JUICY BIG FART‼️

It kept you up at night — how can a man so infatuated not want to strip you bare and ravish you till the sun came up. Not want to see you, stark naked, in all your glory, writhing and whining underneath him as he took you.

Michael had his reasons.

Timidity. Inexperience. Insecurity.

But, the largest factor of all — religion.

Michael was a raised as a devoted Jehovah’s Witness — something his Mother had instilled in him from birth. A religion built on morality and modesty. A religion that forbid sexual intercourse before marriage.

Michael wasn’t as devoted as his Mother — ever since his album Off the Wall, he had slowly began parting ways with the religion. Distancing himself as the connotations of his album were subtly frowned upon due to mentions of sensuality and infidelity — however, his personal beliefs about a higher power still remained.

He still, after his parting, believed that sex was something marital and holy — something to be worshipped and protected, performed with someone you truly love and trust.

And he did. He did, wholeheartedly, love and trust you — with every fibre of his being. But, every time your hand would trickle down his body, grazing over the painfully obvious bulge that clad him beneath his slacks — he would stop you. The guilt that washed over him far greater than any aching pleasure he so desired.

As time progressed, and your relationship blossomed — that guilt diminished. Grower smaller and smaller with each tentative touch or pleading look you’d give him. Each one cracking the glass dome of restraint he had locked himself in.

You knew tonight you’d finally shattered it.

Michael was sat comfortably next to you on the sofa at Hayvenhurst, a gentle hand resting on the curve of your clothed knee, television blabbering in the background as you watched him. He looked gorgeous in every aspect, but right now — calm, relaxed, content, it took the cake.

“Watch the movie, lovey.” His voice soft and bashful, a blush creeping onto the round of his cheeks after catching you staring.

“I think my view is better.”

Michael breathed out a huff of timid air — your quick-witted flirting always got to him. “Stop. Y’know I’ll get shy.”

You giggled next to him, shuffling closer to his warm body, “I know y’beautiful, Mike.”

He laughed, turning his flushed face away from you in embarrassment, “Can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause..” “‘Cause, what, angelface?”

Michael groaned, finally returning his gaze back onto you, a smile he failed to suppress adorning his ethereal face, “‘Cause y’makin’ me think things that I shouldn’t.”

Ting!

The lustful lightbulb sparked so bright in your brain you almost saw stars.

There was your green light.

“Like what, sweetie.” Your voice now hushed, darker, deeper — an undertone of temptation that had Michael reeling inside, “Tell me.”

“B-Baby.” He was cracking — you were certain. The way he twitched as a calculated hand fell into the tense of his lap, stroking languidly along his clothed thigh, the denim scratching along your manicured nails — paired with a small knit in his eyebrows that made him look so deliciously adorable.

“What’s up, honey?” You teased, face now inches from his own bashful one, “Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ mind of yours.”

Michael whined, deep from his throat, as you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your mouth moved slowly — trailing to his warm cheek, to the sharp of his jawline, and ending on the smooth of his bare neck. The gentleness of your lips against his burning skin had him fluttering his eyes shut — basking in the sensation. His hands moved subconsciously, once against your knee, now hesitantly holding the curve of your waist as you pressed yourself against him.

“Wanna hear it, Michael.”

He whined again, ever so louder this time, a statement of his timidity, “Baby, please.”

Your lips left his skin to move upwards, meeting his gaze once more. He looked wrecked — torn between honouring his devout innocence or letting his dirty mouth reveal his secrets.

You made the decision for him, clambering over him to settle in his lap, legs either side of his twitching hips. His eyes shot open in surprise.

“Honey, I-“ “It’s okay, sweet boy, I know what you’re thinkin’, anyways. Someone else is doin’ all the talkin’ for ya.”

Michael knew exactly what you were on about.

His embarrassingly obvious hard-on pressed into the softness of your clothed cunt — your skirt ridden up your thighs so perfectly that the cotton of your panties now resided directly on top of the boner he was attempting to hide. Despite never seeing his gracious cock with your own eyes, you knew he was big — every ridge now digging into the slick of your covered folds, hugging his length through his pyjamas bottoms.

“Let me make you feel better, handsome.”

Heaven and hell. That was the only thought that plagued Michael’s mind in this moment. Did he remain pledged to his beliefs, or was the way your drooling cunt wrapped around him, despite the barrier of clothing, enough to make him crack?

With one flex of his grip around your waist, and a breathy whine from your lips — the restraint shattered.

His lips met yours in a feverish connection — sloppy and messy. Spit coating your lips and chin as he forced his eager tongue into your mouth — hands now splayed across the small of your back, pushing you closer. His mouth met yours in a frantic motion, quick and rushed, like he was afraid someone, or something, would stop him at any moment. Your hands slipped up his body, resting on the lean of his shoulders, before sliding into the sweetness of his curls.

He truly crumbled when your hips began moving.

A slow, tantalising rock against him — movements so precise and languid he was certain one harsh buck and he’d fill his boxers right then and there. You had played this game with him before — being in this compromising position wasn’t new to you and Michael. You had once, in a state of pleasure, picked up your speed as you rocked against him, but he quickly shut it down. Telling you, bashfully, he was soon to finish and felt wrong about it — paired with a pout and blush.

This time, though, when your hips picked up a swifter pace — he daren’t stop you.

He’d been agonisingly hard and denied an orgasm for months now — every time he’d nearly get there, the devil on his shoulder telling him to carry on and make a mess of his shorts, the angel on the other side would force him to halt your hips to a stop, apologising at the way you’d whine in disappointment.

Michael let you take what you needed — back arched, hands threaded through his curls as you fucked yourself on his clothed cock, the prettiest noises falling from your swollen lips.

“Y’look so beautiful like this.” Michael revealed quietly, hands following the liquid movements of your hips, eyes trailing over your frame, focusing on your erect nipples poking through your tank-top, the curve of your breasts becoming more visible with each bounce.

With every drag he guided along the ridge of his cock that relentlessly nudged against your puffy clit — your whines got louder, only forcing his cock to throb beneath.

Michael, all too familiarly, held you to a stop.

“Michael.” His name fell past your lips in a desperate plea, the pleasure depleting as you stilled against his crotch.

“I know, I know, sweet girl.” He reassured, leaning up to press a gentle peck to your pouting lips, “M’not stoppin’, don’t worry that pretty head. Just wanna try somethin’.”

He lifted you off his lap with strong precision — settling you down to a place you’d not explored with the temptation between your legs.

His thigh.

“There y’go, pretty.” He whispered, smoothing down the back of your hair in kind strokes, “Go’head, baby, take what’cha you need.”

Your head reeled at the sudden change in his disposition — the once shy boy had magically been transformed into a confident man as the remains of his restraint settled around you.

His new attitude sent a pulsation so strong between your thighs you ground down on his — the tense of his muscle rolling against your nub in the most sensual way. Something you’d never quite felt before.

“Oh, God.” You whined — ignoring the way Michael tched at the name used in vain, not once stopping as he dragged you along his leg, lip caught between his teeth as he ogled at you.

“D’ya feel good, pretty?” Despite his switch in confidence, he was still desperate for your praise, his voice cracking slightly as he met your glossy eyes.

“Mmhm—s-s’good, Mikey.” Your voice hit him right where he needed you most — the place between his twitching legs that had been denied touch for so long.

You didn’t miss the way his hips bucked ever so slightly upwards, chasing a grasp he undeniably craved. Your hands soothed that ache — reaching forward, ever so hesitantly, to palm the bulge in his slacks.

Michael gasped, hand flinching at your side, frantic eyes meeting yours once more, “This okay, angel?” You questioned.

Michael’s lip sucked between his teeth once again, glance flickering from your gorgeous smile to your manicured hands hovering over his crotch. An act he would once deny — but not this time.

He hummed, his voice high-pitched and needy, nodding quickly, “Please, mama.”

A curse fell from your swollen rosebud at the sound of his despair — your hand enveloping around his length beneath his bottoms.

“Oh, my Lord.”

He was done for — head falling back against the plush of the sofa, eyes rolled to his skull as the pleasure washed over him. You wasted no time in pleasing the man beneath you, never once stopping rocking your hips against him, as you slowly stroked him.

The scene was erotic — a dirty array of arousal in the way he bucked his hips unapologetically into your hand, cock throbbing under your palm, as you continued to hump the meat of this thigh, your slick staining the blue denim that had trickled from your soaked panties. It was enough for him — no direct physical contact, but just the right amount of pleasure to satisfy you both.

When your thumb swiped over the oozing head of his cock, Michael lost it. Whining so loud like he didn’t care who heard — the sudden boldness depleting faster than it had come around, now replaced by uncontrollable desperation.

“O-Oh, s-shit,” The curse fell from his mouth before he could suppress it, “G-Gonna cum, lovey.” His hips now fucking up into your hand pathetically, chasing a high he’d been yearning for for so long.

In your own state of blinding pleasure, your only response was a melodic whimper, his tensing thigh hitting the ridge of your clit that had your own orgasm building. Michael, with no prior warning, came with a cry, his milky white release soaking the material of his boxers — the neediest whines of lust filling the room. You soon followed — an exclaim of his name hitting his ears, only furthering his pleasure, as you came undone on his thigh, humping him at such a speed you were almost a blur in his glassy vision.

Michael heaved as he came down from a high that had been lingering on his mind since the moment you met him — an orgasm so strong he was twitching uncontrollably. You stilled against his leg, catching your breath simultaneously, peering down at his fucked out state.

“Thank you, pretty.”

“Ah, ah, I’m not done with you yet.”

Michael swore he died and went to heaven as you dropped to your knees beneath him — eyes hungry and dark, agenda unclear to him.

It was only when you lay your tongue flat against the rough of his jeans, the ones you had once fucked yourself on, licking up your essence that clad the denim, that Michael realised how much of a sex-hungry slut you were. The tang of your seeping arousal lingered on your tongue as you lapped up the mess you’d made on him — glancing up at him through your lashes at his knitted eyebrows and agape mouth. His suspicion that you were a cock-slut only deepening as you retracted your tongue back into your mouth, savouring the taste of yourself, and kissed your way up his leg, getting dangerously close to where he was pulsating.

“Mama, I—“ “Shhh, just gonna clean y’up, baby.”

Michael saw stars when you shoved his pyjama bottoms down his thighs and latched your greedy mouth to the wet spot that clad his boxers, a crackled groan ripping from his throat as you hummed around him. Your lips, settling right against the softening tip of his cock, suckled the cum straight from the cotton — his salty release flooding your tastebuds, colliding with the tang of your own essence in a delicious blaze on your tongue. His hand flew down to cradle your cheek as you lapped up the cum that stained him — his cock throbbing once more as your hands gripped his thighs, jeans now even more wet from your eager mouth.

“Baby—fuck, I-I’m gonn—“ With a strangled cry, another irrepressible spurt of cum shot from him once more, hands tightening ever so slightly around your flushed cheek as you greedily sucked up what he blessed you with — lapping up his second orgasm like you were dying of thirst.

Only when you pulled away, satisfied with your salty refreshment, did Michael’s breathing level out — blissed out expression meeting your devilish one.

And he knew — he had never loved you more.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He’s actually never told you no and meant it, it usually means he wants to hear your voice talk real sweet and ask again. Are you spoiled? Yes. Does your attitude get adjusted? Ask the red handprint on your ass

He doesn’t force you to go to events with him but his eyes light up when you ask to go. “Yeah?” as if he’s not sure you’re serious. “Baby I’d love to have you there.” He also puts you in the most beautiful jewelry he can find and loves when you wear it to those places.

You guys have similar clothing! At first it was accidental but now you guys make an effort to coordinate from time to time. For example, he might wear a brown suit jacket and you put on a similar shade of brown skirt or pants. (Imagine having matching afros 🥹)

In my mind he likes taking pictures of you himself. A mini fashion show at home, whether he seen the clothes you picked up or not. “You like it? Or is it too short?” “No I like it a lot *snap* “Bend- I mean turn around…” *snap*

You get access to things before they drop. From clothes to copies of physical media. “Yeah my girl already has that” he smiles struggling not to brag more but he can’t help but feel his chest swell up with pride. He loves that he’s able to do these things for you.

He wouldn’t dare admit it but he’s also relieved that he has this advantage in case someone else tries to steal you away with promises of material things. Don’t get me wrong he likes competition, but not when losing you is on the line.

Jackie really loves reminding you of his other “advantages” when you’re pressed into his lush mattress. “No other man can make you feel like this, you know that right, sweet thing? He slows his thrusts “ I mean they could try but…” he places his hand flat on your stomach “you wouldn’t feel it right here…”

He got a big dick and know how to use ittt! Now imagine that when combined with unlimited places to go. Private screenings of a movie you’ve been dying to see? Well you didn’t really see it but there’s always next time (: Record booth? Only if you can be quiet. Oh and best believe he left the talkback button on once or twice.

Wants to support your interests. Not just because he has enough money and reputation to fund them, but because he really does love you. He’s so proud when you tell him about all you accomplished and he never tries to take that from you. “Without you I-“ “No my love that’s all you. Cmon I can’t take credit for your talented self!”

“Break up with him pretty mama.” He’s laying on your sofa with no shirt, both of your clothes strewn around the floor, and the blanket your boyfriend bought you covering his lower body.

“You know I can’t! He’s nice," you stutter trying to come up with something else. "He actually helped me pay for a lot of this stuff.” You looked around at your furnished home. There was no love in there besides the love you and Jackie made. Your boyfriend liked to keep up appearances with no regards for how you felt.

“Baby you act like he’s the only one with money…” Jackie sounded slightly offended, with him you would always have what you wanted and then some.

“It’s not just the money.“ Your voice strained with frustration.

“Then what is it? I know it’s not because I don’t make you happy…or because I don’t make your legs sha-“

You ran your hand over your face “just-just get your clothes on before he comes back!”

“See look! Can’t even deny it baby.”

He gets up and dresses you, something your boyfriend has never done.

“I can do this myself.”

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to. I like treating you like a princess.”

Your heart raced. Hearing that made you want to leave with Jackie and just the clothes on your back. You’ve always said one day you’ll do that.

Just then you hear the front door knob jiggle.

“Oh shit, Jackie go!" You push him towards the back while he puts his shirt on and zips up his pants.

He opens the door but before he leaves he kisses you, grabbing your waist almost lifting you from the floor. It was one of the most passionate things you ever felt. It was almost like he was saying “think about it.”

“I'll see you tomorrow morning.” He made sure to stand there till the last second of the front door opening before turning and walking away. He didn’t care about the trouble he’d be in, all he cared about was freeing you.

The rest of the night you felt like a shell of yourself. Your boyfriend didn’t talk about anything but himself, and when he did try to reference something in your life he got it wrong.

"We'll just send it to your sister in Maryland, no big deal"

You roll your eyes.

"My sister is in Georgia, I told you that!"

"You know what I mean, anyway..."

You washed your face and stared in the mirror. It was well over a year together with that man and all you had to show for it was a nice house and nice clothes. He gave you no love letters, no nicknames, not even your favorite fast food. Jackie has given all of those things and never complained once. It was that realization that made you come to a final decision. You were gonna leave him.

Just like Jackie said, he was there bright and early.

You opened the door to see his face already lighting up at your presence.

“If it wasn’t a good morning then, it is now”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but bite back a smile. He always said something ‘smooth’

“Jackie, nice to see you man. Sorry for the early meeting but we’d get done quicker.”

Jackie slowly took his eyes from you and smiled

“You know I don’t mind coming here, seeing all these pretty things you got.”

Your boyfriend laughed seemingly oblivious to the double meaning “Let’s go this way.”

They walk down the hall leaving you there with your thoughts.

You finished some tasks around the house before you seen Jackie appear in the kitchen behind you.

“You done for the day?”

“Yeah your lil boyfriend wanted to take lunch.”

“Oh, are you hungry then?”

“Very”

He stood behind you taking the dish out of your hands before laying your palms flat on the counter.

“I usually take my time, but I gotta dine and dash”

He slowly kneels on the ground and rolls your dress up.

“Jackie!”

He licks a strip over your panties “hm?”

He does it again but slower

You already felt your stomach dip

“Just real quick honey”

He lightly sucks on the cotton material before taking them off and putting them in his pocket.

Before you can protest he latches on to your bud sucking gently and makes audible kissing sounds.

Your arms shook as you gripped on the counter stifling your moans. Your boyfriend didn’t leave yet so you had to be careful.

Jackie started to place firmer licks where you needed them most. You ended up grabbing his hair and rocking back and forth on his tongue. This earned a surprised sputter from him before he sped up.

You heard your boyfriend’s steps from down the hall, Jackie heard it too and started to slow down. In a panic you try to keep your pace, Jackie wouldn’t be so cruel to deny you like that, right? He gave your slit one last kiss before he stood up and pulled your dress back down. It was just in time too. Your boyfriend grabbed his coat from the table.

“I’m going out to eat, I’ll be back later. You coming Jackie?”

“Nah, I ate something already, but I’ll follow you out”

Jackie waited after your boyfriend left the room to give you a kiss.

“You’ve gotten to be so mean” You pick the dish back up and start shakily scrubbing.

Jackie chuckled “You left me high and dry too so it’s even” You couldn’t even look over at him as he left.

Later that night you leave your house and go straight to Jackie’s place. You knock on the door wondering if this was the right decision. You don’t even have enough time to turn around before Jackie opens the door.

“Hey mama, everything okay?” He steps aside and takes you in his house.

“yeah I j- I need you. I should’ve left him earlier like you said” You look down awaiting his response.

Jackie tries hard to not look smug but he just can’t help himself.

“We all make mistakes sweetheart, now show me how much you need me.”

You try to strip out of your clothes quickly but he stops you.

“Im not in a rush, take them off slow.”

You obey slowly pulling them off one by one. Once you’re completely undressed he tells you to lay down.

“I want you to show me where you want me, go head and point.”

“Jackie stop playing!”

“I’m not! You know I’m not always the best listener baby...”

You scoff and bring your inner knees up and apart

“There!” You run your finger over your bud and he stops you.

“I said point not touch it, you might be a worse listener than me…” He now stands over you lining himself up to enter.

“I shouldn’t even let you have this” he runs himself over your slit.

“I’m gonna leave him- no more sneaking around I only want you!” You don’t know if your tears were desperation for Jackie or the relief of saying it out loud.

“If that’s the case then-“ he pushes himself in all at once.

“Yes, yes I swear Jackie!” You wrap your legs around him and cling on for dear life.

“You should’ve been left him” he kisses the side of your face.

“I know!”

“It’s not all on you though baby, I liked keeping a secret.” He pulls out all the way and looks at you ruined underneath him.

“Should we send him a picture? I mean I don’t think he’s ever seen you like this…”

“Mhm” you bite your lip as his thumb sweeps over your clit.

Jackie places the polaroid camera so your body would be perfectly in frame.

“Smile princess!”

Only Jackie could get you to do these things, he took two photos before he entered you again. The sounds of your skin colliding was too much for you.

“I can’t hold it Jackie”

He didn’t say anything but you know he heard you because he put his thumb back and circled you firmly.

You let go with a loud cry, all the stress and tears your boyfriend caused you seem to wash away with your juices. When the ringing in your ears stopped you could hear Jackie’s whimpers about treating you so right and how you’re the one for him. In your haze it makes you giggle.

“I’m serious.” Jackie laughs.

“I know.”

He grabs the camera and takes another photo, this time of his cum leaking out of you.

You tease him and push it back in with your finger.

“You’re crazy...” he whispers as he lays beside you

“Goodnight pretty girl”

“Goodnight Jackie”

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty and you have broken up so many times that nobody reacts anymore. every single breakup starts with one of you saying it's over forever and ends with the two of you somehow sitting next to each other at your baby's soccer game three weeks later.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty loves acting like he doesn't care until another man starts spending time with you. suddenly he's calling more, texting more, volunteering for every pickup and drop-off, and finding reasons to be at your house almost every day.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty got your name tattooed on his chest three months after your "final" breakup. he claimed it was because you're the mother of his child, but nobody believed him. not even you.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty always says he's only coming over to pick up the baby. somehow that ten-minute pickup turns into him sitting at your kitchen table for two hours eating your food and arguing with you about something completely ridiculous.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty swears he's over you, yet he still knows your coffee order, your work schedule, your favorite takeout place, and which blanket you always steal when you're tired.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty still calls you “ma” even years after the breakup, but not in a co-parenting way. in a you way. it’s become such a habit that he doesn’t even notice anymore. “move over, ma,” when he squeezes onto the couch next to you. “you hungry, ma?” when he’s bringing food over. “c’mere, ma,” when he’s trying to show you something on his phone. it drives your new boyfriend insane because jermajesty says it so naturally, like it’s always belonged to him. the worst part is that whenever somebody points it out, jermajesty just shrugs and says, “what? i’ve been calling her that for years,” before continuing the conversation like he didn’t just make things ten times more awkward

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty hates your new boyfriend immediately. he doesn't care whether the guy is nice, respectful, successful, or perfect. if another man is around you and his child, jermajesty already has a problem with him.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty suddenly becomes father of the year once he finds out that you’ve moved on. he's showing up early, offering extra help, buying things for the baby without being asked, and finding any excuse possible to stay involved in your daily life.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty gets irrationally jealous whenever your baby starts getting attached to another man. the second he hears your child call somebody else funny, cool, or their favorite, he's planning the most expensive and over-the-top father-child day imaginable.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty constantly says things like "i'm only here for my kid" while sitting on your couch for the third hour in a row watching movies with you and the baby like you're still a family.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty acts completely unbothered whenever people ask if the two of you are getting back together. the second somebody asks if you're dating someone new, though, he's suddenly paying very close attention to the conversation.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty keeps every picture you've ever sent him of your child. every single one. blurry pictures, random selfies, pictures of finger paintings, pictures of naps. he has folders full of them and refuses to delete any.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty always pretends he forgot something at your house. his hoodie, his charger, his keys, his watch. sometimes you're pretty sure he leaves things behind on purpose just so he has an excuse to come back.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty and you can go from arguing about co-parenting to laughing at baby pictures in less than five minutes. one second you're threatening to block each other, the next you're both crying laughing over something your child did.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty hates when you ignore him, even though he's usually the one who started the argument. he'll spend hours acting annoyed and then get offended when you actually stop responding.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty still has a family photo of the three of you as his lock screen. every time somebody notices, he changes the subject so fast it gives people whiplash.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty always finds himself sitting next to you at family events. nobody knows how it happens. not even him. somehow every birthday party, holiday, school event, and cookout ends with the two of you side by side.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty absolutely hates when your child talks about wanting mommy and daddy to live together again. not because it bothers him, but because hearing it out loud feels way too close to what he secretly wants.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty knows exactly which buttons to push when he's annoyed, and unfortunately you know exactly how to get under his skin too. that's why your arguments are legendary.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty acts like your biggest headache and your biggest supporter at the exact same time. nobody understands how he can annoy you more than anyone else while also being the first person you call when something goes wrong.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty secretly keeps every family photo, every drawing, every handmade card, and every random keepsake your child gives him. if the picture includes you standing next to him, it's getting stored somewhere extra safe.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty and you are the definition of unfinished business. no matter how many breakups happen, no matter how many times you swear you're done, neither of you has ever really figured out how to let go.