Here's where my dirty mind comes out

It doesn't happen a lot, but somedays this man just needs you to reassure him that everything will be alright. He may be percieved as the Boogeyman, but he does have some emotions, even if it's very rare that he ever expresses them.

When he's in a mood where he needs you, you often have to address it.

He's typically fairly reserved, hiding away in your shared room or the spare room of the house. Hoping that you'll come and find him, pull him in for a hug and hold him close. Even if he hardly reacts to the embrace, he appreciates them more than you know.

He gets upset with you if you don't come find him, but that's rare. Especially since normally when he is in the house with you, he's near you. Whether it be siting next to you on the couch, laying in the bed with you, sitting at the table while you cook. He's always got to be near you, to know that you're alright and nothings happened to you.

Another indicator if the two of you are deep in the relationship is he has his mask on in the house. Those are normally days/nights where he's feeling like the moster he knows he is.

He likes it when you pull him into bed. Whether it be to hold him and play with his hair when he clings to you, or you showing him how much you appreciate him.

Nights like these are nights he might let you take the lead in sex. Whether it be riding him or giving him head without him fucking your face. It's still rare, though.

More often than not, if you take the lead that night he's taking it right back. He's gonna be fucking you, reminding you who's in control, just he's a lot softer with it than his normal fucking. It's more so his version of making love with you, doesn't mean you still won't be able to walk in the morning.

He also loves it if you cover him in kisses. Especially his chest and neck. He often likes to keep his mask on in these moods, and it takes him a bit of convincing before he lets you pull it off. He enjoys sloppy kisses once you convince him to take it off though. Along with butterfly kisses all over his face.

Movie nights are grand. Especially comedy, horror, or horror-comedy. He enjoys horror especially if you're the type to make fun of the victims if they pull something dumb around the killer. He lets out short chuckles whenever you mock them. It's a very domestic feel for him when the both of you watch movies together, and he really finds a lot of comfort in it.

If you smoke, he might even join you in on a smoke sesh, some nights it calms him. Only if you're okay with him not letting you go once the weed kicks in. Mans gonna have his face burried in your stomach or chest and either fall asleep or fuck you silly.

A nice bath or shower with you is also nice, though it often leads to you guys dirty again and water everywhere, and he refuses to let you clean it until he's done with you.

• Billy Lenz

Having such rare moments of the sorority house being fully empty (it’s rare, but it happens!), paired with Billy’s restlessness, you’re bound to find yourself tangled up in his arms somewhere in the mix. Billy doesn’t always have much company to look forward to, other than Claude who climbs into the attic from time to time, filling the empty feeling momentarily as he waits for you. He’ll take full advantage of these days, (despite you dragging him into the bathroom and shower) with him lounging about on the couch in the living room and raiding the pantry off its snacks. Billy’s attention flickers onto you afterward, his favourite piggy, who he is extremely eager to wrap his arms around firmly. He’s quick to ramble once he has his hands on you, mumbling his affection and compliments to you in a haphazard manner.

Billy also enjoys spending the time watching you do your everyday routine, a dazed grin prevalent on his face. He’s constantly asking questions about the things you’re doing as well, learning along the way, with him changing up his nicknames a little more.

•  Bubba Sawyer

With all that hard work Bubba puts in to keep you and his family safe, the youngest would get rewarded by the season as it provides him with free weeks on end. A rare period of time with little to no trespassers intruding on their home? He’d get an even rarer opportunity to spend more time with you? Oh, Bubba’s excited at that notion. In fact, it’s causing him to be extra talkative, taking this time at an attempt to praise every inch of you—even going as far to pepper multiple kisses on said part of your body. Please do the same for him as well! He’ll blush furiously and be bashful for the entire day. Sheepishly, Bubba will try to imitate your actions, though it would be quite over the top and very much outside his comfort zone. Especially with the embarrassed squeaks he’d make—while endearing to you—attracting the rambunctious Chop-Top and Nubbins to your location, before they begin chattering off loud enough for the eldest of the Sawyer brothers to hear. Lord, have mercy.

Bubba would use the free time making more of his masks, having saved a few of the victims’ heads in the freezer for later use. He’d appreciate the extra company with you seated on the floor with him—Bubba working on the newest mask he got, and you working on your own projects.

• Ghostface 

  • Billy Loomis 

Billy’s whole shtick with his ‘tough guy’ attitude unfortunately does not go away completely, even when he is with you. This time around, however? It’s Billy against himself. One way you can intercept a genuine glint of himself is through multiple movie nights—horror movies, to be specific. That’s where you’ll find it easier to hold onto him in which Billy would respond by returning the affection, hugging you close to his chest. He’d say it was because of your apparent ‘fear’, that he decided to step in and ‘protect’ you. Play along with it at least, he’s trying to soften himself up for you. This does not mean you should completely stop yourself from doting on him, but don’t let it lead up to the point where you fuss about him every second. Doing so brings up on the parenting complications he has, which would irritate him.

Billy’s favourite way of spending long, boring days is through those cheesy, romantic couple dates. Perhaps it’s jarring to see, but he’s taking some of the inspiration from a few romance movies to get a few ideas about what to do.

  • Stu Macher

He smothers you in affection, being the more physically involved person in comparison to his partner in crime. On slow days where Stu has no target in mind to stalk and scare, he’s big on spending his nights (or even days) with you. Stu would wrap his arms around you tightly, his grip clinging onto your figure in a way—as if he were afraid of losing you. Contrary to what one might believe, Stu honestly prefers to be the one providing affection rather than be on the receiving end of it. Stu is very sure of his own desires and he is extremely upfront about it, leaving no room for confusion. Quoting him word for word, you’re dating the real him now, there is no real reason for him to beat around the bush if it’s something that he really wants, you know.

Stu enjoys sleeping during these days, his eyes already half lidded as he settles in your bedroom. Once he has a taste of cuddling whilst he’s asleep, removing him would be similar in attempting to remove your own skin.

• Jason Voorhees

Jason’s slower days are dependent on the season and weather conditions—Oh, bless Mother Nature whenever they do occur. It means that Jason could enjoy his time with you for much longer and show his affection for you in a much more direct manner. Huddled snuggling  is the furthest extent that Jason would go on his own, but he’s not against any affection you choose on doing. If you plan to leave kisses on his face, masked or not, just be ready for him to sweep you off your feet with a bear crushing hug paired with him gently nuzzling the crook of your neck. His eyes would be half lidded, bringing you back to the cabin for additional attention. Despite it being a slow day as mentioned, Jason’s not taking any chances. His affections are for your eyes only, and he’d be livid if someone dared soil the special feeling he’s having with their presence in his home.

Jason takes his free time and uses it productively, especially using it to renovate and improve the cabin he lives in (alongside the rat cave that he’s kept hidden). Hard working Jason would be busy as he does so, hammering in a few nails to stabilise the pillars of the cabin.

• Michael Myers 

  • '78/OG

Despite the days being considered as slow, OG prefers to be out and about, tracking mud and dirt onto the front porch in the process. He would rather not stay confined within the walls of your shared home, lest you would like to see a restless boogeyman with an equally frustrated burst of bloodlust overtaking him in the meantime. Chances are that OG would be extra cruel to the victims after a somewhat longer period of staying still in one place. It’s much better for you to close one eye and let him leave whenever, it’ll be best for you and the town of Haddonfield. Despite his constant moving about, one thing that is ensured is that he continues on watching you whenever he is done after a round of killing in town. It assures him in a way that you are safe. His mask obstructs his facial expressions, though you’ll be able to tell what he’s trying to get through his body language—with trial and error, of course.

OG does try to provide affection during these days, making use of his constant visits into the homes of the other neighbours to find a gift to make up for his lack of presence in the home. OG would also sometimes take a risk and awkwardly pet your head when he’s returned home.

  • RZ

Unlike his original counterpart, RZ embraces these quieter and freer days even more. He chooses to stay within the house, the man content with lazing around with you, seeming eager to soak in the affection that you shower him in almost entirely. RZ is big on cuddling, despite his stiff body language saying otherwise. He attempts to jump out of his comfort zone, sneaking his fingers into your hair as he combs through it gently during your many nap times. Please do not act surprised, as he often assumes that the expression other than you smiling at him meant that he had hurt you in some way. His blank gaze settles on you from time to time as well, even if he were sitting on the couch and you had been in the kitchen. Stares from him often linger for much longer, and if you happened to be lucky, you’ll see his blue eyes soften a smidgen.

RZ is taking his free time by making his masks, though now there appears to be two—with one seemingly made for you. It is a sight, seeing RZ at the dining table with his figure hunched over, his nimble fingers gently smoothing over the paper mache to form it into the right shape.

•  Thomas Hewitt

Free days? Ones especially for him? Thomas is not at all greedy, but he’s taking every chance he’d get to milk the opportunity to do so whenever it arises. These slow days don’t come often, and it seems every time he thought about it on a busy  day, it always led him to be tasked with a couple more chores as ordered and demanded by Hoyt. That day in particular led to your sweet lover returning to your bedroom exhausted and tired, falling asleep as soon as he laid on the mattress with you hugged close to his chest. Despite that, Thomas is quick to start the slow day off with sleeping in a couple more hours, though he’s always waking up earlier to fondly stare at you sleeping, his gaze adoring every bit of you before he gently wakes you with shyly enacted morning kisses. You are luckier on some days, giving you the perfect opportunity to wake your sleeping giant up with kisses as well.

Thomas is taking this chance on sleeping the hours he had lost, though he’s content with sitting at the couch and having you in his lap. Thomas has a knack for blocking out noise when it doesn’t concern him, so you can be assured that he would not move anytime soon.

His ‘what the fuck?’ is written all over the still way he watches you and the furrow of his brows from behind one of his more casual paper masks. You chuckle, the feel of his thumb brushing back and forth over your leg lulling you, and tell him all about stumbling across the little stuffed abomination at a farmers market and the man regaling you with the tail of the severed plush head of a Star Trek doll that he’d customized and the body he’d sewn up by hand all in the likeness of Haddonfield’s most prolific masked killer: your technically boyfriend.

‘Technically’ because Michael didn’t put a name to shit — you were his, there didn’t need to be anything else to it — but he sure loved to act the part.

When you sweep his hair out his face after explaining and kiss him, lips pressing to his mask-covered cheek, you have to be extra careful not to damage the mask‘s light material. At this point, though, you’ve gotten so used to his homemade masks that when you follow that peck up with a kiss to his lips from the wide grinning slot he carefully cut for his mouth you’re not even worried about accidentally ruining it.

The way his lips don’t purse back against your own is a constant, but when his hands tighten over your thighs and he pulls you closer it’s the greatest gift and a significant sign of his hard won trust.

Michael doesn’t do much with the plushie of himself, but he does keep it.

Takes to stashing it in various places around the house for you to be startled by when you open the pantry and the blank eye holes are just…staring back at you. Sends a shiver down your spine and a jolt to your heart every time even if you calm down fairly quickly, but no doubt, if he’s around, you’ll turn from the plush only to be startled by Michael too.

Michael who’s snuck up on you, horribly quiet for such a giant of a man, and whose nearly ebon eyes behind his mask and curtain of hair are tinged with a sick amusement.

If Michael isn’t trying to scare you into a bad fall, I don’t think he’d do much with the plush otherwise.

In fact, if you favored his mini me over him — in his mind — at least, he’d probably gut the plushie of himself. Leave it as some sort of fucked up mangled offering. Tiny body displayed with sticks through its disconnected limps and head for your very startled consideration.

Irritated. He’ll be irritated by the plushie, mad like fuck that he’s vex at all, and ultimately just want the thing gone. Your attention was his.

If that doesn’t happen, though, you’ll find mini Michael sitting on the real man’s work table, Michael himself crafting a mask with whatever supplies you’ve…supplied him with while the plushie watches over his work.

It doesn’t mean anything to Michael that the plush is watching, that’s just how he’s positioned it. But it reminds him of you and that does matter.

You take a picture anyway, and vow to never show the polaroid to Michael lest he tear it up for the chance to get your anger pushing up against his.

Mostly, the little plush serves as an unwavering companion for you on cold nights when he’s far from your home hunting down ghosts and killing any sorry people that stumble across him that he deems in need of a good gutting, or maybe a strangulation.

Two days before October 31 is about to make it back around and Michael’s about to start his walk for the heart of Haddonfield you’re reading on your couch with a playlist going — anything from the “The Ghost Is Here” to “Spookie Coochie” to “God Of Thunder” playing — when he drops mini Michael in your lap, knocking your book or device aside.

Michael doesn’t elaborate, but it’s clear from how he’s dressed that he’s going, and you’re not unaware of the time of the year so you only kiss him goodbye and tell him to come back to you because you are unerringly selfish.

Before he leaves the house in full Michael will find you wherever you are and press a reciprocal kiss to your head, whether masked or not, and you tell him bye like he’s your blue collar husband off to a long shift and not the serial killer who’s claimed you as his off to make the streets of a small town in Illinois run red.

On Halloween nights it’s hard to keep Michael home, so you don’t even try anymore. Leading up to the night you do celebrate the holiday, however, carving pumpkins and listening to some kind of metal or rock playlist he prefers, or watching a movie with Little Mikey in your lap in his tiny brown coveralls and the actual Michael sitting flush beside you as he violates his own Jack o’ Lantern.

On Halloween night itself Michael goes out to wreak havoc, to show Haddonfield (or any manner of other shit humanity has to offer) his singleminded wrath.

While waiting for him to get back you’re…anxious (you shouldn’t be, but you are; the world never did much for you anyway). And worried, you stay up all night with the stupid plush of Michael held to your chest.

Waiting, you fiddle with the plushie’s hands— legitimately worrying that someone might’ve murdered your bastard murderer for being the beast he was.

The world was a fucked up and fickle bitch though, and Michael was nothing if not a product of it, so really you knew who you were cheering on as you hugged the plushie of him and glared at the expanse of life outside of your window. Mentally, you couldn’t help superimposing the sight of the trick or treaters and their wary guardians wandering the streets with the image of Michael somehow managing not to draw attention to himself as he lumbered down *Lampkin Lane, knife in hand likely dripping blood and all sorts of malintent in his eyes.

So, fuck yeah, you’d wait for him to come back, and you’d press little kisses into plushie him’s head in the meantime.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! 🎃

I love Michael in Halloween (2007) so bad, holy shit! He’s just got a lot going on in that head of his. I just wanted to do something cute with him!

The plush in the banner is another Kidrobot one btw.

* I said Lampkin Lane bcs that’s where the Myers house is in a few continuities, but I’m not entirely sure if it’s the same in the reboot and don’t want to check rn, so 🤷🏾‍♀️.

Another night full of toss and turns.

The heat from the large blankets became unbearable, and you kicked them off with a huff. Sleeping wasn’t the same without him; you should’ve known not to grow too attached to the idea of it, yet you let the small moments get to you. You turn to the empty spot on the bed, then over to your phone. With the press of a button, it turns on, and the screen light blinds you. A groan leaves your lips at the harsh lights, squinting to turn down the brightness.

“It’s three in the morning,” you groan.

Usually, Michael would be back by midnight, or sometimes at one in the morning, but that was the latest he’s ever been. You’ve been tossing and turning since nine at night. It frustrates you how much you relied on his presence for a good sleep, but your mind wouldn’t shut up unless you knew he was safe and sound. You then sit up with your back against the headboard, pulling your knees close to your chest. Each blink made you want to keep your eyes shut, but now your mind wouldn’t rest.

You felt the air shift. A strong presence entered your home; you knew it could only mean one thing. Michael came back. Sometimes, you found it funny how the mass murderer of Haddionfeild always came back home; you didn’t know whether he returned for you or just for a place to stay. The bed creaks as you stand to your feet and put on your fuzzy house shoes.

Going downstairs wasn’t your first thought; however, you shuffled to the bathroom first to obtain the medkit under the sink. The pit of worry in your stomach was practically eating you alive as you made your way downstairs. A deep sigh leaves your lips once you reach the last step, reaching out to the light switch that turned on the living room light. Michael was there. The first thing you noticed was his bloody hands; it didn't look like it was from his victims.

“Hey, you’re hurt,” you said through the silence.

You watch as Michael turns his head towards you in the doorway, rubbing your tired eyes that were soon full of worry. You stood there with your medkit. He sat in the large black leather chair, the dark circles of his mask stared at you before turning back to the wall. His cut-up, bloody hands got your attention. Someone must have cut his hand in self-defense. The wooden floorboards groan with every step you take towards him.

Michael kept his bloody hands in his lap. You wonder if he could even feel pain anymore. Or maybe he could, and he just didn’t care about being hurt due to always getting beaten up by his victims. But you did. You always cause a fuss whenever he comes home hurt, but a cut-up hand was the most tamest injury he’s sustained that you’ve seen so far. Carefully, you walk towards him and stand in front of him.

“May I see your hands?” you ask with your hand out.

You didn’t grab him, nor pull him towards you; it was his choice to take your help or not. You could hear the faint sounds of his breathing as he slowly raises one of his bloody hands. Now that you got a better look at the injury, you saw that it was more of a gash rather than small cuts; the fresh gash bled and stained his hands.

“Thank you, Mike. Let’s wash your hands first.”

You quickly made your way to the kitchen, and he followed you silently. You did your best to wash his hands gently with warm water and soap, washing around the gash. You went back over to your medkit and grabbed it, opening the white box to grab a sterile gauze pad and placed it directly over the gash on his hand, then you used the white bandage to wrap around his wrist that made its way up to the cracks of his fingers.

You finally sealed it off with tape and did the same thing to his other hand. Once finished, you closed the white box.

“You gotta be more careful out there, Mike,” you said gently. “You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”

He didn’t move. A relaxed sigh left your lips. Waves of exhaustion hit you now that you knew he was safe and patched up. You’d change the bandages later, after you got enough sleep. You retrieved the box.

“If you want to sleep with me, you know the rule: no coveralls in my bed, you know where your pajamas are.”

You made your way upstairs and put back the medkit. It felt like a massive weight being lift off your shoulders once your body hit the bed that now felt comfortable. As your eyes close shut, you felt at peace. The bed dipped. Tiredly, you open one of your eyes to see Michael in his blue pajamas. It was hard to find ones similar to the coveralls he wears everyday. His mask was still on. He’d never take it off, not even to sleep.

A sigh left your lips as you close your eye to sleep. You felt your body relax, falling deeper into dumber, until a large hand gripped your throat with a firm grip. Your eyes shot open as Michael made you turn your head in his direction.

“Yes, Mike?” you say tiredly.

The grip loosen, yet his hand never left your throat. It took him a while to teach him to make his grip less tight on your neck, it was his own weird way of touching you. His thumb rubs your chin, then snakes its way up to your bottom lip. Gripping your throat was one thing, but he never put his fingers up to your lips before. It made you sit up, as groggy as you were, it had to be something important…right?

You take his hand off of you to hold it. Yet he pulled back, you were too sleepy to figure out what’s wrong.

“I don’t know what you want Michael.” You say with a yawn.

Michael points to the inner palm of his hand where the gash was, then up to his masked face. You did a slow blink with confusion written all over your face. He did the motion again, but more so pointed at his masked lips rather than his face. It then made sense. You always kissed his injuries after patching him up. It must not have crossed your mind to do it, but it surprises you that he actually paid attention to you doing it…and taking a liking to it.

A smile forms on your lips as you take one of his hands. Pressing your lips to the very center in a kiss and did the same for the other one. “Is that better?”

Michael took his hand away afterwards. Stiffly lying down on his back. It was the closest thing you’d get to him relaxing to sleep. Now it was your turn to lie down with him. Your arms wrap around his arm and you rest your head on his chest. He still was still stiff, but didn’t pull away. You soon began to learn that he didn’t mind, if he did, he would’ve pushed you off…he’s done it a few times before.

It’s cold in your apartment and no amount of blankets fixes that.

Your heater went out and you’ve been waiting for it to get fixed. Until then, you sufficed with blankets and Michael whenever he stayed the night. After a round of amazing sex, you’re quick to slip on some sweats and a sweater before diving under the covers. You curl up against Michael, pressing your cold feet against his thigh. If it bothers him, he makes no noise or movement indicating so. He is still naked, save for his mask. Unless he eats you out, he never takes it off… Not that you minded.

Still, you shiver and press your cheek against his chest. He lays stiffly beside you and you almost chuckle. He used to fuck you, or do whatever to you, and then leave. But after he spent the night nonstop eating you out, he sleeps over… or at least lies over. You’re not really sure if he sleeps or not. 

Once enough body heat builds up under your mountain of blankets, you fall asleep against Michael. 

It’s cold once morning rolls in but what else is new. You’re sound asleep, your back curled against Michael’s side and he is awake, staring up at the ceiling. Too cold and your body is almost too warm. 

He feels his cock twitch with interest and you're just laying there against him, so pliant and willing. He turns over so his chest presses against your back. He lifts his mask enough to bury his nose against the nape of your neck and inhales deeply. His dick hardens further against your ass from your scent.

Not much interests the Shape except for killing. But then he spotted you. The urge to kill wasn’t present but instead something else. Something equally as insatiable as the urge to kill. Your smile seized up his chest, the way you talked and laughed made him feel lighter, and the way your body feels pressed against his drives him more insane. He is old, he knows that, and he kills. But with you? He is something else and he likes the pleasure that comes from you.

So willing. 

He remembers you talking to him the other night and how you'd be fine waking up to sex, and that solidifies his growing desire.

His rough hand slides under the large sweater you wear, feeling your warm, soft skin. You were so soft. He liked that. He trails his hand to your front and slowly dips it underneath your sweats. He's pleased you didn't bother to put on panties afterwards. His large hand cups over your mound and he lets out an indiscernible grunt at the heat coming from your core.

Michael dips his fingers through your folds and easily finds your clit. He practically knows your body inside and out at this point. He rubs slowly circles around your clit, trying to get you wet enough. Soft little whimpers leave your parted lips and you shift in your sleep. He lets his fingers dip lower and feels you start to get wet. He grunts softly and can't stop himself from latching his teeth onto your neck. He doesn't bite hard just yet. He wants you awake for that.

You've been so open to whatever he wants. You're just as insatiable as him.

Michael shifts, pressing more of himself onto you as he touches you. His thick fingers start to prod at your entrance and you moan breathlessly in your sleep. He likes your noises. He likes that he's the cause of them. He slips his middle finger inside you and grunts softly at how tight you are. He grinds his palm against your clit to stimulate you more for his cock.

A sharp moan leaves your lips and your hips roll against his. He thinks you're stirring awake but your eyes remain closed and your breathless sounds are inconsistent. He feels your arousal start to really coat his hand and he grunts at the wet, sloppy noises coming from your pussy. He's half tempted to get his mouth on you again, but he knows that'll wake you. He wants you to wake up as his cock enters you.

He works you open slowly, letting you get wet enough for him to get two fingers in you, then three. He brushes over that spongy spot inside but never fully pressing against it like he normally would. He maneuvers his free hand under your body so he can palm at one of your breasts over your sweater. You whimper again and he can practically feel your cunt sucking his fingers deeper.

Slowly, he removes his hand from your sweats. He yanks them down as much as he can, revealing your ass and wet folds to him. He easily moves your legs and shifts his hips perfectly so he can enter you. He reaches down and guides his cock through your folds before sinking just his tip inside of your heat with a grunt. 

Michael slowly inserts his ring and middle finger into your mouth, the two fingers that were inside you. He strokes your tongue and thrusts as if it were his length. Your lips tighten around his digits for a moment and you're sucking both on them and air through your nose. You make a sharp noise and blink away, to which he removes his fingers from your mouth.

“Michael-?” You sound so groggy it is almost adorable. He doesn't give you much time to process anything as he slowly sinks into your cunt in one thrust. You let out a mix of a moan and gasp as he fully sheaths himself inside you.

“Oh… Oh fuck. No wonder I was having the best dream ever.” You chuckle softly as his large hand holds your hip in place. He starts to move, slow and steady as he savors the tightness and warmth around his cock. You moan again and again each time his thick head rubs against that spot that makes soft uh uh uhs fall from your lips. Michael presses deep inside you, his breathing deepens against your neck as he takes what he wants. 

His hand presses your hip down and you're practically on your stomach now as his thrusts quicken, his free hand now holding your other hip. He bites your neck hard this time, his breath hot against your flesh. You cry out and whimper at the pain but the pleasure of his deep and rough strokes inside you. The blankets drape over his frame as he fucks you in earnest. He can feel you starting to tighten around him, all while you were getting slicker. He yanks his mask back down now that he's marked you and really starts to move. 

“Shit, I'm close. I'm so close.” You mumble out, trying to arch your back to take him even deeper. His hips snap against your ass and he groans–actually groans– by your ear. He's making more noises than normal but he doesn't care. He can tell you like hearing him and that's making  you wetter. He plans to make more noises in the future.

“Michael-!” You cry out before it shifts into a moan. Your pussy rhythmically pulses around his cock and your juices coat him.

Michael grunts again and pulls out, his hand gripping his cock as thick ropes of cum shoot out into your stretched, clenching cunt. Some of it lands on your thighs or ass but for the most part it pools and sinks into your pussy.

Before you can react he sinks his cock back inside you. You moan deliciously as he thrusts slowly, fucking his cum inside you. Your warmth is addicting and so are you. He's getting soft, but the way your squirming and mewling is all he needs right now. 

Michael's hips come to a stop and he's rolling you back on your side with him right against your back, his cock still inside you.

“Good morning to you too.” You chuckle tiredly as his arm wraps around your waist, keeping you close to him. You pull at the blankets that shifted off your bodies and press yourself backwards against him.