to find that lil’ spot deep inside that makes her legs shake and her voice get all high and whiny like she can’t talk straight.” He pointed at Tito smirking, “And if you add a pillow under her hips and hit it just right, she gon’ love you forever.”

Michael gulped audibly. His fingers were now frozen in place. Tito heard it and grinned even bigger. 

“What Mike? You and your girl ain’t never tried it?” 

Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, “You guys can be such pigs”. He mumbled while avoiding eye contact.

Truthfully, no, you guys hadn’t. 

You and Michael had just started being intimate and it was mostly in missionary where Michael stayed pressed chest to chest with you and couldn’t stop kissing you. 

He loved being able to see your pretty face and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

That is— until now.

Tito didn’t let up. “Mike, with the body that girl got, man? You playin’, right? The way her ass sits? You still doin' it missionary like a church boy?” 

The brothers chuckled together in that loud and playful way they always did. 

Michael cut his eyes as Tito. He felt defensiveness bubble to the surface quickly, sharp and protective. 

This wasn’t new. His brothers had been on him for months now ever since you started coming around. You were real thick, and fine as hell. A real brown skin beauty. This was a synonymous agreement amongst them all. 

Every time you came over, he caught them doing low whistles or elbowing each other when they thought he wasn’t looking. 

“Damn Mike… you got all that and you still playin’ it safe? Couldn’t be me.” They’d say once you were out of earshot, shaking their heads. 

They weren’t wrong, you were fine as hell, and he had definitely been playing it safe. But you were his girl, and therefore his business. 

“Don’t talk about her like that.” He said, voice low and firm. “That’s my girl and y’all need to mind your own business, quit sayin’ all that stuff about her body. Keep it to yourself.”

Jermaine and Jackie oooh’d in high pitched voices before sipping their drinks, staying out of it. 

Everyone knew how Michael got when it came to you. 

Out of all the brothers he was the most sensitive, romantic, and emotionally attached when it came to women. And to make things more intense, you were his first. 

First real girlfriend, first girl he’d ever invited over— and more recently, to spend the night. You were the first person he’d ever been intimate with. 

To Michael that was sacred. He was a bit of a late bloomer, and you thought it was adorable.

You loved being able to experience new things with him. Honestly, you had him wrapped right around your finger. If you asked him to pluck the stars out the sky one by one, he would. 

Tito held his hands up in surrender, still laughing. “Aight, aight. We ain’t mean no harm, but for real Mike. You still got a lot to learn, and that’s a good thing. Means you get to figure it out with her, make her feel brand new every time.” Then he winked and took another drink from his glass. 

“Whatever, Tito” he rolled his eyes. 

Michael was mostly quiet for the rest of the night, but the words stuck with him, sparking a lightbulb in his head.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Later that same week you stopped by the house to drop off something for Michael. He was upstairs changing and had asked Tito and Jermaine to keep an ear out for the door because he was expecting you. 

You were rounding the corner when you overheard Tito’s voice, real low. 

“Damn, she fine as hell. Hips that’ll make a grown man drool like a baby. Her body is crazy man. And Mike still playin', doin’ it like its 1965.” 

He and Jermaine chuckled together and then Jermaine replied, “Mike don’t know what to do with all that. She probably makin’ that boy forget his own name.”

You stepped into the doorway as if you hadn’t heard anything, smile sweet and eyes soft. “What y’all doin’?” Immediately, the energy changed. Tito sat up straighter and his grin turned warm and respectful.

“Hey sweetheart. You lookin’ pretty today.” Jermaine nodded in agreement with a sweet voice.

“How you doin’ baby girl? Go on up, Mike’s waitin’ on you”

Thanking them you turned and headed up the long winding staircase, smirking to yourself. 

You weren’t visually impaired; you knew exactly what kind of body you had and the effect it had on men.

But as for Michael’s brothers? Out of respect, they would never dare say anything of the sort to your face. 

You had skin-tight bell bottom jeans on that accentuated your curvy figure, and the top you had on revealed a peek-a-boo of cocoa skin at the small of your back. You made sure to roll your hips extra hard as you trailed up the stairs to your man.

Both brothers’ eyes followed the sway of your hips and the full, heart-shaped curve of your ass as you walked away. 

Once you were out of earshot, Jermaine and Tito gave each other a knowing look. Tito let out a low appreciate whistle under his breath. 

Jermaine shook his head and walked away, “I’m tellin’ you man, Mike don’t know what to do with all that.”.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

That same day Michael found himself at the library. He asked Bill to drop him off for a while so he could do some research on a new dance style he was trying.

But truthfully? He was trying to figure out what to do with all that.

He walked into the library with his hoodie pulled low over his curls and large sunglasses covering most of his face. When he got to the help desk he asked the librarian for books on female anatomy. Specifically medical ones— the kind with diagrams. 

Once the package was secure Michael made his way to the back of the library to a corner that seemed quiet enough and settled down at a table. His heart was thumping so hard he thought he could feel it in his throat. 

Michael took one more look around before he cracked the book and began scrolling through its pages. His face felt hot when his eyes finally landed on the diagram he’d been looking for. 

The description of the sensitive bundle of nerves made everything his brothers were saying click. He scanned the page slowly to make sure he understood.

How pressure there could make everything clench and flutter and cry. The idea that touching you a certain way and a certain angle could pull that kind of reaction from you felt like a new language to Michael. 

One that he was desperate to speak. 

He flipped the page and when he saw the illustration on it of the anterior vaginal wall he gasped softly and nearly dropped the book. 

His fingers fumbled as he quickly shut it, suddenly embarrassed at the idea that someone might come near. Quickly Michael decided that he needed a private place to study. 

The only thing was, when he went to stand to leave, he finally noticed the not-so subtle tent that had formed in his pants as he was reading. 

So, he sat there for a long minute, fumbling with the book and breathing through it while his ears burned hot with embarrassment. 

Once he had contained himself enough he tucked the book under his arm and checked it out at the front desk with his head down like he was hiding something sacred. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next afternoon Michael thought he was alone. 

He had his book open— and fairly close to his face due to how intrigued he was. 

The house was quiet which was a rarity. He was just getting to the good part about applying rhythmic pressure and circling the spot when he heard footsteps coming toward him.

Immediately he looked up. Tito walked in and locked eyes with Michael. But before he could speak or greet him, he saw the look that flickered across his face.

It was the same look Michael would get as a little boy whenever he got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. The same look he had seen on his face when Michael was 10 and snatched one of his older brother’s magazines, being nosey of course. 

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize he was looking down at a Playboy until Tito called out, “Mike, they filmin’ you”. Instantly he had dropped the magazine like it was on fire. Just like he did the book in his hands now.

Michael felt like he was in one of those old ninja movies. The ones where the screen splits in half and the camera closes in on both their eyes. He knew he was caught. Michael’s fingers tightened around the book on instinct, but it was already too late. He had maybe 5 seconds to react and he knew it.

Tito’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, and before Michael could even move Tito quickly crossed the room in 3 strides and snatched the book from him. “What you got here, Mike?” Michael’s eyes went huge.

“Give it back, man—” But Tito was already teasing and holding the book out of his reach. He started flipping pages and reading aloud in a sultry voice, teasing Michael. 

“To stimulate the G-spot, apply firm, rhythmic pressure to the anterior vaginal wall approximately two inches inside… combine with clitoral stimulation for maximum effect…” Tito hooted in amusement. “Aw man, we got Mikey studyin’! Look at this — diagrams and everything. Lil’ man out here doing homework for his girl!”

Jackie and Jermaine heard the commotion from the other room and came in to be nosey. Tito kept going, his voice getting higher as his amusement grew. 

“The tissue may swell and become more sensitive with continued stimulation…” He looked away from the book to his little brother “You really got sticky notes in the margins with notes Mike? I’m proud of you man, finally learnin’ how to handle all that fine ass your girl got”.

Michael’s face was on fire. He reached for the book, voice sharp with embarrassment and a little bit of attitude even though he knew it was just teasing. “Give it back Tito, don’t! I’m serious, that ain’t funny.”

Tito held the book out of reach still chuckling then acted like he was gonna hand it over. He extended the book to Michael, but when he reached for it— he yanked it back at the last second still giggling to himself at Michael’s diligence. 

“You sure you ready for all this knowledge?” He laughed harder when Michael glared at him hard. “Aight, happy studying then.”

Michael snatched the book back, grumbling “You guys are so dumb” under his breath as he stormed off to his room. A chorus of his older brothers’ warm teasing followed him all the way there. 

Yeah they were clowning him, but they were happy he was stepping up.

Later that night when things were actually quiet and it was safe, Michael stayed up late with the book open on his bed. 

He kept re-reading the section on angle and pressure. He felt flustered from how explicit the instructions were, but he was determined to do right by his woman.

At one point, he even grabbed a pillow and slipped it under his hips to practice the slow rolling motion the book described. Of course, with his face buried in his arm because he felt ridiculous—and horny— at the same time.

He kept thinking about you. How pretty you sounded when you came for him, and about how he wanted to make you cry the good kind of tears.

When you came over the next day Michael caught himself watching the way your hips swayed when you walked and how full your ass looked in the jeans you wore. 

His eyes lingered for longer than they usually did, but he quickly looked away when you turned over your shoulder to ask him something. He wasn’t usually like that…vulgar. 

He appreciated your body and loved every inch of it but researching this new information had him feeling bashful, anxious, and eager all at once. 

Still, he simply tucked his hands in his pockets and tried to act normal. The image stayed with him all day though.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

That weekend the Jackson family left for New York City to celebrate Janet. She had just landed a guest star role on the show Diff’rent Strokes and was over the moon about it. It was one of the most popular shows on television. 

Katherine had suggested that the family fly out to watch her first few days on set because Jan's nerves were high. If there was one thing the Jacksons were gonna do, it was pull together for one of their own.

Everyone was going, except Michael. He declined claiming that he had some new music he had to get out, so he needed to be near his studio. 

And everyone knew how Michael was when it came to getting his ideas out in a timely manner. “We know, we know Mike” Marlon had said on his way out. “You gotta get it out now or God’s gonna give the idea to Prince.” He rolled his eyes dramatically before closing the door behind him. 

Michael sighed contently, a large smile taking over his features. 

Finally. 

He did have music he wanted to work on, butttt that’s not why he declined to go. 

This was the best time for him to put his knowledge to the test without fear of anyone overhearing or interrupting. Michael headed down to the kitchen immediately. 

He knew exactly whose help he needed. “Hey Ms. Nancy” Michael leaned up against the kitchen counter unsuspectingly, peering over the older women’s shoulder as she stirred something that smelled delicious in a large pot.

Nancy hadn’t heard Michael enter the room but she turned around smiling a smile that reached her eyes. “Hey baby, what you still doin’ here? Not goin’ to celebrate Jan?” Michael shook his head and his curls fell across his forehead as he did so. 

“No ma’am. I had some things I needed to get done back here… Can I ask you a favor?”

She looked over at Michael again and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not making vegan lasagna again, Michael. That cheese is just nasty.” she screwed up her nose at the thought. Michael laughed hard at the memory of the watery lasagana. 

“No, no. I promise I’ll never ask you to do that again. I was just wonderin’… I wanna have my girl come over tonight for a little date. Before you leave for the day, do you think you could whip us up somethin’?” 

She smiled knowingly to herself as she focused on attending to the pot. “Oh you had some extra work to do, huh? You ain’t got to lie to Ms. Nancy, baby. I was young once.” Michael’s face felt hot and his eyes widened. He covered his face and nervous giggles escaped him.

“It’s not like that Ms. Nancy! Just gonna spend some time now that it’s quiet, that’s all.”

“Mhm, alright now.” She gave him a look that clearly said “you can’t fool me honey, you ain’t slick. I’ve known the game longer than you’ve been alive.”

“Whatcha want me to make baby? She loved that honey butter cornbread last time, I ended up sending some home with her.” 

Michael’s stomach rumbled and he nodded in agreement. “That would be perfect. And can you make that one dish with the smothered chicken and rice that she likes?”

“I got you. Want me to leave the stove on low so it can stay warm?”

“Yes please, you’re the best” Michael pressed a sweet kiss to Ms. Nancy’s cheek and thanked her before turning and heading out of the kitchen. “Tell Mr. Greg I said hello” He yelled over his shoulder as he headed off to his next destination. 

“I will baby.” She called back.

Everything was coming together.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Later that evening, Michael had asked Bill to pick you up to bring you over. You told him you could drive but he insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. 

You were so confused when you got to the estate and there was no one playing basketball outside. No music drifting through the windows. It looked empty. 

You almost asked Bill if he was sure Michael was home before he stepped out of the front door. 

He stood waiting patiently, a shy sweet smile on his face as he waited for Bill to park. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

“Mikey?” You looked around suspiciously as he opened your door for you. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“Hi baby. It’s so good to see you, how was the ride over?” He looked you over as if he hadn’t seen you in days before pressing a soft lingering kiss to your lips.

“It was fine Mikey, where is everybody? Why is it so quiet, is everything okay?” 

You were getting concerned now. Hayvenhurst was never this empty. Michael let out a breathy laugh and nodded.

“They all went to New York. Went to see Jan. She had some stuff she was working on and mother wanted the whole family there.” He paused but his doe eyes stayed on you. “I stayed behind 'cause I wanna be with you.” 

You were flattered but didn’t ask him to elaborate further. No way were you gonna complain about finally getting alone time with your man in his mansion.

He took your hand in his large one and led you toward the house, thanking Bill and saying goodbye. “I asked Ms. Nancy to make dinner” He said looking over at you shyly. “Wanna wash up first? It’s ready whenever you are.”

Now you raised your eyebrows. Not because Michael wasn’t usually thoughtful, he always was. Sometimes too much and to his own detriment. But, this evening suddenly started to feel special in a way you couldn’t pinpoint.

“For meee?” Playfully you raised a hand to your chest in a flattered way. 

“You’re so cute. Yes, silly. Of course, for you. Always for you.” His gaze held yours a little longer now, lips curved in an adorable boyish smile. 

“What she make?” You asked. He scratched the back of his neck bashfully.

“Smothered chicken, yellow rice, cheesy broccoli, and cornbread.” Your whole face lit up before you could hide it. 

“Mike, you know that’s my favorite!” You were already smiling big. Michael’s expression softened and admiration glazed over his features.

He was always enamored by how small things made you so happy. He thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Especially when your eyes got big and you bit your lip trying not to smile too hard.

“I know” He said quietly, thumb massaging your hand that it was holding gently. “That’s why I asked for it.”

Stepping in close, you wrapped your arms around his middle. “You’re so sweet. How’d I get so lucky?”

Michael couldn’t stop the grin he had from getting bigger. He loved feeling chosen by you. He hugged you back and laughed under his breath. Chin resting on your head.

“Go wash up mama, I’ll fix your plate.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Dinner was quiet in the best way. You guys sat at the kitchen table instead of the big formal one since it was just the two of you. Between bites you chatted and caught up, although there wasn’t much to catch up on because Michael made sure he saw you nearly every day. If he didn’t see you, he’d speak to you at least twice on the phone. It was clingy but you loved it.

He asked you what you had been up to for the day. You told him a funny story about your little cousin.

You guys were at the mall and she was talking loudly about how her mama was trippin’ on her about not wanting her to hang out with some guy.

And then, her mom appeared right behind her as she was in the middle of rolling her neck and saying, “I don’t care what she say, I’m still goin’ with him to that party. If I gotta climb out my window, I’m goin.”

Long story short, when she looked and saw your aunt standing behind her, arms crossed and lips pursed, she changed her whole tune. Michael laughed hard and shook his head he loved hearing stories about your life. It was nice. Normal.

Every time you made a happy little sound as you took a bite his eyes flicked up to you like he couldn’t help watching. When you tore a piece of cornbread and dipped it in the gravy, he smiled to himself and looked down at his plate. Things felt easy with you. Comfortable, like home. 

By the time the plates were empty you both were full and lazy.

“C’mon” Michael stretched his hand out to you. “Movie?” You accepted it without thinking.

In the den the lighting was warm and low. Michael put on something but you weren't really paying close attention to it. You were stretched out on the big couch on your back and he was settled between your legs, cheek resting against your tummy and arm draped loosely over your thigh. His weight was warm and familiar and every now and then he’d turn his head and press a soft, slow kiss to the skin right above your navel.

Absentmindedly, you played with his curls. His breathing matched yours and every so often his fingers would stroke lazily along the side of your thigh. After a while, he turned to look up at you with big doe eyes. 

“There’s somethin’ I wanna show you” He said quietly, “In my room… come with me?” You shrugged and said sure, allowing him to pull you up off of the couch.

You followed him down the hall expecting a new demo he’d been working on or one of his quiet little hobbies. But when he opened the bedroom door, the air was warm and sweet with candlelight.

A new Stevie Wonder record was spinning on his turntable. And the bed— the bed was made neatly, pillows fluffed, rose petals scattered over the comforter and everything glowing gold.

Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you stopped in the doorway. “Michael… what is all this?”

He turned to you with a shy smile tugging at his lips, shoulders a little hunched. “Just… just tryin’ somethin’. For you. For us.”

He stepped close and placed gentle hands on your waist to lean in and kiss you. It started slow and soft, the kind that made your stomach flutter. His lips moved against yours like he couldn’t help himself, tongue gently trailing along your bottom lip to request access. His tongue slid warm and careful against yours.

One hand came up to cup your jaw and his thumb stroked your cheek as he kissed you deeper. He pulled back just enough to mumble against your lips, a little out of breath.

“I love kissin’ you so much,” he whispered. “Could do this all night and still not get enough.”

He kissed you slower this time like he was trying to prove it. You melted into it. Your hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He made a quiet appreciative sound in his throat and kept kissing you, nipping softly at your bottom lip.

Only when both of you were a little dazed did he start walking you backward toward the bed. He eased you down and followed you. Then he started all over again. Kissing your throat and your collarbones, pushing your shirt up inch by inch so he could mouth at the soft skin at your stomach.

He took his time kissing down your tummy before going lower and settling on your thighs. His hands rubbed slow circles on them as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh where the skin was softest.

When your muscles twitched against his lips he smiled to himself and did again. Slower and higher this time. He let the anticipation build until your hips were shifting restlessly against the sheets under you.

A hot, open mouthed kiss was pressed over your panties and your breath caught. He looked up at you with dark, soft eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Every part of you.”

He took his time taking off your panties, hooking his fingers in the waistband and easing them down.

For a second he just gazed and admired how puffy and pretty your pussy looked. He still couldn’t believe he got to see you like this. Then, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss right over your clit. You made a quiet sound.

He settled in farther between your legs like he belonged there, shoulders gently spreading your legs wider. His tongue was gentle and he licked you with long careful strokes that made your hips roll against him without you intending to. He watched every little reaction closely and used them as a guide. If your breath caught in your throat, he stayed there. If your thighs shook in his hands, he did it again softer. He moaned quietly into you when you got wetter like the taste of you was something he wanted to savor.

“Mikey…” you gasped, hands gently threading through his curls.

He hummed against you teasingly to answer you which made your hips jolt. His tongue licked you flat and broad then he used the tip of it to gently circle your clit. One of his hands stayed on your thigh rubbing soothing circles while the other slid up to lace his fingers with yours.

When his lips sealed over your clit and sucked your back arched and soft moans fell past your lips. Michael loved it, and he kept that same patient rhythm as he kept you from pulling your hips away from him. He listened closely to the way your breathing changed. Then, he slid two fingers inside you and curled them slow, searching until he found a spot that made your hips jerk.

The way he stayed right there and used his tongue and fingers to stroke you had you seeing stars and tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from how good it felt. Michael moaned in appreciation when your thighs started quaking around his shoulders.

“That’s it, good girl baby” he murmured against you. “Let me make you feel good.”

The orgasm rolled through you in long, slow waves. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your hips pushed up against his mouth but he didn’t stop. He kept licking and sucking you through every throb, drawing it out until you were shaking and oversensitive to his touch. Only when you started gently pushing at his shoulders with a breathless little sound did he back away.

His gaze lingered on the pleasure-struck look on your pretty face as he pressed soft kisses to your thighs and made his way back up to your lips. His lips were shiny, eyes bright and soft.

He brushed his lips against yours and his eyes drifted across your features adoringly. He loved the way you got so dazed after he made you cum like that.

“I been thinkin’ bout somethin’,” he said softly. “I wanna try somethin’ new with you. If you trust me.”

“What, Mikey?” you asked, still breathless. He bit his lip nervously but held your gaze steadily.

“I…I want you to turn around for me, baby. On your knees… face down so I can love on you the way I been wantin’ to.”

The way he said it made your tummy flip. He never talked like that. Your eyes fluttered in surprise but you obeyed him immediately without question. Turning away from him, you pressed your chest and cheek to the mattress and arched your back to raise your ass high in the air.

Michael went completely still at your submission. The candle light was flickering against your soft brown skin, highlighting your pretty heart-shaped ass. His eyes trailed over your frame in the provocative position and admired how your waist dipped in at your wide hips that looked way more dramatic in this position.

He couldn’t help but notice the way your cheeks spread just enough to show the glistening lips of your pussy peeking out between them, a single strand of arousal dripping from you. Michael nearly drooled.

“Lord have mercy…” He exhaled. His hands explored you gently as if this was all new, palms sliding over the backs of your thighs to cup the fullness of your ass.

He squeezed gently then trailed his hands to your hips, gently running his thumbs over the dimples at the small of your back. “You look so pretty like this… I don’t even know what to do with myself, mama.”

He kissed your back where his thumbs has just been and then pressed another one to your right cheek.

He stood up straight and raised his t shirt up exposing his belly. Then he pushed his sweats down just enough. He was already hard, tip leaking with pre-cum from him rutting the mattress while he drooled from how good you tasted. 

He dragged the head gently through your folds in a teasing way before letting it catch on your entrance. “You trust me, baby?” he whispered as he slid up to bump your clit. You made a soft surprised sound and he giggled.

“Yes baby, of course I trust you.”

That was all the permission Michael needed to show you everything he had learned for you.

He placed a hand on your hip and pushed in carefully and slowly. You let out a low satisfied sound as he slowly stretched you inch by inch, biting his lip to contain himself.

“Takin’ me so good, princess.” His voice was shaking a little. “So warm and tight… I can feel every little flutter.” He bottomed out, hips flush against you and stayed there for a moment. Once he was sure you were okay, he began moving in slow, deep, searching rolls like he was looking for something. Until oh— he found it.

The second the head of his dick nudged that spot your eyes rolled back and a broken gasp punched out of your chest. Your hips pushed back against him to take him deeper on instinct.

After a few strokes he felt your walls clench around him and suddenly, you got a lot wetter. When he looked down to watch himself stroking you, you were creaming thick and white around the base of his dick.

Michael’s eyes went wide. He had never made you do that before. “Oh… there it is. That’s it, ain’t it?”

He repeated the motion from the same angle with another deep nudge. You pushed back against him harder with a high, whiny moan spilling past your lips. Exactly how his brothers had described it. Your thighs shook slightly and he could feel you creaming more as the obscene sounds filled the room.

He pulled his t-shirt the rest of the way up and brought to his lips so he could hold it with his teeth. He wanted an unfiltered look at the pretty picture he was painting between your legs.

Once free, his hands found their way to your hips and his thumbs pressed into the dimples there. He started fucking you deep and focused on angling every stroke to hit that spot over and over again.

He was still a little unsure, so he asked “Right there? Does that feel good, baby? I… I been readin’ ‘bout this. Wanted to make you feel good. Wanna make you cry for me the way Tito said.”

You nodded hard, pushing back against him for more and biting your lip when the movement made him nudge against your cervix. “Yes— yes, Mikey doin’ so good, don’t stop—”

He let out a shaky breath and kept rolling his hips. “Thank you baby, I learned it all for you. Been studyin’ so hard for you. So I could be perfect, just for you”

Your moans grew higher, completely wrapped in ecstasy and love. You kept pushing back, chasing it, thighs already starting to shake. His praise came in soft pieces between his breaths.

“Your skin looks so pretty in this light mama…” 

“Love how soft you feel… smell so good too, like cocoa butter” 

“These hips, baby…”

You were still pushing back for more, hips rolling to meet every deep stroke until— the intensity started tipping over into something sharper.

The pleasure got so concentrated it almost scared you. Your arms trembled and you tried to stay with it, but the pressure on that spot was becoming so intense that your body started easing forward on the bed without you consciously realizing it.

“Mikey—” you gasped, voice high and shaky. “Wait— it’s… it’s t-too much—”

His hips chased you as he trailed a hand slowly up the length of your back.

“Hand me a pillow, baby” You didn’t compute his request immediately due to being lost in the rhythm of his strokes.

One hand came down in a playful spank against the side of your ass. Not hard, just enough to make you jump a little and moan.

Instantly you obliged. He took the pillow from you and gently tucked it under your tummy under your hips. Instantly your back felt supported— and the pressure in your core increased.

His palm settled between your shoulder blades, gentle but firm, to keep you right where he wanted you. The other hand gripped your hip and pulled you back onto him in one smooth motion so he could keep the angle.

“I know, mama, I know,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing around the shirt in his mouth. “Feels so good, don’t it? Don’t run from me. Be a good girl and let me keep massagin’ that spot just right.”

You could hear how much wetter you were getting, and you could feel it too. Messy, creamy strings of your essence and his pre-cum every time he pulled back and thrust in again. Your arousal was coating his dick thicker, dripping down his balls now onto the sheets.

He watched it happen and his lips parted as the muscles in his stomach clenched and fluttered every time you creamed more around him. Your ass rippled and jiggled slightly with every thrust, back arching deeper because of your curves. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your heart-shaped ass bouncing soft and pretty against him in the candlelight.

“That’s my good girl…” he cooed, voice hoarse around the fabric in his mouth. “Look at you creamin’ all over me, baby. Your body was made for this, I swear. I love every inch of you. These thighs, this sexy lil’ waist,” he gently squeezed your love handles. “Pretty ass bouncin’ just for me. You smell like home, baby. Feel like home. I love you. I love makin’ you feel this good.”

Your eyes rolled back hard at the praise. “L-love you too Mikey— it feels so good— so— so good—” the words broke apart between high breathless moans as the pressure inside you kept building higher and higher.

It felt like something was about to break. Your thighs trembled violently and drool slipped from the corner of your mouth onto the pillow as your walls fluttered endlessly around him.

 You could feel it. An intense, almost scary pressure right on your spot. Then your eyes fluttered open just enough to notice the towel spread underneath you. Very carefully placed. He planned for this.

Michael leaned forward and gently grabbed your jaw to tilt your head back so he could kiss you. As his mouth met yours he shifted the angle of his hips, gently alternating between nudging the sensitive swollen tissue of your G-spot and pressing just a little deeper so the head of his dick brushed your cervix.  It was pornographic.

The combination of the tender open-mouthed kiss and the dual stimulation made your eyes flutter with submission and roll back. You moaned into his mouth, soft and helpless.

He kissed you like he couldn’t help it, soft and deep as he gave you those slow, alternating strokes before finally letting your head drop back down.

“Your ass looks so pretty like this,” he breathed, almost to himself. Then his cheeks went hot. “Can I say that? Tell me I can say it, baby.”

You looked back at him over your shoulder with glassy eyes.

“You can say whatever you want, Mikey… I love you. And I want you to stay inside. I went and got on the pill. Been thinkin’ about tryin’ somethin’ new with you too.”

His eyes lit up. Something warm and confident sparked behind them. The words his brothers had said echoing in his head. You hit that lil’ spot deep inside her, and she gon’ love you forever. He gripped your hips a little firmer, a soft new certainty in the way he moved.

The pressure kept climbing. Your voice cracked.

“Mikey— wait— I think I gotta— I think I gotta pee—”

His whole face changed. Eyes bright and shining like he’d just unlocked a new level in a video game.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, voice low and coaxing, a little breathless with excitement. “Don’t hold it. Don’t be scared. Just let it go for me. I read about this… it’s supposed to feel like that when it’s real good. You’re doin’ so good for me. Just let it happen mama. I got you.”

You almost giggled at how earnest he sounded until he nudged that spot again, slow and deliberate. Your eyes rolled back hard. The pressure broke. A sharp, wet rush of fluid gushed out of you around his dick, soaking the towel and splashing against his thighs as you squirted hard, body shaking, high-pitched cries spilling from your throat.

Michael made a sound like he’d just won something. A soft, stunned, almost disbelieving moan left him as he watched and felt you come apart on him.

“Oh my God… baby… look at you…”

The second he felt you squirt, his own orgasm started to crest slow and deep. His eyes fluttered. His stomach muscles clenched. A broken, accidental “F-fuck—” slipped out of him right as the first thick pulse left him.

He immediately looked almost panicked.

“Sorry—! I didn’t mean to say that—” he gasped, still cumming in long, drawn-out waves, hips stuttering as he filled you. “It just— it felt so— oh God, baby, I love you—”

You moaned low and deep when you felt him spill inside you, the warmth of it making your whole body clench around him again. It was y’alls first time like this. Something about the trust of it and the way he stayed buried deep and gave you everything made your eyes sting a little even as another aftershock rolled through you. You pushed back against him weakly, taking every pulse, a soft, satisfied sound leaving your throat.

He stayed inside you until the last tremor passed, arms wrapped tight around your middle, both of you shaking and trying to catch your breath. Stevie Wonder still spun soft in the background.

After a long while he pulled out slowly and kissed the back of your neck. He laid next to you and pulled you on top of him, draping your still shaking thigh across his waist. One hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your lower back.

He was quiet for a while, just breathing you in.

Then, soft and shy he asked, “Did I… did I do okay? Was that good for you?”

You lifted your head enough to kiss him, lazy and sweet.

“More than good, Mikey. You found it. You made me cry just like Tito said you would.”

He buried his face in your neck, cheeks hot, but you could feel him smiling against your skin.

“Yeah,” he whispered, voice full of wonder. “I guess I did.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

please respect my work 💌

Everything posted here is written

michael sat between your legs, knees digging into carpet as he looked up at you. waiting for your guidance, on how to properly eat you out. 

you were surprised honestly that this man had never done or even heard of such things at his age? i mean sure, he dated a few girls in the past (although that number was very small) and from what he told you he didn’t go very far with them, even if he did i was very vanilla! 

so when you asked if he wanted to try it out he was very nervous of falling or doing it wrong. but he’d try anything for his girl even if it made him a little anxious.

“okay” you sighed, gently running your hands though his loose curls “first things first is foreplay, you want the build up to be sweet and savory. ‘kay?” he nodded, moving his hands off his lap. he looked almost confused when he lifted them, like he wasn’t quite sure where to put them 

“here, rest them here” you placed his hands on your waist. his fingers resting gently against your skin, squeezing you lightly “okay” he breathed out almost breathlessly “foreplay…” he repeated

he wasn’t sure exactly what to do, he’d never kiss any woman on this part of their body before. just being this close made him dizzy enough, he took a deep breath before attaching his lips softly to your stomach. kissing your plush skin like he would your neck. you sighed comfortably, running your hands down his neck to encourage him “yeah—just like that” you admonition enough to keep him going despite his flustered state

his long hands were now splayed across your sides, holding you as if you were something heavenly 

he kissed from your navel up between your ribs, your skin was so soft, so intoxicating, so delicious that he felt a need to taste it. his tongue shyly peaking out to lick small stripes up your body. he felt you melt under his grasp which meant he had to be doing something good, right? he  kissed down your stomach to your thighs. he loved your legs truly, his hands slithered down to grab at your calf. kissing at your thighs and occasionally pressing his nose up against your skin

“so beautiful, s’perfect” he mumbled in a drunken daze. it felt like he was kissing you for hours now, he didn’t seem like he planned on stopping—almost forgetting the main reason for being on his knees kissing you so fervently 

“angel- angel, slow” it took everything out of you to mumble those words, his kisses and touches felt like a sedate was put over you that you had to fight so hard from slipping into.

“second step, get my panties off now” your tone shifting into a more authoritarian tone, the tone making michael feel more flustered than he already was. “o-okay” his slender fingers quickly moved to pull the lacy fabric right off of you. you propped yourself up by the elbows to watch him—finding his little facial expressions so innocent and an incredible turn on. he pulled them down your legs gently, carefully laying them to the side. trying to not let himself get distract at the sight of your sex bare in front of him, sticky from the obvious arousal from his actions—he tore his eyes away now  looking up at you for more direction 

“ah- before you start, grab my underwear” he looked confused, almost unsure if you were joking or not “underwear?” he looked down before looking back up, your expression surely didn’t change. so he picked them up carefully, feeling the warmth still on the fabric from being once on you. “now lick it” you commanded, if you could replay his bashful reaction you would, you’d tape it to be able to watch it over and over again. he gulped nervously, but soon his nervousness melted away when he felt your hand snake into his hair. grabbing at the curls gently to direct him “c‘mom be good for ma” you knew speaking like that and commanding him got him more excited than he would ever admit. the times when making out and your hand would push him down onto the bed, the thought of you taking charge scratched an inch in his brain.

he stuck his tongue out carefully, licking at the cotton carefully—cheeks rosy from the thought of how dirty his actions were, his eyes flickered up for approval his face was straight out of some erotica. his curls loosely falling over his face, his needy eyes just begging for your approval

“fuck michael come here now” you couldn’t wait anymore, desperate to get his tongue on you as soon as possible. you didn’t even bother explaining to him how to eat out properly—you shoved his face deep into your core, his nose pushing your sensitive buds and his startled moan sending a pleasant vibration through you

you started grinding up and down onto his nose chasing some sort of relief to the aching throb—michael squeezed at your butt, using it to ground himself as you literally fucked yourself onto his face. 

after not being able to breathe for a minute or two michael pushed his face away from your soaking core “w-wait ma- i need to breathe” he panted softly, hot puffs hitting you core “need to go slow, m’not experienced in this” he mumbled, god you loved when he got so bashful and shy when being intimate with you. “okay, that’s okay m’sorry, pretty boy just does so well at following instructions i got a bit excited” you cooed, petting his head to which he leaned into “you mean it?” he beamed at your praise “definitely pretty” you barely even was listening to him, dying to get his face back between you legs. 

it wasn’t long until he was ready again, you gave him some more instructions on how to pleasure you, explaining soft licks, kisses and nudges of his nose would be enough for his first time, and god was he a quick learner—his tongue pulled so slowly up your folds, his nose nudging you just right.

“r-right there mike-“ you squealed, the coil building fast in your stomach now, you pushed you face more into him which caused him to moan. the moan causing a sensual vibration to erupt which was just enough to push you over the edge. 

when michael pulled away, his face was shiny and sticky from your release spilling out onto him, curls sticking to his face from the sweat that started forming—you laid limped basking in the clarity of it all until a soft voice snapped you out your daze “did i do good?” you rouse up to meet his eyes, catching him mid motion of wiping his face with the back of his hand. you grabbed his wrist stopping him, using your free hand to gather what was left and push it between his lips gently

Michael couldn’t believe himself. Why is it every time he does stuff like this with you, his body reacts so sensitively and makes him cum in his pants like some pathetic teenage boy? It’s every time, seriously. He wishes he could fix it but, he can’t help it. You just feel.. too good.

Soft noises of lips touching consistently emanated in the room. You’ve been going for a hot minute now, jaw slowly becoming taut from moving so passionately and vigorously. Saliva collecting at the corners of your lips, tongues swirling and touching every now and then, sucking on each other’s lip. You could do this for hours if you really wanted to. But, you’re hoping for a little.. more than this afterwards if you’re picking up what I’m putting down.

Michael gasps for air silently when he pulls away from your moist lips. His breath staggered. He gazes up into your eyes filled with some kind of hunger, his being big and so sweet to stare into you’ll get lost in them. Blinking rapidly for a moment while catching his breath and mouth agape, his long curled upward lashes tickle under his eye. “Oh..baby please.” He managed to get out after a pause of words not coming out of his mouth. He looked so good desperate. His large hands sat on the fat of your hips and gripped like you’d disappear if he didn’t do so. Licking his lips, he spoke again. “I need you. Can I have you, please?” He begged. “Need you s’bad, you don’t even know.” Oh but you do know. Being that of the raging boner sitting under you, jumping. You cupped his warm face. “I need you too, Michael. But, I want this t’last a little longer baby. Here, how about over the pants stuff? That’d feel good too.” You say as you put a hold on his needy cries but suggest a somewhat just as good idea. A soft thumb of yours rubs slowly over the apple of his cheek as you wait for an answer. He’s devastated, to say the least. That’s not what he wanted.

He’s practically solid in his slacks right now and knows you can feel it too. It’s throbbing and so hard to the point it’s sore even. He needs to be inside of you, but if you say over the pants stuff for now then that’s what it is. He’ll always listen to your word. Though, he’s not really happy about it, you can see it in his face and expression with the way he’s pouting right now. Lip jutting out and covered in a thin layer of shine from spit. You’d give in right here and now if you really wanted to just by looking at his eyes. They’re a weakness to you. A strong one, you’d say. You don’t get the response you were waiting for so you just speak aloud again. “..I know, Mikey. I’m sorry. But you don’t want this to last a little bit longer?” You say with persuasion in mind and give a head tilt with a look. You know he wants it to too but just with the exception that he’s in you, not that you’re grinding down on him whose dick is aching badly that it’s hurting.

“I..I do. Want it t’last. But can’t it last longer with me in you? Please mama it aches.” His voice sounds down right pathetic now. He sounds so wrecked and nothing much has happened, it’s making you soil your panties even more. His voice is also another weakness of yours. Hell, all of his traits are. But can you really blame yourself? I wouldn’t. “Michael..” you say gently but it holds a tone underneath that says ‘don’t make me repeat myself’ in the way that means what you said was final. Period. Nothing you can do to stop it. He heard the tone, loud and clear actually, and it made him pout even more. Full eyebrows curved upwards in a glumly manner. Your heart ached slightly at his cute face, but you held on to your words and put ten toes down behind your word. To make him feel a bit better, you hold his face in your palms and kiss all over his lips, mumbling soft sorry’s and promises of how you’ll make him feel good. You back up your said promises by gradually letting your hips move forward and backwards in his lap. Your clothed pussy lining up with his pulsing dick made it much worse for him but at the same time better. Because for one, you’re letting him get friction of any sort from you and two, he’s not able to be stuffed in you. So yeah, bad and good.

Michael is letting out salacious moans with every hump you make, which also makes you let out some moans of your own. Even while you’re torturing him, you still feel good while doing it. Slick collects in your panties and bleeds through the fabric to make a wet spot on the gusset of it. Your palms on his shoulders and your fingers digging into them as you make movements. His hands go up to your hips to ground him and his forehead is press against your collarbone. You bring up a hand from gripping his shirt and curl your digits in his hair. On his end, he’s absolutely losing his mind. Eyes closed and brows furrowed in immense concentration to not bust in his slacks. Don’t do it, wait. You can’t cum yet it’s way too soon—it’s pathetic of you to do so this soon. Don’t do it, not like the over times you did it. He said to himself, giving a pep talk essentially. His breathing was heavy and fast, as if he ran for a long distance. All you could think of was how amazed you were at his state of condition because you effectively him so heavily. You were proud at yourself, grabbing up a good man before anyone else could. He pays for everything and anything you want and is a mess for you in bed? What more could you ask for, really? You get real close to his ear and talk to him in a racy tone. “You feelin’ good, Mikey? You sound a little out of breath. You okay?” If teasing was something that could kill, he’d be dead. Whenever your voice gets to that specific point, it’s melts him like chocolate on a scorching day. He’ll forever get worked up just from your voice. He loves it.

Michael lets out a noise of pleasure as an answer to your questions. You knew he couldn’t even answer right now with the way you’re talking and grinding so viciously on his lap. He’s too far gone and in the clouds now, you don’t think he’s coming back down anytime soon.

After a few minutes pass of continuous moaning and soft praise, he starts his babbling again. “I—oh—baby, I can’t-I can’t hold it..It’s too much now—” his words slur and blend together as he talks with hast. He drags out some of the words in his broken up sentence. Perspiration is collected at his hairline and his tight ‘fro is dripping with it. His body is on fire, feeling like someone lit a match and threw it in his lower abdomen. The band of climax snapped after trying to hold it in for as long as he could. With a soft cry of protest, he soils his pants.

A warm patch of wetness is started in the middle of the crotch section of them. You stop your sweet anguish by stilling your hips and peek down where you’re touching. Smiling to yourself at the cum stained slacks. He heaved slowly but faster than normal as he comes down from his high. “It hasn’t even been five minutes.” You sounded almost astonished at the fact. He lets out a disappointed whine and throws his head back against the couch cushion head rest. Droplets of sweat glide over his exposed neck.

“I’m sorry Tink’, I really am—I tried to stop myself, honest. I wanted t’last because you said you wanted this to go on a bit longer.” Before he could go on with his explanation, you kiss him. Real sloppy too, just to stop his nonsense.

“Mikey, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s okay. I like it actually, lets me know that I still got it.” You giggle at your own speaking and he looks at you with an upturned eyebrow. “Whaddya mean ‘still got it?’ You’re not old.” You suck your teeth and wave him off saying it was only a joke. A couple seconds go by without talking before you get sparked with an idea. You play it off as a continuation of your previous talking.

“Besides, you cumming in your pants only means I get to lick it off you, doesn’t it?” You lean close when you said that, and it immediately got him stiff once again.

You were gonna kill him someday with that mouth of yours. Figuratively and literally.

The soft sounds of your moans and his whimpers fill the air as Michael gripped both of your hands within his own, held above your head. His face was buried into the crook of your neck as he rolled his hips, hitting your sensitive spot with each thrust.

You loved the way Michael always took his time with you as sex was something still new to him, actively cringing when you said fucking opposed to love making— which he preferred.

He had no problem at making you feel good and finishing every time and you loved the sweet, passionate, intimacy you shared but you were starting to crave more. You daydreamed earlier about Michael's big hands wrapped around your neck as your sweet boyfriend drilled into you, making you cross your legs as you act focused on Latoya and Randy's conversation around the table.

Your mind drifted to your thoughts from earlier, allowing them to creep into your mind as you clench around Michael, garnering a shaky moan from his lips.

A wicked smile crossed your face as you decided to act on your desire, gently tapping at his shoulder to gather his attention. "Michael."

"Yes, baby?" He detached from your neck finally, slowing his pace as he looked down at you with a hint of concern. He looked stunning under the shine of the moonlight, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his temple, curls unruly, with a faint flush across his brown skin. You bit your lip in admiration, building up the courage to voice what was on your mind.

"Did I do something wrong just now? Tell me-"

"No, Mike. You're doing amazing baby," You cut him off mid ramble. "I just… was thinking about trying something new."

His eyes filtered across your face, gently squeezing your hands with a small nod. "Okay." He spoke simply.

You detached one of his hands from your own, dragging it towards the thickness of your neck. You placed his hand around your throat, making Michael gasp and retract his hand in shock.

"Baby… I don't want to hurt you!" His eyes were blown wide, looking down at you with concern.

"Michael, you could never hurt me, honey." You caressed the side of his face as he leaned into your touch. "I want you to try and be more… assertive… been daydreaming about it for days now." You shoot him a seductive glare, watching his chest rise and fall as he processed your words.

"I like giving you sweet love and— god— I don't ever want to degrade you." His sweet voice made you pulse around him, his jaw dropping slightly at the feel. You thought he was so caring, your cheeks going warm at how much your boyfriend worshiped you.

"You won't be degrading me, I'm telling you I want this, baby." You guide his hand back to your throat once more— Michael making no attempt to pull away this time as a shaky breath left his lips.

"Okay… You'll have to guide me through. Tell me what to do." He held your gaze intensely, waiting for your first command. You gently pushed at the small of his back, urging him to start moving his hips again.

"Gently squeeze the sides." Your hand was over his as you instructed him. He followed suit, squeezing the sides of your neck enough to make you release an airy moan. His hips found a slow rhythm, grinding his pelvic bone against your clit as his hand remained around you, watching you carefully.

"Yes Michael, so good." You moaned, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist while his thrusts sped up. The wet sound of your pussy was starting to fill the room, leaving Michael gasping above you every time you squeezed down on him, turned on from his grip on your neck.

"Talk to me, baby." You gripped his chin, making him look you directly in the eye.

"I'm… I'm not good at that kinda stuff." He huffed, strangled from the addictive feel of you around him.

"Tell me how good my pussy is, Michael."

He groaned your name, briefly shutting his eyes at your vulgar words.

"It's.. It's so good-"

"What is?" You purred, anticing him to get comfortable.

"You- You're.. pussy is so good." He spoke shyly, his skin growing hot.

"You're stuffing me so full with that perfect dick of yours." You quickly shot back, feeling Michael's thrusts falter for a moment.

"Oh fuck— You take me so well." He spoke more confidently this time, his thrusts growing rougher as you cried out, emerging yourself in the feel.

You fucked back, meeting his strokes with a sense of eagerness you were itching to execute, your shared moans tangling with each other as he squeezed your neck once more, your wetness gushing around him.

"So wet, just for me?" He mumbled more to himself, still trying to find his groove.

"All for you, Michael. It's all yours— fuck!" You cried out as his lips wrapped around your hardened nipple, sucking on the bud there.

He detached from you when you pulled him off, wanting to change positions. He pulled out of you with a whine, sitting back to wait for your direction.

When you flipped over and got on all fours, arching your back and allowing him a view of your glistening folds, he nearly came from the sight.

"We've never done this-"

"Exactly."

"But I like seeing your face-"

"Michael." You groaned, pushing back against his length pressed up on your ass, wanting to shut him up. He finally lined up with your entrance, sliding in easily from how soaked you were. You moaned at the new angle when he bottomed out, feeling him deeper than before.

He pulled back and gave a deep thrust, whimpering at the sensation. The jiggle of your ass against him had his head spinning, knowing he was doomed from this position.

"Michael, grab my hair."

"Are you sure?" He questioned, catching the serious look you shot back at him.

"I want you to put me through this mattress. Stop asking so much and just do."

Something about him loved when you were dominant with him and he wanted nothing more than to keep his lady satisfied.

His hand found purchasing within your hair, getting a good grip as he pulled back and thrusted deeply inside of you, pulling you back onto his dick with the leverage from your hair. You were fighting back a smile as he fucked you from behind, his shaky breaths and the sound of your pussy struggling to take him making you delirious.

You tried to keep your volume down by turning your face into the mattress, your moans muffled as you snapped back to met his every thrust. His hold in your hair slipped as he gripped your hips with both of his large hands, pounding into you with vigor he's never presented before.

He was in a trance watching the way his dick disappeared between your cheeks, coming out coated with your sheen all over him and trickling down your thighs.

"Spank me, please."

He was thrown off by your sudden omission, genuinely scared of hurting you now. "What if It's too much?"

"Just smack my ass around a little bit baby, I promise I'll feel good." You crane your neck back slightly, Michael catching the playful glint in your gaze.

He had his doubts but he wanted to fulfill your desires to the fullest— the perfectionist in him not allowing anything less. His hand winded back slightly before coming down hard on your flesh, your pussy instantly clenching around him.

He brought his hand down once more in time with a sharp thrust, making you cry out in pleasure, practically drooling from the feeling. Michael was shocked discovering how nasty you were during sex, and the fact you hid it from him this whole time.

His hand snaked down to rub your clit, sending a jolt through you. If not for his arm wrapped around you, your body would've gave out, overwhelmed in pleasure.

It was impossible to keep his gaze off of where you connected, the clap of your ass on him was addictive and the way you were creaming around his dick had his orgasm approaching fastly.

You were a babbling mess underneath of him, desperate to reach your climax as you felt it creep up on you. The duel feeling of Michael's dick fucking into your sensitive spot deeply and his thumb swirling around your clit was too much, and your peak hit you suddenly.

You cried out as you trembled around him, squeezing his dick so tight he was moaning with you as you rode out your orgasm, slumping slightly as you sighed in bliss. Michael only had a few desperate and uneven strokes in him before he barely had time to pull out, groaning as his hot seed spilled down your back and thighs.

He took a moment to catch his breath before kissing your shoulder and shuffling around to grab a warm rag to clean you off.

"Y'know, I think I learned a lot about you tonight." His soft spoken voice flowed from behind you, a teasing tone laced in as he dragged the cloth down your back and thighs.

"Oh yeah? What did you learn?" You teased back, moving your hair around to look back at him. He met your gaze with a faint smirk.

"How you really like to get down."

You laughed at him, his own bubbly laugh following suit.

"What can I say? My man is sexy and I got the hots for him!" He chuckled at you, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips.

"C'mon, let's go shower, baby." He wrapped a hand into yours and helped you get up on wobbly knees.

"Perfect, now we can fulfill another dream of mine in the shower." You smirked at him as he ducked his head down, shaking it with laughter.

"You're going to ruin me, girl."

with the comic secure under his arm he paces around his room in case he thinks of anything else to bring out with him, and in doing so he passes by his window. his eyes instantly narrowing down at where you sit on a beach towel laid out on one of the pool's sun loungers. stilling and watching as your manicured hands apply tanning oil to your legs, you had already applied it to the upper half of your body while he was still out there, before he jumped out of his own sun lounger upon realizing that he forgot the one thing he's been talking about nonstop.

"don't be gone for too long, mikey. 'm gonna need your help with my back," you had yelled after he started jogging to enter the estate. your comment had been said too casual for michael, when in reality it is normal for the two of you to rub each other down in sunscreen (and tanning oil in instances like yours) since the two of you were children.

but now michael is staring down at his hand. the same hand that has touched your soft skin too many times to count, and countless times in this past summer alone. but each time still has hands shaking each time at the thought of having to smoothing his fingers past the thin straps of your bikini top. the same hands that touch you often have to come down an readjust himself in his pants, and now is not an exception, cursing himself for wearing jeans right now.

lifting his gaze back up to peer outside the window once more, his large eyes land on your figure laying on the sun lounger, a pair of sunglasses shielding you from the bright sun, although he knows for certain your eyes are closed behind the glasses. admiring the state of peace you're in right now and how the time you've spent under the sun throughout the sun creates a glow to your brown skin. he'd often joke with you that you're the angel in his life, the first time he ever told you that you had pushed his shoulder and said "you're being cliché" with a wide smile on your face. but he didn't care how cliché it sounded, he meant every word. since the day he met you, you whisked him away to a safe heaven meant for just the two of you.

which is what makes the guilt worse as his hand snakes down to his bulge that the two of you wouldn't have met if it weren't for your father, the same man who protects his safety and wellbeing fiercely and who he views as a father figure. but you're just too tempting.

that's when his head snaps over his shoulder to spot the camera sat on his shelf. striding over to the shelf, tossing the comic on his bed, and reaching out to take the camera in his hands before making his way back over to the window.

he's breathing heavily as his hands shook while raising the camera to his eyeline, "this is so wrong," he hushes out but there's barely an ounce of real guilt in his voice. swiping his tongue over his lips before biting down on his bottom lip as his finger hovers over the shutter button before actually doing the action. because he can lower the camera and place it right back on his self, pick up the comic he flung on his bed and go back downstairs to you.

but through the camera lens you move just a bit, readjusting yourself into a more comfortable position as you let your head lull to the side, exposing your neck just a bit. with the adrenaline pumping through him and banging through his ears, his finger presses downs.

click.

exhaling through his nose, it's done. bring the camera down to his abdomen, peering at you without the obstacle of the camera lens to make sure you're just as peaceful as before he'd taken the picture. and when you are his pace slows, thinking there's no real harm in taking another, or a few more as he brings the camera back up again.

the soft padding of shoes against grass piques your interest enough for you to raise your hand to lift your sunglasses up, showing off your pearly whites when it's you're mikey, "perfect timing! i've gotta flip over." completely unaware of the film sitting in michael's camera that just captured you.

and he feels bad! trust and believe he does! just particularly not when he has the skimpy material of your panties wrapped around the head of his dick. of course making sure that the gusset is perfectly pressed against his leaking tip, the mere idea that they've been worn by you makes michael burn from the inside out.

he should feel like the worst person ever getting off to his bestfriend, you've been nothing but sweet and kind to him. being his endless light when he had nothing else to look forward to. and this is how he repays you? by stealing you panties, wrapping them around his length till the opaque material turns translucent from his arousal, until he's left nothing less than a mess. chest heaving, eyes screwed shut, and fist pumping at such a pace the squelching doesn't even make him embarrassed.

it's only when he opens his eyes and looks down at his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, that he begins to feel a little guilty at the sight of your panties (that he can only imagine you're rummaging through every corner of your room looking for) covered in his spent. the true guilt of his sinful act only burdens him when he's balling up your panties and stuffing them down beneath all the trash in his bathroom, praying that no goes searching through it.

michael always has to take a shower after he touches himself, simply washing his hands and himself up won't work. so, when he's met with the reflection of himself in the mirror, expecting to be met with remorsefulness. he'd go and tell you everything, about how your panties haven't just vanished out of thin air, but how it's been him, and he'd beg and beg on his knees for you to forgive him . . . but alas, he's meet with his mirrored reflection with riddled thoughts that tell him he must sneak another pair.

"i'll be jus' a minute, mikey!" you shout from across the hall as you enter the bathroom. you're getting changed into you pajamas since this movie night is being held at your house. it's been something you've been looking forward to all week, preparing snacks for you and michael as you curated the perfect movies to watch tonight.

and the only thing michael can mutter out is a meek "okay," his eyes trained on your dirty laundry hamper since the moment the two of you walked up those stairs and he plopped himself on his bed. swallowing the lump in his throat as he adjusted himself below his flannel pajama pants, cursing himself because he doesn't want this movie night to go the same as the last before it, or the one before that one. where his poor dick would be so strained against the confines of his briefs and flannel pants, so much so that you where questioning him on why he's so tense, not knowing that you soft touches on his arm would make him bolt from the sofa and make a beeline to the bathroom.

it doesn't take michael long to ditch all efforts of self control by digging his dull nails into the fuzzy material of his pajama pants. standing up from your bed and making quick strides to your dirty laundry hamper in the corner of your room.

he couldn't tell from where he sat on your bed, but he can clearly tell now from where he stands. the little pink slip of material peeking past the opening of the hamper that caught his eye wasn't the normal cotton material of your panties, but instead was made of delicate lacy designs. blood rushing to his pants as a large hand reached to take (steal) the intimate. calloused fingers wearily brushing against the material of the panties just in case it poofs away right before him. but when those same fingers hook around the waistband of the panties and pull them from before trapped underneath your hamper's top, michael lets out a huff.

peaking over his shoulder and out into the hallway to make sure you're still in the bathroom and bill and your mom are still in their bedroom. turning back to inspect your pantie in his grasp when the coast is clear.

and what other way inspect the garment than for him to bring it up to his nose and inhale? the eyes you compliment just about every single chance you get flutter shut at the sweet scent of you, a muffled groan escaping its way past michael's lips.

it's wrong.

used to repeat in his mind when he first started stealing you panties, but at some point he started questioning if it was so wrong, why did it feel so right?

maybe it's sick of him, selfish even. especially when you come to him as your best friend, genders put aside, about the odd phenomenon of various pairs of your panties going missing. of course the best friend he is he consuls you, telling you maybe you guys need to get your dryer checked out since he does remember a few years ago pieces from each of the jackson family members going missing, all for it to be found in the crevices or behind the dryer. he'd even go as far as to tease that that there's a stealing ghost haunting your home. laughing when you swat at him as you slump further into your bed, pouting about your favorite pair of panties, the pale pink one with tiny strawberries all over it, going missing. except unbeknownst to you, michael goes quiet, reminiscing over messing that pair up with his spent.

the only thing that really matters in his mind right now is when you've bought these lacy panties, and if you have more, and who you bought them for. flashes of green and envy at the thought that one of those college boys you've been talking to got to see you all pretty in this pair before he ever got to.

he tries not to worry himself with thoughts like that often, especially not as he stuff the panties in his pajama pants pockets and waltz over to sit back down on your bed.

and especially not when he's the one who ruins all your panties for other men.

It was a hot summer day in Encino. August 11th, 1979. You and Jackie were so close to finally getting to that last base, but there was a little interruption. Michael. The way Jackie was so delicate with you that night, the way his deep voice sounded so focused on you and your pleasure, cemented the idea that today was the day you decided you and Jackie were going to go all the way. You and Latoya were still very good friends, all the way from elementary school. She invited you to a pool party to celebrate Michael’s album release for “Off The Wall.” You had heard some of the songs, and loved every one of them, even buying the vinyl the day it came out. Although you kept all of this a secret from Jackie. You thought you had to.

You carefully packed for this little rendezvous planned with Jackie, thoroughly. The night before the party, you and Latoya had done your nails, painting yours a seductive red that looked eye-catching with your skin tone. You also bought a foxy, cheetah-print string bikini that held up your full, perky breasts, and a thong that showed off your perfect, round ass. Tight and plump like a peach. You shaved completely everywhere, except leaving a landing strip on your soft and smooth mound. Your legs appeared as if they were dipped in honey. Slick and smooth with a shea butter lotion after you hopped out of the shower.

You smelled of a sultry scent, a spritz of your warm vanilla perfume. The intoxicating aroma trailed behind you as you strolled down your driveway to the Jackson’s family driver. Once you made it to the Jacksons’ house, there were not as many people there as you assumed there would be. They still managed to maintain a sense of privacy even upon the release of Michael’s very successful album. It seemed to be exclusively friends and family. They had his album playing in the background, and as you arrived, “Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough” was playing over the speakers. Latoya was standing in front of the gate, waiting for you, squealing when she saw you exit the driver’s car. She pulled you in for a tight hug, gushing over you.

“Girl, you look so good! Jackie is going to love this look. The rest of the family is inside in front of the pool. Come on in! Come on in!”

She giggled as she skipped inside with you, her hand holding yours. Once inside the gates, all of the boys picked their heads up from their game of spades to say their halfhearted hellos. Jackie stood up smoothly with a clear glass full of whiskey in his hand, greeting you personally. He was wearing his black swimming trunks and shades that hid his eyes from tracing your body.

His frame was rippling with muscles, in the best shape of his life, one could say. His pectorals would twitch and bounce with each step, especially as he hugged you closely. You could tell he had a couple of drinks before this one; his breath was thick with the strong whiskey. Michael looked up at you as well; his gaze held a little longer than the other boys’.

The longer he looked, the more he focused those big eyes on those thick thighs, that round ass, and most of all, your beautiful face. He was so entranced, he didn’t bother to say hello; he didn’t say anything. His body said it all, feeling his guard go up after seeing how Jackie was interacting with you. He definitely didn’t like it. He had the pinging urge to make you his. But how?

Jackie wrapped his arm around you, feeling over your waist, hugging every curve. His hand slowly saunters down towards your ass, his large and demanding hand, cupping it rather roughly. All while he leans in to give you a slow, sensual kiss on the lips in front of the other boys. Marlon, Tito, Jermaine, and Randy all chanting, “Jackie! Jackie! Jackie!” as if they were cheering on their favorite sports team. All of them, but Michael. Michael sat there and looked up from his novel about the Wizard of Oz, scanning you two as a couple. After Jackie was finished making out with you passionately, he made sure to make eye contact with Michael. Reminding him of who you belonged to. Michael’s jaw tensed, showcasing that strong jawline of his, his acne nearly gone.

The party proceeds as normal, with you talking about your relationship with Jackie, other boys at school, and the adult parties Latoya has been to since Michael’s success. All while Jackie continues to drink heavily and pour himself shots of whiskey, not really paying you too much mind since you had your girl talk. Jermaine started to notice Jackie beginning to nod off from his drunken stupor, slurring his words when he spoke to his brothers. Jermaine announces that Jackie has had enough and suggests that he go inside to rest.

“Mama! You gonna let ‘maine kick me out like that? You gonna come inside with me?”

He spoke to you rather roughly, something you did not like. It turned you off, and you shook your head at Jackie’s request to follow you. “He was just going to fall asleep on you anyway,” You thought to yourself. So, you nodded in agreement with Jermaine.

“He’s right, Jackie. Just go up to your room; I’ll be up there in a bit, okay? I’m enjoyin’ myself. Just try and sober up ‘fore I get up there.”

“I’d better see your foxy self up there, mama. I’ll come down and get you if you don’t, you dig me?” He said with a joking smirk.

You just rolled your eyes and nodded to him as Jermaine walked him up the stairs into the mansion. Michael and Marlon also seemed to be displeased with Jackie’s behavior. Looking at each other from the corner of each other’s eyes. Marlon stood up from his lounge chair and walked towards the pool, yelling out “Marco Polo!”

You were, of course happy to play, standing up and stretching out your body. Trying to get the slight crick out of your neck, Michael stood up next to you. Just needing an excuse to be near you.

“I-.. I could play too. I’m really good. I’ll bet I could catch you in ten seconds flat, beautiful.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll just see about that, Mikey.”

This was an innocent nickname to you, although he could feel his heart accelerate a little faster at this innocent nickname. Even more so when he stared, watching you walk away. The way your hips swayed made every step from you result in another jiggle or ripple arising on your perfect bottom. Michael shyly tugged at his shorts, pulling at them a bit to make room for his pulsing cock.

“Oh god, give me strength.”

Michael whispered under his breath as he yanked at his shorts, sneakily staring at your gorgeous backside. As you walked to the water, you could hear Michael utter something under his breath, making you twist around to ask him to repeat it.

“You say something, Mikey?”

“N-No, I didn’t say nothin’”

Once you finally reached the water, getting acclimated to the rules, Michael started the game off. He was nominated to go first, since he was the reason you all were gathered here today.

“Marco!”

He said with a large smile plastered on his face as he stumbled and tripped at times under the water, listening to all of the different voices calling out.

“Polo!”

You all responded in unison. He knew he was listening for your voice the most, though, following you closely. You had to hand it to him, he was pretty good at the game. Or maybe just good at listening for you. Just as soon as he finally caught up to you, he reached his hand out to touch you, sensing he was close to you. That vanilla scent of yours grew stronger and stronger inside his nostrils. The scent only enticed him to get closer, anticipating the warmth of your body right in front of his.

You could feel his large and slender fingertips land right on top of your chest. His elegant fingers rested right on top of your cheetah print fabric, gently cupping your full breast. Suddenly, his smile wavered and dropped. Still, he didn’t open his eyes, circling his thumb around your erect nipple. That feeling sealed it for him. He didn’t want to believe what he was touching, but he had to.

Once he opened his eyes, they went wide, wider than usual. The poor thing looked like a deer in headlights, but he still didn’t seem to want to pull away.

Suddenly, he yanked his palm away from your breast, feeling his head reeling, more dangerously, feeling his length grow even larger in his black swimming trunks. He had to get out of this water, or else you would possibly brush up against him and feel what had been growing for you for so long.

“I-I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed. Oh gee... I-… I have to go...You all just keep playing without me, alright? I’ll be right back, promise.”

He beamed a wide smile at you, obviously a nervous one, as he chuckled in his usual high-pitched melodious tone. He stuttered and slipped up his words; it sounded so adorable.

You didn’t even get the chance to explain to him that it wasn’t a big deal. He immediately thought he ruined the entire game because of his slip-up.

You decided to give him a bit of space to run into the pool house and settle down from this small incident. Although you couldn’t help but feel the need to follow.

You all went back to playing for at least five more minutes, and Michael still hadn’t come out yet. You decided that enough was enough. You needed to go and comfort him. So, you lifted yourself out of the water, body dripping wet, bikini sticking to your skin, clinging to the curves on your hips. You began wandering towards the pool house that was just on the other side of the yard and planted a firm knock on the door, waiting for Michael to answer you, but no response.

“Mikey? You in there?”

You peeked into the peephole in the door, but not a thing could be seen. So, very slowly, you pushed against the door, and it gave way. Michael was inside, standing in the middle of the room, stroking his long, girthy cock before you. His soft, high-pitched whimpers filled the pool house, along with the lewd and sloppy noises of both of his large hands moving up and down his rock-hard dick. Sweat began to collect on his forehead, his curls sticking to his sweat-coated head. He must have misjudged how incredibly pent up he was from working in the studio day and night. Your seductive voice, your gorgeous body, and his impure thoughts got the very best of him. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, thinking about having the pleasure of digging deep into your intoxicating hole. His bottom lip disappeared under his top row of teeth, biting down so hard, it could draw blood.

You could tell his dick was heavy, hearing it slap against his slick and flat stomach each time he let it go from his grasp. Once he opened his eyes and picked up his head to face you, he didn’t stop. If anything, he just stared at you. His desire for you finally bubbled over. Michael continued satisfying himself, using your body for reference this time, just staring.

His thick tip was polished with his own pre-cum, and began dripping down on the floor beneath his feet. Flashing a half-innocent smirk at you. He thrusted his hips into his hands, showing you what you could have at any time if you just said the word. His large doe eyes never left your gorgeous brown irises.

“You… You found me-… You enjoyin’ the show? Mm… Seein’ you and Jackie like that…”

He sucked air through his teeth as he began to thrust into his palms, peeking up at you from under his lashes. You could feel your mouth practically going dry, just shocked at the sheer length of this scrawny boy from Gary, Indiana.

“I’m not as experienced as Jackie, but… I can learn… I can make you feel better than Jackie… Any man… What’s he been doing for you? I bet-…”

“Me and Jackie haven’t had sex, Michael… not yet… truth is… I’m not that experienced either.”

You cut him off, holding your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking and let you finish for once. You were closing the space in between you two, feeling the heat of his body as you got closer. He was obviously trying to act like such a hot shot that he didn’t take into consideration that you, as well, were inexperienced.

“Well… I thought if he got a gorgeous girl like you…He must be doing something right… I guess I’m just jealous. You must think I’m a schmuck, huh?”

Suddenly, you began to close the space between you two. The closer you got to Michael, the more you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His cock twitched in your direction as he beckoned for you to come closer with his index finger. He made sure to keep that boyish smile for you as he watched his temptress get closer and closer to him.

“I don’t think you’re a schmuck at all, Michael. If anything… Y’know I do want you too.

You’re so much different than Jackie. A good different…

I-… please make me feel good. Show me how much better you are than Jackie, Mikey.”

“Just watch me. I’ll show you, dollface... You sound s’ pretty when you ask me like that. C’mere.”

You did exactly as he said, inching closer and closer to Michael as he beckoned for you. You allowed the tension to build as the inches turned into centimeters, and the centimeters turned into no space at all. Michael traced his elegant fingertips across your jaw, staring deeply into your gorgeous eyes. He groaned, feeling his cock twitch from just looking at you, really seeing you. His breath caught within his chest, leaning gently into your lips, allowing his breath to linger over your lips as he spoke.

“You’re just beautiful. I’m hard just lookin’ atcha.. Can I kiss you? I want them lips on mine s’ bad, princess.”

“Of course you can, baby. Please, Mikey, kiss me…”

Your voice broke, sounding almost pathetic as you desperately called out for Mike to kiss you. You knew what this kiss would lead to. The both of you stated what you wanted from each other, or, rather, your bodies did it for you. Michael crashed his lips against yours, holding your jaw in his sizeable hand. He caressed your cheek with his thumb as you both toppled over to the cot in the poolhouse, falling right on top of him.

You must have lost your footing as both of you became distracted, engrossed in each other’s sweet taste.

Michael chuckled breathlessly at the feeling of you finally on top of his lean and wet body. His slick tongue trailed against yours, just needing to exchange as much saliva with you as he could, needing you to taste all of him. Michael’s hand wrapped around your throat as he swirled his wet and hot tongue around yours, lightly squeezing the sides of your delicate neck. He loved how delicate you looked; it only made him want to get you all the more dirty for him.

“I wanna taste you, lemme get a taste a’ you, pretty baby. Your lips taste so sweet… I can only imagine that kitty…”

That sentence he uttered in your ear made you blurt out a chuckle. A hearty one at that. You would never have assumed Michael had the ability to speak this way. He smiled at your adorable laugh, flashing you that adorable boyish grin. He didn’t care about making a fool of himself at this point; he just loved making you laugh. Listening to you laugh made him melt. He was at your mercy.

“Just need you to fuck me, Mike.

C’mon…she’s ready for ya…”

“And I’m ready for her… Lemme prove to you how ready I am… lemme try somethin’… make her feel good…”

You slowly rolled your back down onto the cot as Michael gently pushed you down by your stomach. As you did this, he gently raised your legs so they would easily wrap around the sides of his head, resting on his shoulders. He loved feeling those thick, warm thighs against his ears, feeling you tense up as he teased you. Michael started by seeing how you would react to him, running his fingers up and down against your bikini bottoms, noticing the damp, needy spot around your hole. You were leaking that honey he wanted to taste so damn bad. He circled his tongue around the wet spot of your crotch, allowing you to feel his wet muscle against the thin fabric, his breath felt warm and welcoming. Your own whines filled the room, anticipation creeping out throughout your body. As your breathing slowed, you prepared yourself to feel Mikey’s warm fingers pressing against your skin. He slowly hooked his fingers around the sides of the bikini bottoms, finally pushing them to the side, and finally laying his eyes on your beautiful, leaky pussy up close and personal.

“She’s so pretty… You were gonna let Jackie have this pretty kitty? He don’t deserve it. Use my tongue, mama… It’s yours… I’ll worship her… just watch me.”

He couldn’t help himself but to plant a soft kiss against your pretty pussy, the hungry kisses were masked by his inhales, just taking in your sweet scent. His nose circled around your clit as he began planting soft kisses against your hole, all while his hands reached up between your thighs just to slowly yank that cheetah print bra down, exposing your full breasts.

His thumb once again circled around your right nipple. Needing to present his love towards your warm and full breasts. He wanted you to feel him all over that perfect body of yours. The very body that had him whining and calling out to God just from witnessing it from afar.

“Shhhhit… sss… Mikey… Stop teasin’ me…”

You gripped the back of Michael’s head, fingers twisting around the coils in his afro. Suddenly, you spread your legs, allowing Michael more access. You must’ve wanted this man so bad, you gripped the back of his head, yanking him closer to your pussy, needing his tongue fucking your slippery hole. You felt yourself stick out the tip of your tongue, subconsciously, lost in how you’d like him to move his thick tongue against your flower.

He could tell you were getting antsy, so he obliged. Sticking out his tongue, moving his wet pink muscle up towards your deliciously sweet clit. He puckered his lips against your adorable button, sucking and producing saliva to get you even more slick. Gripping onto his coils tighter, you began arching your back against his lips, needing to grind against them.

The wetness between your legs began to run down his chin and jaw, pooling at the bottom of your ass as he lapped up your wetness. As he was doing this, he tried to stealthily grind his bulge against the cot, trying to satisfy or release any pressure from his cock. Your begs earlier for his dick suddenly started to mesh into his own inner thoughts. “Just slip it in. It’ll feel so fuckin’ good.”

But he had to keep tasting you, needed it. He wanted you to release that delicious cream all over his fucking mouth right now before he even thought about slipping his pretty mauve cock in that tight pussy.

He traced his long and skinny finger around your tight hole, gently adding pressure and slowly pushing them inside as he sucked that pulsing clit. He hummed a low melody against your pussy, adding rhythmic vibrations against it as he ate you. Moving his fingers to the rhythm of his hums. In and out. In and out. Slowly, so he could hear that sticky clicking noise he loved, it drove him up the wall. Because of how wet you got for just one finger, he added another, curling two fingers up inside you as he watched you squirm and gasp for air.

“That kitty talkin’ ta’ me… Whatchu think she wants, huh? Tell me in that pretty voice..”

“She wants you… only you… give it to me… please”

“Cum on these fingers first… Fuck yourself on my fingers… then let me lick you clean… Come on, pretty thing. I feel you at the edge… You’re so close, dollface.”

These words from that soft voice made you whimper out loudly in the air. You arched your back and pushed Michael’s head back in between your thighs. The signal for him to eat you like he hasn’t before. Your legs shook as you started to ride out your orgasm on his pretty face, clutching those curls.

You needed to make such a mess on his face, and you felt proud about being able to give him the creamy dessert he wanted so badly. His fingers stayed consistent, not speeding up, but keeping a steady in and out stroke. He only went deeper, slamming his two fingers in and out. He curled them sharply, hitting that spot, feeling the pressure build. His groans grew louder as just watching you, made him leak pre-cum through his swimming trunks, right onto the cot.

“God, baby. Take those fingers… ugh… You doing s’ good…”

Your breathing hitched as sweat started to run down your forehead, breasts, and down those scrumptious thighs. Michael switched his fingers, moving them to your clit, rubbing three of his finger tips around it in a tight circle. That thick tongue of his traced down your slit, finally being engulfed by your wet pussy hole, thrusting it in and out. He caressed your clit fast, then slow, allowing some variety in his technique.

“Fuuu…ck… Mike! Mike! I’m there! Here it comes… take it all…”

You groaned out loudly in the air as you arched your back into his ready mouth. He managed to collect all of that sweet honey on his tongue, moaning at the sweet taste of you. He pulled your ass cheeks closer, making you slide your entire body up to have that pussy suffocate him. He sucked you clean; the sound of him suctioning onto your clit rang so loud in your ears. At this point, the overstimulation was driving you crazy. You still had it in you to take that thick meat of his. Finally, you were clean, and he rose up from your legs, his lips and chin glistening with your mess. All ready to make you dirty again. Your chest heaved up and down as you watched him begin to crawl up on top of you, littering small kisses all over your skin. Beginning with your thighs, your stomach, and lastly your breasts. He made sure to cup one of them gently, circling his tongue around your nipple, watching it slowly erect as he sucked it between his lips. His lips finally found yours, gripping your throat as he made you taste yourself against his tongue, flicking it against yours. He truly did taste incredible, knowing that his tongue was deep inside your flower. He pulled away, leaning his head down to whisper deeply in your ear.

“Ugh… you tasted so fuckin’ good. You ready? I’m about to make you mine, darlin’

You ready to be mine?”

You nodded slowly as Mike pushed his shorts down, cock springing out instantly. He was already slick with precum, needing no lubricant to enter inside you. Holding the base of his dick, tracing his tip against your clit and needy hole, ready to claim you as his in missionary, until…

“What the fuck?! Mike!”

Jackie was suddenly at the door, holding it open with his back, watching as his brother was climbing on top of his woman, Michael’s neck covered in your red lipstick, jaw glistening with your cream, his trunks in the middle of the floor, along with your bikini top and bottom. He must have slipped through without you two noticing, since you were both in your own euphoria at the time.

“Jackie! I can explain! This isn’t what it looks like…”

But it was- don’t kid yourself, dollface. Just as you were about to explain yourself, Jackie closed the door behind him, smelling the scent of you and Michael. The smell excited him. Jackie smirked, walked up to you, gently running his large and callused hand over your jawline as you stared up at him. He must’ve also been standing there a while, just watching you two in your moment. There seemed to be a large, prominent bulge very visible inside those black swimming trunks of his. He slowly stroked at it, biting his bottom lip as he stared at you. His eyes were low and stayed on you, groaning as he stroked himself off at this sight of your legs spread and ready to receive this package of his brother. A bewildered look was still plastered all over your face. He didn’t seem mad, yet turned on seeing you like this, completely undone and needy for dick.

“You better take it, mama. You wanted it so bad… show us how bad you want his dick…”

“It’s only right if you do it, beautiful.

By the time the late-night movie marathon wound down, you realized you had a logistical nightmare on your hands. You’d been invited over by Janet and La Toya for a massive sleepover, but between the influx of out-of-town family members and the girls already cramming themselves three to a bed, there wasn't a single square inch of mattress—or even carpet—left in their wings of the house.

"I am so sorry, sis," Janet whispered, looking genuinely stressed as she surveyed her overflowing bedroom, her hand resting on her hip. "I didn't think Rebbie’s kids were staying over too. Let me go see if we can find a cot or something."

"It's okay, Jan," you said, smoothing down the edges of your silk bonnet and adjusting the satin robe over your pajamas. "Don't stress. I can honestly just crash on the couch downstairs."

"No way," a soft, familiar voice interrupted from the doorway.

You turned to see Michael leaning against the frame, looking effortlessly beautiful. He was dressed in a pair of loose red corduroy trousers and a crisp, white button-down with the top few buttons undone, his signature jeri curl glistening under the hallway light, a few loose tendrils framing his face. He’d been watching the commotion with an amused, gentle smile. "The living room gets too drafty, and security walks through there all night. You won't get any rest."

"Michael, do you have space?" Janet asked, her face lighting up.

Michael looked at you, his large, doe-like dark eyes holding a mixture of shyness and chivalry. "She can stay in my room. I have plenty of space."

Your heart did a nervous little flutter against your ribs. Michael was sweet, but he was still Michael. "Oh, Michael, no. I don't want to intrude on your privacy. I'll be fine, really."

"It’s no intrusion at all," he insisted, his voice dropping into that velvety, persuasive register he used when he was being stubborn. He stepped back and gestured down the hall. "Come on. Follow me."

Once you got to Michael’s room, you saw it was a whole different world—filled with stacks of books, movie memorabilia, and the faint, intoxicating scent of his custom cologne mixed with expensive cocoa butter and soap.

"You take the bed," Michael said immediately, pointing to his massive, neatly made king-sized bed. Before you could even open your mouth, he was already pulling a spare plush duvet and a pillow from his closet.

"Wait, absolutely not," you said, stepping into his space and stopping him. "Michael, this is your room. I'll sleep on the floor. I'm the guest, I'm not kicking you out of your own bed."

He let out a soft, melodic chuckle, shaking his head as he spread the duvet across the thick, cream-colored carpet. "I’m not going to let a lady sleep on the floor while I tuck myself into a comfortable bed. My mother raised me way better than that. Please, just take the bed."

"Michael—"

"I won't hear another word about it," he said, giving you a look of playful finality, those dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "Get some rest. You've had a long day."

Seeing that further argument was useless against his stubborn streak of politeness, you sighed in defeat. You climbed into his bed, the sheets smelling overwhelmingly of him—warm, clean, and spicy. As you settled under the covers, you watched Michael turn off the main lights, leaving only the silver glow of the moon filtering through the heavy drapes. He settled onto his makeshift bed on the floor, whispering a gentle, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mike," you murmured, your eyes adjusting to the dark.

For a few hours, the room was silent. But sometime around 3:24 AM, a shift in the atmosphere pulled you from your sleep.

At first, you thought it was just the house settling, but then you heard it—a low, ragged catch in the throat. You stayed perfectly still, your heart rate instantly picking up.

From the floor beside the bed, a soft, muffled whimper broke the silence. It was followed by the distinct sound of heavy, shaky breathing. You shifted slowly, sliding to the edge of the mattress and peering down over the side.

Michael was tangled in his blankets, but he wasn't asleep. His back was arched slightly off the floor, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow hitches. A low, wet, friction-filled sound cut through the quiet room—the unmistakable rustle of skin moving frantically against fabric. Another choked-back, high-pitched moan escaped his lips, sounding frantic and thick with desperately suppressed pleasure.

He was touching himself.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. He clearly thought you were dead asleep, his hand moving in a feverish, rhythmic pace inside his loose trousers. He let out a breathless, wet gasp, his hips giving a subtle, desperate upward hitch into his own palm.

"Michael?" you whispered softly, your voice a gentle ripple in the thick, tense air.

The rustling stopped instantly. Michael went completely rigid. In the dim moonlight, you could see his wide, terrified eyes looking up at you, his breathing coming in ragged, panicked puffs.

"I—I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice trembling violently as he immediately yanked his hand out of his pants, curling into a defensive ball and pulling the blanket up to his chin. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to... please don't hate me. I'm so sorry."

The sheer panic and deep-seated shame in his voice broke your heart. You didn't even think about it—you just slid out from under the covers and knelt on the carpet right beside him. "Hey, hey... look at me. I don't hate you. Michael, breathe."

"It's wrong," he whispered, a tear escaping his eye and tracing down his cheek as he looked away from you, his face flushed a deep, hot crimson. He was trembling all over. "It's a sin. I shouldn't be... my faith... God is watching me, and I'm being dirty. I'm so sorry you had to hear that."

"Michael, it's not dirty. It's completely normal," you said softly, reaching out to rest your hand on his bare shoulder. His skin was burning hot, slick with a fine layer of sweat, his muscles tight under your touch. "You're a grown man. There is absolutely nothing wrong with having desires."

"No, you don't understand," he gasped, his chest heaving as he tried to fight the arousal still raging through his veins. "I try so hard to keep it down, to be good... but tonight, having you right there... I couldn't stop thinking about you. I've been thinking about you all day."

Your breath hitched at his confession. Your rich skin felt flush with a sudden wave of heat, a heavy warmth pooling low in your stomach.

"You were thinking about me?"

He nodded miserably, burying his face in his hands. "It's a sin," he repeated, his voice cracking with the heavy weight of his upbringing.

"Look at me, Mike," you murmured, gently pulling his hands away from his face. You cupped his jaw, your thumb smoothing over his soft skin. "It’s just you and me in this room. God knows your heart, and He knows you're human. Let me help you. You don't have to carry all this guilt by yourself."

Michael stared at you, his gaze dropping to your lips, then down to the swell of your chest beneath your satin pajamas. The raw hunger in his eyes contradicted all the religious guilt he was trying to voice. "I... I shouldn't. It's not right."

"Is it really wrong if we both want it?" you whispered, leaning down closer, your lips almost brushing his. "Let go, Michael. Just for tonight. Let me take care of you."

A shaky, ragged breath escaped him. The last wall of his resistance crumbled under the warmth of your touch and the sheer intensity of his own longing. "Please," he whimpered, a completely different kind of desperation taking over his voice, his gaze pleading.

"Please, help me."

Michael didn't need to be told twice. He reached up, his long, slender fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you down into a kiss that felt like a dam breaking, his long fingers tugging softly on your curls.

It wasn't the shy, sweet kiss the public imagined. This was urgent, heavy, and wet. His tongue parted your lips with a desperate stroke, tasting you deeply as a needy groan rumbled deep in his chest. His hands moved down to your hips, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you fully onto his lap on the floor.

"You're so beautiful," he panted against your lips, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that made your core ache. "So beautiful baby." You reached down, your fingers finding the waistband of his trousers. "Let's get these off."

He helped you, kicking out of his pants until he was completely bare beneath you. His length was thick, fully erect, and weeping a slick drop of pre-cum at the tip. You gasped softly, your hand wrapping around him, sliding up and down the burning, heavy length of him.

Michael’s head snapped back, his jaw clenching as a loud, uninhibited groan tore from his throat. "Oh, God... baby... yes, right there, please."

You pulled your pajama top over your head, tossing it aside, leaving you in just your silk panties. Michael’s eyes roved over your rich, smooth skin, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, his thumbs digging into your hips. He leaned up, burying his face in the crook of your neck, biting and sucking on your sweet skin, leaving dark marks while his hand slid inside your underwear, finding you already dripping wet making you gasp softly.

"You're so wet for me," he whispered darkly, his voice dropping into a raspy, sinful register that sent shivers down your spine. He slid two fingers inside you, pumping them in a slow, deep rhythm that had you arching your back, a loud moan escaping your lips.

"Michael... please," you begged, riding his fingers, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. His fingers were so long, it felt so good. You couldn’t help but think how he’d feel inside you.

He didn't make you wait. He shifted, pulling you down onto his lap as he sat up, guiding his aching length to your entrance. He paused for a fraction of a second, staring into your eyes, asking for final permission. You answered by pressing your hips down, taking him all at once.

He slid inside you smoothly, the tight, throbbing heat of your body wrapping around him perfectly. Michael let out a ragged, trembling cry, his hands gripping your thighs as you began to move on him, setting a slow, torturous pace.

The religious guilt was entirely gone, replaced by a primal, intoxicating need. Every time your hips came down, meeting his upward thrusts, a wet, smacking sound echoed in the quiet room. Michael was loud—whimpering, panting, and muttering praise against your skin as he buried his face in your chest, tasting your collarbones.

"Hold onto me," he gasped, his pace quickening, his grip tightening on your waist as he felt the end drawing near. "Hold me, please."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, locking your legs around his waist as he took over the rhythm, driving into you with a breathless, desperate force. The sound of your ass bouncing back with his thrust, his muffled whines, and muffled moans between you to filled the room.

The friction was unbearable, the pleasure coiling so tight in your stomach that you broke first, crying out his name as your walls clamped tightly around him in a shattering, toe-curling orgasm.

Hearing your release pushed Michael completely over the edge. He let out a loud, choked cry, his entire body shuddering violently as he spilled deep inside you, his hips giving a few final, trembling thrusts before he collapsed against you, his heart hammering wildly against your chest like a trapped bird.

For a long time, the only sound in the room was the synchronized, heavy breathing of the two of you. Michael kept his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, burying his face in your shoulder, kissing the warm skin there.

"Are you okay?" you whispered softly, stroking his damp, messy curls.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, a soft, genuinely contented smile gracing his lips—the guilt completely washed away by the peace of the moment.

"I've never felt closer to heaven," he murmured softly, kissing you one more time before pulling you up to the bed to spend the rest of the night wrapped up in each other's arms.

MICHAEL WAS PACING, his loafers almost leaving marks on the carpet. His jaw was clenched, his fingertips rubbing against one another instinctively. He was trying to remain calm, professional and patient, but it was almost impossible.

How could he keep his cool when his girlfriend had been filming a sex scene with another man?

He had tried to put on a brave face, thinking he would not feel a thing. After all ━ acting was your job, and Michael understood that perfectly well. However, there was a difference between understanding and seeing. And when he had watched your co-star gripping your breast a little too tightly for his liking, or how his eyes seemed to light up every time your gazes met... Michael had not been able to stop himself from interrupting the shoot.

Multiple times.

A cough there, a suggestion there... Luckily, you were very well-liked by the film crew and your reputation was second to none, otherwise, you were convinced they would have fired you. You had insisted that Michael come along, an idea you thought would help him understand that this sort of scene was just… mechanical, cold, awkward, and terribly embarrassing to do. You had wanted to reassure him, but all he had seen was a man with the woman he loved. 

Now, in your dressing room, sitting on the small armchair with your legs crossed and your jaw clenched, you were tapping your foot impatiently. Your blood was boiling, and you had to bite your lower lip several times to stop yourself from saying things you might regret.

You had not spoken a single word to him since the scene had finished. There were still a few reshoots to do before you could leave and this time you had insisted that Michael stay locked in your trailer. There was no way you were going to let him humiliate you in front of everyone again! 

The sound of his shoes thudding against the floor made your headache worse. You downed the last of the vodka in your glass in one go. 

"Are you done?" you gritted through your teeth.

Michael kept pacing around the trailer without even sparing you a glance. You rolled your eyes at him, putting the glass down on the small coffee table. Your dressing gown slipped slightly off your shoulder as you stood up, revealing the bare skin of your breast. You would be back on the set in twenty minutes.

"I asked you a question," you spoke once more, cupping his chin between your fingers. "When I ask a question, I like to be given an answer."

You were more than just annoyed ━ your boyfriend had just ruined a day’s work and he had the nerve to ignore you! You dug your nails lightly into his skin, your crimson polish almost disappearing.

In the blink of an eye, his large brown eyes met yours. They were so big and hurt that you almost felt guilty. Michael was not a manipulator, but sometimes, you felt like he was a professional gaslighter with the way he could melt your anger into remorse and softness. You eased off the pressure on his chin slightly.

"No," was the only word he pronounced.

"No?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "That’s all you’ve got to say after you’ve just embarrassed me in front of my director and crew?"

Michael turned his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"’Said I was sorry," he mumbled.

"Huh-huh, that’s not what I heard. You said no, not sorry," you corrected, turning his face back to yours so he would look at you. "You never apologised for embarrassing me in front of everyone. In fact ━ all you did was act like you were the one who got wronged!"

"Didn’t I?" Michael scoffed. "Weren’t you… with him? Right in front of me?"

Your expression changed completely, an amused grin replacing your previous frown.

"You mean… him just doing his job? Because that’s what it was, Michael ━ a fucking job!"

"Well, you have to go tell him that, 'cause he sure seems to have forgotten it was just a job!" he retorted.

"You're ridiculous," you scoffed.

The pressure on his chin completely disappeared as you took your hand away. You could not believe what you were hearing. Of course, you had known that Michael was jealous ━ he literally told you so, but you had thought... once he would see... You sighed, shaking your head.

"I shouldn't have asked you to come," you spoke after a few seconds and your voice was smaller than you had wanted. "It was a mistake."

Michael looked up at you, suddenly frightened. This time, it was he who approached you, raising his hand to rest it gently against your cheek. 

"Baby..."

"I don't want to hear it, Michael," you put some distance between you two.

The space between you bothered him even more, and his old demons seemed to be returning. He was afraid ━ afraid of losing you, afraid that you might leave him for someone else. The fact that you refused to let him touch you almost made him want to cry. 

"Baby," Michael tried again, stepping forward.

You stepped back.

"I said I don't want to hear it!"

"Please. Just... Just let me explain."

"Explain what?! Explain how you managed to turn my job into a personal attack on you? Explain how you made my director question whether I'm professional enough to handle a scene? Explain how you made me feel like I have to choose between my career and you?" you exploded, letting your anger out. "I would have never done this to you…"

You hated the way your voice had cracked on the last word. The truth had come out ━ it did not matter that you knew Michael was not selfish and was the most supportive boyfriend ever ━ he could never realise that his behaviour was having a negative impact on your own career. For him, it was simple: he was a man and the world belonged to him. But for you… things were different. You could throw a jealous tantrum at him and his team would see you as a madwoman and they would move on… But if Michael did the same? You would become the problem, the woman who could not handle her partner…

And if you could not handle him ━ could you even handle your job? 

He could never understand that.

"That's not what I was trying to do," Michael's answer came.

"Then what were you trying to do? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you decided to act like a child and make it all about you."

He shook his head.

"That's not fair."

"Fair? You want to talk about fair? I asked you to come here because I thought it would help! I thought if you saw how awkward those scenes actually are, you'd stop worrying. I wanted you to see that it means nothing! That he means nothing! That the only person I think about when I'm doing those scenes is you and how I can't wait to get home to you!"

Why were men such complete idiots? They never saw all the effort we went to for them, all the sacrifices! Yet when it came to taking offence at a scene lasting not even a minute and a half in a film lasting nearly three hours about a drug cartel, in which the man succumbs to every vice ━ well, then they saw everything!

Yet Michael was one of those men who really noticed. He would always compliment your hairstyle when you came back from the hairdresser’s, even without you having told him. He would always give you flowers and countless gifts that reminded him of you. When you were suffering from period pain, Michael would even go out and buy all your favourite sweets, cancel a session at the studio, and spend the rest of his time looking after you. A hot water bottle, a massage ━ he would even go so far as to feed you.

And you returned his love time and again.

So why the hell did he doubt you in front of other men?

"I didn't━I didn't know you were thinking about me..."

"Of course I was thinking about you!" you shouted. "I'm always thinking about you, that’s the problem. I spend so much time trying to make you feel secure that I forget to take care of myself. And now━" you gestured vaguely at the door. "Now I have to go back out there and pretend like my boyfriend didn't just humiliate me in front of everyone I work with."

You could see the guilt on his face in the way he held his hand behind his neck, his lower lip sucked between his teeth. 

"Baby, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to━I wasn't trying to━"

"I know you weren't trying to," you cut him off, softer now. "You don't mean to hurt me. You just do. And then you look at me with those big eyes and I'm supposed to forgive you. And I do, Michael, I always do. But━" your voice dropped to barely a whisper. "━it's exhausting."

He stood there for a moment, staring at you, frozen by your words. He seemed to be hesitating over what to say, but no sound came out. His full lips parted, then closed again. You noticed that his hands were shaking too, and Michael had to tuck them into his jeans pockets to hide it.

"So… so this is it, huh?" he said at last in a whisper. "You’re… you’re breaking up with me?"

"What?!"

Oh, how you hated when your boyfriend would put words into your mouth. Michael was always so insecure, always imagining the worst while also being so eager to be comforted.

"And where the hell did you hear me say this?"

He paused.

"I… I don’t know… You… You said you were exhausted so I thought…"

"Well, obviously, you thought wrong," you rolled your eyes.

A shy smile instantly wiped the dejected look off Michael’s face. He took his hands out of his pockets, took a step toward you, and then held out an arm to touch you.

You dodged him, and his smile faded just as his arm dropped.

"It’s not because I won’t break up with you that it means you are forgiven, Michael," you informed him, turning your back to him. "You will have to do better than that."

You heard him exhale behind you. You completely had him at your mercy and this thought alone was enough to make you shiver. You felt him walking toward you, stopping close enough so you could feel his breath. Michael did not try to touch you again. Smart man.

"Then tell me what you want me to do… and I’ll do it. Anything. I swear."

You finally turned to face him.

"Anything?" you repeated, one eyebrow raised.

"Anything, baby. You tell me," he nodded frantically.

You remained silent before going back to sit on the sofa. Your dressing gown opened a little wider as you crossed your legs, offering a brief glimpse of your slightly damp lips against the leather. His mouth opened slightly at the sight of the thing he loved to worship most of all. A groan escaped from his throat.

"Kneel."

You did not even have time to blink before Michael had already dropped to his knees with a thud. He placed both hands flat on his thighs, leaving a damp mark on the jeans. He never took his eyes off you ━ he did not even dare to blink or breathe too heavily for fear that you might change your mind.

"Someone’s eager," you whispered, pleased. "You want to make this right, mmm?"

"Yes," Michael nodded.

You glanced at the clock to check you had enough time for your plan. Fifteen minutes left. That was more than enough to edge him several times and make you come at least three times… maybe even four, given how hungry he looked.

"You will do as I say? No interruptions?" he agreed once more. "Mm. Strip."

Michael was so predictable. You saw him hesitate for a nanosecond, a twitch running through his fingers as they tried to move. You raised an eyebrow, and that was the trigger.

In the blink of an eye, his hands rushed to his red shirt, clumsily unbuttoning it. After several seconds of fumbling, the fabric parted to reveal his rich brown chest, where you could see a few lighter patches dotted across it.

You caught your breath slightly.

You never ceased to be in awe of his body every time he revealed himself to you. You still remembered the first time Michael had done so, how nervous and self-conscious he had been. He really had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed of.

Michael resembled the statues found in Greek temples ━ those Gods carved from marble. If you had been a sculptor, you would undoubtedly have carved his likeness in stone and erected a temple in his honour.

You let out a small sigh to let him know you were appreciating the view.

His large, graceful and slender hands, with which he had written masterpieces, then moved toward his leather belt as he stood up. His movements were more confident now ━ it always took him a moment to settle in before his shyness evaporated in a whirlwind of desire and confidence. Him feeling loved and desired by you always made him feel that way.

Michael pulled down his trousers without even looking at what he was doing, his big, doe-like eyes watching every expression on your face.

Your gaze swept over his body without the slightest hesitation, following an irregular line of his vitiligo. One eyebrow rose as a patch disappeared beneath his boxer. You looked up at him, waiting patiently for him to remove the last barrier.

He licked his lips for a moment, his lower lip remaining trapped beneath the weight of his front teeth.

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics ━ Michael loved to give in to your every wish, but he had that ever-present rebellious streak that loved to tease you a little, no matter whether he was already in trouble.

"The longer you take, the less time I’ll have to take care of you," you reminded him in a commanding tone.

A smile betrayed his pouting. Without further ado, he gently pulled down his boxer ━ just the way you liked it ━ and let them fall to his feet before following them to his knees once more.

Without realising it, you parted your thighs at the sight of his hard member, already pointing skywards. It was so swollen that fluid was already oozing from it. You had to bite your lips agonisingly hard to stop yourself from moaning at the sight.

You reluctantly looked away, searching for his eyes so you could refocus on your task. Goodness, Michael must surely have known the effect he had on you! You could feel your own body responding to the sight of him, your clitoris craving stimulation. You clenched around nothing.

"Look at you…" you cooed. "So beautiful… Can you see what you’re doing to me?" you saw him nod as his eyes traveled down to between your legs. "Yet… you still don’t trust that I only want you."

You snapped your legs shut, thus depriving him of the sight of the leather soaked by you. In your mind, it felt like a punishment for him. In reality, it mainly gave you a moment’s relief as you discreetly rubbed your thighs together. You did not know how it was possible, but you were already very close to seeing stars.

"I do trust you!" Michael protested, aching to touch you. "I… I know that you love me…"

"Then why do you act like you don’t?"

He did not reply.

"That’s what I thought," you chuckled, letting your fingers traveled down your naked body. "Come here."

Your boyfriend crawled forward on his knees, stopping right between your legs. His hands returned to their places on his bare thighs, gripping his own skin to stop himself from touching you without permission.

God, you were about to come just from the sight alone.

"Good boy," you whispered, reaching out to cup his face. "Look at me."

Michael did as he was told. His eyes were glassy from love and desire.

"You do believe me when I tell you that I love you, right?" you asked, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I love you more than I’ve ever loved in my entire life. I could never want anyone else. You know that?"

"Yes… Yes, I… I believe you," he breathed.

You leaned forward, placing a kiss on his nose.

"Smart man," you murmured. "But I’m afraid you were too bad for me to forgive you already," you leaned back against the sofa, sighing dramatically as you released his face. "Mm… what should I do with you?"

"Anything you want," Michael pleaded. "Just… Please."

"Mm," you hummed. "Are you sure you can handle everything?"

He nodded desperately this time.

"Right," you chuckled. "Keep your hands to yourself, my love. No touching me or I stop."

Your boyfriend let out a whine that transformed into a moan as your hand closed around his member. His head fell back, hips bucking into your fist. You held him firmly without moving.

His cock felt almost scorching against your slightly damp palm, and it was so hard… Fuck, you had to stop yourself from getting up to ride him to climax. You applied pressure, finally moving your hand slowly up and down. His face contorted with pleasure as his breathing grew deeper and more ragged.

"P-please, b-baby…" Michael gasped.

"Shh," you stopped. "I didn’t give you permission to talk."

He groaned in frustration, his hips meeting each of your movements with desperation as you resumed your back-and-forth motion.

You leaned toward him, your lips tracing the curve of his throat, his jaw, his cheek and his nose. Every part of his face — of his whole being, in fact — belonged to you and could not escape your burning kisses. Your other hand set to work caressing your crotch in quick little circles. You did not need much stimulation to cross the finish line.

Your hand tightened around him, the pressure almost crushing his full testicles against the floor as you came, your body trembling with the sensation.

Michael pouted and whined, breathlessly begging you to bring him to the end too. Your moans were so loud that you were sure you could be heard from outside of the room.

Your heart was still racing, and your breath was still shallowed, when you came down from your high. Your mouth was still pressed against his skin, saliva drooling over it. You licked it back into your mouth, leaving a wet kiss behind as if to thank him.

When you opened your eyes again, that was when you realised he was desperately fucking your hand. Without a shred of remorse, you let go of his cock completely, thereby ruining his next thrust, and stepped back with a triumphant smile.

"Woman… you… you can’t… you can’t do t-this to me," Michael cried, frustrated. "Please, baby… Please. I… I won’t d-doubt you ever again, I p-promise, b-but p-please…"

"Oh, I know you won’t, my love," you mocked, your eyes glancing at the clock. "And that’s why you’ll have to think about your actions while I go finish shooting that scene, mmm?"

He opened his eyes, his irises twice as big as they normally were.

"W-what?"

You leaned forward once more to kiss the corner of his lips briefly.

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.