risa ⋆˚࿔

Michael plops himself on the edge of his bed, the sunlight pooling through the window behind him & on the polariod he’s holding, a polaroid of you. In the picture, you’re sat on your boyfriend’s lap in an oversized tee, probably his. Your bare ass is jutted out as you look back, smiling cutely at the camera lens, your boyfriend’s hand gripping the fat of your cheek. As much as Michael loves it, it doesn’t belong to him.

The Polaroid he’s holding actually belongs to your boyfriend, your loyal & loving boyfriend. He found it poking out his wallet that was laying on the couch while you, Janet, his brothers & of course your boyfriend, were in the occupied in the back garden drinking & chatting, completely unaware of his sly acts.

Michael’s always been a bit nosey, especially when it comes to you & your boyfriend. He can’t help but despise him, hates the way he looks at you, hates the way he touches you. He’d always feel a way when you brought him over almost every-time you visited. He was still such a boy even in his 20’s, so lustful & envious yet so shy & enclosed.

He’d always ogle at you from across the room anytime you weren’t looking. The natural pout of your ripe pink lips, or the way your tits would bounce a little any time you giggled or moved, practically threatening to fall out of your skimpy camisole.

He lays back on the bed, placing the sultry Polaroid next to him so he’s able to pull of his shorts & his boxers, his eyes never leaving the picture beside him. He leaves them pooled at his ankles, too excited & frantic to take them off completely.

His cock is already rock hard, standing upright, just begging to be milked after multiple painful hours of weeping pre-cum in his pants from the way your ass looked in those denim shorts today. Thank god it was summer, he thought to himself.

His cheeks flush hot & pink as he picks up the picture again, trembling from adrenaline. He knows it’s wrong, you’re taken, someone else’s property. But Michael’s a traditional man, a boyfriend ain’t a husband is it?

He wraps a shaky hand around his meaty shaft, long n’ full veins already making an appearance under the skin from his intense arousal.

Shallow pathetic whimpers fall from his lips as he gently strokes his cock, staring at your slutty little picture, his mouth agape. He’s never been so erect in his life, he can barely wrap it around his hand from how big it’s gotten.

"God help me." He whispers, his voice box cracking.

He was obsessed with you, he’s had a crush on you ever since Janet brought you over, he’s just never acted on it as he’s doing now.

His attempts to keep his eyes out the back of his head start to fail as he gets closer to his climax, his hips bucking sloppily into his fist as he shuts his eyes, falling deeper into his imagination & less in reality with each stroke. Your name fell out of his mouth instinctively like a mantra, his cock a ticking time bomb in his grasp.

All of a sudden, his selfish trance was broken with a creak with what sounded like a door. He looks to the sound briefly, thinking it was something else. But it wasn't, it was you. You'd been standing in the doorway for at least 2 minutes, leaning against it with your mouth pried open in a teasing, judgmental manner. Secretly, you liked watching him touch himself when he knew no one was watching, you found it primal & dirty.

It was you who'd pushed the door open a little so it would creak, making yourself known to Michael.

As soon as he saw you, he shot up & grabbed his boxers to pull them up in a scurried motion. He looked like a deer in headlights, his eyes all blown out & scattered. You watch him slide the Polaroid under his pillow, thinking you wouldn't notice, but of course you did.

Before he could open his mouth to talk, you butt in.

"I was just walkin' past, & I heard my name?" you coo, your sweet Indiana accent making him even more shy.

You step into the room, closing & locking the door behind you with a small click as he sits up. His shorts are still pooled at his ankles as you move closer, taking a seat next to him.

He plants his face in his hands, stiff as anything. He genuinely looked as if he could cry. The last thing he expected to see was you, that's the last person he'd want to see him in that state.

"m' so sorry—" Is all he could manage, his voice shaky & eyes glossy as he looks at you, "please don't tell Janet, I'll do anything for you not to tell her, Im so sorry—"

You place a hand on his cheek, caressing him softly as you tilt your head with a small pout of your lips.

"I ain't gonna tell anyone, okay baby?" You mewl at him like a kid as you nod.

He nods along like he has no mind of his own, totally dumbfounded by anything you tell him. Now that you think of it, he kind of reminds you of a puppy.

"I wasn't thinkin' about you though, I promise, it was just to some Playboy magazines." He protests.

You let out a little giggle as you pull out the Polaroid sticking out from under his pillow like a sore thumb. You hold it up in front of his face with an amused expression.

“What’s this then huh?”

You watch the colour literally drain out of Michael's face as he goes silent. His pulse booms in his ears as he feels his hands grow clammy. He stammers as he tries to explain himself to no avail.

"That's not mine—" He says.

"I know it's not yours silly, it's my boyfriend's." You reply, your bottom lip drawing in from how horny he must've been to take this.

"N-no, but I dont know how it got here."

You tut, putting the polaroid on the bedside table.

“I’m not dumb, I mean look—“ you lift his hand off his crotch, revealing his hard poking under his boxers. He hisses through his teeth from the mere sensation of you touching his hand.

“You’re still hard, I know you were touching yourself to me. You’re such a little perv.”

“No I promise it wasn’t like that.” He presses, shaking his head.

You start to pull his shorts off from his ankles, startling him.

“What are you doing?” He says frantically, his eyes darting back & fourth from your face to where you’re pulling his shorts off.

“Shh, just relax.” You whisper, throwing his shorts to the floor, “I’m just trying to help you, but you can’t tell my boyfriend, you hearing me?”

Selfishly, you wanted his dick after seeing the size of it. & plus, you’ve always found him cute, Janet’s shy older brother who doesn’t talk much always appealed to you.

Michael watches you as if you’ll disappear if he blinks or moves an inch. He nods slowly in regard to your statement, understanding what’s going on. To him everything feels like a hazy dream, like he hasn’t accepted its reality yet.

You throw his shorts on the ground, leaving him in his boxers as you situate yourself in-between his legs. Your mouth salivates at the sight of him under the fabric like an incubus, ready to feed of him.

You caress his slim thighs, the stubble of hair making your palms tingle.

“Wait, this is wrong. This is really wrong.” Michael whines, dragging a hand across his face as he watches you tug at the hem of his boxers.

“I’ve always had a little thing for you Mikey, y’know that?” You say, pulling down his boxers & off his feet.

“—Always found you so cute.” You continue.

His cock sprung free the second you pulled down his boxers, hitting his lower abdomen. His tip was a deep mauve, glistening pre-cum still gathered at the top. His chest rises & falls as he stares at you, waiting for you to make another move.

You take his shaft in your hand & you can barely get it around. He bites his bottom lip at the sensation of your warmth wrapped around him. You bring your hand up to his mouth, laying your palm out.

“Spit,” you tell him.

He does as you say, gathering as much salvia as he can to put on your hand. You rub the fluids onto the head of his cock as you begin stroking slowly.

Michael’s eyes pinch shut tightly as he battles with something deep inside him. He’s tried to be holy his entire life, as unlustful as possible, following the ways of God. Not only that, but he was also thinking about how angry his brothers would be if they found out he betrayed their close friend. So many things were circling in his mind.

That thinking was soon brought to a stop as he feels something warm & wet touch him down there. He opens his eyes, seeing you bent slightly with your plumpy lips wrapped perfectly around his swollen tip.

“Oh my god,” he groans.

You swirl your tongue around his tip as you watch him squirm & struggle. His knuckles turning white as he tugs at the sheets beside him. You loved how in control you felt. You wrap a hand around the bottom of his base, not being able to take him all.

You begin bobbing your head up & down his shaft enthusiastically, squeezing him tighter with your wrapped hand as little gags rip from your throat, making him swell larger in your mouth. You love your boyfriend, but you didn’t expect Janet’s brother’s to be bigger than him. You release him from your mouth with a wet pop, stroking him absentmindedly.

“Anyone ever done this to you before?” You question with a twinkle in your eye.

Michael shakes his head frantically, his breath now completely erratic.

“No never, I’ve never done something like this before.” He admits, his cheeks flushed a light pink.

You hum in satisfaction, “you’re so innocent, that’s what I loved about you. You ain’t like everyone else, you’re pure.”

Michael’s unable to respond as he watches you remove your t-shirt, leaving you in your black laced bra. You lean down, giving his cock one last lick from bottom to top, making him wince & contract.

You stand on your feet as you push him back so he’s laying flat on his back, helpless. You reach behind you, unclasping your bra. Your perky tits fall free, sitting politely infront of him as you let the useless material fall to the ground.

“You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” Michael says barely above a whisper. His mouth falls agape as he gawks at them like a moth to a flame.

You giggle as you bend down, pushing your capris down your legs & off your feet. You follow along with your panties, throwing them onto his chest. He wastes no time in grabbing & touching them as if they’re gold. He brings them to his face, inhaling the natural scent of you he’d been dreaming of.

Never would you think you’d be standing in front of Michael stark naked. He relishes in the sight of you, his cock visually twitching as he furrows his brows. He comes back to reality for a second.

“What if someone comes? My brothers or Janet—“

“They won’t, just be quiet & they won’t okay?” You say, walking over to him as you situate yourself on his lap.

You were just about to grab & position him to your entrance when he stops you, grabbing your waist.

“Wait, can I?” He whispers nervously, pointing to your pussy.

You get off him, looking a little confused. You think you know what he’s asking for, yet you love to play games.

“Can you what baby? Use the right words.”

He hesitates before finally saying, “Can I lick it? Just wanna taste it so bad.”

“C’mere then.”

You nod with little giggle as you lean your back on his headboard spreading your legs in-front of him. You play with yourself with one hand, the other reaching out to place on his head as he lays down on his stomach. He looks up at you momentarily as you thread his curls between your fingers tediously.

He latches his mouth on your pussy instantly, lapping up your juices from bottom to top. The hums of satisfaction from him send a vibration to your clit, making you tense up & whimper. For someone who’s never eaten pussy before, he does it pretty well. Your boyfriend never made you feel this way, not enough desire as Michael has.

He continues suckling gently, moving to random places that wouldn’t usually bring pleasure, completely messy & inexperienced but so damn desperate.

“Feels real good Mikey, just like that don’t stop m’kay?” You breathe out, your thighs starting to clench as your eyes become teary.

You pinch your eyes shut, the muffled sounds of him slurping up your arousal adding to your pleasure. His hand comes up to gently grab one of your breasts.

“Right there, gonna come, y-yeah—“

Before you can process anything else, an orgasm rips through you with searing force. You arch your back into a sharp C as Michael makes an attempt to keep riding you through it with his mouth. Deep guttural moans erupt from your throat as you cover it with your hand, trying to stay quiet.

Michael sits up, wiping his chin with his wrist as he smiles in pleasure.

“You taste,” he pauses, “so good.”

You push him back down again to his original position, crawling on top of him as you hover yourself above his erect cock. You grab his face gently, pulling him in closer for a messy kiss. He’s probably been dreaming of simply kissing you for a while.

He moans into the kiss as your tongues battle for dominance, both of you extremely horny & greedy for eachother.

You reach down & grab his base, angling him perfectly with your weeping slit. Once it’s in the perfect position, you sit up & place both your hands on his chest.

“Remember, not a soul.” You remind him, placing a finger over his damp lips.

Michael blinks at you with his big brown adoring eyes, humming in submission as he waits impatiently to be inside of you. He’s excitement is tripled due to him never having sex, always having to wonder how it felt.

Finally, you start to sink down onto his length slowly. Each inch fills you up to the brim more & more, causing your eyes to roll back automatically. You reach the bottom, wiggling your ass you try to squeeze the last inch inside.

“It's so much bigger than his, fuck.” You whimper as you start to create little bounces.

Michael’s head falls back as low strangled groans rip from his throat. He’s not touching you yet, as if he’s afraid to overstep a boundary.

“You can touch me, Michael.” You say in between moans.

You bring his hands up to grab your hips, looking at you dumbfounded. He grabs you so gently you can barely even feel it. He slides his hands down towards your ass with a squeeze, a little wave of confidence washing over him.

"Like this?" he asks.

"Yes, exactly like that."

You continue bouncing on his length, a sweet ring of white elixir forming between the base of his cock & your pussy. Even if you two weren’t making noise, the obvious sound of skin slapping against skin & the erotic sounds of your mixed arousal filling the room — almost ratting out your little secret to the rest of the house.

“it's so tight,“ he manages to push out.

Never would Michael have thought his first time would be having his cock shoved deep inside his sister's best friend, he genuinely didn't know how to operate. All he knew was unrelenting pleasure, the rest of his brain foggy.

The room begins to feel humid, the unique aroma of your scents melting together to create an addictive combination that fills your nose with each breath.

Michael’s hips rut into you desperately from beneath, the thrusts becoming sloppy & erratic as he chases his release. He sits up slightly, wrapping his arms around your lower waist as he latches his mouth onto one of your nipples. He sucks with a warm gentle pull, catching the breath from your throat. He pulls you in tighter each second he gets closer, murmuring gibberish around your areola.

You hold the back of his head, running your manicured nails through his hair as you continue bouncing on him, occasionally grinding back & fourth.

“Think I’m gonna come, can’t stop.” He moans around your breast.

You pant furiously as you feel your own release crest in your lower belly, “f-fuck, me too. Come with me honey.”

Before you could move any more, the cord in your belly snaps. Your second orgasm riding through you blissfully. You throw your head onto Michael’s shoulder as you cry, your heartbeat booming in your ears as blind spots cover your vision temporarily.

Michael tried to last in hopes of staying inside you longer, yet the way your pussy tightened around him during your orgasm brought him to a sudden halt.

"Gonna come—"

His body stiffens up as he releases himself with one last thrust beneath you. He pauses before a singular, lengthy moan escapes his throat. You feel his warm seed paint your walls as he twitches, flopping onto his back as he tries to steady his breathing.

You lean forward, allowing him to slowly fall out of you. His flaccid length drops down on his abdomen as soon as it leaves you, his release dripping from you & onto his thighs.

All that was left was you & michael's bodies spent & glued together, a secret that only you two will have to hold from now on.

You look down at him, all fucked out & mesmerised by you. His eyes search you as if you're not supposed to be real. You pepper a kiss on his cheek,

"You're going to make this real difficult aren't you?"

a/n: i felt like a SLUT writing this

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You looked over to your right to see your boyfriend, Michael, sleeping peacefully, a serene expression peaking through a curtain of dark curls that fell in front of his face. He didn’t seem fazed by the thunder at all. He was in such a deep sleep that he was even drooling on his pillow a little bit.

With a sudden urge to use the bathroom, you got up out of bed, your legs still shaking from being so startled, and made your way to the restroom, trying your hardest not to wake Michael.

You seemed to have failed at not waking him up, because by the time you got back from the bathroom, he was sitting upright in bed and rubbing his face. He looked at you heavy-eyed as he tried to get himself to fully wake up.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, his voice light yet gruff. “Did the thunder scare you?”

You nodded your head sheepishly. You always found your fear of thunderstorms childish and embarrassing, but Michael always knew how to comfort you and make you feel better. It wasn’t necessarily hard for him to do when you were so deeply in love with him.

“Come here, baby.”

He opened his arms, beckoning for you to lay down on top of him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. He never wore one to bed. No pants either. He always went to bed in just his boxer briefs, nothing else. You were the opposite however, as you always wore a nightie to bed with no underwear.

You crawled back into bed and melted yourself into his arms. His arms enveloped you like a warm blanket and the skin of his chest and torso were refreshingly cool to the touch, combating your skin still prickling with heat. You laid your head directly where his heart was, the soothing sound of it beating in a nice, slow-paced rhythm and the movement of his chest rising up and down with every breath almost put you right back to sleep.

He cooed and whispered sweet nothings in your ear but they were interrupted when another strike of lightning flashed outside, startling you once again as you covered your ears to avoid hearing the roar of thunder that would soon follow. You were wide awake once again.

“Gosh, it doesn’t sound like the thunder’s gonna stop anytime soon. If it keeps going like that, I don’t think you’re gonna be able to sleep,” Michael said with slight worry in his voice. For him, it was fine if he missed a night of sleep, he was certainly used to it, but he hated seeing you go through a restless night over something you couldn’t control. He wanted to help, but what was he gonna do? Become God and stop the thunder?

“Ugh,” you grumbled as you sat yourself up, “I’m not even tired anymore. Looks like I’m not sleeping tonight.” You slumped out of Michael's grip and plopped yourself onto your side of the bed, facing away from him in a huff. You weren’t upset at him, you were upset that the weather had to be so bad right now. Michael knew how cranky you could get from lack of sleep.

Still, he persisted in trying to calm you down and make you go back to sleep. He turned to his side to face you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him as your backside pressed up against the front of him. You gasped slightly as your ass made contact with his protruding bulge, the only thing separating the two of you being the thin lace of your nightie and the fabric of his snug boxer briefs.

You could feel yourself get wet almost instantly. You shifted your legs, trying to contain the wetness that was pooling between them out of nowhere. You could almost feel it begin to drip down your thigh, and the feeling of Michael's growing erection pressed up against your ass wasn’t helping. God, it was so laughably easy for him to make you horny, it was unreal.

You could feel the outline of his dick veins and the precum seeping through. You moved your legs and fiddled with your nightie, discreetly trying to push it down so that your wetness wouldn’t spill onto him. Michael took note of that, gently pushing your hands away and slipping his own hands under your nightie, firmly grasping your hips, massaging them, trying his hardest to contain himself. His hands nearly twitched trying to avoid your erogenous zones. He didn’t want things to move too quickly.

You turned to face him and pressed your lips against his, starting out slow and gentle as you two gave each other nothing but quick lazy pecks. However, it quickly transitioned to the two of you devouring each other like hungry animals. You grabbed fistfuls of Michael's hair as you moaned softly into his mouth, his tongue gliding across yours and refusing to let go. Michael's hand slithered underneath your nightie once more and placed itself on your bare ass, squeezing it with great force. Your body grinded against his, your soaking wet folds dampening his underwear, making his cock throb with desperation. He groaned lowly, the vibration in his throat making you tremble as you felt his cock twitch up against your clit, just begging to pound into you.

You broke yourself away from the kiss, as much as you didn’t want to. The only reason you did so was because you needed air. “Michael,” you mumbled breathlessly into his ear, “please~”

He wasted no time in removing his boxer briefs and throwing them to the floor in a haste. His cock sprang free with an intense recoil, lightly hitting against your clit, making you jump with a moan. His precum created a string between your vulva and him, connecting the two of you as one.

Michael pinned you down on your back, maneuvering himself on top of you as he voraciously kissed you once more, his lips so needy and hungry for you. His hands traveled up and down your body, finding their way to your nightie to remove it completely, leaving the both of you fully nude. His large hands grabbed and kneaded your tender breasts, massaging them while he gently pinched and tugged at your sensitive nipples, making you whimper beneath him.

His lips started traveling away from your mouth and down your neck, leaving wet hickeys on your sweet spots that would certainly bruise later. At the same time, his right hand wandered down your body until it made contact with your dripping hole, collecting some of your juices to coat your clitoris in before gently rubbing it in controlled circles. You squirmed and wriggled under his grip as electric rods of pleasure surged deep within you. His slender fingers caressed your vulva further, making sure to tease your entrance while they were at it. You whimpered lightly when his middle and ring finger slipped inside of you with impossible ease, stroking your inner walls to prepare you for what was to come.

CRACK!

Another bout of lightning and thunder whipped the sky, this one so intense that the thunder roared almost at the exact same time that the lightning flashed. In a panic, your hands removed themselves from Michael's hair and raced to cover your ears as your eyes fused themselves shut. Michael acted swiftly by pulling you in close to his body and pressing his lips against your forehead.

"Shhhh, it's okay, baby, it can't hurt you," he whispered in between kisses. "The thunder's only temporary, baby."

With your eyes still closed, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for comfort like a teddy bear. His head buried itself in the nook of your left shoulder and he nibbled gingerly on your earlobe as his soft curls tickled your nose. The rapid thumping of your heart pattered onto his own sweat-gleamed pecs, but this time, it was for a reason unrelated to the perilous thunder.

With his entire weight on top of you and your bodies pressed together with not a centimeter of space between each other, there was only one place where his throbbing member could be at this moment, and that was resting amply between your slippery folds. His tip aligned with your entrance but hovered ever so slightly away from it. So painfully close, yet so painfully far.

"Michael~" you whined in his ear, "I can't wait any longer, I need you inside me already." You impulsively bucked your hips, making your vulva tap him just in case he needed a nonverbal hint.

He grinned against your ear and tucked his hands beneath your thighs to pull them up, your knees resting comfortably against the sides of his waist. "Anything for my baby," he murmured.

With one hand cradling your head and the other gripping the base of his cock, Michael lifted his hips ever so slightly and positioned himself right at your entrance. He rubbed his raw tip around the edges of your hole in tiny circles before pushing himself in, taking pride in the rhapsodic moan that ejected from your mouth and directly into his ear as he filled you up.

Meticulously, Michael pushed himself all the way in until his hips met yours. Your thighs rested nicely on top of his and his cock stuffed you just the way you liked, sitting idly in front of your cervix and being hugged by the slick ridges of your pussy's walls.

Gripping onto his hips, you beckoned him to start moving in and out of you, and he did just that, steadily grinding on you, the coarse curls of his pubic hair tickling your vulva with each elongated stroke.

Once you grew accustomed to his size, he picked up the pace, following a stable rhythm that synchronized with the rain outside which had since turned into torrential downpour. Every instance of him sliding in and out of you brought ripples of nerve-stricken pleasure to your core, radiating through the rest of your body in the form of intense heat bubbling underneath your skin that his touch could no longer cool down.

You could feel every vein of his girthy cock grazing the inside of your pussy. Your whimpers of vulnerable desperation blended with the euphoric moans escaping from Michael's lips created a symphony against the aggressive background noise of the rain that coerced your eyelids to flutter closed, making you take in this moment as if you'd never experience anything like this ever again, though you knew full well that that was far from the truth.

Michael's wet lips feverishly pecked at your face, desperate to find your lips until they collided at last like magnets. Your tongues twirled around each other as his cock continued to pound into you, his hips slapping yours with an audible clap every second on the dot.

"God, you feel so good, baby," he whispered into your mouth in between kisses, his voice low and raspy. "You're perfect in every way, I'll never get tired of you. Never, never, never, never~"

He planted sloppy kisses in between each "never" he spoke, missing your lips half the time but you couldn't care less. You were about to say something in response before he glided two of his fingers into your mouth, inducing you to suck, which you did with pleasure. The saltiness from both his sweat and the remnants of precum that had gotten on his hands tasted delectable on your tongue. After several seconds of licking his slender fingers, he removed them from your mouth, bringing a string of saliva out with them which he lapped up before it could fall on your chest, and crept his slobbered fingers down to your throbbing clit.

You mewled at the initial touch, cool in temperature and so overwhelming for the most sensitive part of your whole body, but as Michael brushed his fingers across your clit as well as your surrounding flesh, you relaxed and your eyes fell again as your head rolled back on the pillow, overcome by double stimulation being done on you.

You tried your best to keep it together, but you slowly felt the ribbons that were holding back your orgasm fraying at the seams. Michael skating his tongue across your jawline and neck and leaving wet kisses wherever it landed, his nimble fingers tracing unidentifiable shapes and symbols on your aching nub, his cock slamming into you with no mercy making the headboard bang against the wall with each ruthless thrust, his sweltering body flush against yours and his back muscles tensing as you dragged your nails across his skin. It was all becoming too much. The buildup was drawing close to it's grand finale, and it looked as though the same could be said for Michael with the way his thrusting rhythm sputtered into sloppy out of control strokes and his breathing drastically picked up speed with dainty whimpers sprinkled into the mix.

"I can't—I don't know if I can hold on any longer, baby," he breathed into your neck.

"I'm almost there, I'm gonna cum, Michael, just don't stop, please~" you responded, swinging your legs up to his back and interlocking your ankles to trap him in; his kryptonite. No matter how hard he tried, Michael was never able to contain himself whenever you pulled out the classic move.

In a frenzied fit, his thrusts gained more speed, his fingers ferociously massaged your clit while trying not to subconsciously ball themselves into a fist, his teeth sunk into the base of your throat, and with a muffled roar of a moan, everything spilled out of him and inside of you, thick ropes of warm cum shooting out of his pulsating cock and into your contracting pussy as you too rode out your high, your juices gushing out and spilling all over him. You both clung onto each other for dear life as your climaxes took over. You wailed Michael's name and he sweetly cried yours as he pumped every last drop of cum inside of you, feeling the same fiery explosion of pleasure deep in the pit of his stomach as you did.

Eventually, your cries turned into tiny whimpers and murmurs as your bodies relaxed once the final bit of your orgasms subsided. Michael lay on top of you for a little while longer with his cock still buried within you, being squeezed gently by each post-orgasm throb that your cunt did impulsively. After several minutes of laying in comfortable silence, Michael got up from the bed to grab a towel from the bathroom to clean you off. Once he finished wiping all of his discarded cum off of your pussy and thighs, he grabbed your nightie from the floor and dressed you before doing the same to himself with his boxers.

there wasn’t a single corner of the room that didn’t have one of y/n’s belongings thrown carelessly in the corner.

the sharp, black stiletto heels michael had bought her for her birthday last year.

the diamond choker she’d begged him to buy and promised she’d handle carefully, lay strewn across the bed.

three of the dresses she’d bought last week dropped on the floor.

and the culprit?

sat at her vanity like a doll, gliding a tuber of lipstick across her lower lip, and spritzing her sweet perfume across her collarbone.

michael watched her from the doorway for a second, the way she fluffed up her hair to make sure it had the volume she wanted, the way she assessed her doll-like makeup with a happy, ditzy little smile.

she gave herself one last once over, setting her perfume down as her eyes met michael’s in the doorway.

“mikey,” y/n said, picking up her little bag, “what d’you think?”

he watched, eyebrow half raised as she gave him a spin, almost wobbling on one of her heels.

“i think that dress is pretty short,” michael said, his gaze remained fixed on her face as she looked down to assess the dress.

“you think? i was gonna make it shorter,”

the way she said it, so clueless about the undertones to what he meant.

“where you goin’, mama?” he caught her wrist as she moved towards the door, looking down at her from where he stood.

“out,”

“out where?”

“out out,” y/n wriggled her wrist free, adjusting the bracelet on her wrist, a little diamond one he’d bought her for their 6 month anniversary.

michael didn’t say anything, watching as she walked to the front door.

“y/n, the room-,”

“i’ll sort it when i’m back!”

and then: click. the front door shut.

michael frowned as he was left alone in the room, her clothes strewn all over the place and makeup left messily on her vanity.

even those beloved diamonds she’d begged for were thrown almost carelessly on the bed.

he swore she’d be the end of him.

❀❀❀❀

y/n came back late.

she’d had to wake up the driver who’d been waiting for her outside the restaurant, it was that late.

it had always been easy to track here.

wherever you could hear metal and jewels rustling, it was probably y/n.

she hummed a soft tune under her breath as she kicked off the platforms she had been wearing, leaving them slightly messy by the door as she brushed her fingers through her hair.

“y/n,”

the girl almost jumped out of her skin as her head snapped the where the voice had spoken.

michael was sat on the couch, arms folded over his chest.

and god, he did not look happy.

“mikey-,”

“where were you?” he cut her off, his voice snappy as she blinked.

“at the restaurant, with my friends-,”

“i was worried sick,” he started, staring at her face for her reaction, “waitin’ all these hours for my girl to come home,”

“i can look after myself, i was fine,” y/n dropped her bag onto the couch, arms folded as she pouted.

“yeah? a ditzy little girl can look after herself? one who can’t even clean up after herself?”

“i said i’d clean up when i’m back!”

“don’t bother,” michael said, his gaze fixed on the bag she’d set down, “i cleaned it up already,”

the room was silent for a second.

“i could’ve done it myself,” she finally spoke, her voice haughty.

there was another pause, broken only by y/n’s gasp as michael grabbed her wrist, pulling her down so she was eye-level with him.

“do you get off to being a brat, y/n?” he spoke, his voice dangerously low, “the messy room ain’t the point,”

she was silent as he spoke.

“what am i supposed to think, hm? with my girl goin’ out like that, knowin’ exactly what other men are gonna think,” he spoke.

y/n looked down at her outfit as he put emphasis on ‘going out like that’.

“you dont like my outfit?”

god, either she was being dumb on purpose, or she truly was that naive.

michael was silent for a second, before he looked down at the dress she was wearing.

“go upstairs and take it off,” he said, “and fold it real nice. ‘bout time i teach you to take care of the pretty things i get you,”

and go upstairs, she did.

the room was clean now, every belonging if hers now put away neatly except the diamond necklace she’d left on the bed.

y/n kept silent, placing her jewellery into the vanity, and leaning down to fold the dress neatly.

michael came upstairs a few minutes later, watching over her shoulder as she finished folding the dress.

“you call this neat, baby girl?” he watched, his breath hot on her neck, “do it again,”

y/n’s hands were shaky as she refolded the dress, placing it neatly at the end of the bed.

“there,” he said, “you can do one thing right. now put that necklace on, and sit on the edge of the bed f’me, okay?”

she clipped the diamond necklace on shakily, the gems shining against her warm skin.

“y’know how much that cost?” michael watched her, eyes fixed in her face.

y/n looked at them on her collarbone, then back at him.

“a…a lot?”

“a lot,” he echoed her, almost laughing at her words, “twenty thousand, baby girl. your mind can’t even comprehend how much that is,” he tilted her head back, giving her cheek a soft, gentle slap.

y/n whined at the stinging pain, but didn’t move away.

“let’s put that mouth to some use, okay?”

he steps back, his eyes tracking over you again, taking in the sight of you perched at the edge of the bed in that pink set.

“open your mouth," he said, his voice low and stripped of any softness, “nice and wide, let me see them pretty lips,”

his hands found her hair as she pulled his trousers down, his cock hard and heavy in her hand.

“thats it,” michael watched her through hooded eyes, “thats my girl,”

y/n looked up at him through her lashes as he yanked her head back, hand twisting in her hair as she whined.

“y’dont get to whine at me after bein’ a brat,” he leaned down, “open your mouth,”

y/n did what he said, her lips parting as michael scowled.

he really was pissed.

he leaned down, spitting onto her tongue as she flinched, her eyes wide as he held her head back.

“y’know that ain’t gonna fit it all, y/n, don’t make it worse,”

y/n didn’t put up a fight, opening her mouth wider.

“there,” michael straightened, wrapping his hand round the base of his cock, “much better,”

“‘m sorry mikey,” y/n started, her eyes wide as he pulled her hair tighter, her voice almost frantic.

“yeah? why don’t you put that pretty mouth to some use and show me how sorry you are,” he pulled her head back, pushing his tip past the softness of her lips.

he went slow, but he didn’t stop either, sliding his full length into her mouth as she gasped, her tongue hot against the underside of his dick.

“so warm,” michael groaned, “so warm and wet f’my dick,”

his hips move with a languid, unhurried rhythm, each shallow thrust measured and controlled as he pushed in and out of her mouth.

each gag vibrated against his cock as he pulled her hand to handle the bits she couldn’t reach.

“y’know, i love when you dress pretty,” he tilted her head, watching his cock disappear into her mouth, past her soft lips.

“love when you wear all the stuff i buy you, but you can’t treat those things without respect, baby girl,” he lifted the diamonds on her neck, glowing and shimmery.

y/n nodded, her throat still full with his dick.

she looked so good in that pink bra, his cock deep inside of her mouth as he angled her head.

“all those people when you go out, think they see you like this? on your knees?” he pushed deeper into her mouth, eyes fluttering shut.

he gave her two more long, deep thrusts, before he pulled out, watching her cough and splutter for a second, before he moved to his knees.

fuck.

“it’s silly, ain’t it, baby? you bein’ a brat and here i am, on my knees for you,” michael scoffed.

his hands found her thighs, pushing them apart, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her pink panties.

he pulled them aside, slow and deliberate, exposing her pretty pussy to the cool air of the room.

he didn’t dive in immediately.

instead, he lowered his head, his breath ghosting hot against her inner thigh, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss just beside where she needed him most.

y/n gasped, his lips pressing a soft kiss just above her clit, before he moved down, tongue gliding against her warm pussy.

michael hummed, the sound vibrating against her core as he repeated the motion, sliding one long finger into her at the same time.

“mikey,” she hissed, her hand coming to his hair as he pumped his finger in and out of her.

he pressed another kiss to her sweet pussy, moving up along her stomach, to her chest, her neck.

it was like he’d forgotten her messiness from earlier.

“bend over the bed f’me,” he spoke into her ear, finger still moving in and out of her as y/n nodded, almost desperate.

michael pulled moved, moving back so she could turn over, her ass in the air as he moved behind her.

the diamonds caught the light as he wrapped his hand round his dick, his tip teasing against her aching entrance.

“tell me what you want, mama,” he reached a hand into her hair, pulling her head back, “tell me what’chu want and i’ll give it to you,”

“you, please,”

that was all he needed, pushing into her, her pussy enveloping him in a warm, wet embrace.

“mikey, fuck,” her head fell forwards into the mattress as he settled deep inside of her, watching his dick push into her.

he started off slow, savouring the sounds of his dick getting coated in her juices, the way she moaned everytime he bottomed out, her pussy slick round him.

and then, he started properly.

michael pivoted his hips, aiming as deep as he could inside of her, hitting right against her g-spot as she cried out, hands fisted into the duvet.

“mikey- fuck, it’s s’good,” y/n babbled into the mattress, michael’s hand still in her hair as he snapped his hips into her.

he alternated the rhythm too, a few long, deep thrusts, before he speeding up again, her cunt clenching round him every time he did so.

“thats it, doll,” he whispered, “need t’know you’ll behave next time,”

y/n just nodded, her eyes glazed over, lower lip red from biting down onto it as he pumped in and out of her, faster and harder.

“‘m so close, mikey, fuck,” she whispered, saying his name over and over again, like a prayer, as he let go of her hair, his large hands coming to her waist, splayed across her hot skin.

“‘s so good, jus’ let me finish, please,” y/n moaned, her eyes rolling back as her stomach tightened.

she was close.

“you’re all good, girl,” michael whispered, “i ain’t stoppin’,”

they both finished together, michael’s dick buried deep in her as her cunt clenched round him, his cum spilling into her.

for a second, they were both still, y/n blinking back stars, before michael slowly dragged out.

“‘s all good now,” michael whispered, his touch surprisingly tender as he cupped her cheek from behind, “you’re all good, baby girl,”

y/n stayed still, his cum dripping down her shaky thighs as she nodded.

it was like she could still feel him inside of her.

the room was empty for a second, til michael came back, drying off her thighs with a wet towel and tossing it with the rest of the dirty laundry.

after that, he walked back into the room, gently guiding y/n into a hug.

“you all good?” he spoke softly into her hair, “didn’t hurt you, did i?”

y/n shook her head.

“good,” michael hummed, sitting down onto the bed, taking the girl onto his lap as he did so.

“you gonna clean up after yourself now?”

“yeah,” she mumbled into his chest as his hand came to her waist, trading idle patterns across her still-hot skin.

“good,” he said again, her ear pressed to his chest, the soft thump-thump of his heart beneath her.

“i won’t be silly anymore,” y/n mumbled.

“alright,” michael said, “we should get some sleep, doll, it’s late,”

y/n nodded, letting michael’s hand travel up her back, undoing the lace bra she had on.

they were both definitely going to get some good sleep.

❀❀❀❀

i don’t really know if i’m all that happy with this piece, though i hope you all enjoyed it!

𝓳𝒖𝒍𝒚 𝟏𝟎, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟎 ──‪‪ I saw the prettiest girl this afternoon. Just real beautiful. I never seen any girl look so precious. I don't know her name, and I could only smile at her as she passed, but I do hope I see her again. We were at the recording studio today, and it was there that I noticed her. So full of life and energy, similar to me, but I've been quieter recently. Joseph says it's not a good look to be such a 'boisterous, happy kid.' I have to be serious offstage. But anyway, back to the beautiful girl...

She was so, so pretty. My brothers kept making fun of me because I couldn't stop staring at her, and when she noticed me as she sung, she looked right in my eyes and smiled. Jackie said she looked at all of us and not just me, but I felt the eye contact, I'm sure of it. I don't know if she likes me, if she'd want to be my friend, but I'm lying awake right now, I don't know what time it is, and I can't stop thinking about her. If she's a Motown artist, I probably will see her again, and that makes me real happy. I need to ask somebody about that. I'll ask mother to ask Joseph tomorrow morning. I can't wait to know her name.

𝓼𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝟐𝟏, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟎 ──‪‪ I keep getting this weird butterfly feeling in my stomach whenever I'm near [♥︎]. ‬It's how I feel whenever I like a girl, I know that, and with most girls I don't think twice about showing how I feel, but with her everything's different. I've never felt so seen and understood before. We're really starting a good friendship and I would never want anything to ruin that, so I'm just going to try my best to push these feelings away and not let her find out. She obviously doesn't feel the same way about me because I think I would've noticed, and if she doesn't feel that way then it would be too risky to ask her out on a date. My family find it funny how seriously I handle the idea of falling in love. They say that I talk very… I can’t remember the word? Basically they say I talk about girls like someone older would, and that I take having a crush too serious since I’m only twelve. But I can’t really help that — I think girls are wonderful. Whenever I meet one that makes my heart jump a little, I just have to make it known to her how incredible she is.

That’s my problem. I could’ve told [♥︎] that I really liked her right away when we first met, but I just didn’t want her to find me weird and then not want to be my friend at all. Because I’ll happily be her friend and nothing more — if that’s what she wants.

If I did ask her out, she'd probably assume I was asking her in a friendship kind of way, since Jackie always says that me and her already do the things that couples do. Going to the movies, staying over at mine to play games, going rollerskating, getting ice cream. (All our outdoor hangouts are always supervised by at least two of my brothers, which really irritates me.) But I don't know why he keeps saying those are only couple activities. I love doing all those things myself, so why would I not do them with a friend? And when I say that to him, he tells me it's something about a "certain way" we do those things together.

All my brothers are constantly teasing me about how quickly I've grown so close with a girl I've known for a really short amount of time, but it's only because I'd say I love very easily when I connect well with somebody. It's not common for true friends to come into my life. The white kids at school either don't like to talk to me because I'm black and their parents want me out of the neighborhood, or they follow me around everywhere because I'm a singer. [♥︎] doesn't care that I'm a singer because she is one too, and we just really get each other so well. I can't explain it. I never had a genuine friend before her.

And maybe my brothers are right and I'm too touchy or romantic with her, but I don't mean to be. I'm just having a lot of fun with my first friend — who, okay, I have to admit I also really want to kiss at the same time. One day maybe I will, but I'm too nervous now.

I know she has other friends at school, but she's mostly homeschooled (just like me) and she tells me she can never know who has genuine intentions because everyone knows her as a rising star in the business. That's exactly what I'm going through. We confide in each other a lot about that kind of stuff.

𝓸𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝟖, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟐 ──‪‪ Tonight started out horribly, but it soon turned itself around. I've found that recently, writing in this book has helped a lot with registering and understanding my emotions, because when I keep them all pent up I sometimes end up hitting Joseph back after he's hit me. I shouldn't do that, because I only get it even harder afterwards, and it's not fair on mother and everyone else who has to sit and watch. But since I've put my thoughts into written words, I've noticed I can deal with the beatings a lot better. Now I just sit and take it, like a disciplined child should.

Tonight I was beat with both an iron cord and Joseph's belt, because earlier I messed up a line in Never Can Say Goodbye, and I slightly altered one of the dance steps in another song too. Joseph always asked of me to stick to the learned choreography completely, but I sometimes get carried away with myself and want to do my own thing.

When he first saw me tonight, I ran to the bathroom to throw up. I couldn't stop it from happening — I just got so terrified. Then he beat me, while my mother kept screaming for him to leave me alone, but this time I wouldn't yell along with her. Yelling never gets anywhere, because it really feels like Joseph thrives off of how anxious and tense he makes us. I don't think he cares how much he's hurting me. To him, all that's necessary is constant discipline.

But as I said, the night got a lot better soon enough. [♥︎] came over right away when I called her house. I had to wait until Joseph was in the upstairs bathroom, and then I rushed to the telephone and dialled her number. I didn't tell her what happened at first, but I think she could tell from my tone of voice and from the suddenness of my call, because when she climbed through my window and settled under our Mickey and Minnie blanket, she immediately started checking for bruises, and made me get real shy and nervous the way she interlaced her fingers with mine. We do that a lot, and I never get used to how warm and cozy her hands feel.

She snuggled into my chest, held my hand tight and told me I'm the Mickey to her Minnie. I looked at her confused, pointing out that Mickey and Minnie were lovers, which we obviously weren't, but she didn't seem fazed. She just shrugged and moved on with the conversation. What did she mean by that?

𝓪𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝟏𝟏, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟔 ──‪‪ It's so painful for me to keep watching [♥︎] get taken advantage of by so many horrible guys. She just passed my house in some guy's car, with the top down and she called out for me because she saw me at the fountain. I waved but I just feel so sad. He's only going to use her like all the others, and I don't know why she does this to herself in seeking them out. I've been reading recently about attachment styles, and to me she really seems very avoidant. She always goes out with guys casually and doesn't care what their intentions are, and whenever a nice guy has approached her to take her out on a thoughtful date, she says no. That never made sense to me, but I guess it's starting to make sense if she does have avoidant tendencies. I feel like I'm right about that.

Apparently avoidant people can still eventually be in a real relationship, but they have to feel safe and allow themselves to be loved. That's never going to happen with any of those awful men she lets use her, and I hate that she treats them like the only viable option. She lost her virginity a year ago — she came to me crying about it and she wouldn't stop crying all night until morning. I held her and told her everything would be alright — that she didn't have to feel so guilty — but she said she felt that she'd been used, and that she'd made a huge mistake. I think she did make a mistake, not because of my personal belief in waiting until marriage, but because she gave it up to a guy who really did use her for his own gain. He wasn't gentle with her — she told me it really hurt and that he didn't care. He just kept selfishly assuring her it would feel better in a minute but it never did. And that's when she rushed to my house and collapsed into my arms. I'll never forget that night. How angry I felt for her, how helpless the situation made me feel on her behalf.

I felt disgusted by what she told me. Sex is supposed to be a beautiful, thoughtful act between two people who love each other, and everybody around me doesn't seem to view it that way. They have it all twisted. My brothers sleep with random women out of the audience of our concerts, and they drop them immediately after. Joseph is constantly cheating on mother, and everywhere you go these days you see people almost promoting loveless promiscuity.

Obviously my brothers and Joseph can do whatever they want, and I don't like to judge people outside of my family — but when it comes to my best friend (my only friend, really), I can't stand to see her getting hurt. Men don't get hurt like women do, physically or emotionally. And she's still only a girl — she's seventeen, sixteen when she did it for the first time.

I know this is bad to say and I feel really guilty for writing it down on paper, but as soon as she told me she'd lost her virginity, I wished I'd been the one to take it. A part of me has always hoped that one day she'll fall in love with me, even though she clearly hasn't in all these years and it's not looking likely that she ever will. Maybe one day though, she might view me in a different light.

Or what if she agrees with Joseph? That my nose is too big, or what if there's some other issue about me that she's too polite to point out? My acne has certainly put her off even more. I can't even look most people in the eye these days, I feel so ugly. It's getting a little better now, but there was no way she was ever going to start liking me in the way I want her to while I looked as bad as I have in this last year or so.

Of course boys and girls can be just friends, but we're together so much (whenever we're in the same city) and even though I've spent these last few years trying to ignore my feelings, they've only strengthened the more that I've watched her grow.

Since I properly learned what sex was, I always had this stupid dream that we would lose our virginities to each other. It was such a naive wish but I thought about it a lot, and felt really ashamed. I prayed to God that he'd forgive me for those thoughts.

Even though the people around me and in the strip clubs we've performed at treat sex in such a disgusting way, I believe it's an inherently beautiful thing with the right person. I'm so excited to try it out for the first time but I can't until I get married. That's what mother wants for me, and I also believe in it too. Maybe if [♥︎] had done the same, she wouldn't have been put through so much pain. But I also wouldn't have been able to deal with watching her marry another.

I don't think a man has ever been gentle with her, and she always brushes off every horrible one she meets as if the trauma is nothing, before moving onto the next. When she first started dating these guys she told me all about it, confiding in me about every detail, but she eventually ended up hardly telling me anything. I really think that's because she could see how much I frowned upon her making the same mistakes over and over again, how I'd tell her she needed to respect herself more (which led to a huge argument), so she became too ashamed to say anything. In retrospect, I probably should've worded my point in a different way.

It all makes me so upset. I always want her to confide in me about absolutely everything in her life, not because I'm trying to be intrusive, but because I care about her and need to know she's okay, because we're best friends and we really don't have anyone else we can trust. I'm not judging her in a way where I think she's disgusting for sleeping with men that don't care about her — no, I think the men are the disgusting ones, especially because they're almost always in their early twenties or even older. They're taking advantage of her, and I hate to sit back and watch it happen, so I had to speak to her about it, but like I said now she hardly tells me anything about her love life (if 'love' is even the appropriate term) so by being secretive she's basically preventing me from saying anything at all.

𝓪𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒍 𝟐𝟖, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟖 ──‪‪ I have to write this down because I'm so overwhelmed right now, and I can't tell my brothers because they'll laugh at me.

After almost eight years, I finally kissed the girl I've always wanted to kiss more than anybody. It was amazing, just euphoric, but after a bit of silence, she told me she needed to go home for something and rushed off without even hugging me. I can't stop worrying that I've ruined everything, but I'm also very confused because we kissed for at least ten seconds — she was eagerly kissing me back.

Really, it's not the first time our lips have met. We kissed once when we were fourteen, a playful peck that she instigated, and that was awful because it really showed me just how much she felt nothing romantically for me. She just kissed me and laughed it off. I think I've written about that somewhere in my old diary.

But today we kissed for real, and she seemed to like it, or at least that's what I thought before she suddenly took off. I've had girls tell me I'm a good or even a great kisser, but that didn't stop me from being so nervous. I finally told her how I felt, because my brothers kept telling me I needed to or otherwise she'd keep going off with all those different guys that keep traumatizing her psyche. I knew it would be a long shot, but I told her anyway, needing to get it all off my chest. I made it embarrassingly clear that I've adored her since I first laid eyes on her, that she's wonderful and the most beautiful woman alive. People tell her that all the time, but they don't know half the things that make her so beautiful.

I didn't give her complete transparency though, because if I did I would've said that I want to marry her. I do want to marry her. I want that more than anything. But it's not the old days anymore. We might be religious in our family, but while hers do go to church, they're not as devout, so skipping straight to a marriage proposal would definitely have scared her.

I just read that back and I sound real silly, I know, but I guess I'm just so overcome with emotion because I never thought this would happen.

I'm worried though. I didn't expect her to feel the same after so long of seeing me as only a friend, but I also didn't expect how quickly she'd go away. I stupidly tried to deepen the kiss, again another example of my moving too fast, and she pulled away and started to look anxious, like she regretted it. Then she said she had to go, and left without another word. I don't see her as much these days because we both tour, and oh no, I just remembered I forgot to ask when she'd be leaving California again, so I need to call her house. Or maybe I shouldn't. I've probably really scared her. I bet she thinks I've been secretly perving on her all this time.

I should ask my brothers if they've had any similar experience to my situation, but I think the problem here is that when it's between two best friends, confessing your feelings is a huge risk to take. That's why I've always hid the way I've felt. Now my worst nightmare is coming true.

Jackie, Tito, Marlon, Jermaine, they've never had an eight year long friendship with a girl who they're secretly in love with, so really nobody can help me handle this. I know my mother likes her as a person but I don't think she'd like me to choose her as my girl, because mother's always telling me about the 'unsavory' things she sees of her in the paper each week. I always tell her it's just that she likes to have fun, but mother never takes kindly to that answer.

I guess I just have to wait and see if she calls first, or if she comes here to see me. I really hope she does. I won't be able to sleep tonight.

Maybe she'll climb through my window and cuddle in my bed with me and talk, like we always have done. If I've ruined things between us forever, I'll never forgive myself.

𝓶𝒂𝒚 𝟓, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟖 ──‪‪ I feel silly reading back my last entry. I overreacted and spoke too soon. [♥︎] called me the day after, apologizing for leaving so quickly, and she told me to give her some space for a few days before she could talk to me comfortably about what I'd told her. Obviously, that still sounded concerning, because the way she worded it made it sound as if I'd made her uncomfortable with my confession, but when she did come to me, everything was clear. Crazy and unbelievable, but finally clear.

She told me she wanted cuddles in my bed, that we should just lie there for a while and rest. So we did, except it didn't take long before she started laughing, telling me my heartbeat was way too fast where her head lay on my chest. She could tell I was anxious, so she came out with everything. I can't go into all the details right now — she's coming over soon, I can see her walking up to the front door from my window. I can't contain my excitement, which is why I started writing this to distract myself before she arrives.

But to sum everything up, she said the most startling, surprising thing of all — like something I could only wish to conjure up in a dream, but instead I've somehow made it my reality.

As she stayed cuddled into my chest, playing with my fingers, she told me that even though she never realized it before, she's been in love with me for years, and had unconsciously pushed the feelings away the entire time, until I said what I did. That's why she needed the time alone to process everything. It turns out I was right that she feels uncomfortable to be loved and taken care of so closely — she explained that's why she's always entertained only men who didn't ask for anything more than sex. She never considered that she might actually want to be taken care of by somebody, even if it might feel strange at first.

I can't believe it but she told me she'll try that out with me, even though it scares her. And I'm more than prepared to go at her pace — whatever she wants. I'm just lucky to have her in at least some kind of romantic way, even if it's not everything all at once. I hear her coming upstairs with Latoya right now. I'm so happy I feel like my heart might burst...

𝓪𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝟐𝟓, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟖 ──‪‪ I lost my virginity tonight. It was incredible. Just so wonderful... everything I ever dreamed of. I came really fast though... but she said that was okay. I don't know if she was just trying to make me feel better about myself.

Even if that was the case, we immediately did it again where I lasted a little bit longer and I made her cum. I don’t think she’s ever been so beautiful as she was in that moment. And she actually told me that I'm the first guy to ever give her an orgasm. I couldn't believe that, because she’s been with at least a handful of guys before me, but she promised me she was being serious.

God, I'm in love with this woman. I feel bad about what I've done, I feel so bad... (I hope mother doesn't find out ever) but at the same time I feel great. Can't bad things also be great? I guess that's the paradox of life, the duality of it. I know I shouldn't have had sex with her, especially because I know that she's who I will marry, so I should've just waited until then... but I couldn't help myself.

I hope I was okay for her. She told me I was and she guided me through what I didn't know, and her voice was so heavenly in my ear, I just... I need to feel her like that again soon. Tonight. I can't stop thinking about the way she felt. I need her all the time.

I understand now what people mean when they talk so much about lovemaking. I understand why she so desperately wanted to do it with me. But anything she's ever yearned for could never match the force of my yearning right now. I'm going crazy.

She is so divine. My sweet girl... I can't believe she's entirely my own. Forgive me God for I have sinned, but I promise I'll marry her and make it alright.

𝓶𝒂𝒚 𝟐, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟏 ──‪‪ This week has been so magical. Me and my beautiful lady are trying for our first child, and this is all I've ever wanted. We've been making love for days, even more than we did when I first lost my virginity to her — every single day for hours into the night, and I've never felt such a surge of love before.

My angel girl will soon be a mama. She'll be the mother of our first child, and I would never try to force her to have all the kids I want but I also really hope she'll be on board with as many as possible. Ever since we were young I've always viewed her to have the perfect qualities of a mother — so gentle and nurturing, so self-assured and empathetic. Sometimes she would play with animals beside me, or she'd play with the children in her family, and every time I'd watch her I would do so in awe, wondering what it might feel like if she one day would have a child of her own, if she would have mine. And now, inconceivably to me, that day is somehow very nearly here.

All that time she spent with those men who used her, back then it felt like those days would never end, that she'd just keep falling back into that same traumatic pattern. It's hard to believe she's been with me now for three years, even though not long before that I'd given up hope. I'll forever recognize how blessed I am to be the one she let down her walls for. I'll never lose sight of that, because I remember how avoidant and guarded she used to be. Three years ago she did something so difficult for herself, gradually beginning to accept real love, a gentle love that I've given her each day since. The love I'll give her each day forward, too.

The first night this week that we were lovemaking, she was giggling all shy and kept covering her face while I smothered her skin in kisses. That sight tugged hard at my heartstrings because it immediately brought me back to our very first time together. I'd despaired for so long that we weren't each other's firsts, but that night in the summer of '78 had felt like a glimpse into what it might have been like if we were. And now this week, she had the same adorable expression on her face, the exact same shy smile as we anticipated making life together. But where once that expression was one of real anxiety and discomfort at being loved so gently and so carefully — an experience so initially unfamiliar to her — now it was an expression displaying true happiness and content. She tells me she feels so safe with me, and that's the best thing I could ever hope to hear. The glint in her eyes when I hold her in bed is so precious... I treasure the sight dearly.

Even though I can't wait to finally find out she's pregnant, I'm going to miss the days we spent making our child. And yes, that statement obviously carries something inherently sexual within it, but I don't even necessarily mean it that way. Me and my baby have amazing sex all the time, and I imagine us to have it even more passionately when she's all glowing during pregnancy — because I won't be able to keep my hands off her, and I've heard about how women crave sex more during pregnancy due to hormonal shifts.

Really, the primary reason that this week will be so special and memorable to me is because of how beautifully emotional it is. I feel like we're ascending every time we make love, as though we're the only two people on earth. Nothing else matters aside from how our bodies entwine, and inside her I suddenly get inspired to write a million heartfelt love songs. I truly can't believe she's a real human being that I get to call my own, and even more so that she's who will bear my child. I'd love our child to have her eyes, her smile... How beautiful that through love, we're creating a being that will share both of our features.

So that's what I mean when I say I cherish this week not only for the sex as a pleasurable and more frequent act, but I cherish it for how deeply emotional the act has been — even more than usual, because I do feel like I always get at least a little emotional when I take her so intimately. My heart is aching with adoration and complete happiness every time I move inside her, every time she makes one of those sweet noises into the air and holds me a little tighter. She's my anchor.

I love when our bodies are pressed together chest to chest as one — it's always been my favorite way to make love. Even better if I can make her laugh in the middle of it, tickling her or poking her nose to bring a smile to her face while she moans in my ear. I like it to be as intimate and as passionate as possible, and my girl's favorite thing is when I cradle her head and whisper to her, which I always do, because I love that just as much as she does. One hand interlaced with hers, and one hand on the back of her head or her jaw to keep her feeling protected. Everything is so heavenly and incredible when we're together like this — I've always been addicted to her body but now I feel like that's somehow been heightened times a thousand since we started trying for our baby. It's such a precious time in our lives — I'll remember this week forever.

𝓯𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝟐𝟖, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟒 ──‪‪ Last night was one of the greatest nights of my life. I won eight Grammys, breaking the record for most awards won in a single night, and my lady won six, setting a new record for the most Grammys ever won by a female artist in one night. Together, we now own the achievement of most Grammys won by a married couple in a single ceremony. I'm amazed that this is real life.

I came home with her when the afterparty was over, although we wanted to leave earlier, and we made the sweetest love all night, not even fully taking off our clothes until the third round. The stars shone outside the windows as I loved on her, and I don't think I've ever felt more satisfied with what I've achieved in life. If the world happened to end here, even though there's so much more I hope to do, I would be proud.

We wore matching glittery numbers, midnight blue embellished with gold, and I thought she just looked so sexy I couldn't take her out of her dress. Reluctantly, when she was getting a little overstimulated after two orgasms I unzipped it and helped her out of it. Now I watch her sleeping beside me as I write this early in the morning, so beautiful like an angel in her slumber, and I hope she's having a magical dream.

I remember what she told me last night, while we laid in each other's naked arms. She said the orbs of my eyes were an ocean of glistening stars, that my smile was born of the gentlest angel. I resent when people comment on my appearance, because even with compliments I don't believe a word they say. They're just trying to flatter me. In some ways I think that's the same with my baby, because she wants to make me feel better, but I could never resent her for that, because everything's different with her. She knows my soul.

𝓭𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝟑, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟒 ──‪‪ Stress is eating me alive at the moment. I haven't had sex with my girl in three weeks, and I just keep trying to make her think it's all down to me being too tired when I get home. But the problem is that we've both had mostly free schedules for the first time in a long time, and usually we'd fill a lot of that freedom with lovemaking. So I know she's secretly confused, maybe concerned, and just doesn't want to bring up the elephant in the room. She probably doesn't want to embarrass me with such an awkward question.

Our sexual distance is all because my vitiligo is spreading. In the beginning, I did hate the patches on my wrists and hands, my forehead, my nose and cheeks... but it was easier to cover those smaller patches, and I didn't feel as self-conscious as I do right now because they just felt like wide, splotchy blemishes of a kind. But now I'm getting worse (my skin is getting worse, and emotionally I am too as a result). I don't know how to deal with the fact that this issue is going to keep on worsening as time passes, and I do believe my baby when she says she loves me unconditionally, but maybe she hasn't really considered what unconditionally might mean. I'm going to look more and more like a freak, so ugly with all these patches of white everywhere.

A few years ago I hated my nose so I changed it, but I can't do anything about this current problem. I'll need to start wearing makeup everyday, and have to keep relying on creams for the condition. The glove I wear onstage is long outdated as a cover-up, because this thing is spreading much further now, but the main problem isn’t how it will affect my public persona (because I can just use makeup and cream for that) — it’s how it affects the woman who wants to see me naked every night.

I need to sort it out quickly, because I keep avoiding intimacy out of fear that I'll be unattractive to her. How would it even be possible that she could want to have sex with me when I look like this? It's winter and I've been covering myself up more, but California is always warm, and I think sometimes she wonders why I'm never without long sleeves and pants. The other day I wanted to swim with her so badly (I love swimming) but I can't. I can't let anyone, not even my girl, see me so deformed, stripped of my normal pigmentation.

I wouldn't even feel comfortable if we made love, if I forced myself through it, because I'd just feel so guilty and awkward about the way I look. I've never enjoyed the sight of my own appearance, but I'm not ignorant and I do understand that my wife obviously married me for reasons other than what's inside. She has tried to reassure me about my looks for years, and I don't think she's lying to me but I guess I just don't see what she sees. In some ways I hate that she's so in love with me, because I think she'll surely fall out of love when she sees what I'm turning into. There are patches on my genitals now and every time I see them I just want to cry.

Someday in the next week, I think I'll have to tell her we need to take a break — I'm not sure for how long. She doesn't deserve me when I'm not at my best. I know we have our son to take care of, but we're already often split as parents because of our opposing schedules with touring and everything else, so our parenting roles won't be affected by this. I just need to be alone for a while. It's strange — even in my hardest moments, I've never felt like distancing myself from my wife, but I don't feel like me at the moment.

𝓶𝒂𝒚 𝟐𝟗, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 ──‪‪ After a six month break in our marriage, my Tinker Bell has taken me to Disneyland Paris for the weekend. She found out not long after I'd initiated the break what the real reason was for my doing so, and she pleaded with me not to be so ridiculous, assuring me that she would love me no matter how patchy my skin became. But I was just suffering so much at the time that I couldn't listen to her pleas. The way I felt was very similar to how I used to feel as a teenager, when my acne and my nose was all I could think about in every social situation. It was horrible. Just like when I was younger, I couldn't look people in the eye when they talked to me — not even my wife. I rely on sunglasses while I'm out, but I can't exactly wear those in bed. Suddenly, I begun to feel entirely exposed.

After trying so hard to get me to stay and let her take care of me, she finally gave up and allowed me some space. Six months we've been apart, until she called me up one day and asked me out of the blue if I'd like to go to Disneyland. I said of course I would, and now we're here together, in our hotel room, mapping the night’s constellations. I’m still too self-conscious about the changes in my body, and not yet ready for sex again, but she’s telling me she has no issue waiting, and that there’s no need for our break to extend further.

She’s so patient with me, and in a sense that makes me feel guilty — because I hate to mess her around. But she always promises me she doesn’t mind.

angelcrescent © 2026 this was actually quite difficult to write given the fact that i struggled to not accidentally insert my own narrative voice into michael’s writing lol >< but i thought this was a cute concept! also i hope there are no errors because i’ve been stressed out today and had to proofread quickly :D