kay

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."

taglist: @ruesredjacket @4ppl3h34d @tinydreamerpillar @delictezz @heartsforamari19 @sugarrushbell @bangchanunofficial @swavydadon @nayykura @plan3tch1ld @unseenleylinesecret @niyahctrl @animegamerfox @raefoxiegirl @applehead-luvr @a-motherfcking-fish @michaelsgirlie @sebbysbaby @helalokithor @poetsprey @60fspp @kryka83 @ilov3tosle3p @bladeeisjesus @umibug @erynnnn @lauren7050 @onegoodperson @trvpstarxvl @futilenaner @alexablanc @superlegend216

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR whose eyes always follow you behind his shades, subconsciously biting his lip as he watches you lounge in the pool with his little brother, yearning to be the stray water droplets that cling to your skin, skimming over your sternum down your plush stomach.

when his dick starts to rise in his trousers from the sight of your tits bouncing in the pool, he unashamedly dips his hand past the hem to adjust his dick, peel his balls off his thighs. and you don’t see a thing.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who makes up any excuse to touch your waist: to move you out of the way, to lift you up on the counter, to help you out of the pool. his hands are always warm too, they’re big. engulfing your waist, your hips, as he moves you any which way he wants, lightly, teasingly squeezing the soft of your hips too.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who jerks off to a napkin with your lipgloss stain on it. it’s a hot pink mark, and the lip product smells cheap and plastic-y, but the shape of your lips rubbing on his length makes jaafar jizz all over the thin tissue paper within a good two minutes.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who ends up taking your virginity in his bedroom at his family’s houseparty. jermajesty is all drunk in the backyard, a deep house beat making the walls crumble as jaafar’s thick digits scissor open your walls for the very first time. “let it out, gorgeous. they’re not gonna hear ya.”

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who eventually ends up sneaking around with you. suddenly you come over way too often, and while jermajesty enjoys your company, he can’t help but become suspicious as to why you always disappear in the middle of the night.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who has you face down in his bed as he lazily pumps into you. his hips rubbing against your ass, his cock gently caressing your inner walls as he grinds his balmy dick into your cervix while you gasp out in the pillows, jutting your ass further into his pelvis. you know you have to come quick, because you absolutely cannot afford jermajesty hearing you two going at it like two bunnies.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who fucks you so good, you can’t sit down normally the next day. literally wincing as you sit your ass down, the muscles burning as you tense them up. “someone did a little too much at the gym.” jaafar teases at the breakfast table. a warm filter coats your cheeks as scenes from last night cloud your mind. “something like that,” you mumble shyly.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who loves to eat you out on the washing machine because 1) the laundry room is small and hidden away, nobody knows where the two of you are, and 2) the rumble of the machine masks your pretty moans and whimpers as you leak into jaafar’s mouth.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who loves to see you in crop tops, because he loves to kiss your stomach. nosing your navel, squeezing your sides as he kneels in front of you, his forehead pressed against your skin as he kisses your cute tummy all over.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who takes photos of your fucked-out state to look back on later, when you’re not around, to get off to. he uses his fancy digital cameras as he takes nasty close up shots of your drooling, cummed up hole, videos of him pushing his cum back into you.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who fucks you in the middle of the day, and then has you walk back out with no panties on, his warm cum sliding down your thighs as you constantly squeeze your thighs together to keep jaafar’s thick cum from spilling out of you.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who sends you late night texts and — very much wanted — dick pics, his pearly white cum all over his bronzed hand, a stark constrast, with the text: “left your bra here and big j couldn’t contain himself lol”.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who, during his many trips to foreign places, also sends you pictures of his cummy, shiny dick, milky cum dripping down the base, his mushroom tip all soggy and swollen, thick cream sitting on his fat balls. “big dick will be back in town soon”.

sends you videos of him rubbing himself with your panties. he’s literally cut a hole through the gusset so his dick fits through the hole as he fucks his hand with your underwear. but as he hardens, he isn’t able to move the lacy fabric over his length anymore, so he ends up pacing around with your flabby panties hanging around his boner.

jerks himself off for you in front of the mirror, and you can see his thick balls resting on his thighs, twitching. when he’s close, he juts his tip on the glass mirror before shooting his entire white load against it.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who calls you “mami” as he eats you out, one big hand clasped around your mouth as his tongue flicks over your sensitive clit, your walls clenching shut around nothing. “lemme eat’cha open, mami, don’t fight me.”

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who accidentally starts calling you “mami” in normal, everyday situations. at the family dinner table, “pass me the salt, please, mami.” tumbles out of jaafar’s mouth. the thing is, he’s not even ashamed of it. he just owns it, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders as jermajesty eyeballs him.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who sneaks into the bathroom as you shower. one moment you’re enjoying the hot water spray with your eyes closed, and the other you feel two large hands squeeze your tits, jaafar’s lips kissing your neck as his half-mast dick pokes into your thigh from behind.

⁀➴┊PERVY BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTHER!JAAFAR who loves to show off the hickies you put on him. he enters the living room, purple marks all over his neck while his brothers hype him up, thinking he had some last night. and jaafar? he just passes you a teasing look, winking at you because he knows you put them there last night.

taglist: @ruesredjacket @4ppl3h34d @tinydreamerpillar @delictezz @heartsforamari19 @sugarrushbell @bangchanunofficial @swavydadon @nayykura @plan3tch1ld @unseenleylinesecret @niyahctrl @animegamerfox @raefoxiegirl @applehead-luvr @a-motherfcking-fish @michaelsgirlie @sebbysbaby @helalokithor @poetsprey @60fspp @kryka83 @ilov3tosle3p @bladeeisjesus @umibug @erynnnn @lauren7050 @onegoodperson @trvpstarxvl @futilenaner @alexablanc @superlegend216 @gravenoirr @heyitsm4di @heartstofiiveunknownn @soimightlikeoldmen69 @cherrishkissed @bambijackson @kisscoqueen

you and your boyfriend sat together on the couch, well actually you sat with your legs across his thighs leaning onto him. 

watching To Kill a Mockingbird for the umpteenth time but you didn’t mind, as long as you could sit next to your lover while he smiled enjoying the movie—turning to

you occasionally to point out a scene or line—you would smile and nod softly. 

by the third time you rewatched the movie you’d end up spending the entire time just admiring him and, tonight was no different at all. your hand resting on the couch now ran up all the way to his short curly hair, gently allowing your nails scratch his scalp causing your boyfriend to turn his face to you 

“mmmm” he hummed leaning into your touch, his hands resting on your thighs start moving gently massaging the plush skin. smiling dazedly at the tv 

you kissed his lips softly “i love you” which earned you a sheepish smile “mm- i love you more” 

“no me!” you left a quick kiss on his lips, “no me more~!” he giggled going in to kiss you back, attention now fully gone from the tv now onto his precious girl 

you sat up, “noo i said it first so that means i win” you feigned annoyance, your free hand now moving up to turn his chin towards you. “mmm i don’t think it wor—“ you cut him off with a kiss, he softly groaned into your mouth. 

it went from one soft kiss to multiple, barely able to stop yourself from kissing your boyfriends pretty lips. how could you seriously resist? so plump, soft and insanely sweet you just couldn’t stop. his hands on your thighs now squeezing and patting slightly at your legs indicating he need a little breath. begrudgingly you separated your lips, resting your forehead against his. hot puffs of air hitting his your face and gosh the way his eyes looked up at you made him look so small, like you could eat him alive and you did just so, diving back for another kiss. this time your legs shifted moving from laying over his thighs to straddling his legs.

your hand still in his hair grabbing his curls, your free hand once on his face now moving down his body to his chest—slowly feeling him up—you felt him shift in his seat slightly, if you weren’t paying attention you would’ve also missed the little shiver that ran up his spine. your hand traveled down over his stomach, muscles jumping under your touch. “you okay?” you spoke between kisses to which he answered with a nod, after getting your green light you moved down to his crotch feeling the obvious bulge raising from his jeans.

you parted from his lips, he was completely in a trance. panting, pupils blown wide and his eyes although dazed were impossibly focused on your lips—chasing them when you pulled away—“you hard baby?” he looked up, nodding “y-yeah a little” he bit his lip before speaking “i just get so excited kissing you”he said quietly, smiling bashfully. “aww~ nothing to be ashamed of, we just gotta fix that yeah?” you cooed, rubbing the side of his face slowly tearing your vision away from him down to his pants—undoing the button and pulling the zipper down—no matter how many times you did this you were always so surprised at how worked up he’d always get, and no matter how many times michael would do this he’d always be incredibly flustered having someone look at him down there. 

you palmed him through his boxers slowly squeezing him “mmph-!” he hissed through his teeth “feels good?” you looked up to see his head laid back against the couch. “mmmhm- v-very good mama” he sighed his hands hugging your waist “yeah?” you cooed using your free hand to rub the side of his face to which he nodded. using your nails to graze up and down his clothed length earning a delicious whine from him “please c’mon don’t tease me”

“getting demanding huh?” you questioned  but before he could reply he felt your teeth sinking into his neck earning a yelp from him “sorry! mmph” you smiled against his neck feeling the goosebumps speckle up his throat “good boy~ so good at listening yeah?” he tried to protest “w-what are you talking about” he laughed breathlessly you lifted your head from his neck, “what do you mean, hm?” your hand tugging the fabric of his boxers down. “i-im not a” ah! he cried out, your thumb teasing at his tip “i-im not a boy im- im a man-“ he whined ironically “oh yeah? a man?” spreading his pre around to use as a lubricant slowly picking up pace. you really wish you could believe his tone but the sounds he were making were beyond pathetic “ah! s-slow down m’not gonna last-“ he shifted. “mm you’re gonna have to beg to get me too~” you said in a sing-song voice. he closed his eyes shyly, gulping lightly “p-please?” 

clicking your tongue,going faster “you can do better than that right?” twisting your wrist in a way you knew that definitely overstimulated him “p-please! mmgh ppllleasse~” he gasped “i-i’ll be good—m- y-your good boy!” the last bit he mumbled quite shyly. you smiled wickedly knowing you weren’t gonna stop, leaning back in to kiss him pushing your tongue into his mouth—twirling around his—he broke away from the kiss with raunchy moan, looking down you felt the white liquid ooze down your hand. your boyfriend was too cute not to tease <3

the sun had barely dipped below the horizon, casting long, amber shadows across the polished hardwood floors of the music wing, but room 304 was still buzzing with the faint, residual hum of the day’s final chords. for michael, this room was a sanctuary, a fragile ecosystem of sheet music, heavy velvet curtains, and the rich, woody scent of the grand piano that occupied the center stage. teaching high school music was a chaotic endeavor—most afternoons were filled with the discordant scraping of violin bows or students treating the drum kits like toys—but there was always one hour of the day that made the endless grading and administrative noise entirely worth it.

you.

in a senior class brimming with apathy and superficial talent, you were the undisputed anomaly. you weren't just the best student in the entire graduating class; you were a force of nature when it came to music theory, composition, and performance. while your peers struggled to memorize basic chord progressions or skimmed through the syllabus just to secure an easy passing grade, you lived and breathed the curriculum. you were the type of student who arrived early just to tune the instruments, whose notebooks were filled with meticulously scribbled annotations in the margins, and whose understanding of rhythm and harmony rivaled that of seasoned musicians.

and secretly, deeper than he would ever dare to admit aloud, you were michael’s absolute favorite.

he kept his professionalism locked tight behind a gentle, encouraging smile and a soft-spoken demeanor, but internally, his entire energy shifted the moment you walked through his door. you were incredibly studious, possessed a rare, innate discipline, and approached every assignment with a quiet, burning passion that mirrored his own lifelong devotion to the art form. to michael, watching you play or listening to you dissect a complex piece of classical arrangement wasn't just a part of his job—it was the highlight of his day, a breath of fresh air in an otherwise exhausting routine.

on this particular evening, the bell had rung nearly forty minutes ago, and the rest of the campus had emptied out into the quiet twilight, yet the two of you were still caught in the orbit of the classroom. you were sitting at the piano bench, the soft glow of a desk lamp illuminating the sharp focus in your eyes as your fingers hovered over the keys, working through a particularly intricate piece of counterpoint that michael had assigned.

standing just a few paces away, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, michael watched you with a mixture of intense pride and a strange, quiet ache that he had to constantly push down. he was wearing his usual teaching attire—a slightly oversized button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a simple black vest, and his hair loosely tied back, a few stray curls framing his face. his dark eyes followed the movement of your hands, tracking the seamless transition from one chord to the next, entirely captivated by how effortlessly you commanded the instrument.

"no, wait, right there," michael said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet room like a warm melody. he stepped closer, the leather of his shoes tapping lightly against the floorboards as he leaned over the side of the piano, pointing a slender finger toward a specific measure on your sheet music. "you’re rushing the transition into the minor key. don't just play the notes, let the silence between them breathe. you have the technique down perfectly—you always do—but let yourself feel the shift."

you paused, looking up from the keys to meet his gaze. the proximity was dizzying, close enough that you could catch the faint, comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the old paper of the music books. you took a slow breath, nodding seriously as you re-centered your hands over the ivory.

"like this?" you murmured, playing the sequence again, this time deliberately lingering on the bridge, letting the melancholy of the chord hang in the quiet air of the empty room.

a genuine, breathtaking smile broke across michael’s face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with pure admiration. "yes. exactly like that. beautiful." he leaned a bit closer, his hand resting lightly on the polished wood of the piano just inches away from yours, his gaze holding yours a second longer than necessary. "i knew you'd get it right away. you always do."

the subtle shift in the air wasn't entirely lost on you. as his compliment lingered in the quiet room, you felt a sudden, distinct warmth blooming in your chest, your eyes dropping down to where his hand rested on the piano. it was so close that if you shifted your fingers just an inch, you would brush against the soft fabric of his sleeve. for a fleeting second, the space between you felt hyper-charged, heavy with an unspoken intensity that had nothing to do with sheet music or minor keys.

but you quickly shook the feeling away, forcing a polite, grateful smile to your lips.

he’s just an incredible teacher, you told yourself, packing your notebook into your bag as the silence returned to the room. he’s passionate about music, and he’s just happy to have a student who actually cares. it made perfect sense. michael was dedicated, deeply invested in his craft, and naturally gentle with everyone. there was no reason to overthink a lingering glance or a soft tone of voice. you were his top student, and this was just the bond of mentorship.

except the weeks that followed did absolutely nothing to help you keep that neat, comfortable rationale alive.

as autumn deepened, the boundaries of your ordinary student-teacher dynamic began to blur in ways that became impossible to ignore. it started with the little things during your advanced theory blocks. whenever michael lectured the class, his eyes would inevitably find yours, anchoring his gaze to the front row as if he were performing for an audience of one. if a classmate made a joke, he’d laugh, but his eyes would immediately dart to you to see if you were smiling too, sharing a silent, private language across the crowded room.

then came the afternoon study sessions. with the upcoming winter showcase approaching, you found yourself spending almost every free period in room 304, and michael never seemed to mind the intrusion. in fact, he welcomed it.

one rainy tuesday, you were sitting at a desk struggling with a complex orchestral arrangement, your fingers frustratedly tapping against the wood. without a word, michael walked over, placing a warm cup of tea right next to your papers.

"you've been staring at that page for twenty minutes," he said, his voice a low, soothing murmur as he leaned over your shoulder to look at your work. he was so close you could feel the heat radiating from him, his breath brushing past your cheek. "take a break. you're overthinking it."

"i just want it to be perfect," you admitted, your heart doing a strange, sudden flip at his proximity.

"it's already beautiful because you wrote it," he replied softly. he didn't pull away immediately. instead, his gaze dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second before he caught himself, clearing his throat and offering a small, almost nervous smile. "just... don't push yourself too hard."

by the third week, the doubt had settled deep into your mind, turning into a constant, dizzying hum. it was there when he gently guided your hands to adjust your posture at the piano, his long fingers lingering against your skin just a moment too long. it was there in the way his soft-spoken guidance became increasingly tender, and how his dark eyes seemed to hold a profound, aching vulnerability whenever the two of you were finally left alone after the final bell.

you couldn't deny it anymore. it wasn't just professional encouragement, and it wasn't just your imagination. michael was looking at you differently, treating you with a fragile, carefully guarded devotion that was starting to make your heart race every single time you walked through his door.

the university library was completely swallowed by twilight, the towering rows of oak bookshelves casting long, skeletal shadows across the carpeted floor. it was well past eight in the evening, and the usual bustling hub of students had thinned out to almost nothing. you were tucked away in a secluded corner alcove, surrounded by a fortress of heavy musicology textbooks, scribbled sheets of staff paper, and a cold cup of coffee. your eyes were burning from hours of reading, but your relentless drive to stay at the absolute top of your class kept your head buried in the pages.

the quiet click of leather shoes against the marble floor broke the silence of the aisle.

you didn't think much of it until the footsteps slowed down, stopping right at the edge of your cubicle. you blinked, lifting your heavy gaze from a complex breakdown of 19th-century symphonies, and your breath instantly caught in your throat.

standing there, half-illuminated by the dim, golden light of the library lamp, was michael.

he looked slightly undone from a long day—his tie was loosened at his collar, his dark blowed curls were beautifully unruly, and a soft wool coat was draped over his arm. he had a few reference books cradled against his chest, clearly having come to do some research of his own. when his dark eyes met yours, a look of profound surprise flickered across his face, quickly melting into something intensely tender.

"i thought i was the only one crazy enough to be losing track of time in here," michael murmured, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper to respect the silence of the library.

"just... trying to get ahead on the next composition block," you replied, your voice suddenly feeling very small, very dry.

instead of wishing you a good night and walking away, michael stepped fully into the narrow space of your alcove. the sheer size of him in the cramped corner made the air feel instantly thick, suffocatingly close. he set his books down quietly on the edge of your desk and leaned against the wooden partition, looking down at you with a gaze that was entirely devoid of his usual teacher-student boundary.

"you're always working so hard," he said softly, a faint, melancholic smile playing on his lips. he reached out, his long, slender fingers hovering over the edge of your desk before he gently, almost subconsciously, tapped the corner of your notebook. "sometimes i worry you forget to take care of yourself outside of my classroom."

in the quiet stillness of the empty library, the tension didn't just feel real—it was deafening. it was in the way the shadows fell across the sharp contours of his jaw, the way his dark eyes locked onto yours with a heavy, magnetic pull, and the absolute absence of anyone else around to pull the two of you back to reality. you could hear the steady, rhythmic ticking of a wall clock somewhere in the distance, but inside this tiny alcove, time had completely stopped.

your heart was hammering against your ribs so loudly you were terrified he could hear it. you looked from his eyes down to his parted lips, then back up, completely paralyzed by the sheer gravity of the moment. you couldn't pretend anymore. you couldn't hide behind the excuse of him just being a dedicated mentor. the raw, aching affection radiating from him was palpable, hanging in the inches between your faces like a physical weight.

"mr. jackson..." you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you used his formal name, a desperate attempt to remind both of him and yourself of where you were.

but the name seemed to have the opposite effect. hearing it slip from your lips in that breathless whisper made michael’s gaze darken with something fierce and undisguised. he leaned in just a fraction of an inch closer, his breath warm against your forehead, his eyes fixed on yours with a terrifying, beautiful vulnerability.

"michael," he corrected in a breathless undertone, his voice thick with a longing he had suppressed for months. "when it's just us like this... please."

the moment the name left your lips, the last fragile thread of restraint between you seemed to snap.

michael’s breath hitched, a soft, barely audible sound that sent a shiver straight down your spine. slowly, deliberately, he lowered his hand from the wooden partition and let his fingers brush against the back of yours. his skin was warm, his touch incredibly gentle as his long, slender fingers slid over your knuckles, tracing the sensitive skin with a slow, feather-light caress. the contrast of his large hand enveloping yours in the dim, golden light of the library alcove was dizzying.

"yes... michael," you breathed, the confession slipping out before you could even think to stop it.

his eyes darkened at the sound of his name, a look of pure, unchecked devotion washing over his features. his thumb stroked the side of your hand, a rhythmic, intoxicating motion that made the rest of the world completely fade away. the tension in the tiny space expanded, becoming so thick and electric that it felt like a physical wire stretched taut between you. he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his gaze dropping down to your lips with a heavy, magnetic longing. you could feel the heat radiating from him, his scent wrapping around you, drowning out every rational thought you had ever possessed.

but just as he tilted his head, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around yours in a unspoken plea, the distant, heavy clang of the campus clock tower chimed the hour.

the sharp sound shattered the spell.

a sudden, cold rush of reality hit you like a wave of ice water. you looked at his hand wrapped around yours, then up at his face—at your teacher, the man who gave you your grades, the man whose career and reputation hung in the balance, just like your own future. a knot of intense panic and guilt tightened in your stomach. what am i doing the thought screamed in your mind. This wasn't just a lingering look in the classroom anymore. this was dangerous. it was completely unprofessional.

with a sharp, breathless gasp, you pulled your hand out of his grip, stepping back until your chair scraped loudly against the floor.

michael blinked, looking momentarily dazed by the sudden loss of contact, his hand left hanging emptily in the air. a flash of deep hurt and immediate regret crossed his features as he realized what he had done.

"i... i can't do this," you stammered, your voice shaking as you frantically began shoving your notebooks and pens into your bag, not even caring if the pages got crumpled. your hands were trembling so badly you could barely zip it shut. "mr. jackson, this isn't... we can't. it's not professional."

michael closed his eyes for a brief second, swallowing hard as he pulled his hand back, clenching it into a fist against his side. when he looked at you again, the intense longing was still there, but it was heavily masked by a painful, guarded restraint. "i'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick and rough with emotion. "i didn't mean to—"

"i should go," you interrupted quickly, your heart hammering against your ribs as you slung the heavy bag over your shoulder. you couldn't look him in the eye, terrified that if you did, you would run right back into his arms. "it's really late. goodnight, mr. jackson."

without waiting for him to reply, you brushed past him, the fabric of your sleeves rubbing together in the narrow aisle. you hurried out of the secluded alcove and down the long, empty rows of bookshelves, leaving him standing completely alone in the shadows of the library.

the walk back to your dorm room was a blur of cold air and burning tears of sheer mortification. the moment you closed your door behind you, the weight of what had almost happened crashed down on you. you felt a suffocating, intense wave of shame pooling in your stomach. you had whispered his first name. you had let him caress your hand. you had sat there, completely paralyzed, almost letting your music professor kiss you in a dark corner of the university library.

the thought made your face flush with a deep, prickly heat. you felt incredibly embarrassed—not just because it was a dangerous violation of the rules, but because you had let your guard down so completely. you were supposed to be the top student, the serious, untouchable academic force of the graduating class. instead, you had acted like a cliché.

determined to fix your mistake, you made a silent vow to yourself that night: you were going to draw a thick, iron-clad line between yourself and mr. jackson.

when the next music block rolled around, the change in your behavior was immediate and drastic. usually, you were the first to arrive, sitting front and center, eagerly participating and exchanging knowing smiles with him. but now, you purposefully timed your arrival down to the exact last minute, slipping through the door just as the bell rang. you chose a seat near the back corner, hiding behind the larger students, keeping your eyes glued stubbornly to your desk or your notebook.

whenever he asked a complex question to the lecture hall—questions he usually directed straight at you with a spark of anticipation in his eyes—you kept your mouth shut, staring intently at your paper and pretending to be buried in notes. you stopped staying behind after the final bell. the second the class was dismissed, you packed your things in a flash and vanished into the hallway before he could even clear his throat to speak to you. you became a ghost in his classroom.

and michael noticed every single second of it.

to him, your sudden absence felt like a physical ache in the room. the vibrant, electric connection that used to fuel his teaching was completely gone, replaced by a cold, suffocating distance. during his lectures, his eyes would instinctively drift to the back corner of the room, tracking your quiet, averted gaze. he would linger on your face, his expression laced with a profound, quiet sadness that made his chest tighten. he missed your voice. he missed your insights. most of all, he missed the quiet understanding you used to share.

every time you brushed past his desk at the end of the hour without making eye contact, michael felt a heavy, dull pain in his heart. he knew exactly why you were doing it—he remembered the panic in your voice at the library—but seeing you shrink away from him, seeing the girl who loved music more than life itself suddenly trying to become invisible in his presence, was a punishment he could barely handle.

two weeks passed in this excruciating silence, the tension in the classroom building up like a heavy storm cloud, until michael finally reached his breaking point.

it was a rainy friday afternoon, and the final bell had just echoed through the hallways. true to your new routine, you shoved your binders into your backpack, keeping your head down as you stood up to escape. but just as your foot crossed the threshold of the doorway, his voice cut through the empty room—soft, trembling slightly, but carrying a weight that made your feet instantly freeze to the floorboards.

"please don't run away," michael murmured from the front of the room, his voice thick with an aching vulnerability that broke the silence. "just... give me two minutes. please."

the sound of his voice felt like a physical hand anchoring you to the spot. you closed your eyes for a brief, agonizing second, your heart instantly leaping into your throat. as much as every instinct screamed at you to run down the hallway and lose yourself in the crowd of students, you couldn't do it. he was still your professor. defying a direct, desperate plea from the man who held your academic future in his hands felt impossible, and worse, it would only make your guilt more obvious.

slowly, you turned around, the heavy straps of your backpack digging into your shoulders.

the moment you stepped back inside and the heavy wooden door clicked shut, the atmosphere in room 304 shifted entirely. the air became instantly thick, suffocating, and charged with a raw, undeniable electricity that made your skin prickle. you stood near the back row, keeping a fortress of empty desks between the two of you, but michael’s eyes tracking your every move made that distance feel entirely useless.

the tension wasn't just there; it was a living, breathing entity in the quiet room.

michael didn't stay behind his desk. instead, he began to walk toward you, his movements slow, deliberate, and entirely focused. he had discarded his usual gentle, careful demeanor; there was a newfound, intense gravity in his step that made your breath hitch. as he drew closer, navigating the rows of desks, his dark eyes never broke contact with yours. there was a fierce, burning hunger in his gaze—an unyielding, intense possessiveness that he wasn't even trying to hide anymore. it was a look that said he had endured two weeks of your silence, two weeks of you ghosting him, and he was absolutely done letting you slip away.

he stopped just a few feet away, effectively cutting off your easiest path to the exit. the sheer intensity radiating from him was dizzying. he looked down at you, his chest rising and falling with heavy, shallow breaths, his jaw set in a tight, desperate line.

"you've been hiding from me," michael murmured, his voice dropping to a low, velvety register that seemed to vibrate straight through the floorboards. it wasn't a question; it was an accusation, thick with a deep, aching frustration.

"i've just been... focusing on my work, mr. jackson," you lied, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain a professional wall, backing up until your spine pressed against the cold plaster of the wall.

but michael didn't let the lie stand. he stepped even closer, completely invading your personal space until you were trapped between the wall and the overwhelming heat of his body. he leaned in, his shadow completely enveloping you, his scent of rich cologne and old paper locking you in place. he didn't touch you, but the way he hovered over you felt entirely dominant, almost as if he were claiming every single inch of the air you breathed.

"don't do that. don't look at the floor when i'm speaking to you," he whispered, his tone carrying a soft but terrifyingly commanding edge that made your knees weak. he tilted his head, his dark curls brushing against his temple, his eyes locking onto your lips before snapping back to your eyes with a desperate, fierce intensity. "i've watched you sit in the back of my room for two weeks pretending i don't exist. you think you can just vanish? you think you can just erase what happened?"

he leaned a fraction closer, his hand coming up to rest flat against the wall right beside your head, trapping you completely within his frame. the possessive pull in his eyes was blinding now. "you are the most brilliant thing in this entire institution. you belong in the front row. you belong here, talking to me. i won't let you become a ghost because you're scared of how much we want this."

pinned beneath the heavy shadow of his frame, your breath caught completely in your throat. you looked up into his dark eyes, searching the fierce, burning intensity hidden behind his gaze, and a sudden, terrifying wave of clarity washed over you.

he was right.

the realization hit you like a physical blow, making your heart thud violently against your ribs. you couldn't deny it anymore, couldn't minimize it, and couldn't hide behind the comforting lie that it was just an overactive imagination or a simple case of academic admiration. the way the air throbbed between your bodies, the desperate heat radiating from his skin, and the sharp, electric current that zipped through you whenever he breathed your name—it was undeniable. there was a profound, dangerous, and incredibly real connection stretching between the two of you, pulling you together like a pair of opposing magnets.

but as the truth crystallized in your mind, the sheer panic inside you only grew louder.

"michael..." you whispered, your voice a fragile, trembling sound in the quiet space between your lips. you wanted to lean into his touch, wanted to close the agonizing inches left between you, but the heavy weight of reality slammed back down on your chest.

you shook your head slightly, your eyes wide with a mix of longing and pure fear as you forced yourself to look away from his intoxicating gaze. "no. i can't. even if... even if you're right, it doesn't change anything. it’s not professional. you're my teacher, michael. if anyone found out, if anyone saw us look at each other like this..."

your voice cracked, the suffocating terror of losing your academic standing, your future, and seeing his entire career ruined flashing vividly behind your eyes. you were terrified of the sheer depth of what he was offering, terrified of how easily you could lose yourself in his possessive orbit.

"i'm scared," you admitted bluntly, a lone tear finally slipping down your cheek as your hands gripped the straps of your backpack like a shield. "i want to ignore it. i have to ignore it. please, just let me go back to the way things were."

the sight of that single tear breaking down your cheek seemed to crack something wide open inside of him. the fierce, possessive tension in his shoulders instantly melted, replaced by an expression of pure, agonizing tenderness.

slowly, his hand left the wall and his long, warm fingers reached up, his thumb gently catching the tear right before it reached your jaw. his touch was so incredibly soft, a feather-light caress that sent a violent shiver straight down your spine.

"shh, don't cry. please don't cry," michael murmured, his voice dropping to a low, soothing cadence that felt like a warm blanket wrapping around your trembling frame. he leaned down a bit further, his forehead nearly resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own. "look at me. open your eyes and look at me."

you forced your eyelids open, meeting the deep, liquid warmth of his gaze.

"you think we’re the first ones to ever feel this?" he whispered, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips as his hand moved to gently cup the side of your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "people understand, darling. things like this... a connection like ours, it doesn't just happen. it's rare. it's beautiful. no one is going to ruin this for us. i won't let them. i will protect you, i promise you."

his words were like a sweet, intoxicating poison, pouring directly into your ears and wrapping around your resolve. standing this close to him, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat and the desperate sincerity in his voice, your mind was screaming at you to just let go. every single cell in your body wanted to lean into his palm, to grab the lapels of his vest and pull his lips down onto yours, to finally drown in the ocean of desire you had been fighting for weeks.

internally, you were locked in a brutal, suffocating war against yourself.

just collapse into him, a voice pleaded in the back of your mind. he loves you. he’ll protect you. just close your eyes and stop fighting.

but the logical, studious girl who had spent years working tirelessly for her future was screaming back, digging her heels into the dirt. no! it’s wrong, it’s dangerous, he’s your professor! you clenched your fists so hard your nails bit into your palms, your entire body stiffening as you fought against the magnetic pull of his chest. your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, your lips parting as you struggled to find the strength to push him away, even as your heart begged you to do the exact opposite.

the moment he felt the slight, trembling hesitation in your frame, michael leaned into it, capturing your weakness with a quiet, devastating precision. he didn't pull away. instead, his touch became bolder, shifting from a comforting gesture into something deeply tactile, intoxicating, and intensely deliberate.

his hand slid down from your cheek, his long, warm fingers wrapping around the nape of your neck, his thumb lightly stroking the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. a gasp caught in your throat as a searing jolt of electricity shot straight down your spine. but he wasn't done. his other hand came up, resting firmly against your waist, his palm burning through the thin fabric of your shirt as he gently, unyieldingly pulled your body a fraction closer to his.

the sudden, total friction of his chest pressing against yours made your head spin. you were completely trapped in his warmth, entirely enveloped by the rich, masculine scent of his cologne.

"michael..." you breathed, a desperate, broken syllable that sounded more like a plea than a protest.

"i've got you," he whispered against your skin, his voice a dark, velvety murmur that vibrated straight into your chest. he tilted his head, his lips brushing the shell of your ear before tracing a agonizingly slow line down the column of your neck. "stop fighting it, darling. just let me..."

the sheer sensory overload of his touch was making it impossible to think. every point of contact felt like a live wire, burning away the neat, professional boundaries you had fought so hard to maintain. your hands, which had been pressed flat against his chest to keep him at bay, were losing their strength, your fingers instinctively curling into the soft fabric of his vest just to keep yourself upright. your knees felt completely weak, your body betraying you by melting right into his possessive hold.

the tension in the room didn't just rise; it reached a suffocating, feverish peak. the air was thick with the sound of your ragged, uneven breathing and the heavy, rhythmic thud of his heart echoing against your own. he shifted his weight, pressing you firmer against the wall, his gaze dropping to your parted lips with an unvarnished hunger that made you feel completely exposed—and utterly, dangerously tempted. you were standing on the very edge of the cliff, your entire body aching to take that final step into the dark with him.

the distance between your faces completely evaporated. michael tilted his head, his dark eyes fixed onto yours with a heavy, unblinking intensity that made your heart hammer frantically against your ribs. his fingers tangled deeper into your hair at the nape of your neck, his thumb caressing the soft skin of your jawline with a desperate, burning tenderness that made your mind go entirely blank.

slowly, inevitably, he leaned down. you thought his lips were going to meet yours, but instead, he shifted his focus, his gaze dropping to the exposed line of your throat.

he turned his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your sensitive skin a second before his lips finally made contact.

the first kiss was a soft, feather-light brush against your collarbone, but it sent a violent jolt of pure electricity straight to your core. you let out a sharp, breathless gasp, your hands clutching tightly at the fabric of his vest. michael groaned softly at the sound, encouraged by your reaction, and began to press a slow, rhythmic trail of warm, lingering kisses up the column of your neck. his lips were soft but incredibly firm, marking your skin with a possessive, aching devotion that made the last remnants of the classroom walls completely crumble around you.

"michael... please," you whispered, the words trembling past your lips. you were trying so hard to hold back, to find that iron-clad discipline that had always defined you as a student, but your body was entirely refusing to cooperate.

every single touch of his lips was a devastating blow to your restraint. a deep, dizzying sensation was blooming in your lower stomach, a heavy, intoxicating warmth that spread through your veins like wildfire. you could feel the sharp friction of his belt buckle against your waist, the intense heat of his palm firmly anchoring your hip against the wall, and the heavy, ragged rhythm of his breathing echoing directly into your ear.

you were fighting a losing battle against your own senses. your eyes fluttered shut, your head instinctively tilting back against the plaster to give him better access, a soft, involuntary whimper escaping your throat as his lips pressed into the sensitive spot right beneath your ear. you were drowning in the sheer feeling of him, entirely consumed by a dangerous, illicit pleasure you had never experienced before.

without breaking the intoxicating rhythm of his lips against your skin, michael shifted his weight. his large hands remained locked firmly around your waist, his grip tightening just enough to guide you. with a slow, smooth deliberateness, he used the gentle pressure of his body to guide you backward, away from the cold plaster of the wall.

your heels dragged lightly against the floorboards until the back of your thighs hit the edge of one of the heavy wooden student desks.

before you could even process the change in posture, michael’s hands slid under your hips, effortlessly lifting you just enough so that you were sitting flat on top of the desk. the smooth, varnished wood was cool beneath you, a stark and grounding contrast to the overwhelming, feverish heat radiating from him.

the moment you were seated, the dynamic completely shifted. michael didn't waste a single second. he stepped forward, pushing himself flush against the desk and positioning his frame directly between your parted thighs, completely closing any remaining space between you. he was entirely commanding now, locking you into his orbit so securely that the rest of the empty classroom ceased to exist.

his hands slid back up to anchor fiercely around your waist, his long fingers digging into your skin with a brand new, unyielding intensity. the tenderness from before instantly morphed into something deeply passionate, a raw, heavy hunger that had been suppressed for months behind lesson plans and professional boundaries.

he brought his face back up to yours, his dark eyes burning with an unvarnished devotion before he buried his face right back into your neck. this time, his kisses weren't feather-light or hesitant. they were deep, bruising, and heavy with a frantic passion that left you completely breathless. his lips moved hungrily against the sensitive skin of your throat, biting softly at the juncture of your shoulder, making you arch your back instinctively into his mouth.

a ragged gasp escaped your lips, your hands flying up to tangle into the soft, thick hairs at the back of his head, pulling him even closer as the last bit of your restraint dissolved into the quiet, shadowed room.

the heavy friction of his lips against your neck was already making your thoughts fracture, but then, his touch shifted in a way that made your entire body go completely rigid.

one of his large, warm hands slowly detached from your waist. his fingers slid down the curve of your hip, moving with a torturously slow, deliberate precision until his palm brushed the fabric covering your thigh. you caught your breath, your fingers tightening convulsively into the dark curls at the back of his head, but michael was entirely consumed by the moment. slowly, his hand slipped further down, sliding directly between your parted thighs to gently, feather-lightly caress the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

the contact was electric. a sharp, searing wave of heat shot straight through your core, triggering a deep, undeniable pull in your lower stomach that you could no longer pretend wasn't there. you were becoming intensely aroused, your body reacting instantly to his dominance, the heavy ache of desire pooling between your legs with a terrifying force.

panicking at how fast your control was evaporating, you tightly closed your eyes, arching your back slightly away from him as you tried to suppress the feeling, desperate to mentally ignore the way your body was completely surrendering to his touch.

but michael felt the sudden, involuntary tremor that rippled through your frame. he felt the way your breathing hitched into a ragged, broken stutter, and how your inner thighs instinctively tensed against his hand.

he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

a low, deep hum of pure satisfaction vibrated against your throat as he realized how deeply affected you were. michael paused his kisses for a fraction of a second, lifting his head just enough to look down at you. his dark eyes were completely clouded with passion, a knowing, possessive smirk playing at the very corners of his lips as he watched your flushed face.

"you can't hide it from me, darling," he whispered against your lips, his voice a velvety, breathless growl that made your heart hammer frantically. his fingers moved just a fraction higher on your inner thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin with a light, intoxicating friction that shattered your last attempt at denial. "i can feel how much you want me. stop trying to fight it."

the cool air of the classroom hit your skin for a fraction of a second as michael’s hand slid beneath the hem of your skirt. his palm was blazing hot against your bare thigh, his long fingers tracing a slow, agonizingly deliberate path upward, moving closer and closer to your center. the sheer intimacy of the gesture, combined with the heavy weight of his body pressed firmly between your legs, sent a violent wave of heat straight to your core. you were drowning in the feeling, completely overwhelmed by how much your body was craving his touch.

but as his fingers brushed against the delicate fabric of your underwear, a sharp jolt of panic flared through your haze of arousal.

"michael... wait," you gasped out, your voice trembling as you placed your hands flat against his chest, weakly trying to create even an inch of space between you. you shook your head, your eyes wide and glossy with a mix of tears and desire. "i... i can't do this. please, mr. jackson, i really can't do this. it's wrong."

michael paused, his fingers resting still against your inner thigh, just inches away from making you completely lose your mind. he lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that was dizzying. he didn't look angry; instead, his expression was filled with a profound, unyielding certainty that made your protests feel entirely futile.

he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your lips as his hand firmly but gently anchored your waist, pressing you down against the wooden desk.

"shh, don't say that," michael murmured, his voice a low, velvety purr that completely filled your senses. he tilted his head, his thumb brushing a soft, hypnotic circle against your skin. "it's not wrong, darling. look at how much we want this. look at how perfect you feel right here with me."

"but the rules... my grades... your career..." you stammered, trying to hold onto the logic that was rapidly slipping through your fingers.

"forget about the rules," he whispered fiercely, his gaze dropping to your lips before snapping back to your eyes with absolute devotion. "it is completely possible. it's acceptable because we care about each other. no one is looking, no one is going to know. just trust me. let me take care of you."

the touch was definitive, erasing any lingering illusion of control. michael’s hand slid the final, agonizing inch, his long fingers pressing through the thin lace covering your center. the moment his palm made contact with the heat radiating from you, he felt it—the unmistakable, slick dampness soaking through the fabric, a physical testament to exactly how deeply aroused you were.

your head snapped back against the desk, a broken, trembling gasp escaping your lips as his fingers moved slightly, spreading the intense warmth across your skin.

michael let out a low, breathy chuckle, a sound thick with pure satisfaction and an unyielding, possessive triumph. he didn't pull away; instead, he leaned his entire upper body over yours, his chest flattening against your breasts, trapping you completely beneath his heavy, intoxicating frame. his eyes, dark and heavy with a dangerous level of desire, locked onto yours, forcing you to look at him as he exposed your body's betrayal.

"see?" michael whispered, his voice a velvety, wicked murmur directly against your lips. his hand remained pressed firmly between your thighs, his fingers applying a torturously slow, rhythmic pressure that made your hips instinctively twitch upward. "you can say whatever you want with your mouth, darling... but even your body says the exact opposite."

you bit your lower lip so hard you could taste copper, trying desperately to swallow the whimper that was building in your throat. you wanted to argue, wanted to cling to the shred of sanity that told you this was a classroom, that he was your professor, but the sheer, agonizing pleasure of his hand moving against your damp skin was making it impossible to form a single coherent thought.

"look at what i do to you," he purred, his thumb sliding over the lace with a deliberate, friction-filled stroke that sent a jolt of pure lightning straight to your core. "you're so wet for me. you're completely ready. stop lying to yourself, my beautiful girl. you are mine tonight."

the last barrier vanished with a quiet, rustling slide of fabric. michael’s fingers hooked into the delicate edge of your lace underwear, gently but unyieldingly pulling it to the side, completely exposing your burning, aching center to his gaze and his touch.

the sudden touch of his bare skin against yours made you let out a sharp, ragged gasp that echoed softly in the quiet room. his fingers were warm and incredibly smooth as he brought his hand back, pressing his palm flat against you, immediately smoothing the slick, heavy dampness across your sensitive skin.

he didn't rush. instead, he began to lightly, agonizingly slowly caress you, his long fingers tracing soft, rhythmic circles directly over your core.

every single stroke felt like pure lightning zipping straight through your veins. any remaining shred of your internal struggle, your panic about the rules, and your fear of the consequences completely melted away, burned to ash by the sheer intensity of the pleasure flooding your system. it felt too good. it felt absolutely incredible. a deep, helpless warmth blossomed between your thighs, and without even realizing it, your hands moved from his chest to grip his shoulders, your fingers digging tightly into the fabric of his vest as you anchored yourself to him.

you completely stopped fighting. you let your head fall back onto the smooth wood of the desk, your eyes fluttering shut as you finally let yourself submit to his touch, a soft, breathy whimper escaping your parted lips.

michael felt the exact moment your body finally surrendered to him. a look of intense, possessive satisfaction washed over his features, his dark eyes watching your flushed face with absolute devotion. he leaned down, pressing a hot, lingering kiss right to the side of your jaw, his breath trembling against your ear as his hand continued its slow, torturous friction below.

"that's it... just like that," he whispered in a low, velvety purr, his thumb shifting to apply a fraction more pressure against your most sensitive spot, making your hips instinctively twitch upward against his palm. "give it all to me, darling. you feel so perfect."

the slow, rhythmic friction against your skin had already pushed you to the absolute limit, but michael was entirely consumed by the desire to see how much deeper he could pull you into his orbit.

with a slow, heavy breath that fanned hot against your cheek, his fingers paused for a fraction of a second. then, with an agonizingly smooth and deliberate motion, he curled his long, slender finger and gently slid it inside of you.

your eyes snapped wide open for a brief second before fluttering tightly shut as a sharp, gasping cry tore from your throat. the feeling of him filling you—slick, warm, and incredibly firm—was an absolute shock to your senses. it was an entirely new tier of pleasure, a deep, heavy ache that rippled through your lower stomach and made your inner muscles instinctively clamp tight around his finger.

"oh god..." you whimpered, your hips bucking up off the wooden desk completely on instinct, desperately seeking more of the incredible friction. your fingers dug so hard into his shoulders that your knuckles turned white, your entire body trembling beneath his frame.

michael let out a low, ragged groan at your reaction, the tight, burning heat of your body squeezing around his finger making his own restraint shatter. his dark eyes flickered with a fierce, possessive pride as he watched your face twist with pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

"you like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice dropping to a dark, breathless undertone that vibrated right against your lips.

he began to move his finger, slowly sliding it in and out, testing your limits while his thumb firmly pressed down on your center outside. the combination was devastating. you were completely helpless under his touch, your head tossing from side to side on the desk as you let out a continuous string of soft, breathless whimpers. every single stroke felt like pure lightning, completely obliterating any remaining thought of the classroom, the rules, or the world outside. you were entirely his, drowning in a wave of pleasure that kept building higher and higher with every movement of his hand.

with his right hand maintaining that slow, devastating rhythm inside of you, michael’s left hand left your waist to explore the rest of your trembling body. his touch was smooth, burning hot against your skin as his long fingers slid up under the fabric of your shirt, tracing the sensitive curve of your ribs before flattening against your stomach. every single touch felt like gasoline poured on a fire, sending fresh waves of intense goosebumps rippling across your skin.

he slid his palm further up, his thumb lightly brushing against the underside of your breast through your bra, making you let out a high-pitched, broken cry that echoed loudly in the quiet, shadowed classroom.

you couldn't stay still anymore. the overwhelming sensory overload—the deep, rhythmic stretch inside you and the feverish caresses mapping out your skin—was completely driving you crazy. your hips bucked and writhed against his hand on the desk, your legs trembling violently as you subconsciously tried to swallow the friction, moving in every direction just to chase that agonizingly perfect feeling. your head tossed wildly from side to side on the wooden surface, your hair spreading out in a messy halo as a continuous stream of breathless, desperate whimpers escaped your parted lips.

michael leaned back just a fraction, his chest rising and falling with heavy, jagged breaths as he watched you unravel beneath him.

seeing you like this—completely broken down, thrashing and shaking under the absolute control of his hands—triggered something primal and fiercely possessive deep inside him. a dark, breathless smile tugged at his lips, his eyes completely wide and clouded with an unvarnished, hungry adoration. he absolutely loved seeing what he did to you. he loved that the brilliant, quiet, top student of his class was completely falling apart, reduced to a trembling, shivering mess solely because of his touch.

"look at you," michael growled softly, his voice a low, velvety whisper that vibrated with raw passion as he deliberately accelerated the pace of his finger inside you, his thumb pressing down even harder on your swollen center. "look at how beautifully you move for me, darling. you're so good... so perfect for your teacher."

the sheer intensity of the pleasure was becoming too much to bear, pushing you right to the absolute edge of a cliff you didn't want to step back from. your thoughts were completely fractured, evaporated into the heated air of the classroom. as his hand accelerated beneath your skirt, sending a devastating wave of friction straight to your core, you lost the last shred of your pride.

"michael... please, don't stop," you cried out, your voice a breathless, begging whimper that broke in the quiet room. your fingers gripped the fabric of his vest tightly, pulling him down toward you as your hips bucked up against his hand in an unspoken, desperate plea. "please, just... don't stop."

hearing those words slip from your lips—hearing his top, most disciplined student completely beg for his touch—sent a violent jolt of pure adrenaline straight through michael’s veins.

a low, deep growl of absolute triumph escaped his throat, his dark eyes darkening until they were almost completely black with desire. his satisfaction was immense, wrapping around his chest like a tight coil. it excited him to a point of pure madness to see you like this—completely unraveled, helpless, and begging him to keep commanding your body. the thrill of his control over your pleasure made his own breathing turn ragged and frantic.

"i won't stop, darling. i've got you," he whispered fiercely against your lips, his voice thick and rough with an unvarnished hunger.

he pushed himself even deeper between your thighs, locking his frame flush against yours on the desk. matching your desperation, he added a second finger inside your soaking heat, widening you completely as his thumb began to stroke your center with a fast, heavy, and merciless rhythm. the sudden fullness made your eyes roll back, your entire body shaking in every direction as you thrashed under the heavy weight of his chest. michael watched your flushed face twist with pure ecstasy, his chest heaving with heavy pants as he drove you faster and faster toward the edge, completely intoxicated by the sight of you falling apart in his hands.

the air in the room was suffocatingly hot, thick with the sound of your frantic, uneven breathing and the wet, rhythmic friction of his hand moving between your thighs. you were completely lost in the haze of it, your body shuddering with every single stroke, entirely at the mercy of his fingers.

michael paused his movements for a fraction of a second, leaving his fingers buried deep inside your soaking warmth, holding you perfectly still against the wooden desk. the sudden lack of motion made you let out a whimper of pure frustration, your hips instinctively twitching upward to seek the touch.

he leaned down, his chest pressing heavily against yours as his dark eyes locked onto your blown-out, glossy gaze. his breathing was just as ragged as yours, a stray curl falling over his forehead as a dark, fiercely possessive smile played on his lips.

"do you want more, darling?" michael murmured, his voice a low, velvety growl that vibrated straight through your core. he tilted his head, his thumb lightly pressing against your swollen center just enough to make you gasp. "tell me. do you want your teacher to give you more?"

"yes... yes, please, michael," you cried out, completely stripped of any remaining pride. you clutched at his shoulders, your voice breaking in a desperate, breathless plea. "please give me more."

hearing those words slip from your lips sent a violent, heavy rush of arousal straight to his chest. michael’s eyes darkened with absolute, unbridled satisfaction. he absolutely loved seeing you like this—so incredibly obedient, completely stripped of your usual academic restraint, and begging him for exactly what your body needed. the fact that you were actively asking for it, submitting to his authority in the middle of his own classroom, excited him to a point of pure madness.

"such a good girl," he whispered fiercely against your lips, his voice thick and rough with desire. "so obedient for me."

without making you wait another second, he slid his hand out of your skirt just long enough to frantically unbuckle his belt and lower his trousers. he positioned himself right at your soaking entrance, his large hands gripping your thighs and pulling them wide apart over the edges of the desk. he looked down at you one last time, his chest heaving with heavy, shallow breaths, completely intoxicated by how ready and willing you were for him.

the transition from the torturous friction of his fingers to the sudden, overwhelming reality of his full weight was completely breathless. michael gripped your hips with a fierce, unyielding intensity, his knuckles turning white against your skin, and with one slow, deep thrust, he slid entirely inside of you.

a loud, high-pitched gasp tore from your throat, your back arching off the wooden desk as your eyes flew wide open. the sheer fullness of him was staggering—he was so large, so incredibly warm, stretching you completely and filling the deep, aching void that had been building inside you for weeks.

for a few seconds, both of you froze, completely paralyzed and utterly subjugated by the sheer intensity of the sensation.

michael let out a low, ragged groan that vibrated deep in his chest, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his whole body shuddered. the tight, burning heat of your skin enveloping him was a sensory overload that shattered whatever remained of his professional restraint. he clung to you like a drowning man, his breathing coming in frantic, shallow pants against your skin.

clinging to his shoulders, your mind was completely spinning in a dizzying blur of ecstasy and disbelief. i'm actually doing this, the thought echoed frantically behind your closed eyelids, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. i am on a desk in room 304, being taken by my music professor. the absolute taboo of the situation, the knowledge of who he was, and the memory of him standing at the blackboard just hours ago lecturing on harmony made the pleasure ten times more acute, bordering on overwhelming.

but right alongside the shock was a wave of pure, unadulterated awe at just how incredible he felt. michael wasn't just passionate; he was precise, moving with a deep, natural rhythm that mirrored his lifelong mastery of tempo and cadence.

"michael... oh god, michael," you whimpered, your head tossing back onto the desk as he began to move.

he withdrew slowly before driving back in with a heavy, deliberate push that made you cry out, your inner muscles clamping tightly around him. he didn't rush the tempo; he kept it slow, deep, and utterly merciless, ensuring that every single stroke maximize the friction against your swollen center. the absolute mastery with which he commanded your body was terrifyingly good, completely obliterating any lingering shred of doubt or guilt. you were entirely at his mercy, utterly subjugated by the intoxicating rhythm of your teacher.

with every deep, unyielding thrust that slid inside of you, michael’s voice became another layer of your undoing. he didn't stay silent; his breath was hot and ragged against your skin, filling the quiet space of the classroom with a low, velvety commentary that made your ears burn just as hotly as your core.

"look at you... look at how perfect you take me, darling," michael growled softly, his voice thick with an unvarnished, heavy passion as he pushed deep against your center, making you let out a broken, high-pitched whimper.

he lifted his head, his dark eyes clouded with absolute devotion and an intense, possessive pride as he looked down at your flushed, undone face. his hands gripped your waist even tighter, anchoring you to the hard wood of the desk as his hips maintained that agonizingly slow, bruising rhythm.

"you're so tight for me," he whispered breathlessly, a low groan escaping his throat as your inner muscles clamped instinctively around him with every movement. "you were made for this. you were made for me, do you hear me? forget about everything else outside this room. right now, you are just my beautiful girl."

the absolute contrast of hearing his voice—usually so articulate, poised, and professional behind his podium—turn into this deep, primal murmur completely shattered your mind. you could only toss your head back against the varnished wood, your fingers digging frantically into his shoulders, leaving red marks through his shirt as you tried to ride the overwhelming waves of pleasure he was dictating.

"michael... please," you gasped out, your voice fracturing as he hit a spot deep inside that made your entire body shudder violently.

"tell me how it feels," he commanded softly, his tempo accelerating just a fraction, matching the desperate hitch in your breathing. he leaned down, his lips brushing against your earlobe, his voice dropping to a dark, intoxicating purr. "tell your professor how good it feels to let go. say it, darling."

"it feels... so good... please, michael," you cried out, completely stripped of your defenses, utterly obedient to his voice as the friction built to a suffocating, feverish peak between your thighs.

the visual in the dim light of the classroom was nothing short of breathtaking—a scene of pure, unadulterated eroticism. there you were, completely undone, your body arching and moving in every direction against the hard surface of the wooden desk, driven entirely by the overwhelming pleasure flooding your senses. your hair was spread out in a wild halo, your skin flushed and slick with a fine sheen of sweat, and your hips instinctively chasing the heavy, rhythmic friction of his body.

and above you was michael, dominating the space with a striking, hypnotic contrast of power and profound delicacy.

even as he drove deep inside you, his movements possessed an innate, poetic grace. he didn’t treat you roughly; instead, he took you with a fierce tenderness, his large hands worshiping every single inch of your body. while his hips maintained a relentless, intoxicating tempo that made you cry out, his left hand slid up from your waist, his long fingers trailing a path of fire across your stomach, over the curve of your ribs, and up to the sensitive skin of your throat.

every touch of his palm was a breathless caress, mapping out your frame as if he were memorizing the very blueprint of your pleasure.

he leaned down lower, his chest flattening against yours, pinning you softly beneath his heavy, warm frame while his lips traced a frantic line of kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. you were thrashing beneath him, completely helpless and vibrating with ecstasy, while he anchored you with absolute devotion, his dark eyes fixed on your face to drink in every beautiful, vulnerable expression you made. the sight of your total surrender—coupled with the gentle, possessive mastery of his hands roaming all over your bare skin—turned the empty classroom into a private sanctuary of pure, suffocating desire.

he didn't let you drown in the silence of the room. with every heavy, deep slide of his hips against yours, michael kept his lips pressed close to your skin, his voice a ragged, breathless murmur that vibrated directly into your core.

"you feel so incredible, darling," he panted, his hands sliding underneath your lower back to lift you slightly, tilting your pelvis to make the contact even deeper, even more devastating. "look at me. open your eyes for me."

your eyelids fluttered open, your vision blurred with tears of pure ecstasy, only to find his dark eyes burning down into yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

"you're doing so well for your teacher," he whispered fiercely, a low groan escaping his throat as your tight warmth squeezed around him. "tell me you're mine. say it, beautiful. tell me you belong to me in this room."

"i'm... i'm yours, michael," you cried out, your voice fracturing into a breathless sob as he drove deep into that perfect spot inside you once again.

"yes, you are," he purred, his tempo accelerating just a fraction, matching the frantic rhythm of your racing heart. his fingers caressed the side of your face, brushing away a damp strand of hair with absolute, consuming devotion. "forget the world outside. right now, this is our classroom, and you are learning exactly how much i love you."

the quiet, empty classroom was completely filled with the sound of your undoing. you couldn't hold it back anymore; with every deep, relentless push of his hips, a loud, trembling moan escaped your lips, echoing softly against the high walls and the chalkboard. your whimpers turned into high-pitched, breathless gasps, a continuous string of pure pleasure that you couldn't suppress even if you tried.

hearing those beautiful, broken noises coming from you drove michael absolutely wild.

a heavy, ragged groan tore from his chest, his whole body shuddering against yours as he buried his face deep in your neck. the sound of your moans was like gasoline on a fire, pushing his excitement to a point of pure madness. he loved it. he loved hearing exactly how much he was making you feel, knowing that every single breathless cry was entirely because of him.

he lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes wide and darkened with a heavy, hungry satisfaction as he watched your flushed face. seeing your eyes rolled back, your lips parted as you cried out his name, and your body shaking in every direction beneath him gave him a feeling of absolute, intoxicating power.

"yes, darling... cry out for me," michael growled breathlessly, his voice thick and rough with passion as he deliberately accelerated the tempo, his thrusts becoming faster and harder against your soaking center. "let me hear you. i want to hear exactly how good your teacher is making you feel."

the overwhelming build-up of friction was becoming too much to handle, a tight, electric coil winding tighter and tighter deep inside your lower stomach. with every fast, breathless thrust michael made, the pressure intensified until you could feel the edge right there, just seconds away. knowing you were so close to the precipice didn't make you hold back; instead, it gave you a sudden, frantic rush of motivation.

your hips began to move even faster against his, arching up off the wooden desk completely on instinct to meet every deep push, desperately chasing that final, shattering release.

"michael... oh god, michael, i'm... i'm close," you cried out, your voice breaking into a ragged, desperate sob as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist to pull him even deeper inside you.

seeing your sudden surge of desperate energy, michael let out a low, victorious growl that vibrated heavily against your chest. he felt the intense, involuntary tremors beginning to ripple through your inner muscles, clamping around him like a vice, and it pushed him right over the edge of his own control. his hands gripped your hips with an unyielding, bruising force, locking you in place as he threw his entire weight into a fast, merciless, and blindingly deep rhythm, driving both of you straight toward the finish line.

he felt the frantic, helpless tightening of your body around him, your breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps as you teetered on the very edge of the precipice. a heavy, ragged sigh escaped his lips, his dark eyes fixed entirely on your flushed face, watching the pure ecstasy take over your features.

"go ahead, darling... just let yourself go," michael whispered fiercely against your mouth, his voice dropping to a low, velvety command that completely broke your remaining restraint.

"give it all to me," he growled breathlessly, his hips driving into yours with a final, mercilessly deep tempo that sent you completely over the edge, anchoring you tightly as your world completely shattered into brilliant waves of pleasure.

the sight of your body completely convulsing beneath him, your eyes rolling back as you surrendered to a shattering climax, was the absolute breaking point for his restraint. the tight, rhythmic squeezing of your inner muscles around him sent a violent, blinding shockwave straight through his entire frame.

michael let out a low, deeply primal roar of pure triumph, his voice thick and entirely unrecognizable as it echoed off the classroom walls.

his fingers dug bruisingly deep into the soft skin of your hips, locking you flat against the wooden desk as his body took over completely. with three final, heavy, and devastatingly deep thrusts, his entire frame shuddered violently. he collapsed heavily against your chest, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he released everything inside you, his breath coming in ragged, frantic gasps against your burning skin as both of your heartbeats hammered wildly together in the quiet room.

the heavy, suffocating heat of the classroom slowly began to settle around you, the only sound left being the ragged, synchronized rhythm of your breathing. michael didn't move. he stayed exactly where he was, his full weight pressing you down against the smooth wood of the desk, his face buried deep in the crook of your neck as his heart hammered wildly against your ribs. his skin was hot, slick with a fine sheen of sweat, and he held you with a quiet, fierce intensity, as if letting go would mean letting the reality of the outside world rush back in too soon.

for a long, quiet moment, he just held you, his chest rising and falling in deep, exhausted pants.

slowly, the frantic racing of his pulse began to ease. with a soft, trembling sigh that fanned warm against your collarbone, michael shifted his weight. he pushed himself up slightly, resting his forearms on either side of your head so he could look down at you. his dark eyes were incredibly soft, completely cleared of that heavy, hungry clouds of desire, replaced instead by a gaze of pure, unvarnished devotion.

he reached up with one long, slender hand, his thumb gently brushing a damp lock of hair away from your flushed cheek, his touch incredibly tender.

"darling..." he murmured, his voice a low, velvety whisper that sounded completely raw in the quiet room. he stared down at your undone, breathless state, a faint, melancholic smile touching his lips. "i need you to listen to me for a moment. just look at me."

you blinked your glossy, heavy eyes open, looking up into the face of your professor, your heart still fluttering from the aftershocks of his touch.

"from the very first day you walked into my classroom... i knew," he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the line of your jaw. "i sat behind that podium, watching everyone else just drift through the lessons, but you... you were entirely different. i saw it in the way you listened to the music, the way your mind worked, the quiet discipline you carried yourself with. you had this brilliance, this deep, rare understanding that completely captivated me from the start."

he leaned down slightly, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before looking back into your eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"i tried to be just your teacher. god knows i tried to keep that distance, to follow the rules," michael confessed softly, a low, breathy laugh escaping his chest. "but it was impossible. every single day, seeing you sit there, you completely pulled me in. you are so special, darling. so completely unique. i knew from the beginning that we were going to end up right here... because a soul like yours doesn't just come along every day. you're the only one who truly understands me."

hearing his words—hearing the deep, vulnerable confession coming from the man you had admired from afar for so long—felt like a final, beautiful shattering of the wall you had built around your heart. the tears that had blurred your vision finally slipped down your cheeks, warm and free, as a shaky, breathless laugh escaped your lips.

you reached up, your trembling fingers wrapping around the back of his neck, pulling him just a fraction closer so you could look directly into his dark, earnest eyes.

"i love you too, michael," you whispered, your voice cracking with the sheer weight of the emotion you had kept hidden for months. "i love you so much... and it completely terrified me. every single day i walked into this room, i was so scared of what i was feeling, scared of how much power you had over me just by standing there."

michael’s eyes widened slightly, a profound, breathtaking softness melting across his features as he listened to you speak your truth.

"i thought i was losing my mind, thinking about my professor like this," you continued, a soft, relieved smile breaking through your tears as your thumb brushed against the soft skin of his nape. "but hearing you say all of this... knowing that you feel the exact same way about me... i'm just so incredibly happy. i've never been happier, michael."

a radiant, incredibly tender smile broke across michael’s face, erasing every last trace of his usual gravity. he let out a low, breathy sigh of pure relief, leaning down to press his forehead firmly against yours, his closed eyes squeezing tight as if to lock this exact moment into his memory forever.

"oh, darling," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as his hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears on your cheeks. "you have no idea how much it means to hear you say that. you don't ever have to be afraid with me. we're in this together now."

the heavy weight of the secret they now shared seemed to soften the air around them. michael slowly shifted, carefully withdrawing from you with a low, reluctant sigh. instead of immediately pulling away, he remained close, his hands remaining incredibly gentle as he began to help you sit up on the smooth wood of the desk.

your body felt completely heavy, liquid and beautifully exhausted from the sheer intensity of what had just happened. seeing your slight tremble, michael immediately moved to support you, placing a strong, steady arm behind your back to guide you up.

with an innate sense of chivalry and care, he didn't just let you fend for yourself. he reached down for your scattered clothing, his long fingers carefully gathering the fabric. one by one, he helped you slip your clothes back on, his movements completely devoid of urgency, treated with the same meticulous precision and tenderness he gave to everything else. he smoothed down your shirt, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a brief moment just to ground you.

once you were fully dressed and sitting securely, michael stepped closer, framing your face with both of his large, warm hands.

his thumbs lightly traced the curve of your cheekbones, wiping away the very last traces of tears and sweat. he looked down at you with a gaze so pure and fiercely protective that it completely banished any lingering shred of anxiety or guilt that might have tried to creep back into your mind.

"look at me, darling," michael murmured, his voice a low, velvety purr that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. a soft, incredibly reassuring smile touched his lips as he leaned down to press a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead. "everything is okay. all that fear, all that worrying... it's gone now. everything is going to be alright now, i promise you."

Michael didn’t mean to listen in on his older brothers, but he couldn’t help but listen as the conversation got raunchier. He continued drawing in his notebook as their laughter only got louder.

“Okay but what’s better giving or getting?” Tito asked. “Oh I love to eat.” Jackie shrugged. “I don’t know man, I’m more of a receiver.” Jermaine said.

Michael’s eyebrows raised, eyes darting up quickly to view his brothers lounging around the living room. Eat? He wondered but he was too scared to ask questions but he believes he was getting the gist.

“Man I made this one girl cum from my tongue, she been obsessed ever since.” Jackie shook his head with a laugh. Michael was officially intrigued but still acted as if he wasn’t listening. He gently chewed on his bottom lip, the idea of pleasing someone else sounding a bit too interesting in his head.

It was night time and he was under the covers trying to go to sleep. For some reason he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. He hasn’t even kissed a girl, better yet be in a relationship. Hearing about his brother’s experience sparked an igniting light in his head that wouldn’t go out.

The only girl he had contact with outside of family was his childhood best friend. She was a carbon copy of him, the two quiet—but talented—kids always in their own world.

They were practically attached at the hip, and the family allowed her around often, her quiet and sweet nature triggering a sense of a protective empathetic energy in all of them.

Maybe she knows something about it, and would be willing to teach him. His eyes drifted off, his bestfriend in his mind.

“Hi Mikey.” The girl enthusiastically said practically skipping inside of his room. “Hi pretty!” He excitedly said reaching the middle to wrap his arms around her.

He invited the girl that morning, ready to ask her if she could teach him how to go down on her. He trusted her like no other, and she was always honest and kind to him.

They embraced each other in a hug. No matter how many times they see each other, they have the same reaction everytime. He pulled away and glanced at her outfit, his eyebrows shooting up.

He couldn’t ignore the way his heartbeat picked up seeing her plaid two piece outfit. The soft supple skin of her thighs and tummy were visible and he unconsciously clenched his jaw.

She noticed his eyes on her outfit, “do you like it?” She smiled doing a spin, making his eyes drop to the fat of her ass. He took a sharp inhale, feeling the twitch in his boxers.

Of course there were times he looked at his best friend in a non platonic manner, she was absolutely beautiful in his eyes. He never made it obvious, always calming himself down before he could make any rash decisions.

“Y-yes it’s so nice.” He said as she turned to make eye contact with him. He suddenly felt too nervous to ask, the question seeming more daunting than before.

She took a seat on his bed, her white sock covered feet swinging in the air. “Why do you look so nervous?” She giggled causing a warmth to spread in his heart.

“No, I’m fine.” He gave her an angelic smile hiding the fact he’s itching to touch every single part of her. He took a seat next to her staring at his lap as he fiddled with his fingers.

Her presence next to him felt heavy, a thick heavy feeling. “You know you can talk to me Mikey.” Her angelic voice reassured him, nudging his shoulder. His eyes averted to her thick thighs, skin seeming freshly moisturized.

“I-I wanted to ask if you ev-” his words were cut off as his door fully opened showcasing Randy. “Mike we’re about to head out for lunch. Did you guys want to come?” The younger boy asked.

Michael glanced at you before shaking his head, “we’ll stay here.” He answered seeing this as the perfect opportunity. His hands felt clammy even thinking about it but had a feeling of excitement as well.

“Did you want me to bring you anything?” Randy asked, eyes landing on her. Michael wanted to roll his eyes but resisted, Randy’s crush on the older girl has been more than obvious.

“I’m okay, thank you Randy.” She smiled and he nodded sheepishly closing the door fully. As the door clicks shut, the gravity of his mind settled back.

“What were you gonna ask?” She turned to face him now sitting criss cross on his bed. His eyes darted towards the middle of her shorts, glancing back up at her eyes hoping she didn’t notice.

“H-have you ever been um…licked?” He asked suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. Her eyebrows pinched together in confusion, “like a puppy?”

He shook his head, “not really, like…licked down there.” He said motioning between her legs. Her eyes widened, breath catching in her chest.

She shook her head quickly, face heating up at the thought. The vivid imagination of Michael’s face slurping at her middle made her stomach flip. She blinked rapidly trying to shoo the thought away as she felt herself get wet.

“Oh! I-I heard my brothers mention it. C-can we try it?—we don’t have to if you don’t want to, I was just curious.” He spout, words flowing so quickly not giving her time to process.

His eyes looked down in shame, feeling as if she was going to slap him and run out at any minute. “O-okay we can.” She answered making him look at her in shock.

“R-really?” He was surprised she agreed, and she nodded shyly. The two sat in a silence for a minute, not too sure of how to start. The room felt smaller even while they were the only two in the house.

She cleared her throat and scooted back a bit lying flat on her back. His eyes trailed her body, licking his lips. She looked at his eyes, a bit darker than normal. “O-okay, I’m going to take your shorts off now.” He told her.

She nodded, and his shaky hands reached up grasping the waistband of the plaid shorts. He tugged them down her legs, boner jumping at the view her white panties.

He almost drooled noticing the wet spot feeling like a dog. Her chest moved up and down, feeling even more turned on at him looking at her panties.

“Y-you can take ‘em off.” She told him and his doe eyes glanced up at her face nodding. He gently grabbed at the waistband of her panties, feeling even more nervous.

He was so close to her bare pussy being right in front of his face. He could practically smell her arousal, shifting his hips at the tight space in his boxers.

He glided them down her legs until they reached his carpet. He choked back a moan seeing her glistening pussy, saliva filled his mouth, the desire to lick her becoming stronger.

“W-where should I lick?” He asked practically shaking. As much as he wants to go in, he wants to make sure he’s doing it right. “Um…” she sat up on her elbows trying to think of where he should start.

She never exactly analyzed her private parts, occasionally rutting against a pillow at night when she couldn’t help herself. Thoughts of Michael’s hand touching her, plaguing her mind through the night.

“try right there.” She said spreading her folds with one hand, and using her pointer finger to motion towards her clit. He nodded, biting his bottom lip at her spreading herself for him.

He leaned in, meeting her eyes, not wanting to miss her reaction just in case. His hands settled on the edge of the bed as his tongue came out to deliver a soft lick against her clit.

The wet warm touch caused her to let out a small moan, immediately feeling the pleasure from the small contact. He swallowed, her taste becoming addictive to him. She tasted so plain with a slight sweetness to it. He couldn’t help but wanted more.

“Should I keep goin’?” He asked curiously and she nodded. “Please.”

His eyes fluttered close at her pleas as his tongue met her cunt once again, flicking her clit around. Her moans became a bit louder as they naturally flowed out of her mouth.

Noticing her moans of pleasure, he took a chance and suctioned his mouth around her clit, giving it a gentle suck to test the waters. It seemed as if she absolutely crumbled, letting out a cry looking down at him.

His doe eyes met hers back, disconnecting his lips in worry. “Are you okay?” He asked with concern. She nodded quickly, desperate to feel his mouth again. “d-do it again please!” She begged. He didn’t hesitate to comply going back to suck on her clit.

Her hips bucked into his mouth, catching him by surprise. Her hand grasped his soft curls making him whimper into her. He finally found the courage—or maybe just his mind clouded by her taste—and brought his hands to hold open her legs.

Hunger surged through him, flattening his tongue on her pussy, dragging it up and down. “Mikey! I-it’s feels so good.” Her whiny voice called out making his dick jump.

He was in absolute heaven having his best friend spread out for him while letting him eat her soaking pussy. One of his hands trailed down his body landing at his denim jeans. His tongue didn’t stop its movement as he unbuttoned his jeans, tugging them down along with his boxers.

His hard flushed eased out, air brushing against it. He wrapped his hand around his thick dick, pulsing in his hand. The whimper he let out was buried in her pussy as he continued to eat, stroking his dick while he was at it.

Her hips continued to buck into his mouth, eyes rolling back as her hand gripped his curls in ecstasy. It felt like she was having an out of body experience as his tongue swirled around, making sloppy noises as he ate.

“Mikey oh my god!” She squealed. His pre-cum eased out of his tip, wetting his dick in the process as he stroked it rapidly, chasing his own release of pleasure. Her legs shook on the verge of closing in on his head.

His free hand kept a tight grip on her thigh not wanting to let up. He lapped at her, coating his jaw and nose with her wetness. “Mikey…it’s gon’ come out.” She whined not knowing the exact word for it.

“Man I made this one girl cum from my tongue, she been obsessed ever since.”

Jackie’s words crossed his mind. Maybe that’s what she’s about to do.

Michael continued only seeming more aggressive with his movements. The quick fapping sound from his hand collided with the sounds of his slurping causing her eyes to roll back realizing he’s pleasuring himself as well.

Feeling his own release grow closer, his moans slipped between his constant nuzzling of his tongue. As she was on the tip of her release, her wet hole slightly opened. Michael’s tongue naturally slipped inside.

Her hands gripped the sheets tightly as his tongue continuously shoved inside her. He realized he was practically fucking her with his mouth, the thought making his own eyes roll back.

Her mouth dropped open in a silent moan as she began to gush on his tongue. Her legs shook, entire body twitching on his bed. It felt like everything just went quiet in her head as she felt the crash of her orgasm.

As he felt her contract against his tongue, he finally fisted his own orgasm out of his himself, covering his fist with ropes of his nut, hips bucking into his hand.

His mouth didn’t come up off of her even as she whined, his mind was too focused on emptying his balls with his tongue buried inside of her. He delivered the last few final sucks on her clit before laying his head on her thigh.

They both panted heavily, the house now quiet. “W-was that okay pretty?” He asked glancing up at her face. She nodded not finding the words to speak, clit throbbing at the most intense orgasm she ever had.