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on a more serious note, the amount of beef between authors is crazy. obviously, there was the whole ai situation(which I myself spoke on because there was a high level of confusion and doubt in the community), and everyone involved was completely justified in defending their cases, but wdym we're hating on terminology and adjectives?

don't get me wrong, i understand the word giving you the ick i feel that way about certain nicknames too, but in my opinion, just imagine he's calling you baby or something, or better yet, SCROLL.

it's not like reader is wattpad level moaning and screaming daddy and it looks like a geeking 15 year old wrote it, it's a pet name for christ's sake, there's like 500 of them that your brain can choose from to replace the word, same way your brain replaces y/n with the name you prefer.

i understand 'mama' is a common name used in michael fics, and it can be hard to find fics without it, but if it's really that bad, replace it or scroll. given michael's time and his behavior towards woman, it's not a far stretch for people to headcannon that he uses the name 'mama'. kind of like how marvel fans headcannon bucky barnes as a man to use the nickname 'doll'. it just feels like a mutually agreed upon name.

also, i love seeing the inclusive posts on black, white, hispanic, asian, etc women in the community! i love seeing the posts of people using beyonce or sabrina carpenter for aesthetics on singer!reader. all of it is amazing, don't feel discouraged to continue that theme! we love inclusivity and having fun in this house, that's what michael was all about!

he said it himself and 'black or white' exists you guys! if you're thinking about being his baby, it don't matter if you're black or white! unless the author is actively offending or being offensive towards racial groups in their writing, don't ruin other people's shine in their writing! we all come up with different ideas and aesthetics, and sometimes that comes in the form of different things. after all, race could have nothing to do with it, people could just like the aesthetic of that certain person and decide to use it! it's okay, and keep writing y'all!🤍

anyways y'all, i physically CANNOT stress this enough. you're beautiful, your writing is beautiful, your art is amazing, you shine like a special diamond in a cave full of crystals, and you should never let that lightbulb above your head dim!

It wasn’t even noticeable at first. Well, not really, until you connected every small instance like one huge puzzle. A particularly suggestive flutter of his eyelashes, a nearly crimson blush on his cheeks whenever you praised him for anything. Then, there was that one time when you called yourself ‘mommy’ as a joke.

You’d just arrived home from your 4-month anniversary dinner date. Your feet were aching; clad in a pair of deep red 8-inch pumps that Michael practically begged you to wear. “I think it’s sexy that you’re taller than me in those heels. Your legs look extra long and beautiful. Please m-, baby? Please, wear them.” That just about undid you.

You’d started regretting letting him sway you like that, though, because you swore that with every step, you could feel a new callous forming on your pinky toe.

“Come help mommy take these things off, baby.” It was said so casually, because it was. Yet, his reaction had you thinking you’d said something offensive. He’d just finished taking off his own loafers, one knee on the floor. He nearly toppled all the way over, and he looked up at you with this almost pained expression. You could’ve sworn you saw tears welling up in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so direct. It’s probably the wine…I’ll take them off mys–” He’d waved off your thought with his left hand, cleared his throat, and mumbled something along the lines of “…seriously driving me insane” under his breath, but it sounded lighthearted enough for you not to question him further. The two of you had your best sex yet that night.

Last week, though? It got to a point where Michael damn near made you lose your mind. You put on a pair of jeans that were slightly too long, and you didn’t have time to get them hemmed, so you asked your boyfriend to cuff the bottoms for you, playfully pretending to press your stiletto onto his chest while he knelt down.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded earnestly. He looked up at you while he said it, eyes glazed over with sparkles and something else you couldn’t quite place. There was a faint, crooked smile playing on his lips. One that read: I’m right where I want to be. He clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head like he was in the presence of royalty, then continued on with the task.

Really, it was a very quick exchange. Almost even casual; you just so happened to remember every aspect of it because it ruined you and your panties for the next two days.

That’s what’d been on your mind all afternoon. The two of you decided to spend your 6-month anniversary at a beachfront resort. Michael rented the whole thing out nearly two months in advance, your display of subtle dominance on your 4-month anniversary influencing the idea. He had a plan, and all he needed to do was gather up the confidence to act upon it.

You two took a series of photos on the digital camera he gifted you, involving various activities; a photo of you eating the breakfast he cooked the two of you in your suite’s kitchen, one of him almost missing his step on the jetski he was gonna race you on…One of you towering above him as he adjusted the delicate golden anklet he gave you the day prior, the cursive M glinting in the sunlight. He coughed hysterically to cover up the sound of its shudder, internally chastising himself for forgetting to turn off the sound in its settings.

When you two got home, he seemed overly eager about the evening, his attitude rubbing off on you. The both of you were a giggling mess, and you were completely sober. Just high off of the presence of the other.

The two of you had dinner reservations at 6:30pm, so you decided to shower together to ‘save water’ and time. Michael basically did the showering for the both of you though, making sure to do every step like you would. You’ve showered together enough for him to know your whole routine, and it made your heart swell with warmth, and your thighs unnoticeably squeeze together with want. He even rinsed and dried the both of you, making sure you didn’t lift your pretty fingers to do anything but grip onto his shoulders for balance.

It made you insatiable.

While you put on the finishing touches of your makeup, Michael approached you with a pleading look settled onto his face.

“Does this shirt look weird untucked? Should I button it up some more?”

You turned around, your unset makeup almost plastering onto his black button up. He looked delicious. Your mouth actually got watery at the sight right in front of you. You gulped down your lust, and met his eyes.

“Michael, you look beautiful. Leave it untucked and unbuttoned just like that. Wow.”

He ducked his head slightly, a faint blush crawling up his neck, as he let out a nervous chuckle. For a man so gorgeous, you’d think he’d be used to compliments from his own girlfriend by now.

“Y-you sure? Tonight’s important. I wanna look like we belong together. Like I belong with you.”

It took everything in you not to ruin your dinner plans and prove it to him right there, your hands fighting the urge to push him onto the bed and show him just how pretty you thought he was.

You cleared your throat and answered with a joking, “Michael, I’d swear you have a praise kink or something, because there’s no way you don’t see just how tasty you look right now.”

You turned back to the mirror, powdering up your face and putting on the remainder of your lip combo.

You didn’t notice just how badly Michael was holding it together from that point forward.

The two of you played the rest of the night cool, though. Nothing out of the ordinary, save for Michael fighting off his neediness when you ordered for him because you noticed him get shy, and when you wiped enchilada sauce off of his face, calling him your ‘clumsy baby.’ Or, the instance where you almost dragged him to the bathroom when you asked if he wanted dessert, and looked at you all lovesick with a, “Yes, please.”

He aggressively adjusted his black jeans, not so subtly, after you told him to pick up the napkin he (purposely) dropped. He felt like he was drunk. His nerves and his body were on fire. He started to down the bottle of wine he purchased for the two of you, for liquid courage. You quickly followed suit. It did nothing to help either of your states.

On the walk back to your suite, Michael’s demeanor nearly killed your buzz. He looked terrified.

“Mikey, baby. What’s wrong?” you asked, stepping in front of him and tilting his head up by his chin so he’d look you in your eyes. The heels you wore had you standing taller than him, and, unbeknownst to you, that only made it worse.

“It’s nothin, baby.” he responded, but his voice wasn’t matching his actions.

“Michael, come on, it’s me. What’s going o-”

“I said it’s nothin’,” he cut you off sharply. His voice was loud- too loud- and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. He grabbed ahold of the hand that you had underneath his chin, and rushed the two of you the rest of the way to the hotel.

You were furious. Concerned by his terror-stricken face, mostly. But, his sharpness with you stirred something inside that you thought you’d buried, only fueled by the ache in your feet from nearly running in stilettos.

As you made it to your room, you pushed past his usually taller frame, and sat down onto the nearest plush chair, bending over to undo the straps of your pumps. You heard the door close with a click and looked up to see Michael rushing his way towards you, trying to stop you from removing them yourself. The two of you had your hands tangled in a mess; his fingers trying to gently push yours off, and yours almost aggressively shoving his.

“Enough, Michael.”

He gulped loudly, seeming almost embarrassed to look at you.

That was almost enough to ease the fire on your lips. Almost.

“Look at me while I’m speaking to you. What happened, and why are you acting so weird towards me?” Your voice quivered on the latter half of your question, insecurity starting to creep its way through your tone. Your cleared your throat and waited for him to speak.

He sighed visibly at the beginning of your monologue. The words affecting him in a way you couldn’t understand.

He continued removing your shoes as he answered, needing something to keep his eyes away from yours, due to the vulnerable truth behind his actions.

“I…” he cleared his throat. “I want you to control me.”

That was not what you were expecting. You waited, scared that you’d misinterpreted the intentions behind his words, hoping he’d expand on it further. By this point, both of your shoes were off, and he was still kneeling in front of your legs, both of his hands opting to massage on one of your aching feet. He still wasn’t looking at you.

“Mike…?” you asked. Your voice slightly deepened with a lust you were fighting so hard to control. You ran your fingers through his hair softly, eliciting a soft whine from his throat. You used the hand in his hair to gently guide his face up to yours. He obeyed your silent command as soon as you slightly tugged, actions already proving that he meant what you thought he did. Your stomach did a flip. The alcohol in your system was making you extremely sensitive to your emotions, everything heightened. Apparently, Michael was going through the same.

“I-I mean. Well look at you…Your legs are so long, ‘n you take care of me so good. You’re so good at telling people what to do and I always wish it was me on the other end of that. I- I think about you doing things to me. Things that I can’t control. I sometimes try ‘n push your buttons just so you can finally snap at me, but you’re so patient, even though your energy is kinda scary, and that somehow drives me even crazier.” The alcohol had him saying quite literally every word that came into his brain. He’d managed to fully massage all the tension from your feet during the rambling. He gave them each a quick peck and set them down gently onto the plush carpet beneath you. Then he sat up on his knees, properly. Both of his hands were placed on his lap like he was preparing for prayer.

“Please, baby. I can’t take it anymore. I want you to use me and control me and take everything I have. I want you to be mean to me and I want you to punish me for being rude earlier. Put me in my place, please. Please, pleasepleaseplease. It’s embarrassing, but I really do want this.” He added the last part after he noticed you weren’t responding, embarrassment and alcohol settling into his bones. He started sniffling, his eyes rimming with tears.

You didn’t say a word. Silently, you stood up, gripping Michael by the collar, dragging his frame up with yours, and then crashed your lips into his. He whimpered loudly. The sound shred the last bit of sanity you had left. The two of you tumbled through the doors that led to your room, his socks being kicked off and your shawl strewn onto the floor on the way there.

You turned him around and shoved him onto the bed forcefully. Michael looked up at you like you held the universe up just for him. Your hands made their way to his shirt first. The opened buttons were driving you crazy all day. You started unbuttoning, but grew impatient, opting to just aggressively pull them apart instead, buttons popping off and flying onto the floor in the act.

Michael was a whimpering mess beneath you, and you hadn’t even touched him properly. His hands were at his sides and his body was rigid. He hadn’t even tried touching you.

“Mikey, baby. You know you can touch me, right?”

“I just wanted your permission first ma- ahem. Baby.”

“What was that?” you questioned, catching his slip-up.

“Nothin’,” Mike said, clearly embarrassed. He tried kissing you after to cover it up, but the alcohol in your system made you not care. You pushed his torso back down onto the bed.

“Don’t lie to me, Michael. I can stop all this right now,” you said sternly.

“I..Uhm. It’s just.. sometimes I kinda wanna call you..mommy…?” He phrased it like a question.

That’s how you ended up the position the two of you were in right now. Him with his head propped up on the spare pillows he requested earlier, and your body propped up on his face, straddling it. Michael was going dumb beneath you, fully letting your core and the alcohol in his veins consume him.

“Mmm, Mikey. I didn’t know you had this in you,” you say with surprise laced into your voice. And it’s true. The two of you had sex a few times, but he usually seemed okay with taking over for you. Only now did you realize that it was more of him servicing you than taking control.

“I’ve always had it in me, m- ah baby,” he says, slightly pushing his head further into the pillow so he can speak.

You grab one of his nipples and pinch it harshly.

“Did I say you could stop? Don’t think I forgot about your little attitude earlier.”

That only turns him on further though, his hips jutting into the air immediately at the rough contact.

“N-no. I’m sor- ah- sorry baby. You’re right. I’ve been s-so bad,” his voice melting into a needy whine on the last word.

“Yeah, so bad. I- mmm- s-should teach you a lesson, shouldn’t I?”

“P-please. Please do whatever you want to me. I’ll make it up to y…ou, mmm.”

In one swift movement, you climb off of his face, and settle your soaking core onto his bare chest. You take your right hand and place it onto his neck with no pressure- yet.

“How sorry are you?” you question, his fucked out face only fueling your actions.

“Really sorry. Sorrier than I can even put into words,” he jumbled out. Not good enough. You give him a slight slap on the face, and then grip onto his neck with more fervor. He moans like it’s his first time being touched sexually.

“That’s it? You’re sooo sorry you can’t even say it?” you scoff at him, playing up your anger just to see him fold beneath your grasp. You begin grinding down hard onto his chest, reveling in this.

“N-no! I mean, yes, b-but, fuck keep using me like that please. I just, I have to show you. Let me show you?” he says, still trying to work your pussy between each word.

“Hmm, go ahead then,” you respond almost immediately, intrigued by his request.

He tenderly grabs onto your thighs and lifts your body up off of his chest, and places you next to him, sliding from the bed in the same movement. Then, he eagerly walks to the foot of the bed and sinks onto his knees, beckoning you toward him with two of his fingers, his twinkling eyes never leaving yours.

“Join me, please?” he asks, voice laced with desire.

You seductively crawl toward him, his body looking meek in this position. You can feel your core drip more at the sight of him. He uncrosses your legs for you, making sure to do all of the work. He’s gonna prove to you just how sorry he is for not being a good boy.

He takes one of your legs and starts to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to every inch of it; from the tips of your toes, to the backs of your knees. His eyes never leave yours. He’s waiting for some sign of approval, a praise, anything that tells him he’s making up for it, but you sit there in shock, staring at the submissive man beneath you. You’re almost too scared to move, afraid that any action or sound will break the spell.

Then he starts to speak. “You’re so beautiful. Your body’s like a painting that only Michelangelo himself could’ve imagined. How could I have been so stupid? You deserve everything. I’m gonna give you everything,” he says between kisses.

“This?” he says, kissing your inner thigh, “I don’t even deserve it. I’m lucky to be able to touch you like this. Lucky ta even see you like this.”

He grabs onto your hips, and looks up at you, pleading.

“M gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

Michael kisses up the soft skin of your stomach, making sure to save what’s beneath it for last. Then, he makes it to your breasts, and drool dribbles out of his mouth as he speaks.

“I don’t even deserve these,” he says, almost to himself with a sigh. He peppers kisses to the undersides of them, teasing his way up to your erect nipples. Then, he takes one into his mouth, suckling like a man starved. You nearly scream from pleasure at the contact, causing Michael to look up with worry, only for him to see your blissed expression. He grabs your other nipple and rolls it between his fingers, still holding eye contact with you.

“F-fuck Michael, that’s it baby. Just like that.”

He switches his ministrations to your next nipple, replacing his mouth with his hand, and his hand with his mouth. He starts whimpering louder and louder with each gasp you take, your arousal fueling his tenfold. You feel high. You try clamping your legs together, but his lanky body is blocking you from doing so, eliciting a whine from your lips. He notices this. He notices everything. He removes the hand from your nipple and immediately starts rubbing languid, deep circles on your clit. You let out a loud moan straight from your diaphragm, internally thanking Michael for renting the whole resort out for the two of you.

Michael’s lips detach from your tit with a pop. “You like this?” he questions genuinely, wanting to be good for you.

“Mike- fuck- yes! L-love it! So good!” You can barely even think properly, your mind only focused on how his long fingers work your clit with ease.

“Mmm,” he responds, not fully satisfied with himself. He doesn’t want you to love it. He wants you to crave it.

He gets up and straddles your waist, fingers still slowly rubbing your clit, searching your neck for its sweet spot with his lips. When you buck your core into his hand at a particular area, he starts licking and biting on it, hungrily inhaling the perfume on your neck in the process.

“You-ngh. You smell so sweet. Did you wear my favorite perfume for me?” he asks, a wave of gratitude crashing onto him.

“Y-yes Mike. Come on- more. I need more. Give me more.” You’re desperate now. You have half a mind not to start fucking yourself on his fingers right there, but he’s one step ahead.

His fingers slide straight into your pussy, and your walls clenched around them immediately, not expecting the intrusion so suddenly. Your back arches up off the bed, lifting both of you in the process.

“M sorry. I’m gonna get you there baby. I promise.” Without another word, he carefully slides back down your frame, and starts suckling at your clit like he’s tasting ice cream for the first time ever, his fingers still curling and pumping in and out of you. Your eyes start to water.

“Ohhhh my- fuuuuuck. Mikeyyy, baby mmm. S-shit. I feel sososo good. So good. You’re so good to me baby. My perfect- ah. My perfect angel. S-so pretty on your knees for me.” You smile at him weakly and squeeze his head in between your thighs forcefully, grinding yourself onto his mouth and nose. The dichotomy is giving him whiplash.

The praise that you give Michael is driving him halfway insane. He moans erotically into your squelching pussy, pumping his fingers into you faster and harsher, squeezing his thighs together for his own relief. The sight of you using him like this is making his brain go numb, the only thing on his mind is making up for his behavior earlier. Making sure you’re feeling good.

Your legs start to shake uncontrollably now, a telltale sign of your orgasm approaching.

This fuels Michael further.

“Please cum on my face. I wanna taste it, ma.”

You almost do it on the spot, but you have other plans. You lightly kick his face from between your legs and his mouth detaches from your pussy loudly. He looks at you confused, his face glistening with your arousal.

“I’m sorry. Did I do something wro-” You interrupt him by slamming your lips onto his, the force of it pushing his torso onto the floor. You moan at the taste of yourself on his mouth, your tongue searching for his in the process. You break the kiss and lean into his ear with a seductive whisper. “I want to fuck you, Michael.”

His entire body goes rigid and he gasps loudly. You palm him through his jeans, feeling his dick straining against the black fabric. He sucks in a sharp breath, wanting so desperately for more friction, while simultaneously wanting to show you he can be good.

“Ohhh, were you this hard all this time, baby?” you coo at him, loving how the condescending tone in your words feels.

“A-ah yes. I just wanted you to feel good,” he replies between choked breaths, seemingly trying not to pass out. He loves how dumb you’re making him feel.

“Aww my good boy, you did so well for me. I think it’s time for us to both feel good together, hmm?” you ask him, eager for his response. He looks so pretty like this, and his whimpers sound even prettier.

“O-only if that’s what you want. Ngh- everything’s your choice. Everything, everything,” he slurs out, already losing his grasp on reality due to the way you’re speaking to him and the way you rub hungrily against his clothed erection.

You unzip his jeans faster than he can even process and pulled them down off his legs along with his boxers, his leaking erection slapping against his abdomen harshly.

“Look at me,” you command him. He obeys without a second thought.

You take your pretty manicured hands and begin to jerk him off slowly, enjoying the way he tries not to grind up into your hands because he’s your good boy.

You speed up your actions faster, faster, faster, until you see Michael nearing his climax. He’s warning you over and over that he’s gonna cum, not wanting to before you do. Not after his behavior today. He didn’t deserve it, and you agree.

“Baby, pleeeeease, ‘m so close. Can’t do it. You have ta first. Iss too good ‘n i can’t hold it,” he whines, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You kiss them away and go faster, ignoring his cries. The tears only turned you on further.

“F-FUCK! BABY I’M GONN-” You stop moving your hand entirely, and squeeze down on his dick hard.

“Wh-wha..” Michael trails off, not knowing how to speak anymore.

“Thank you,” he says, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes, chest heaving. He knew better than to complain- you touching him at all was enough.

You lean up to give him a quick kiss, before lining his dick up with your entrance and sinking down onto it. The stretch was enough to make your legs shake and almost make you fall over. You can’t take it all at once, opting to go slowly, grinding yourself against it in the meantime.

“Oh my GOD,” Michael cries out, propping himself up on his elbows so he can look at you. You look like an answered prayer.

“Mikey, you’re too big,” you whine out, drawling the last word out on purpose.

“I’m sor-ry,” he sincerely apologizes. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on by his facial expression. You sink the rest of the way down, too impatient to care about the burn. You grip onto his neck for support and start riding him slowly, your thighs burning with pain and pleasure. Michael moans at the feeling of your delicate fingers around his neck again and he loses his filter completely.

“Please choke me again. Hard. Control when I can breathe,” he begs you. You do just that and start bouncing against his length, the begging and whimpering from your boyfriend turning you on more than you’ve ever been.

His eyes start to roll back, and you loosen your grip so that he can gasp for air, his lungs greedily swallowing the oxygen creeping in. He starts rolling his hips up into yours to help, knowing riding isn’t easy for women. Always the gentleman, even when you’re fucking his brains out. He looks into your eyes, grabs your free hand and starts sucking on your fingers, muffling his moans with them from embarrassment. You don’t know whether to be angry that he won’t let you hear them, or turned on from the sight, so you grind and choke him harder.

His eyes fog over and he drools onto his chest, arching his back up to meet all of your grinds. You loosen your grip once again.

“Let me hear your pretty voice, baby,” you drawl at him, removing your fingers from his mouth and using them to play with your nipple. That basically does it for him.

“Baaaaaaby. Oh my god I-I can’t even think. You’re s-so good to me and- YEAH keep touching yourself like that please. You’re so beauti-f-ful. I’m never letting you go. You’re t-too perfect iss driving me crazy. Plea-” you choke him again- “Mmmfuck. Please cum on me. Please use my body to cum.”

“Then fuck me like you want it, Mike,” you order, dragging your fingers down from his neck, using your nails to scratch all the way down to his chest.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He flips you over and pins you beneath him, and begins thrusting into you the exact way he knows you like it, totally focusing on your pleasure.

“Michael! Baby fuckkkkkk, you…feel sooo good. Don’t stop!”

“I won’t, baby.” He presses a hand onto your stomach for comfort, but what he felt flipped a switch in him. He looked down and saw himself moving inside of your belly.

“Oh my god…” he gasped out, making you look at him with concern. “B-baby. I can see myself inside of you,” he says, genuinely surprised.

“It’s ‘cause you’re so big,” you say, pouting at him. “G-go ahead, baby. Fuck me until m’ cervix is shaped like your dick.” He groans at the filth in your words, doing just as you say. His body begins to shake with pleasure. He feels so good, too good. Like something only his imagination could come up with. He starts drooling again.

The sight above you is getting you so close to your release. You reach your hand down to your clit and started playing with it, making sure to tilt Michael’s face down to watch before you do so. You want to put on a show for him. It is your anniversary, after all.

“M gonna cum for you Mikey. ‘M gonna make a mess of that pretty dick of yours,” you say nastily. You can feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten more and more.

“Y-Yes! Please cum all over me. Please turn me into a mess,” he begs, and that did it. Your entire body locks up and your vision turns blurry.

“Michael FUCK!” you scream- genuinely scream- out in pleasure. You grip onto his shoulders with all the force you can muster, mumbling out praises of “You’re so pretty” and “Did so good” until your lips fall numb. He rides you through the whole thing, legs shaking and forehead dripping with sweat.

“C-can I please cum? It hurts…” You look at him with surprise, not realizing he was still going for you, and it almost does enough for you to want a round two.

“Oh, Michael. You’re so obedient. I didn’t realize you were still going, love. Cum inside me, baby. Fill me up.”

He whimpers and cums on command, his body stilling and his toes curling up in pleasure. His eyes roll so far back into his head that you can’t even see his irises anymore.

“Thank you, thank you, thank y- ahh, thank you. ‘M so so-ahhhgghh, so sorry. I’ll be good forever ‘m sorry my pretty girl.”

His sweaty body collapses onto yours, and you two lay there for a while, his dick still inside of you, fully softened up.

After at least ten minutes of this, Michael speaks.

“So…Can we do this again?” he asks hesitantly.

“Michael,” you start, “I don’t think I can ever go back. Do you know how sexy you are when you’re submissive?” Your thighs start to clench again at the thought of what you two got up to tonight.

“O-oh. Really? It wasn’t too much?” he asks shyly as he rolls off of your body.

“Really. You should’ve said something sooner, angel face. I prefer being dominant,” you reveal, although you’re sure it was obvious.

“I was just shy, is all. But you? I don’t think- no, I know I’ve never seen anything or anyone as sexy as you were tonight. I feel like I died from bliss and met God. Truly, you were heavenly. I didn’t want any of it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to…We still have a whole weekend to spend here,” you offer, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. He blushes a deep red.

“I’m gonna go get our stuff ready for a bath,” you say. “Tidy up the room for when we’re back, yeah?”

“I’ll do anything for you,” Michael says, clearly still pussy drunk. He grabs your hand before you head to the bathroom.

“I love you. I’m not just saying that because of what we did tonight, you know that. But I love you. Thank you for being the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ll cherish you for all of my days, and even afterwards, if I can.“ He gives you a brief, yet passionate kiss on the lips. “I’ll be as quick as possible. Happy anniversary, pretty girl.”