meo

　WHEN MICHAEL CAST one last glance at the clock perched above the fireplace, he let out a tired sigh. The television screen was the only source of light in the room, its images throwing muted colours onto the singer’s exhausted face.

　It was almost three o’clock in the morning.

　Michael was no stranger to sleepless nights ━ those endless nights when he would sometimes find himself swamped with work. Yet tonight, it wasn’t that he lacked the desire to sleep. For once, he was utterly exhausted.

　But you still hadn’t come home, so there was no way in hell he was going to go to bed without you.

　His fingertips rolled over his thighs in a rhythm meant to be comforting and patient. He had been wearing his checked pyjama bottoms and his old white t-shirt ever since you had left the house a good six hours earlier.

　Michael was slumped on the sofa, a plate of ice cream abandoned on the coffee table, his eyes darting back and forth between Some Like It Hot and the clock, which, over the course of those six long hours, had become his worst enemy.

　He felt as though every tick-tock was actually mocking him, a way for it to remind him that you still weren’t there and that, despite the hours ticking by, time was passing oh so slowly.

　Michael had hesitated over whether to hurl the remote control at it or throw it into the fire. He wanted to put a stop to the taunts, but something told him that you wouldn’t appreciate him destroying your Canetti, which you had paid a small fortune for to fill that wall that had seemed too bare to you.

　He regretted not having invested in a dartboard instead…

　The singer shot another glare at his arch-enemy and, realising that only two minutes had passed, threw his head back, his curls falling limp against the velvet sofa. His stomach seemed to knot up again, and he found his lip caught between his front teeth.

　You should have been home at least a good fifteen minutes ago. Not that Michael was keeping tabs on you or expecting you to come home at a set time ━ no, you were perfectly entitled to have fun, he had complete faith in you ━ but your friend had phoned him from the bar where you were partying to let him know you were on your way home…

　And that had been twenty minutes ago.

　Michael liked to tell himself that he wasn’t the sort of boyfriend who made his girlfriend feel as if she were in prison with him but ━ damn ━ right at that moment he regretted it.

　He should have at least sent Bill.

　That was what his mind kept repeating over and over. He should have asked him to come and pick you up to make sure you got home safely, but your friend had told him that you had slipped away in a taxi, and it had been too late to send anyone to fetch you.

　Michael decided to wait another three short minutes before phoning Bill to ask him to come and pick him up so they could search the whole state for you.

　If anything happened to you, it would kill him. You had been his whole world ever since he first met you a few years ago. Love at first sight, Michael had told you, and ever since then, he had been certain that if you looked up love in the dictionary, you would find your name in the definition.

　You were going to walk through that door safe and sound, Michael was convinced of it; it couldn’t end like this. He took a twentieth deep breath, his foot unconsciously swaying from side to side on the coffee table.

　Where the hell were you?

　The metallic jingle of keys was enough to dispel the fear that was beginning to gnaw at him in the darkness of the living room.

　Michael sprang to his feet and raced across the room, his long legs giving him the edge. His hands were trembling slightly as he grabbed the door handle and flung the door open. The wood banged against the wall; there would surely be a mark, but he didn’t care.

　You had finally made it home safe and sound.

　"Oh, God thank you," he whispered. "I was getting worried sick, baby…"

　You had to cling to the door handle to stop yourself from falling. Your purse had slipped off your shoulder and was now dangling from your wrist, mirroring the pair of heels you were holding in your other hand. Your eyes were half-lidded, your lipstick had smudged and your eyeliner had run slightly at the corners of your eyes. You looked like a mess.

　"’m fi… ne…" you hiccuped.

　"Girl, you’re not fine," Michael chuckled, walking toward you. "Come here, let me help you get to bed━"

　You flinched back, almost falling to the ground as you pressed yourself flat against the door.

　"Noooooo!" you shouted suddenly. "Back… off! I have… a boyfriend, mis… mister. So… shoo!"

　Michael blinked. He let his arms fall to his sides, his eyebrows gradually furrowing. He glanced behind him, as if to check that there was no one else there whom you might be addressing, before turning his gaze back to you, looking completely confused.

　"You… you what now?"

　"A boyfriend!" you declared, trying to stand up straighter. "He’s tall and… handsome and str… ong… and he will… beat your ass… if you get too close to… me."

　If you hadn’t been so heavily intoxicated, Michael would probably have burst out laughing at the way you were talking. He wasn’t sure how you would react if he made fun of your hiccups.

　He opened his mouth to try to talk some sense into you, but when he saw how close you were to collapsing to the floor, he decided to take a different approach instead.

　"Oh, you got a man, huh?" he asked, taking a step closer to catch you just in case ━ he needed to get you to bed as soon as possible. "That’s a real shame, sweetheart. What’s he like, this boyfriend of yours?"

　You beamed at the question, swaying lightly.

　"The best… sings to… to me all the time…"

　"Does he now?" Michael mused, taking another step. "And where’s that man of yours now, mmm?"

　You face fell into a pout.

　"Busy… works too much…" you answered sadly. "… but if you try anything he’ll ki… ck you!"

　His amusement gave way to a sense of guilt. Michael knew he was working incredibly hard and was rarely at home these days. He had probably never realised just how much it might be affecting you until tonight, as he saw your eyes fill with tears. Michael panicked for a moment. He didn’t want to make you cry ━ he hated seeing you sad ━ so he stepped closer and placed a hand on your forearm.

　"Alright. I hear you, I hear you. I’m not trying to steal you, I promise. I’m just here to get you to bed safely. Your man would want you safe, right?"

　You looked at him suspiciously for a moment. His black hair curled around his face, with a stray lock resting against his forehead. He was looking at you with four large brown eyes that seemed strangely familiar to you. Surely, that wasn’t normal.

　"You know… you kinda look like him… like, a little bit…"

　"Oh yeah?"

　"Yeah…" you nodded, stepping closer. "… Same eyes… same… same smile…" you squinted harder. "… but my man is prettier… like way prettier… no offense…"

　Michael let out a laugh.

　"None taken. I’m sure he is, baby," he was smiling now. "Come on, pretty girl, let's get you to bed. I promise, I'm just helping, that's all."

　You let him guide you, but you kept your distance, your body tense. He led you to the hallway, his hands firm but gentle around your waist. You were mumbling things, your head rolling down to the side opposite his neck. The guy smelled of sandalwood and musk just like your boyfriend and it was enough to send you spiralling.

　"Miss him sooo much… like so, so much… you know how much?"

　"I’ve a feeling you’re about to tell me," he murmured, walking you around a corner.

　"He has those eyes… big, brown, doe eyes that just… he looks like Bambi, you know?"

　Michael flashed you a smile.

　"From Disney?"

　"Oh, yeah… but Mike’s waay cuter…" you missed a step. "Love kissing his nose too... so perfect... and his hair… so soft… he likes when I… run my fingers through it… he even purrs."

　"I do not purr," he chuckled sheepishly.

　"’course you don’t… you don’t have nice hair like him…"

　"Right, right."

　"... And his hands... things he does with his hands and his mouth, oh━"

　"Okay! Okay, wow," Michael cut you in, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. "That's enough detail, don't you think, sweetheart?"

　"You're just jealous..." you hiccuped. "He's the best... so sweet to me... makes me breakfast in bed and lea... ves notes for me when he goes to wo... rk... and dances with me in the kit... chen..." you let out a lovesick sigh. "Just love him sooo much..."

　He gently eased you down onto the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you. Michael was looking at you with such a shy smile that he almost felt childish about it. No one had ever spoken of him as kindly and affectionately as you had.

　He knew you loved him, even though you weren’t the sort to say it every day. In fact, you hardly ever said it, but he knew. It was written in all the small things you would do like giving him small things that made you think about him for no reasons at all or you staying up all night just to have a chance to see him after a long day at work.

　"You really love that guy, huh?" he murmured, taking off your shoes delicately.

　"With my whooole heart..." you patted your chest clumsily.

　"He's very lucky to have you."

　"’m luckier…" you hiccuped once more.

　You peered down at him, your head tilted at an angle that was giving you a double chin. You could see white teeth flashing at you. Your eyes squinted, trying to focus on his face in the dim light.

　"You look... familiar..."

　"Do I?"

　"Yeah... you kinda look like my Mi... ke... if i close one eye..." you squint harder. "... or both..."

　Michael laughed at you, putting your shoes aside.

　"Must be the lighting..." he bit his lips, trying to hide his giddiness. "Handsome guy?"

　"Very..." you nodded eagerly. "... most handsomest of handsome perfectsome man..."

　"Girl, that sentence makes no sense!" he threw his head back.

　You simply hummed and sank into the mattress, your eyes already fluttering closed.

　That was the moment Michael chose to get to his feet. He stood there for a moment, watching your chest rise and fall beneath your dress, which looked far too uncomfortable to sleep in. He would try to take it off you later, though Michael doubted you would let him in your current state. He was about to walk into the bathroom when he felt a hand grip his wrist.

　He looked down at you.

　"Tell him ‘m home... safe, 'kay? He gets so... worried when I go out... Don't want him to be mad..." you mumbled sleepily.

　"Don't worry, baby, he's not mad at all," Michael reassured you, sitting on the bed next to you, the back of his fingers caressing your cheek lovingly. "He could never be mad at you."

　"I know... he likes when I've fun... but... don't want to worry him..."

　"It's okay, he's not worried anymore, sweetheart, you can sleep," he cooed, his hand never leaving your face.

　For a moment, you seemed satisfied with his words, welcoming Morpheus gladly, but the very next second a wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows and your eyes flew open, your pupils almost swallowing your irises.

　"You need to… back off... Told you I had a man... I'll tell him to... kick you..."

　Michael laughed, pulling his hand away from your warm skin. He raised both hands in a gesture of peace.

　"Alright, alright. I don't want any trouble."

　He got to his feet and continued on his way to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, as he reached for some cotton pads to remove your make-up, Michael looked at himself for a moment. His eyes scanned his face carefully and lingered on his nose. You had called it perfect, and it was true that you loved kissing him in that exact spot. Yet he was often embarrassed when you did it... But now that he had heard your drunken words, Michael couldn’t help thinking that perhaps... you were right.

You were sitting on the little couch in your shared bedroom. Michael had gone to try some of his outfits on that were planned to be worn on his tour— the team was still planning things but most of the outfits were laid out and finished up.

Michael walked out wearing those shiny gold pants and a white t-shirt. Your eyes trailed up and down his thigh, jiggling with each step, he had his hair open and his curls were pretty and shiny.

He looked so beautiful it was unbearable, he didn’t have any makeup on and you just loved it when he felt comfortable enough to act confident around you

It got worse when he turned around to show you the back “look! they even have pockets!” He said slipping his hands in the back pockets while looking over his shoulder

“Come here so I can get a better look” you smirked and bit your lip

He giggles and walked over to you

“Whaaat… stop lookin at me like that!” He said swaying a little, flustered

Your hands reached out and pulled him closer by the waistband of his pants— he was now facing you, you were sitting below him

You could only focus on the way those gold pants hugged his ass right it’s like they were about to tear

Oh how they wrinkled around his thick thighs he’s been getting thicker n thicker since you forced him to get that new dietitian

“I love them.” You laughed your hand reached around to smack his ass playfully — you weren’t able to keep your hands off him it didn’t matter what you two were doing.

“I’m glad you do— y’know, everything I do, I do it for you.” He tilted his head to the side smiling

Your hands lingered around the hem of his white shirt, pushing it up to kiss his soft stomach

You peppered his tummy in kisses, kissing turning into biting and sucking

“Ungh..baby, ..wait..” he said pushing your head off him gently, you were getting him too worked up, he was already hard

“Didn’t you say you have a surprise for me too?” His brow arching curiously.

You remembered immediately and worry settled in you weren’t sure if he’d like it or not but you two were open to trying new things

“Okay but.. I think I need you to close your eyes first.” Your eyes darted around the room to find the bag

“Close my eyes…?” Michael mumbled as he put his hands over his eyes awaiting to see what you had waiting for him

When you picked out your little “gift” which wasn’t so little you wanted to make sure it was perfect for Michael, something he’d like or something you could maybe coax him into liking

Drawers were opened and slammed shut, the closet was searched through

He was standing there guessing what you’ve gotten him— a super soaker?, a pair of shoes?, a rare collectable item he’s been looking everywhere for?

“Oh my gosh..! Is it gonna be a puppy” he shouted as you looked through the large walk in closet.

“Well.. uhm!… not quite!” You shouted back

You finally remembered you hid the bag under the bed, your footsteps stamped on the carpet as you scurried to the bed

The heavy bag clinked a little when you dropped it on the bed

“Did you buy me a new belt?”

“well it’s not really for you but it’s kind of for you?” You struggled to clip the harness around yourself

You finally got it on and made sure it’s secure.

“Okay, don’t open your eyes yet, I need to talk first.” You said with a stern tone. This wasn’t a silly game you were serious

He nodded giving you permission to continue

“At the start of our marriage you promised me we would try new things every chance we got.”

“Mhm..” he began to grow more curious

“So,.. don’t get mad at me for this” he finally moved his hands from his face— his eyes fell from your face down to where the strap was. His brows raised at the sight, he was jaw dropped, he didn’t expect this from you.

“D-do you want me to use that on you? Or..?” Michael said squinting he was still unsure how this would work

“Trust me. I’ll make you feel good” you sat on the edge of the bed and waved your hand over

He sat next to you— his thighs squished a little as they rested on the bed making his gold pants crease a bit

You grabbed his jaw and pressed a kiss onto his lips— he kissed you back hesitantly and then let you take over, you both moved to the middle of the bed. You settled on top of him and kissed his neck

The kissing turned into biting and sucking, he squirmed below you his lashes fluttered every time you licked him

“…I think .. I’m ready..” he panted as you continued to bite his neck

You gently pulled his pants off him making sure not to damage the material.

You tossed the pants letting them drape over the small couch in your room

he shivered at the cold air hitting his bare thighs, his hard length exposed and already beading with precum

You kissed him one more time before you reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, a bottle of lube was pulled out

The gel was cold as it spread over your fingers. He bit his fingers nervously

“Just relax, okay?..” you used your other hand to rub his thigh and push his leg up to give yourself better access. Michael was already very flexible so this wasn’t hard for him to do

Slowly; your fingers guided their way into his entrance one by one

“Oh..!” He flinched a bit when your middle finger slipped all the way in, his dick jumped at the feeling

“You’re so tight n perfect already…” your finger slid halfway out before sliding back in adding your other finger

As you buried your fingers in him you thought about every single time you dreamt of doing this to him— all those times you made out with him and your fingers lingered on his ass, you held yourself back afraid of scaring him away, or those moments he’d bend over and you can see the outline of his ass and balls all bunched up in his shorts or whatever pants he wore— he knew what he was doing, teasing you..

“Fuck— baby.. slow down” he moaned, he was already a mess. You had to make sure he doesn’t cum yet

Your fingers scissored inside him— each stretch made his cock leak more, begging for attention

You leaned over to swallow up all his whimpers and moans, slipping your tongue into his hot mouth as your fingers went to work on him

He tried to close his legs but you wouldn’t let him. You pulled your fingers out and pushed both of his legs up and spreading them

“Don’t be scared, I got you” you warmly said, pressing his legs back as you lined your self up

The tip of the strap on slipped into his asshole slowly causing him to arch his back, you were slightly hesitant— you didn’t want to tear him or hurt him in anyway since it was his first time doing this.

“Fuck…- that’s it right?..” it was already too much for him, he thought this is the best it could get

You lost control looking at his pleading doe eyes, deep down you knew he needed more, soon you’d make him your little cock hungry slut.

You put the full length in, his breath hitched as his head thrashed on the pillow below him

You began thrusting in him

With each thrust he moaned— “so filthy” you thought to yourself his little sounds made you feel more motivated as you picked up the pace

“Ungh!…faster..!” To your surprise he liked it, you got more comfortable and slammed yourself into him harder, hitting his prostate

He gasped and his eye twitched, his mouth hanged open as he shivered. He didn’t even know he could feel this way ever and he only wanted it from you.

“Oh god..! H-harder” he was so lost in pleasure he didn’t even care that his wife was fucking him in the ass, if anyone found out about this it would be all over the news. His head was clouded in thoughts thinking about everyone finding out he likes it when his wife fucks him in the ass? Oh how kinky.. it was so dirty to him..— the embarrassment just made him more horny.

“Yeah you like it when I put my dick in you, huh?” You removed your hand from his leg and slapped the side of his ass, he was already holding his own legs open.

“You’re such a dirty boy, Michael” you thrusted into him harder abusing his poor little prostate with your big dick

He couldn’t even speak, his breaths were heavy, he made a face you recognized all too well. His hole spasmed and swallowed the strap deeper— his orgasm tore through him as his cum splattered on his abdomen and on you a little bit too

“Holy shit..” he muttered below you, still shaking and twitching.

“You want more, angel?” You whispered seductively, he was still hard— you knew what to do

You helped him turn over to rest on his tummy.

His back arched obediently, like the good slut he is

“You ready?” Your hand smacked his ass— he jumped at the sharp sting. His skin was overheating from your touch

“Put it in..!” He was already begging for it like a good boy. Poor Michael you made him so cock hungry— hungry for your cock only

This time you weren’t gentle you slammed the full length in for the needy boy in front of you

“Ahn!— fuck” he shuddered forward burying his face into the pillows

As you thrusted into him your eye caught the mirror. You pulled out of him as he chased your dick

“Get up, whore.” You were so mean , pulling your cock out of him when he needed it— he shivered as he rose

You kissed him before forcing him over to the mirror with the cushioned stool conveniently placed in front of it

“Bend over and you better not fall.” You hissed

He obeyed your command and bent over, his ass was up in the air and his legs were spread all just for you. They were trembling as he held himself up, his arms rested on the plush stool.

Your hand rubbed his ass cheek before pulling it a little to look at his pulsing asshole

“You need this dick so bad, huh?” You said sliding your thumb around the rim of it

“Y-yes, baby..I do..” he wept below you

“Aww, what do you want again?”

Tears fell from his glassy Bambi eyes as he shook his head. He couldn’t take it anymore

“Come on..” you slipped your thumb in his slick hole briefly

“Nghh—! Fuck!” He cried and shivered struggling to hold himself up

“Tell me what you need baby.” Your thumb glided in and out gently—pressing harder each time as his walls clenched slightly

“I need… you..” he finally spat out

“I’ll give it to you since you asked so nicely” you slid it back in not too fast but not too slow his hole clamping around it in anticipation

“Ruin me.” He exhaled giving you permission to go to town on him

You plowed his pathetic ass like he was a toy— your fingers ran over his spine feeling it dip as he arched, his skin was so soft and plush.

“Ungh-ungh-ughn..” he moaned between his pants. He bowed his head down, his loose curls falling over his face to hide it.

“Nah, none of that, angel. I wanna see you watch yourself cum.” Your hand quickly reached over to grab his jaw and force him to gaze at the mirror in front of him

You started pumping in his ass faster pushing him over the edge— his eyes rolled back briefly before they almost fluttered shut but you couldn’t let that happen— your open palm landed on his ass to remind him to obey your command.

The room was filled with sounds of Michael moaning and the sound of you slamming into his wet warm hole repeatedly. You gripped his waist and forced his ass to bounce off your cock

“Fuck…-I’m…—gonna cum..!” He wailed one last time before he came all over the carpet below him and got some of it on the cushion. You stayed fucking him and destroying his tight ass

“Please, baby.. I can’t cum anymore..” he whimpered pathetically as he fell over, resting his whole upper body on the cushioned stool and wrapping his arms around it like it’s the last thing that could save him.

You knew you could make him cum one more time.

“Yes you can, I know you can.” You slapped his ass again— each smack was rougher than the last.

Your fingers dug into his perfect waist, who knew a Michael could be manhandled by his wife?

You fucked him dumb until your name was the only thing he knew

“You like being fucked in the ass, huh?”

His moans got louder and louder every time your cock hit his abused little prostate, it was probably bruised by now.

“I’m—gonna…—nghh!” He was drooling and crying, his curls were so messy now, all because of you

“You gonna cum, mikey?” You hammered into him three more times mercilessly before his neglected dick twitched as he came uncontrollably

His body shook below you when you finally pulled out

“I didn’t go too far did I?” You chuckled and rubbed his back slowly

“I’m fine..” he smiled reassuringly

Hope u liked it anon!

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You were always there for Michael, and he was always there for you. Through thick and thin, that never changed.

When The Jackson 5 started to become more famous, people often insinuated that Michael would eventually forget about you. They said success would change him and that as he got older, with fans and girls throwing themselves at him, there wouldn't be room in his life for an old childhood friend. But you knew better than to listen to them.

Your friendship with Michael was more than just a friendship—it was a real, deep, and honest connection, the kind of bond many people never manage to find in friendships or relationships. And besides, those people didn’t know Michael the way you did.

All that "you're going to be forgotten" speech stopped when you started traveling with them to shows.

At first, because you were still young, your mom would travel with you or drive you herself. But as you got older, you began traveling with them instead.

Michael was your best friend, but you were close with all of his brothers. You cared about them as much as they cared about you, including Jermaine who could definitely be a pain in the ass sometimes.

What neither of you ever said out loud was that, somewhere between the lines, the friendship had shifted into something deeper. Michael cared for you in a way he couldn’t quite explain, a way he had never cared for anyone else.

He always noticed the small things. He always wanted you close, and when you were with others, like his brothers, it bothered him—without him really understanding why. You felt the same way, but neither of you was brave enough to take that leap of faith.

So you both stayed silent, convincing yourselves it was only friendship, while missing the obvious truth sitting right in front of you.

That is how, once again, you found yourself getting ready for yet another adventure with the Jacksons.

You had been staying at the Hayvenhurst house for a couple of days so the whole packing process wouldn't be such a turmoil. That, and because, as always, Michael needed help packing. Well, he didn't really need help, he just "liked the way you pack things more," his own words.

You made your way out of the house and sat beside Michael, who, like you, was waiting for Jermaine to give the word that it was time to leave.

"Why does he always take so long? He's worse than me, and I'm a girl. I am allowed to be late." You rolled your eyes as you adjusted your tucked-in T-shirt.

"You take long because you want to. He takes long because he needs to." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

"I heard that." Jermaine's voice came from inside the house before he finally walked out.

Tito and Jackie finished loading the luggage into the trunk, giving Jermaine a thumbs up. Marlon and Randy, who had done absolutely nothing, gave him a thumbs up too.

"Time to go." You stood up, and Michael followed.

Tito sat in the front with Jermaine. Then Jackie, Marlon, and Randy exchanged a look. Michael frowned, confused about what that was supposed to mean.

"Uh... so..." Randy started. "We won't all fit." Marlon continued. "You are going to have to sit in someone's lap." Jackie finished as he looked at you. Tito and Jermaine tried not to laugh.

"Why?" Michael was the first to ask. "Blame Jackie, he keeps getting bigger." Randy pointed at Jackie. "Guys, it's fine. Really." You said. "So, on whose lap are you sitting?" Jermaine looked back from the driver's seat.

The four brothers looked at Michael.

For some reason, Michael went silent. He wanted to tell you to sit on his lap, but the words wouldn’t come out.

"She can sit on mine, it's no biggie." Marlon broke the silence. "It's only a three-hour drive. We'll be fine." You nodded and waited for everyone to get into the van.

You got in and sat on Marlon’s lap, and he wrapped one arm around your waist. Michael, sitting next to both of you, shot him a glare. Jackie and Randy found the scene extremely amusing.

Thirty minutes in, you started feeling sleepy. Both Marlon and Michael noticed. The problem was that you were sitting on Marlon’s lap—not Michael’s.

"You can lie on me. I don’t bite." Marlon said, looking at you. "Besides, you look like you could use a nap."

Michael, who was reading a book, looked up quickly.

"Thanks." You gave him a soft smile as you started leaning into him.

Michael felt his heart sink. It was now or never, he thought. Nervously closing his book, his gaze found yours.

"No!" He blurted out, making everyone’s heads snap toward him. "I mean, come here. Marlon doesn’t know how to hold your neck so it doesn’t hurt."

Your heart fluttered as warmth rushed to your cheeks.

"I’ll let you rest." You patted Marlon’s chest and carefully moved over to Michael’s lap, making Marlon roll his eyes.

"Hey," Michael finally whispered, a big smile spreading across his face. "Hey." You snuggled into his chest, resting your head on his shoulder while his hand found the back of your neck, supporting it gently.

"I’m glad you switched. Marlon doesn’t know anything about your sleeping habits and needs." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his free hand resting on your knee.

"Mhm. You’re cute when you’re jealous." You closed your eyes. "I have the right to be. You're my girl." You opened one eye. "But I'm not..." You started before he interrupted. "Yet."

"Let me take you out on a date." He said, playing with your hair. "Let me take a nap." Jackie scoffed. "Y'all aren't even whispering."

You let out a soft chuckle as you snuggled closer into Michael. He hugged you closer and looked down at you.

"The answer is yes." You gave his lips a soft peck, making Michael smile.

"How come I didn't get one?"

"Marlon, shut up."

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Absolutely pussy drunk. He doesn’t care if he doesn’t get to cum, or even undress. Your pleasure is his biggest priority. He could spend hours between your legs just wanting to hear those pretty sounds coming from your lips. He’d make you cum multiple times, not even pulling up for a break. He’d only stop if you pushed him away physically, too overstimulated.

This man is HUNG. 7 inches soft, 9 inches when hard. It’s uncut and girthy. When you guys first started getting more intimate, it took a bit for him to fully fit in with you. But when he did, you saw stars.

Rarely subs. He’d most likely have been in his earlier eras, but after that, he is dominant. He never wants you working hard during your lovemaking. He does all the work. You lie there and look pretty for him. He isn’t aggressive; he doesn’t like any type of form of hitting or pain to your precious self. His closest form is subbing if he’s too tired, but you still need him. He’d lie back, letting you use his cock. But he’d definitely be thrusting up, still doing the majority of the work.

He loves making you a complete mess on his cock. Hearing you only be able to whine and moan while mumbling nonsense. He knows he’s big, and he takes pride in it.

Specific kinks

Creampies ⊱ he loves filling you up. He can go at it many times, so his cum ends up leaking out the majority of the time. The sight always amazes him. You filled up to the brim with his cum, showing his possession over you. It also fills his small breeding kink.

Size ⊱ as stated before, this man is hung and big. When you guys first started making love, he loved that he couldn’t fit it in. How much you’d try and push your hips back to push more inches in, but you couldn’t. The small tears rolling down your cheeks from how much just his tip fills you up. He lived for it. He loves watching you go dumb on his cock and even his fingers. The feeling of you being stretched out by him makes him cum quicker than anything.

Exhibition ⊱ It’s known how much Michael loves filming things and taking photos with his camera. You both have many ‘films’ together that he keeps to look back on, especially when he has to be away from you. Whenever you get a new set of lingerie (he obviously bought), he’d take pictures of you on the bed as you model for him. He secretly has a fantasy of someone finding them. But he’d never admit that.

Praise ⊱ He’s always praising you. He needs you to know how good you take him. He’d always whisper with each thrust, “doing so well”, “you look so pretty spread like this f’me, “you’re so perfect”. He compliments you a lot in general, so he has to do the same in bed.

Spit ⊱ receiving and giving. He does it a lot to tease you. One time, he had invited you to the studio. Quincey and they were all there. Michael pulled you aside in a dark corner while producers were 5 feet away. He tipped your head back and slowly spit in your mouth, watching as you swallowed. He grinned, seeing how flustered you got. “Good girl”, he squeezed your hips and walked back to the booth, leaving you hot and bothered. But you’d always get him back after.

you look down at him, and the sheer concentration on his face sends a snicker bubbling up your throat.

he doesn't even look up, completely in the zone. "don't laugh, baby. you're the one who demanded this. and keep still."

that just makes you giggle harder. the image of this handsome man, dead serious, staring so intently between your legs with a razor in hand is just too much to handle.

before he can even ask what’s so funny, you grab your phone off the nightstand, tap into tiktok, and hit record with the flash turned all the way up. the bright light flashing directly into his focused face, and the audio blaring: "make my shit straight, bitch ass nigga."

jermajesty winces, blinking hard at the sudden blinding light. his head snaps up, his serious face melting into pure, unadulterated disbelief as he realizes you're recording him mid-shave for the whole internet to see.

he groans, throwing his hand up to block the flash while still holding the razor precariously in the other. "i'm down here doing labor-prep sanitation and you're making tiktoks?!"

you’re laughing so hard the whole bed is shaking, your bump jiggling along with your wheezing laughs.

"stop moving!" he says, trying to stay stern, but a grin starts breaking through his annoyed face as he looks back down at his work. "if you mess up my line because you're laughing at me, don't blame me."

you wheeze, wiping a tear from your eye as you finally pause the recording.

he shakes his head, letting out a soft sigh as he carefully resumes his duty, muttering under his breath, "unbelievable.”

“Well, y'can’t, honey, 'cause the kids are down the hall.”

With an eye roll, you sighed. “Ugh, Michael—they’re older now—they’re not gonna come runnin' in like they did when they were babies. They know the distinction between their rooms and mommy and daddy's room."

“That’s not the point,” Michael laughed, still not giving in. “It’s mornin’ and they’re down the hall.”

“Well, a blowjob’s quieter than sex,” you pointed out, ignoring his disagreements.

He raised a brow. “I didn’t suggest sex either.”

“No, you didn’t—but you wanna please your lady, right? Give her what she wants?” you murmured sultrily, running your manicured nails over his chest.

“Oh, I think I’ve pleased her enough over the years,” Michael countered.

“She disagrees,” you pouted, to which Michael pulled a face of faux-shock.

“She’s also kidding,” you giggled, then nestled further into him, tucking your head into the crook of his warm neck. “Ugh, baby, please let me do somethin'. What if we just have cuddly, really slow sex so no one hears a thing?”

“Mama, what is with y' this mornin'?” Michael chuckled, intertwining your legs as he shifted so that you were now both on your sides. “Here I was, thinkin' sex drive was supposed to slow at this age.”

“I don't know, maybe it's somethin' to do with having the sexiest man in existence lying in my bed.”

“’m really not that at all, honey…” he sighed with a soft nudge, because after all these years he would still never admit how beautiful he was.

“Don’t give me your self-deprecating bullshit now. I have eyes—I know what I see,” you spoke firm. “And I also know how I feel down there, so that's physical proof of the impact your gorgeous body has on me.” You giggled now as he shied away, and you had to literally tug him back when he tried to roll onto the other side in his bashfulness.

Finally, in a bid to stop your incessant praise of his appearance and partly as a response to his growing member below the silk, he accepted your proposal.

“Alright, I'll give it to y', honey, but we need to make it quick 'cause Blanket really will be at the door askin' for us if we take any longer to come down for breakfast."

You laughed, wreathing your fingers through his hair as you pulled him into a kiss. Your leg hooked over his thigh, and he tugged the comforter up over both of your bodies to envelop you in his protection.

The sex was slow and sleepy, just as you’d craved, but Michael had to speed up when he remembered that it was now almost nine-thirty. One of the maids had knocked on your door to ask a question, but she’d heard the tell-tale sighs and moans amid the quiet though audible rhythmic creak of the bed, so had left the two of you alone. You’d see to the outside world later.

angelcrescent © 2026 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡₊˚⊹ surprising u guys by writing for mature era :3 i have too many ideas for my au series pre-1990 so i never write for the later eras, but i was daydreaming n came up with this! ;)

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